TDG Ch 20
by LunaThe contents that came out of the unlocked bag were simple. A luxurious red velvet case, embossed with the South Korean government logo and the insignia of the Esper Department. Inside the case, which was slightly smaller than my hand, was a matte all-black ID card. What caught my eye first was the silver holographic stamp in the lower-left corner, marked with a faint blue glow: the S-rank symbol.
“Wow.”
I let out a short exclamation as I picked up the card. So this is the exclusive S-rank card issued by the government. I’d only ever heard about its reputation; this was my first time seeing the real thing. For a card, it gave off an incredible aura. They say there’s nothing you can’t do with this in that country. Is that really true?
Park Sangjun said the mobile certificate had also been sent to his watch and that he should check it.
The benefits granted to an S-rank Esper by the government are extravagant.
Housing and a vehicle are provided as a baseline, not to mention strong welfare perks like a personal security detail and access to top-tier medical facilities for free. On top of that, the salary comes with bonuses and all sorts of performance incentives.
Since each Esper of this level is considered a national asset, the government created policies to prevent talent from leaking overseas as much as possible. Even so, some still defect, saying that compared to abroad, the treatment is dirt cheap.
“Whoa! 80% cashback on gas, regardless of the affiliate brand? That’s insane!”
While going through the list of cardholder benefits, I nearly had my eyes pop out at this part. I felt a bit self-conscious about reacting so materialistically, but this is an era of high gas prices. How could anyone not flip out over getting 80% of their fuel money back? Any driver would totally get where I’m coming from. That was way more impressive than some discount at a department store or golf course I barely visit.
Jihyuk casually handed the card to me. He didn’t hesitate for a second.
“Here, you take it, Hyung.”
I hiccuped in surprise. Park Sangjun, who had been mechanically reading off the clauses regarding Esper privileges, dropped his jaw.
“W-What are you talking about! If you give that to me, what are you going to do?”
“I’ve got the mobile version.”
Park Sangjun looked back and forth between us, his expression slowly morphing into something… complicated. From the look on his face, it was obvious he’d come to the wrong conclusion—that we were dating. Right now, the image of the bed scene he’d walked in on during our first meeting was probably flashing through his mind.
It’s true that there are more than a few Espers and Guides who end up falling for each other during guiding and wind up in relationships, and sure, he’s free to jump to conclusions, but if I accept the card here, it’s basically confirmation. In every romance, across time and cultures, the male lead only gives his black card to the female lead. It’s a timeless cliché!
If rumors started spreading about something more than friendship between Han Jihyuk and Seo Juwon, that would be a problem. My Jihyuk is already taken, after all.
Trying to dispel Park Sangjun’s misconception, I deliberately burst out in loud laughter.
“What the hell are you talking about, man! Don’t joke around like that! Someone might steal your ID!”
Then I turned to Park Sangjun and gave him a relaxed smile, as if to say, ‘He’s still young and doesn’t know much about the world. So innocent it’s a problem, really.’
Park Sangjun raised his eyebrows as if he understood something deeper, then spoke again.
“The card key contains a special IP chip, so identity theft is absolutely impossible. Also, the government doesn’t interfere in how the card is used. Since it’s entirely up to Esper Han Jihyuk how and where he uses it, it’s perfectly acceptable for him to give it to someone special.”
I nearly spit out my coffee.
He totally didn’t get it!
“Someone special,” my ass. That’s not what this is! Don’t give me that greasy, knowing smile. I said it’s not like that, it’s a misunderstanding!
This is a disaster. It had the opposite effect. The misunderstanding was now engraved in his skull like ancient oracle bone script. No matter what I said from here on, it would just sound like a lame excuse. What should I do? If Park Sangjun goes back and blabs to Kim Yuhwan, the misunderstanding will spread like wildfire.
Just the thought of it made my vision go dark. If there’s one thing this field excels at, it’s having far too much interest in other people’s love lives and having plenty to say about them. If anything, it’s worse than you’d expect. Because the job itself involves a lot of physical contact, romantic entanglements often get very… intense. It’s a place where you’ll hear ridiculous yet tragic tips like, ‘To maintain smooth, professional relationships, you’ve gotta be up-to-date on the interpersonal relationships and gossip around you.’
