HLSEBT - 24

24. A Special Existence

“The program is really well-made, isn’t it?”

“Are you being sarcastic right now?”

“No. I’m genuinely impressed.”

The first day had been a company tour. So, what would the second day bring?

As an answer to that question, Yoon Tae-Ha was seated alongside Cheon Geon-young in the largest auditorium the company had to offer. The second day’s schedule began with an unwanted internal seminar.

“On What Lies Between E and G”

That was the title of the seminar booklet. Just from the title, it was easy to guess what the topic would be about.

A casually dressed, approachable-looking guest lecturer stepped onto the stage.

There were roughly 50 people seated in the audience.

Judging by how everyone kept their distance from one another, they seemed to be newly matched Guides and Espers. Some even deliberately left an empty seat between them.

Yoon Tae-Ha sat right next to Cheon Geon-young, sipping on her pre-prepared, bitterly strong coffee.

Before the lecture began, the speaker tried to lighten the mood by throwing out a few casual questions.

“Guides, do you know the one thing you absolutely must cut off for the Espers sitting next to you? We all know by now that our companions are weak to stress. Take a moment to think about it.”

Since they were seated in the very back row, it was easy to feign disinterest. Cheon Geon-young glanced at Yoon Tae-Ha, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

“Alcohol and cigarettes?”

“Painkillers, perhaps?”

Some of the more proactive attendees offered their guesses. Cheon Geon-young quietly asked:

“What do you think?”

Yoon Tae-Ha, who had dimmed her phone screen and skimmed through a sports article, gave a concise reply:

“Baseball.”

No sooner had she finished speaking than the lecturer exclaimed the same answer. A few people chuckled softly. Cheon Geon-young openly peeked at her phone screen, but she made no effort to hide it.

“Do you have a favorite team?”

“No.”

“Then a team you cheer for?”

“That, I do.”

Not liking a team but still cheering for one—it sounded like the kind of line someone with a tragic backstory as a sports fan might say.

After skimming the article titles, Cheon Geon-young figured out which team his Esper disliked—or rather, supported.

Meanwhile, the lecturer moved on to the main topic.

“In the first generation, we all acted like matchmakers. ‘Let’s pair this Esper with that Guide.’ Or, ‘Maybe we should assign two Guides to that extremely dangerous Esper.’“

“...”

“We didn’t ask for the Espers’ opinions back then—and we couldn’t, given the times. Survival was all that mattered.”

The lecturer’s captivating tone gradually drew the audience into the story.

“When I say ‘Espers,’ I’m referring to Professor Yoon’s definition—both E and G.”

Officially, “Espers” was a blanket term for both those with superpowers and those who could calm them.

For convenience, Espers were often narrowly defined as those wielding physical powers, while the unique abilities of Guides were relatively underappreciated.

In a world where flying, fire-breathing, and ice-wielding individuals made the news, the subtlety of a Guide’s power often went unnoticed.

“But you all know this already. Guides… are extraordinarily special beings. Take a moment to look at the face of the Guide sitting next to you.”

Yoon Tae-Ha didn’t turn her head.

Instead, Cheon Geon-young turned to look at her. Her pale fingers brushed her long hair aside, revealing elegant features—a straight nose and beautifully shaped lips.

After a brief pause, the Esper, sensing his gaze, turned to meet his eyes. There was no trace of malice in her round, serene gaze.

A hidden hunting dog.

It was a face that seemed entirely unfitting for such a label—which might explain how she had managed to conceal her true identity for so long.

Yoon Tae-Ha gave a slight nod toward Cheon Geon-young, signaling him to focus on the lecture. At that moment, the lecturer noticed the two of them.

“Look over there. Some of you are already connecting! Physical contact is no longer a necessity in guiding. Every moment of shared thought and awareness of each other’s presence is guiding in itself.”

The lecturer seemed to be mistaken, assuming Cheon Geon-young was the Esper and Yoon Tae-Ha the Guide.

A few new employees, unaware of Yoon Tae-Ha’s identity, turned around and murmured things like, “Ohhh,” impressed by the apparent connection.

Oh please. We literally did nothing. Yoon Tae-Ha pouted slightly in annoyance.

“It’s true what scientists say about the differences in constitution from the first generation. We’ve evolved.”

Evolution. So this was evolution.

Yoon Tae-Ha quietly mulled over the word that had rolled into her mind as she listened to the lecture.

“The relationship between Guides and Espers has become incredibly diverse. There are many cases now where siblings work together as partners. And in the U.S., one Esper even claimed that their Guide wasn’t a human but a cat.”

The audience chuckled, thinking it was absurd. But the lecturer remained serious.

“Do you think Ark would have left such a mutant alone? When they refused to cooperate, Ark sent over expensive machines to investigate. And what happened? Just by gently scratching the cat’s belly, the Esper’s stress levels dropped.”

Maybe I should get a cat too.

Yoon Tae-Ha, having finished her coffee, entertained the random thought. Meanwhile, Cheon Geon-young, oblivious to the idea of competing with a fluffy feline, remained focused on the lecture.

“The most important thing for a deteriorating Esper is empathy. Show interest. Listen to them. There’s nothing more endearing than an Esper who opens their heart to you.”

