DPGR 6

“Why does Guide Jiho have an injury that wasn’t there earlier?”
Dojin’s voice dropped instinctively.
With a clear sense of authority, he turned his head to look at Park Gitae, who was standing dumbly behind him.
Still clueless, Park Gitae let out a dazed response.

“Huh? Wh-what do you mean…?”
“Did you hit him?”
“M-me? What? No, absolutely not! I didn’t!”
Park Gitae flailed in denial, clearly flustered. He truly hadn’t laid a hand on Jiho—he could swear it to the heavens.

But all the circumstances pointed to one conclusion.
Jiho, found locked inside a dusty storage room.
Park Gitae, outside, counting with a tense and irritable tone.
Jiho’s tear-soaked face and the red, swollen cheek. His complexion, even paler than before.

“Vice-Captain.”
Dojin called Sehun’s name with a low, sharp tone.
Sehun, sensing the tense atmosphere, quickly responded, “Yes.”
“Restrain this guy and bring him back to the Center.”
“W-what? Um… Park Gitae is a member of Gamma Team.”
“I’ll speak with Captain Kim myself. Just get him out of my sight.”

He’s really pissed now.
Sehun made a face, knowing this was going to be a headache.
If there was one thing Dojin hated more than anything, it was people who bullied the weak.
And when it came to children, he was even more sensitive.

He won’t listen even if I try to stop him.
Park Gitae was the youngest son of Taeseong Pharmaceuticals.
That’s why, even though he constantly slacked off, Captain Kim from Gamma Team never disciplined him.

If Baek Dojin punished him here…

“What are you waiting for?”
Dojin raised an eyebrow at Sehun, clearly asking why he wasn’t moving yet.
There was no doubt—Dojin wasn’t backing down.

“…I’ll put him in Alpha Team’s holding room.”
“Good.”
“Esper Park Gitae, let’s go.”
“Wh-why me… mmph!”
“Yes, yes. Quiet now. Our Captain Baek is in a very delicate mood right now.”

Sehun swung his magical staff. A wave of bluish mana sealed Park Gitae’s lips shut with ice.

“Yulchan. Help me out here.”
“On it. I’ll link the space to the Captain’s office.”

As Yulchan used his spatial manipulation ability, Jihye and Kijoon restrained the flailing Park Gitae.

“Mmph! Mmph!”
“Was it this hand? Huh? Did you hit that tiny kid in there with this hand?”
“No choice then! Captain! Let’s just chop his wrist off!”

While the team members each did their part, Dojin stepped into the storage room with long, purposeful strides.
Already on edge due to the lack of guiding and the emotional turmoil from the Park Gitae incident, his nerves were taut.

Jiho had never seen Dojin like this.
Up until now, Dojin had always calmed himself with guiding machines or medication before approaching him.

“Hic…”
As Dojin moved swiftly toward him, his expression was not just stern—it was ice cold.
Only when Jiho instinctively backed away in fear did Dojin realize he had come across as too intimidating.

“Ah…”
A look of regret crossed his hard expression.
He ran a large hand across his forehead and eyes, sighing deeply.

“Phew…”
When he lowered his hand, he seemed a bit calmer than before.

“I’m sorry. I’m just… tired. No, it’s not because of you, Guide Jiho. It’s just…”
“……”
“…Are you alright?”

Baek Dojin didn’t grab the retreating Jiho, nor did he chase after him.
He simply stood still and reached out a hand.

Like someone trying to approach a frightened kitten.

“There’s too much dust here. It’s not good for your lungs. Let’s talk outside.”

Even though he kept his arm extended, Dojin didn’t rush Jiho.
He didn’t move at all, like he was saying “Take my hand only when you’re ready.”

Seeing this, Jiho’s fear slowly began to settle.
His careful demeanor, his gentle gaze—everything about him was unmistakably Baek Dojin.

Something about all this feels strange, but…

Jiho hesitated, then reached out.
His cold hand brushed against Dojin’s.

Maybe… maybe I can form a new kind of bond with Baek Dojin this time.

Originally, he would’ve been taken back to the Center along with Park Gitae and the Gamma Team Espers.
Then, under the name of protection and stability, he would’ve been locked away in the Guiding Room as part of Unpaired Guide Team 1.

But if things continued this way…

“Mmm…”
Jiho approached Dojin, his face still full of fear.
He grabbed the hem of Dojin’s jacket and looked up at him. Dojin flinched slightly.

“First, let’s go to the hospital.”
“Mmm…”
“You don’t like the hospital?”

Jiho nodded.

He had no intention of leaving Dojin’s side.
Even if it was for his own treatment.

