TS 022

Thud. The towel, the one Han Suryeon had been using to dry his hair, landed on the bed, its pristine surface a testament to its lack of use. Damp, ash-blond strands curled slightly as he ruffled them with a shake of his head.

“To be honest…”

Yoon Taehwa didn’t bother denying it. His appreciation for Han Suryeon’s physique wasn’t fueled by envy or desire. It was something… different.

‘He’d be a valuable asset to the team.’

That was the extent of his interest. Not that he had any complaints about his current team, but a capable Esper was always a welcome addition.

“Want to touch?”

Han Suryeon closed the distance between them, his tone laced with a playful challenge.

“Come closer.”

Yoon Taehwa didn’t hesitate, reaching out to grip Han Suryeon’s arm. As expected, the muscles beneath his skin were smooth and firm, his biceps, triceps, and forearms sculpted to perfection. His chest and abdomen were equally impressive, every muscle sharply defined, like a marble statue come to life.

It was a flawless physique, one that offered no obvious weaknesses, no clear target for a decisive strike. It made Yoon Taehwa wonder how he would approach their next encounter, should they ever find themselves on opposite sides.

“What are you thinking about?”

Yoon Taehwa’s gaze traveled upwards, meeting Han Suryeon’s with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.

“I’m trying to decide where to hit you first next time we fight.”

For a moment, Han Suryeon was speechless, his eyes widening slightly. Then, a slow smile spread across his face, and he threw back his head, letting out a laugh that was both amused and strangely unsettling.

“That’s all you’re thinking about?”

“What else would I be thinking about?”

Han Suryeon’s smile widened, mimicking Yoon Taehwa’s earlier challenge.

“Hmm, I guess I’ll have to try harder.”

Although he’d been the one to beckon Han Suryeon closer, the proximity was starting to feel a little too… intimate. Yoon Taehwa shifted slightly, about to nudge Han Suryeon back with a hand to his chest when the other man abruptly changed the subject.

“So, did you get a chance to review the footage?”

“You were quite thorough.”

“I held back on using my ability directly. I wanted to impress you.”

“I’m satisfied. I prefer a firm hand to a hesitant one.”

While their methods might have seemed a tad barbaric by 21st-century standards, Espers, in many ways, were closer to beasts than humans. Sometimes, the most effective way to assert dominance was through sheer force.

Yoon Taehwa hadn’t anticipated the extent of the new recruit’s injuries, but he didn’t fault Han Suryeon for it. The kid had been asking for it, mouthing off like that.

“Will there be a reward for my efforts?”

Han Suryeon tilted his head, his gaze expectant, like a dog hoping for a treat.

“Didn’t I tell you? A good puppy needs to be soft and cuddly if it wants to be petted. That’s why I got all cleaned up for you.”

“You seem more damp than cuddly.”

“Don’t you know how to treat a dog after a successful hunt? A good scratch behind the ears is all it takes.”

His voice was almost a purr, the playful facade failing to mask the genuine need for affirmation in his eyes.

“Just shut up and kneel.”

Yoon Taehwa reached out, not to caress, but to grip a fistful of Han Suryeon’s damp hair, tugging him down slightly. The texture, a little coarser than his own, felt strange between his fingers.

As he ran his hand through the other man’s hair, almost absently, Han Suryeon let out a low chuckle, catching his wrist in a firm grip.

“Belly rubs are my favorite.”

And with that, he pulled Yoon Taehwa closer, his thigh pressing boldly between Yoon Taehwa’s legs.

‘Seriously?’

Instead of pushing him away, curiosity getting the better of him, Yoon Taehwa stared down at Han Suryeon’s face, a slow smile playing on his lips. It was then that he felt it – something hard and unmistakable, pressing against his leg. His brow furrowed in displeasure.

“What’s this?”

“What do you mean?”

He glanced down, his gaze drawn to the slight bulge beneath the edge of Han Suryeon’s towel. The towel itself was large, easily big enough to encompass the other man’s lean hips. Even with the slight shift in his posture, there should have been no way…

‘Is he serious right now?’

Yoon Taehwa recoiled as if burned, shoving Han Suryeon back with a muttered curse.

“Go put on a robe.”

If Han Suryeon was fazed by his annoyance, he didn’t show it, a playful smirk twisting his lips.

“What, you don’t like the view?”

Yoon Taehwa didn’t answer, his mind momentarily preoccupied with a rather disturbing thought: whoever ended up Guiding Han Suryeon was going to have their work cut out for them.

As night fell, the air turned crisp and cool. Despite the biting wind, the streets were as crowded as ever.

‘This is going to be a pain.’

Crowd control was going to be a nightmare.

“You’re awfully quiet, Taehwa hyung.”

Yoon Taehwa, his senses on high alert as he scanned their surroundings, barely registered Han Suryeon’s words, his focus solely on the mission at hand. The casual use of the honorific ‘hyung’, while unexpected, didn’t faze him. He’d been the one to encourage it in the first place. Operational secrecy often trumped formalities, and when it came to covert operations, using familiar terms like ‘hyung’ instead of ‘Team Leader’ was standard protocol.

Their targets were primarily Espers and Demihumans, individuals with heightened senses. Even the slightest slip-up, the most insignificant detail, could blow their cover. It was crucial to blend in, to appear as non-threatening as possible.