And if it involves the love life of an S-rank Esper—the constant center of attention and curiosity for all agents? Then it wouldn’t even take a day for that juicy rumor to spread across the entire Center. No doubt it would start with an anonymous post on the company bulletin board. I could already imagine the kinds of things that would be written.
Should I blow up their online server?
The dangerous impulse seized me. But then, something flashed through my mind. Maybe this isn’t such a bad thing after all if I just shift my perspective a little. It’s not like we’re actually dating anyway.
It wouldn’t mess with the original love line from the source material, and I could safely monopolize Han Jihyuk’s time until Ahyoon arrived. What better excuse is there to stay by his side even after the dedicated period ends than pretending we’re in a relationship? They say there’s always a way out, even when the sky is falling, and this… this might just be it.
“……”
After thinking it through, I took the black card Jihyuk was offering and tucked it into my pocket. At that, Park Sangjun’s eyes twisted nastily. Good. Go ahead, misunderstand. Jump to all the conclusions you want. If you’re going to start a rumor, might as well spread it till your mouth goes dry.
Of course, I had zero intention of ever using the card. All of Han Jihyuk’s money belongs to Jung Ahyoon. How could I possibly touch even a penny of it?
“This is the last clause under the privileges section. From now on, you may summon any Guide at any time and have them remain by your side.”
What appeared on the tablet screen was the full roster of Guides affiliated with the Center.
As Park Sangjun flipped the first page, the very first face that popped up was one I found unpleasantly familiar. Kwon Minwook, who had the look of someone with a VIP pass to corporate interviews. I knew it. He must’ve bribed the admin to make sure he appeared on the very first page. Just look at that sickeningly virtuous smile. I feel like yesterday’s bean sprout soup is about to threaten to crawl back up my throat.
Seeing such a sly little trick, not even missing this tiny opportunity, only confirmed that I’d made the right decision not to clear up Park Sangjun’s misunderstanding.
“The Guide files will be sent to Esper Han Jihyuk’s watch. You can access them anytime at your convenience, and when needed, simply press the summon button.”
What Park Sangjun had just said was one of the exclusive privileges only granted to S-rank Espers.
Aside from their designated Guide, they could summon any Center-affiliated Guide at will.
Just hearing that, you’d know that S-ranks never have to worry about a lack of Guides.
Multiguiding is common when things get busy, but who’d dare suggest that an S-rank share their Guide? On the flip side, no Guide in their right mind would refuse a summons from an S-rank either.
In a faraway land across the sea, in the land of the almighty dollar[1], a single S-rank Esper usually has at least half a dozen Guides dangling from them like trinkets on a keyring under titles like reserve or standby. And they’re not just anyone; they’re carefully selected beauties tailored to their aesthetics or sexual preferences, just to enjoy the pleasure of choosing.
Called the “New Emperors of the 21st Century,” they flaunt their wealth and power through the number of Guides they own.
Some criticize it as shallow and vulgar, but the power of capitalism is never so weak as to be deterred by such things. If anything, they’ve doubled down and even hold beauty pageants for Guides. Have you heard of the “Guide Beauty Pageant”? It’s not a tabloid fantasy; it’s a real, annual mega-event held in New York.
Back when I read about it in the novel, I thought it was just one of those absurd character jokes. Realizing it actually exists? The shock was indescribable.
If it were someone like Im Seongjun, he’d already be drooling and selecting the prettiest ones first. But Jihyuk? He didn’t show the slightest interest as he quickly scrolled through the list.
So proud. This is how my favorite male lead should be.
Loyal and devoted, completely faithful to the female lead.
“I’m fine with just Hyung.”
“Ah, yes. You mean Guide Seo Juwon, right? Understood. Then for the time being… I’ll make a note that you’ll be working with Guide Seo Juwon.”
As if he had expected it all along, Park Sangjun calmly jotted something down on the tablet.
In other words, I would now be the first Guide to be contacted if anything happened to Han Jihyuk.
