Leaving the Director General’s office, my steps felt heavy. I let out a low sigh, and Joo Seunghyuk pulled me toward him by the waist.

“Hyung.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you actually want to do a matching rate test with that bastard Park Geonwoo?”

Even in a situation where the so-called New National Treasure No. 1 might have been damaged, Seunghyuk looked like he couldn’t care less.

“Is that really what matters right now?”

“Then what does matter?”

He looked straight into my eyes as if he genuinely didn’t know. This guy... hopeless. And to think I’d wasted time worrying he might change his mind about me—that was the most pointless use of my life so far.

“There’s no way to justify refusing to do the test with Park sunbae.”

“A way to justify it?”

“Yeah...”

I wasn’t Seunghyuk’s imprint or his exclusive Guide. Sure, I was his assigned Guide, but it was only temporary. I was the one who’d been emphasizing that all along.

As long as I was an unaffiliated Free Guide, I had no grounds to refuse a matching rate test with another Esper. But if I said that, it would only provoke him.

“It’s an emergency right now...”

I dodged the issue, but Seunghyuk squeezed my hand tightly.

“Should I just get rid of that bastard Park Geonwoo? Then you wouldn’t have to do the test.”

He meant it. If it was something I hated, he’d do anything. Looking into his eyes—pure to the point of blind devotion—I shook my head.

“...No. Then I wouldn’t be able to see you. I don’t want that. Don’t do anything bad.”

“Okay.”

He stroked my cheek, then gave me a light kiss.

“Hyung, want to imprint with me?”

“...Should we?”

If he’d said that before, I would have made up every excuse in the book to refuse. But now... I couldn’t help thinking that maybe imprinting with him wouldn’t be so bad.

Love and imprinting carry different weight.

I’d only just felt love for the first time in my life—I wasn’t prepared to commit to spending forever with Seunghyuk.

This wasn’t something to answer on impulse. I knew that. I did know that.

“Will you really imprint with me?”

His eyes went wide at my reply, black irises brimming with pure joy and longing. Looking at them, I couldn’t bring myself to take my words back.

“Are you sure you’re okay with it?”

“With what?”

“Our matching rate might have dropped, you know.”

We’d once recorded an incredible 93.872% match. Maybe it had gone up even more over the past seven years, but there was also a good chance that when his guiding rejection symptoms subsided, all his matching rates with Guides rose temporarily.

If the test result came back lower, it would mean our increase had been a temporary phenomenon, and that his rejection symptoms had recovered. That would erase any reason for him to insist on guiding with me.

He might even be disappointed in me...

“It hasn’t dropped.”

He said it with utter certainty, interlacing his fingers with mine. His grip was warm, as if he would never let go.

“Every time I guide with you, I feel it. There’s no way it’s gone down. Don’t you feel the same, hyung?”

“I don’t know.”

When you guide someone, you can usually guess your matching rate—nothing precise, but you get a general sense. But with Seunghyuk, I couldn’t tell.

“I’m not sure of anything...”

When it came to him, I couldn’t be confident about a single thing from start to finish.

“I’m sure, so don’t worry. And what does the matching rate matter? If Lee Yeonsu says yes, we should imprint right away.”

A laugh slipped out before I could stop it. Words from Seunghyuk that once would have made me tremble now made me happy.

I was smiling at him when the Director General’s office door opened and Park Geonwoo came out.

We were standing too close together. Embarrassed, I tried to step back, but he only pulled me closer by the waist.

“Seunghyuk!”

“What is it, hyung?”

He looked up at me with those wide, guileless eyes, blinking like he didn’t have a clue.

That look was pure bait—gearing up to tease me. He only said “hyung” with his mouth.

I glared at him, but then Geonwoo’s voice reached me.

“Yeonsu, let’s go. We need to hurry if we’re going to make it to Hyeonmu Hall.”

Hyeonmu Hall was where Jinhwan was kept.

“Sure. By the way, what were you talking about with the Director General?”

“No time.”

He spoke like I was the one wasting it. We’d been standing here waiting for him to come out, and now he acted like I was dragging things out. Unbelievable.

“...Alright.”

I swallowed my annoyance and lowered my head.

***

Hyeonmu Hall was set apart from the rest of the Center. You could walk there if you wanted, but given the urgency, we traveled by car.

When we arrived, a staff member in a Center uniform came to guide us. It was a stark contrast to the mostly black suits worn by the Inspection Division.

His expression was stiff. An outsider might think it was because of the recent attempted theft of Jinhwan, but the staff here were generally expressionless and tense.

