DPGR 49

On the way home, Jiho kept tapping Dojin every time they stopped at a red light.

He wanted to talk.

— Do you think Heendungi will really be okay? He must be scared and lonely all by himself.

— I want to buy a toy for Heendungi. What do you think he would like?

— Isn’t the office a bit too cold? I should get a cushion so Heendungi can rest comfortably.

Everything Jiho said was filled with concern for the monster—Heendungi.

We can’t exactly just walk a monster around wherever we please.

There still weren’t any proper regulations in Korea regarding monsters in everyday life.

After all, no one had ever brought monsters into dungeon raids before, so there hadn’t been any reason to create rules for coexisting with them.

But the situation had changed.

A total of thirteen monsters had been rescued from illegal breeding facilities—and all thirteen had recently shown successful signs of taming.

Even so, the monsters were still confined to the underground levels of the Awakening Management Center, where the Esper Director had arranged temporary facilities.

The Center had requested legal regulations as soon as the monsters were brought in.

But upper-level officials were split in opinion, questioning how they could possibly let monsters roam where ordinary citizens walked.

Until the matter was resolved, bringing monsters out of the building was strictly forbidden for the safety of all.

— I’m just really worried about Heendungi.

Jiho understood the situation perfectly well. But that didn’t make it any easier to stop thinking about Heendungi.

The way the little guy whimpered as he watched Jiho leave after work… Jiho felt so bad that he almost wanted to stay the night with him in the team leader’s office.

Of course, that wasn’t realistic. So it stayed just a thought.

“…Haa.”

He let out a sigh, his face clouding with worry over Heendungi.

Dojin could tell how much he cared, but Jiho’s mood didn’t improve.

“Heendungi will be fine. Kijoon and Yulchan said they’d take turns looking after him.”

Kijoon and Yulchan, who lived near the Center, had kindly volunteered to care for Heendungi.

Dojin reminded him of that to gently steer his thoughts elsewhere.

“More importantly…”

“……?”

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

— What is it?

Though Dojin started lightly, he quickly fell silent, hesitant to go on.

Jiho noticed this hesitation, and sensing that it was something serious—maybe the same thing that had darkened Dojin’s mood earlier—he straightened up in his seat.

His attentive expression helped ease Dojin’s nerves a little.

“…Ha.”

Letting out a faint laugh, Dojin stole a glance at Jiho before looking back to the road.

His voice was steady but slow.

“You remember getting a check-up at the Center hospital before, right?”

Jiho nodded.

“The doctor said…”

Dojin explained the results of the thorough examination, as well as what the doctor had told him privately.

That Jiho’s body was completely healthy.

That his inability to speak might be due to psychological trauma.

And that with proper therapy and counseling, he could very likely regain his ability to speak—and live more comfortably than he did now.

Jiho’s eyes widened as he sucked in a breath.

Dojin expected some kind of immediate reaction. He peeked at Jiho’s expression—but it was unreadable.

“…Guide Jiho?”

Even Dojin couldn’t tell what Jiho was feeling.

Was he happy? Sad? Angry?

It was all mixed up.

He’s… confused.

That was the name Dojin gave that expression. Jiho looked completely lost in emotion.

“Guide Jiho. What do you think about all this?”

“…Mm.”

After a soft noise, Jiho opened his mouth slowly.

— I… don’t know.

Dojin had pulled the car over to the side of the road so they could talk properly.

Now he turned his head to face Jiho, who was also looking at him, lips moving again.

— You’re saying… I can talk?

“Yes. With the right treatment, the doctor believes you can.”

— How?

“…Sorry?”

At Jiho’s uncertain question, Dojin blinked. Jiho pulled out his notebook and pen again.

In the quiet car, the sound of pen on paper was crisp.

[What do you mean, I can talk? How?]

“Well, through therapy—”

[I’ve always believed I lost my voice because of medication side effects.]

Medication?

A flicker of surprise crossed Dojin’s face.