Good, good. Couldn’t ask for a more perfect outcome. I couldn’t help but smile with satisfaction. That was when it happened—Jihyuk furrowed his brows, waved his hand as if to deny a misunderstanding, and dropped a bombshell.
“No. I don’t mean ‘for the time being.’ I’m talking about re-assignment as my exclusive Guide.”
“What? R-Re-assignment?”
That startled me more than it did Park Sangjun. I instinctively raised both hands and stepped between them.
“Wait a moment, Chief! That’s something we should think about a little more!”
“Hyung…?”
I stretched my hand back toward Jihyuk, silently urging him to stay put, and turned back to Park Sangjun to finish what was left unsaid.
“That part… I’ll follow up separately. For now, please proceed with the current plan. I’d appreciate it.”
Park Sangjun looked at us both, clearly confused, but quickly realized it wasn’t his place to interfere. Sensing the mood, he packed up and stood from his seat.
“Understood. I’ll proceed accordingly and take my leave. Let me know if there are any changes.”
After Park Sangjun left, it was just the two of us in the hospital room again. As I closed the door and turned around, I saw Jihyuk staring at me like someone who’d just been betrayed.
“Jihyuk, about what just happened… Hyung will explain. Come sit here for a second.”
Even though I motioned for him to come over, he just stood by the bed, silently glaring at me. He didn’t budge. With no other choice, I dragged the IV stand over and approached him myself.
“Jihyuk, our case is a special one, but exclusive pairings aren’t as easy as they sound. Right now, because I’m your first Guide, you feel a deep attachment and probably think you want to be with me forever, but that feeling will fade over time. This isn’t just me saying it. It’s backed by a ton of data and real-world cases.”
But it seemed he was truly upset, stepping back to avoid my hand when I reached for him.
“…Please just listen. When someone becomes your exclusive partner, the Esper and the Guide become tied together not only professionally but in every part of their personal lives, too. They’re treated almost like a married couple. Sure, it might seem nice for a while. But no matter what the relationship is, it will always come to an end eventually. Some end well, but others… not so much. And when it ends badly, it’s impossible to ever go back to how things were before.”
Jihyuk, who had been listening quietly, scrunched his face into something resembling a bitter smile, as if to say it was a pathetic excuse.
“Then we just won’t end it.”
“I’m saying it can’t be avoided just by deciding that…”
Very few Espers around the world manage to maintain a long-term, one-on-one relationship with their first Guide. The fading of obsession and dependency is a natural phenomenon that occurs in the Esper’s brain once they begin exercising independent influence. From then on, the Guide they feel genuine affection for is truly their own choice.
“No. I’ll never let it end. Hyung, you’re the one being weird. Why are you talking like it’s definitely going to be over?”
Jihyuk pressed me with an impatient gesture, as if he couldn’t understand. Since I had indeed spoken with that intention, my chest tightened, and I was at a loss for words.
What made this especially difficult was that Espers at this stage believe, with all their hearts, that their first Guide is everything. That’s already the norm, but in Jihyuk’s case, his unstable sense of self made him even more dependent, even more stubborn. But the moment would come sooner than he expected when he wouldn’t even recognize the version of himself he is right now. Knowing this truth only made my chest feel tighter.
You’re going to fall in love with Jung Ahyoon, the person fate intended for you. You’ll soon realize that no amount of love you give her will ever feel like enough. Everything I’ve done so far has been for your happiness. That’s why, Jihyuk… let’s not do something we’ll regret.
“…Then can’t you at least think it over carefully, for my sake? I feel like you need some time to sort out your feelings, too.”
There were countless ways to buy time.
Footnotes:
- land of the almighty dollar: 천조국 (literally “country of a thousand trillion”) is Korean internet slang for the United States, highlighting its vast wealth and massive military budget (around a trillion USD). The term plays on the old phrase Celestial Empire (天皇國), once used for China, but in modern slang it humorously or ironically paints the U.S. as a near-mythical superpower. Depending on context, it can sound admiring, mocking, or just playful, but it’s usually lighthearted online. ↑