Jiho’s goal was to stick to Baek Dojin like a leech, proving his guiding ability.
That’s all he wanted.

“Still, your condition is serious. No matter how much you dislike it, we have to—”
“Uuuh…”

Jiho whimpered on purpose, burying his face in Dojin’s chest.
And then—he gently released the guiding energy he had been holding back all this time.

“Ah…”
The man’s chest, pressed against Jiho’s cheek, vibrated with a low hum. It made sense.

How… how is this kind of guiding even possible…?

The guiding Jiho was emitting felt as if it had been crafted specifically for Dojin. There was no discomfort, no lacking sensation.
It fit perfectly with the irregular wavelength that had earned him the label of “mutant.” A shiver ran through him.

It was as if God had taken pity on him and sent down a guide made just for him.

Is this… what real guiding feels like…?

His heart pulsed heavily. His breathing quickened. Blood surged, and even his lower abdomen ached from the rush.

“Ha…”
Countless people had tried to guide Dojin, vying for the position at his side.
Yet none matched his unique wavelength—not even close.

Which meant… this was the first time Dojin had ever received proper guiding.

If this kind of pleasure and comfort was what true guiding could offer, he could start to understand those Espers who were obsessed with their guides.

“…Guide Jiho. I think it’s best we separate for a moment.”

But Dojin grit his teeth, clinging to the last thread of reason.
They were still in a cramped, dusty storage room. His team was just outside.
And the guide in front of him was far too delicate, and far too young.

He wasn’t the kind of trash who would take advantage of a 23-year-old, bruised and beaten, just because he was overwhelmed with emotion.

But Jiho, unaware of what was running through Dojin’s head, began to panic.
Was it not enough? Why?
I’m the only guide who can resonate with Baek Dojin. The only one.

When it came to guiding—Jiho was confident. His guiding wasn’t just perfect. No, even the word “perfect” didn’t quite do it justice.

It wasn’t just that he had a vast reservoir of guiding energy, or that he had a natural gift for controlling it.

He could do something no other guide could.

He could freely change his wavelength.

“Guide Jiho.”
Dojin’s voice hardened. He reached out and pushed Jiho away by the arms, trying to separate them.

Jiho’s complexion turned deathly pale.

A ringing began in his ears, and that familiar voice—one that had gnawed at him for years—echoed inside his head.

You’d better make yourself useful. You know what happens when you’re not useful, don’t you? Think of your friends. You don’t want to end up like the ones who were thrown away, do you?

“Hah… H-Heuk…”
Jiho gasped, trembling violently.

Years had passed since he’d been rescued from the facility, but he was still trapped there.
His body might have been freed, but his mind had never escaped.

“…Guide Jiho? Guide Jiho!”
“Huff, huff… huff…”

—I’m sorry, Master. I’m sorry. Please don’t throw me away. I’ll do better. I’ll do anything. Please, forgive me. I’m sorry.

His mouth moved constantly, even though he could barely breathe.
When Dojin realized what Jiho was silently mouthing, his eyes widened in shock.

“Ah… ngh, kgh…”
“Guide Jiho!”

Dojin retracted the hand that had pushed Jiho away, but Jiho didn’t seem to notice at all.

His grip on Dojin’s jacket only tightened, his knuckles turning white.

“T-Captain? What’s going on…?”
The team members watching looked equally confused and alarmed.

Dojin cursed under his breath and shouted urgently,

“Hospital!”
“Y-Yes?”
“Get him to the hospital—now!”

By then, Jiho’s eyes were already starting to roll back.
His consciousness began to fade from the effects of hyperventilation.

“…Ho! Guide Jiho! Stay with me!”

Voices sounded faint and scattered. Jiho swayed, then collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut.

“—!”

Strong arms caught him just in time.
Being lifted into the air felt unfamiliar.

No… don’t throw me away…

Even in the very last moment, Jiho clung to the man before him.
If he lost consciousness now, he was certain he’d wake up in the “disposal room.”

Please… please…

He had already been dragged to that place once before.

Thrown away for being “useless,” or for failing to satisfy a client—just like his friends.

“Looks like there’s one left.”
The sound of approaching footsteps. A rough hand grabbing his hair.
And the sharp object drawing near…

“…Guide Jiho?”

Jiho’s body went limp.

He looked like a lifeless doll—pale and devoid of vitality.

“Guide Jiho! Wake up…!”

And as that nightmarish memory closed around him, Jiho’s eyes finally shut.
The desperate voice calling his name—Dojin’s voice—couldn’t reach him.

Unfallen tears slid from the corners of Jiho’s eyes, trailing down his cheeks.
And just like that, Jiho sank deep into unconsciousness.