A Week of Silence
For someone carrying the dazzling epithet of "the Guide whose compatibility rate with Han Yi-hyeon approaches 90 percent," she was remarkably ordinary.
The Guide's parents had lost their lives to a monster when she was young, and she had grown up in her maternal grandmother's care—until, at sixteen, she was left entirely alone. After enrolling in a prestigious high school, she had juggled part-time work while keeping up excellent grades, right up until the eve of the CSAT, Korea's college entrance exam, when she awakened as a Guide. Since being assessed C-rank, she had been living in a penthouse inside Guide City, provided by the government.
A truly ordinary story, all told. So ordinary that you could grab any Guide within arm's reach and find a personal history much the same.
If anything set her apart, it was that as a child she had vanished for roughly half a year after being caught up in a monster attack, only to turn up again as if nothing had happened.
And one more thing.
"Still, if she could produce a compatibility rate this high, she must have felt different from other Guides somehow. Why was she only discovered now? Didn't you sense anything, Department Head Seo Joo-hwan?"
"We haven't been able to answer that question ourselves. As you've seen, Guide Baek Yeo-eul's compatibility rates were extremely low."
Seo Joo-hwan shook his head at Se Yeon-ah's words.
Just as he said, Baek Yeo-eul's compatibility rates had been low enough that she'd been teetering on the very bottom line of C-rank.
The peculiar thing, however, was her high affinity.
In a word, it meant her guiding went smoothly. Every Esper who had partnered with her even once had, without exception, filed at least one request to extend the arrangement.
Do Geon drummed his fingers against the table as he studied the photograph of the Guide—still in her school uniform, baby fat not yet gone from her cheeks, staring stiffly into the camera.
Eighty-nine percent. An unprecedented figure, never once recorded in South Korea. If it reached the media, the Guide's identity—and every detail of her private life, down to what she'd bought at the market yesterday—would be shaken out for the whole world to pick through.
But this isn't bad.
Han Yi-hyeon's history with Guides was already public knowledge—everything that could be known about it, was.
Han Yi-hyeon, an S-rank Esper and a perpetual lightning rod for controversy, exerted no small influence on the nation. And now, of all things, he had found a Guide matched to him at a staggering 89 percent?
It would undoubtedly redound to the country's benefit. Nations already in cooperation would want to keep the alliance alive; those still testing the waters would come forward with offers of partnership first. In practice, every time an A-rank or higher ability user emerged, the nation grew more stable and more prosperous.
As a bonus, it was a prime opportunity to settle the public unease over the Gates that had been appearing so frequently of late. Do Geon would never let such an opening slip by—the answer was already decided.
"Let's have it ready for release to the press shortly."
"Yes, Director."
No one had any reason to defy Do Geon, Director of the Guide Protection Center. Once the emergency meeting—attended by only three of the five department heads—drew to a close, Do Geon called Seo Joo-hwan back.
Tap.
"Where is Esper Han Yi-hyeon right now?"
He asked the question as he set down the Guide's file, which he had not let go of once during the entire meeting.
"He's with Guide Baek Yeo-eul."
"Good. Bring them both here."
"That's... a somewhat delicate situation."
Do Geon wondered whether the two of them were in the middle of a guiding session, but Seo Joo-hwan shook his head.
"It's not guiding."
"Then what is it?"
Seo Joo-hwan hesitated before answering.
"The thing is... Guide Baek Yeo-eul has been in a coma for a week now."
Twitch. Do Geon's eyebrow flinched, ever so slightly.
Seo Joo-hwan, who knew it was his habit whenever a situation displeased him, hurried on.
"She fainted the moment she took the re-matching test with Esper Han Yi-hyeon and was transported to the hospital."
"And you're telling me this only now?"
At the menace in Do Geon's voice, Seo Joo-hwan swallowed hard.
This was, unmistakably, his own mistake. She was Han Yi-hyeon's Guide—the one person who demanded the closest attention right now—and he had treated her like any ordinary C-rank Guide.
"I apologize."
Seo Joo-hwan bowed low.
The saving grace was that Do Geon let it pass with nothing more than a faint sigh.
"Any external factors?"
"None. Esper Han Yi-hyeon caught her when she lost consciousness and collapsed."
"Esper Han Yi-hyeon did?"
"Yes."
That Han Yi-hyeon, of all people?
Do Geon narrowed his eyes. Seo Joo-hwan didn't appear to be lying, but measured against Han Yi-hyeon's usual conduct, the claim was hard to swallow.
So she really is Han Yi-hyeon's Guide, then.
It's like meeting the other half of my destiny. That was what they said—those vanishingly rare pairs whose compatibility rate and affinity aligned against impossible odds, who boasted phenomenal guiding effects with their partners. They never demanded that the bewildered Espers and Guides around them understand. They hadn't understood it either when they first heard those words, they said; they simply felt it the moment they looked at each other.
This is the one.
And apparently, that was exactly what Han Yi-hyeon had felt toward this Guide.
For Do Geon, who had no need of a Guide thanks to his self-guiding, it was an emotion he would never come to know. Not that he would accept it even if it were offered—such a useless emotion.
After all, it neither tipped important decisions toward better outcomes nor contributed anything to the nation's development.
"There is something I can think of."