Having concluded his talk, the lecturer bowed with a satisfied expression.

Yoon Tae-Ha clapped politely. She couldn’t agree with everything he had said.

Especially when it came to Espers falling in love. It was probably just a public service lecture, so naturally, only the positive aspects were highlighted.

New recruits, pumped full of hopeful ideas, began leaving in pairs, chatting with their partners.

Cheon Geon-young stood first and extended his hand toward Yoon Tae-Ha, offering to help her up. She flicked his fingers instead of taking his hand and rose on her own.

Out of courtesy, she asked:

“How was the lecture?”

“Moderately informative, moderately entertaining.”

“Where did you find the entertainment? I’ve heard this lecture more than five times, so it wasn’t interesting to me.”

“The Esper who used a cat as a Guide.”

“That’s real.”

Yoon Tae-Ha had personally met the Esper cited as an example. The details were kept confidential, but the experiment showed a significant reduction in the risk of the Esper losing control.

Cheon Geon-young looked intrigued.

“Fascinating.”

“Someday, there might even be Espers who claim inanimate objects as their Guides—like security blankets.”

After all, low-grade Espers below Class C rarely lose control as long as they take their medication properly. Using humans as Guides introduced too many variables and risks.

She shared her thoughts succinctly. Cheon Geon-young listened quietly before asking:

“Do you have something like that?”

“Something like what?”

“A security blanket, a stuffed animal… something precious to you.”

“Do you feel insecure about your position?”

“How could I not? Given how hard I worked to get here, isn’t it natural to feel that way?”

His face showed no trace of greed, which made her smirk inwardly.

“I don’t have anything like that.”

If I did, I wouldn’t have made it this far. Yoon Tae-Ha kept the rest of her thought to herself.

---

Yoon Tae-Ha and Cheon Geon-young diligently completed the programs assigned by Ark, behaving like model students. One of these included watching movies about Espers and Guides.

At the moment, they were seated side by side in the company lounge, filling out surveys related to the films.

“I’m done.”

“I still have about twenty questions left.”

“Take your time. It’s not like we have anything else to do anyway.”

It was only natural that she finished faster since she already knew the lines by heart.

While waiting for him, she absentmindedly swiped through the posters displayed on her tablet.

“What did you find most interesting?”

“The Replica Library.”

“You really like intense stuff, huh?”

It was a movie about an Esper who hid their love to avoid being paired with a Guide, and the Guide who later discovered the truth and went mad.

Though the story was melodramatic, it was praised for its brilliant cinematography and delicate musical score.

Truthfully, it was the over-the-top drama that made it interesting. Yoon Tae-Ha didn’t dislike the film—it was just difficult to watch sometimes.

As Cheon Geon-young continued filling out the survey, head bowed, Yoon Tae-Ha noticed how soft his tie looked.

“Are such cases common?”

Shaking off the urge to touch it, she replied in a surprisingly gentle tone:

“Occasionally. Just when you think you’ve seen it all, another one pops up…”

“I always thought Espers were the more unstable ones. This was refreshing.”

“It’s more dramatic and entertaining that way.”

Yoon Tae-Ha answered dryly, as if discussing someone else’s story.

“The strongest beast in the world, writhing in agony and dying miserably without my touch. Even if I were the director, I’d still film that.”

“I didn’t think you’d find such stories interesting.”

“In the end, they’re all made-up stories anyway.”

Passersby openly stared at the man seated across from her with undisguised curiosity. When a female Esper approached, Yoon Tae-Ha willingly shifted her body slightly to make her presence known.

The approaching woman’s face turned as pale as paper, and she quickly scurried away in small, hurried steps.

What a magnet for attention. It seemed he was already drawing in all kinds of Espers. She could feel the exhaustion creeping up on her just thinking about it.

“That’s why Guides take sedatives. Seeing that scene made me understand it instantly.”

“The actor did a great job. I wondered how someone ordinary could express that so well…”

“Ordinary?”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t seem like something an ordinary person would relate to.”

She tilted her head quizzically. Cheon Geon-young responded with a gentle smile:

“It’s about losing the ability to save the one you love. You don’t have to be a Guide to understand how painful that is. Anyone can express that kind of suffering.”

He was absolutely right. “You’re right,” she agreed softly, then naturally shifted her gaze from his face to fix it on the hard surface of the desk.

Only after Cheon Geon-young returned his focus to the survey did she begin flipping through the booklet handed out during the seminar they had attended earlier.

As she absentmindedly tortured a corner of the paper with her fingernail, she broke the silence that had been tolerable until now:

“Anyway, don’t worry too much.”

“Why not?”

Why not? Yoon Tae-Ha wanted to counter his question. Cheon Geon-young had hired her to exterminate the swarming pests within his family’s domain.

Homeowners rarely worried whether pest control workers were afraid of bugs. Sure, they might get upset afterward if any pests remained—but that was beside the point.

Fundamentally, he and she were partners whose interests aligned perfectly.

Those who agonized over failing to guide were invariably those who had genuinely fallen in love with their Espers. From the very beginning, the two of them belonged to a completely different category.