Which is why they were currently forgoing their standard-issue Esper uniforms, opting instead for civilian clothes that allowed them to blend seamlessly with the crowds.

“You’d think I’d be used to it by now, the way you push me away.”

“Seeing another man’s… that’s not something you get used to. And it’s not like you whipped it out or anything.”

Yoon Taehwa couldn’t believe they were having this conversation, let alone on a crowded street. He briefly entertained the idea of ordering Han Suryeon to stay silent, to spare him any further embarrassment.

“Didn’t you say there’s nothing to be ashamed of between men? Besides, you didn’t seem too shy about flashing me earlier.”

“Flashing you? It’s not like I did it on purpose!”

“You recoiled as if I’d shown you something repulsive.”

“Because it is repulsive.”

With a shrug, Yoon Taehwa plunged into the throng of people, leaving a disgruntled Han Suryeon trailing behind him.

“You’ve wounded me, hyung. Deeply.”

“Use this opportunity to reflect upon your actions.”

Their target’s residence was located deep within a maze of alleyways, far from the bustling main street.

While it might have been a densely populated area, the difference between the main thoroughfare and the warren of alleys that snaked between buildings was stark. This presented its own set of challenges. The higher the concentration of people on the main streets, the greater the risk of civilian casualties.

“You know, for someone so infamous, you don’t seem to draw much attention.”

Han Suryeon, keeping a respectful distance behind him, spoke as if struck by a sudden thought.

“Are Korean chaebol heirs not as recognizable?”

“My sister’s the famous one.”

“The eldest Taeseong heir? What was her name…? Was it… Yoon Taeseon-ssi?”

“That’s the one. She’s set to inherit the company. She’s far more interesting to the gossip rags than a lowly Esper like me.”

Of course, Yoon Taehwa had his share of media attention. Mainly for his love life.

It wasn’t unusual for Espers, especially those affiliated with the Center, to find their faces plastered across entertainment news. After all, exceptional abilities often came paired with striking looks.

And Yoon Taehwa, with his family name and his undeniable charisma, was a prime target for the paparazzi.

However, it was his sister, Yoon Taeseon, who captivated the public’s attention. As the eldest heir to the Taeseong empire, her every move was scrutinized, her personal life dissected by the media.

“Besides, people are generally oblivious. It’s not like we’re wearing our uniforms.”

If they had been in uniform, it would have been a different story. The striking black tactical gear, emblazoned with the Center’s insignia, was practically designed to draw attention, to inspire awe and, in some cases, fear.

“Don’t you find the uniforms uncomfortable? I mean, they’re essentially techwear, but they stand out quite a bit in Korea.”

Large-scale Guilds were practically non-existent in Korea, which meant encountering someone decked out in head-to-toe techwear was a rarity. It was a stark contrast to Russia, where heavily armed Espers were a common sight.

“That’s the point. To intimidate. It’s much easier to subdue a target when they’re running scared.”

“That’s true, I suppose. Korea is rather densely populated.”

A faint buzzing sensation against his wrist alerted Yoon Taehwa to an incoming message. His team was in position. Kim Su-an was stationed at a nearby cafe, while Hae Na-eun and Kang Jaemin had secured a vantage point in a high-rise building overlooking their target’s location.

“You have a younger sibling too, right?”

“Looks like you’ve been busy digging up dirt on me instead of finding the Ant.”

“I like to be informed. Especially since you’re being so secretive. Besides, you’d be surprised what pops up when you type ‘Yoon Taehwa’ into a search engine. Who was that actress you were with the other day?”

Han Suryeon had clearly been indulging in some questionable gossip. Yoon Taehwa’s brow furrowed at the mention of a rumor he wasn’t even aware of.

“Yes, I have a brother. And before you ask, his identity is confidential.”

“Confidential?”

“He’s not an Esper. He wouldn’t be able to handle the constant media scrutiny. It was a family decision.”

“So, he’s a normal human?”

“The only Esper in the family is me.”

The cafe where Kim Su-an was stationed was just ahead.

A few more steps brought them within sight of their destination. Kim Su-an, seated at one of the outdoor tables, was pretending to people-watch while discreetly scanning the area. As Yoon Taehwa caught his eye, Kim Su-an subtly shook his head, using a book as cover. Their target’s associates were nowhere in sight.

Yoon Taehwa strolled past the cafe, his pace casual, unhurried. In exactly three minutes, Kim Su-an would fall into step behind him.

“What about yours?”

Yoon Taehwa asked a personal question for the first time. Engaging in casual conversation was the best way to blend in with the crowd.

“Wow, you’re actually curious about me?”

“I believe I mentioned taking an interest.”

“This is… nice. What do you want to know?”

“Kasatka.”

“Why ask me? It’s not my Guild.”

Any information relating to major Guilds was valuable, even if it was just gossip. Although he hadn’t intended to pry, Han Suryeon’s deflection was almost comical in its transparency. A dry chuckle escaped Yoon Taehwa’s lips.

“You seem to know your way around the Center.”

“I have no interest in the Center.”

The flow of pedestrians pushed them closer, their hands brushing momentarily.

“My interests lie with you, Team Leader.”