Whatever meaning he had read into Do Geon's silence, Seo Joo-hwan hastily added:
"Half a month ago, Guide Baek Yeo-eul was deployed to the field for the first time. Her aftereffects were said to be unusually severe."
Most C-rank Guides, who had only ever guided from the safety of the rear, suffered aftereffects after their first field deployment.
"On top of that, it seems she found it difficult to accept that she had become the Guide of Esper Han Yi-hyeon at an 89 percent match."
Seo Joo-hwan was wringing out the circumstances of that day to dodge the blame for his mistake. His excuse wasn't an outright lie. He had assumed she was simply dazed with joy and let it slide—but looking back, Baek Yeo-eul's face as she stared at the matching machine had been unmistakably pale.
Her weary face, devoid of any vitality, had grown visibly worse after the matching result appeared.
Don't tell me... Does she dislike Han Yi-hyeon?
The thought, once it surfaced, chased its own tail. What if—what if, just what if—
What if she rejects her partner?
Catastrophe.
By the numbers, for every ten Espers who awakened, a mere two or three Guides appeared.
The government needed Espers, but Espers needed Guides. Guides rarely tested into the higher ranks as it was—an A-rank Guide typically ended up partnered with six or more Espers apiece.
In a word, a glaring imbalance of power existed between them.
Espers were the ones at the bottom of the ladder; Guides held all the leverage. He had to secure Baek Yeo-eul, whatever terms it took. Seo Joo-hwan was racking his brain for conditions she could never refuse when—
"...!"
Do Geon shot to his feet.
Standing before the enormous window with a clear view of Guide City and the regions beyond, Do Geon swept his gaze swiftly across the tranquil scenery.
Sensing that something was deeply wrong, Seo Joo-hwan had long since cast aside every stray thought.
"Director."
"Bring me Esper Han Yi-hyeon. Now."
Wheeeeee—!
The moment Do Geon pressed the red bell, the emergency alarm split the air.
It was the alarm rung only when one of the monsters that surfaced without warning from time to time showed itself.
People flinched, shuddering with a chill they couldn't name at the murderous aura pressing thick into the corridor. The more sensitive among them even gagged.
Who on earth would unleash killing intent inside a hospital, of all places, where patients were meant to be resting? Eyes narrowed, heads turning in search of the source—and once they found it, everyone quietly went on their way.
The wellspring of that killing intent, seeping out as though a monster had appeared nearby, was none other than a certain VIP hospital room.
"Haa..."
Even from a distance, it was enough to bring on dry heaves. Ha Yoon-seo, a department head at the hospital, exhaled a long, deep sigh.
You see, one week ago, S-rank Esper Han Yi-hyeon had come to the hospital—carrying a woman limp in his arms.
Everyone had taken her for a corpse and nearly fainted on the spot.
"W-wait just a moment. She's alive."
Thankfully, she was not a corpse.
Because she had been the first to notice the steady rise and fall of the woman's chest—and thus the first to realize she wasn't dead—Ha Yoon-seo had been appointed attending physician to the patient Han Yi-hyeon had brought in.
Why on earth did I do that?
Ha Yoon-seo wanted to slap her own reckless mouth shut.
An attending physician devoted to a single patient earned a rather handsome fee. So Ha Yoon-seo had been pleased with herself—no symptoms to speak of, and easy money on top.
But now that was precisely the problem. The absence of any symptoms.
Suppressing a deep sigh, Ha Yoon-seo approached the hospital room. Sure enough, the door slid open before she could even reach for it.
Not a word was spoken.
At the sight of the man standing beyond the door that had opened without a sound, Ha Yoon-seo swallowed back a scream.
This monster of a human being.
Even with the corridor bustling with people coming and going, the man unfailingly sensed her approach the moment she drew near and opened the door for her. Truly, he was monstrous.
"Esper Han Yi-hyeon, good afternoon. Today's examination results—"
Before she could even finish, Han Yi-hyeon turned his back and returned to his place. Ha Yoon-seo ground her teeth as she watched his retreating figure.
Th-that rude...!
For an instant she thought him insufferably discourteous—but then Ha Yoon-seo recalled the string of zeros trailing the weekly attending-physician fee that had landed in her account just yesterday. At once her anger dissolved like cotton candy dropped in water, and a smile of genuine warmth spread across her face.
Her employer might be short on manners, but he was long on money. For Ha Yoon-seo, that was more than enough.
She stepped closer to the bed. A woman lay there, dark hair spread carelessly across the pillow, eyes shut fast. She looked as peaceful as someone simply asleep.
Baek Yeo-eul.
Reciting the patient's name, Ha Yoon-seo paged through the results of the comprehensive examination taken that morning.
No matter how many full workups they ran—one every single day—the results came back normal, normal, and normal again.
And yet Baek Yeo-eul did not wake. Breathing and nothing more, like the dead—by every measure, her diagnosis was a coma of unknown cause.
There was, however, one thing: Ha Yoon-seo had reached her diagnosis long ago, yet for a full week now she hadn't dared let a word of it pass her lips. All because of that oppressive man who never stopped staring holes through her—Han Yi-hyeon.
Ha Yoon-seo's keen instincts were telling her, plain as day: the moment she declared this woman comatose, she would be the one waking up in a hospital bed.