Seeing that look, Jiho wrote more, sensing Dojin wanted an explanation.

[I’ve been on various meds since I was a kid. I used to be fine, but once, I took something from a client… and I ended up vomiting blood.]

After that incident, Jiho had lost his voice.

So he’d always believed it was because of that unknown drug.

He’d never once thought he might be able to recover.

“…Do you know what kind of… who gave you that medication?”

Dojin stopped himself just short of swearing.

His voice had dropped, the tension rising again.

Shake, shake.

Jiho shook his head. From the start, none of the guests he’d met had ever told him their real names or identities.

All he remembered were vague features—and even those faded quickly unless the person had visited frequently.

His memory had severely deteriorated due to the stress.

Hearing this, Dojin’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

He pitied Jiho deeply—and despised the people who had fed him that garbage and abused him.

He regretted ever having let the person in charge of that guiding facility off so easily. He’d been far too complacent back then, and now he blamed himself for it.

“Guide Jiho… do you want to receive treatment?”

Dojin asked him directly. Jiho looked around uncertainly, his gaze drifting, before he opened his mouth.

— I don’t know.

Despite the answer, there was a hopeful glint in Jiho’s eyes.

Still, he seemed to be bracing himself, afraid of being disappointed if he got his hopes up too much.

Dojin understood that caution all too well.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday. Why don’t we go to the hospital again and get another check-up?”

“…?”

“You can decide after hearing directly from the doctor. There’s no rush.”

Jiho hesitated, then finally nodded. Dojin smiled and gently ruffled his hair in encouragement.

***

“The vocal cords are clean, see? This here is the hearing test. Your hearing’s perfectly normal too, and the language center is functioning fine.”

The next day, Dojin and Jiho sat with anxious hearts, waiting to hear the test results.

The doctor, responding to Jiho’s request for a thorough explanation, gladly took the time to go over everything.

“There’s no damage to the part of your brain responsible for speech. Everything looks completely fine.”

— Then…

“The reason you can’t speak isn’t because of any physical problem. I heard your past environment wasn’t ideal. Is that true?”

Jiho nodded, his face growing a little pale.

Under the table, Dojin gently took his hand.

The doctor pretended not to notice and continued explaining.

“It might be the result of psychological trauma or prolonged stress. That’s outside my specialty, though… It’d be better to hear the details from someone who specializes in that area.”

Then the doctor turned to Dojin.

“Do you still have the card I gave you last time?”

“Yes, I kept it in my wallet.”

“Dr. Cha is a friend of mine. A very skilled doctor. You should try to visit him. I’ll let him know ahead of time, so go ahead and call today if you can.”

“Thank you very much.”

Dojin bowed his head deeply, his emotions packed into that brief gesture.

The doctor smiled, clearly pleased by Dojin’s care for his guide.

To think the man who once kept a careful distance from guiding was now this soft when it came to his own guide—what a nice change to see.

“Well, that’s all for today. I hope next time you bring good news, Mr. Seo Jiho?”

He ended with a lighthearted smile as he properly addressed Jiho by name for the first time.

Jiho, cheeks flushed, gave a bright, confident nod.

His caramel-colored eyes shimmered with hope, anticipation, and joy.

‘Maybe I really should’ve told him sooner.’

Ignoring the guilt that pricked at him, Dojin forced a smile. But for some reason, his mouth tasted bitter.

Back home, Dojin pulled the business card from his wallet and called the number.

Thanks to the doctor’s prior arrangements, they managed to get a counseling appointment surprisingly quickly.

— Tomorrow?

“Yes. It’s normally a day off, but Dr. Cha said he wanted to see Guide Jiho.”

Both Dojin and Jiho were deeply grateful that the doctor was willing to make time outside of working hours.

— Do you think… I can really be treated?

“Are you nervous?”

— A little.

“It’ll be okay. Try not to worry.”

Dojin gently reassured Jiho, who looked a little tense, silently praying that everything would go well.

And just like that, morning arrived—the day of the long-awaited counseling session.