They’d worn the same look back when I was in middle school...

“First, we’ll conduct the matching rate test for Esper Park Geonwoo and Guide Lee Yeonsu. The two of you, please follow me. Esper Joo Seunghyuk, please wait in the car.”

“Only Seunghyuk?”

“Yes. Having an ability user as strong as Esper Joo nearby could affect the results. Of course, when Esper Joo and Guide Lee conduct their matching rate test, Esper Park will wait outside.”

“Alright.”

I answered and looked at Seunghyuk. It was just a short separation, yet it already felt reluctant.

“See you in a bit, Seunghyuk.”

“Yeah. I’ll be right there.”

“Mm.”

After giving his hand a firm squeeze, I went into the building with Geonwoo.

We passed through several doors under the staffer’s guidance. Security seemed even tighter than when I was in middle school—not just mana wards, but devices to block modern weapons and technology.

And yet the culprit had gotten through all this to reach Jinhwan. Whoever it was...

In Korea, maybe only someone like Joo Seunghyuk could manage it. Even with multiple upper-rank Espers working together, I couldn’t think of an S-rank who would try to steal Jinhwan. Could it have been a foreigner?

I eyed the heavy doors. Each one was covered with a different barrier, and each carried a different mana signature.

Something felt off. Despite having been attacked only hours ago, there were no traces of intrusion or defense at all. One or two layers, sure—but all of them?

It was possible with an exceptional spatial-type Esper, but still... something didn’t add up.

“What are you thinking about, Yeonsu?”

“Oh, nothing.”

Shaking off the suspicion, I followed behind Geonwoo.

“This brings back memories.”

His voice was relaxed, unfitting for the gravity of the situation.

“Remember when we came here to do a matching rate test together?”

“Yes, I remember.”

Of course I did.

I’d been in class when the Center suddenly called. They said it was urgent, so I left school early and rushed over—only to be told to do a matching rate test with Park Geonwoo.

Leaving school for something like that was ridiculous. But the Center acted like letting me use Jinhwan was some great honor, telling me to remember it and repay the favor someday.

In other words, they wanted me to walk into the Center arm-in-arm with Geonwoo. Even then, I’d had no interest in getting tied up with the novel’s second male lead, but I’d held my tongue to avoid bickering with Center staff.

If I argued, I’d just be called an upstart who didn’t know my place—lucky enough to awaken as S-rank and already getting above myself.

Ability-user society was closed-off. Some people were happy about an S-rank Guide appearing, but others went past dismissal into outright contempt because I was from a Beta, non-ability-user family.

When I’d arrived at Hyeonmu Hall that day, Geonwoo was there. We went in, did the test, and the result was 85.018.

It was far higher than I’d expected, and everyone seemed surprised. Geonwoo himself looked oddly grim, but the Center staff were delighted.

A high match between an S-rank Esper and Guide could only be a good thing, after all.

When they heard the result, the Center director called us in and gave us a long speech about leading Korea well.

Boiled down, his hour-long lecture meant “imprint immediately for the good of the country.” Public opinion was against him over corruption, so he wanted to distract the people by having us imprint.

It was infuriating, but I’d swallowed it down in front of him and left the Center.

In the parking lot, Geonwoo’s father came striding up with a furious face.

“Ah, congratulations. Your matching rate is over eighty-five percent.”

A staffer offered congratulations, but Geonwoo’s father exploded.

“Who gave you permission to conduct a matching rate test! Who do you think you’re pairing my son with?!”

...

I’d been looked down on plenty for being from a poor, Beta, non-ability-user family. But even if I was used to it, that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt—especially when it was said to my face.

“Father!”

Geonwoo, glancing at me, tried to stop him, but the man’s anger wouldn’t abate.

“Did I say anything wrong? Geonwoo, if something like this comes up, you should ask me first!”

“Father, please stop.”

Nothing good would come from sticking around. I bowed to the staffer and said I’d head off, then started walking toward the bus stop. A sharp voice stabbed into my back.

“Know your place!”

Even if I had vague memories of my previous life, I’d been a middle-schooler then. Maybe a bit more mature than my peers, but still a kid. I’d known Geonwoo’s father’s words were unjust, but I’d just swallowed it down without saying a thing.

In the end, a Center staffer chased me down and drove me home. I wasn’t one to cry where people could see, but I think I sobbed all the way back that day.

Time had passed, and the hurt I’d felt then had long faded. But whenever I remembered it, a pang of regret would flare—I had no intention of getting involved with your son anyway!—and even now, the thought still made me angry.