DPGR 7

“The collapse was caused by temporary hyperventilation. He must’ve been under a lot of mental stress. Hm… other than that, as you can see—malnutrition, bruises…”

Inside the hospital, where Dojin had rushed carrying the unconscious Jiho.
He listened to the doctor while keeping his gaze fixed on Jiho, who lay motionless on the bed.

The doctor handed him a test result sheet.
“But more importantly, Esper Baek Dojin. I think you need to look at this first.”
“What is it?”
“I heard the incident happened during guiding, so I called in the research team to see if the hyperventilation was related. They did a quick test.”
“A quick test?”
“A compatibility test. Take a look.”

The doctor offered the results again. Dojin took them, still puzzled.
The document listed Jiho’s name, date of birth, an analysis of his guiding energy, his estimated classification—and Dojin’s compatibility rate with him.

“…Therefore, the estimated matching rate between Guide Seo Jiho and Esper Baek Dojin is confirmed to be 99.99%.”

Dojin froze when he saw the number at the bottom.

The doctor, noticing Dojin’s reaction, judged it wasn’t the time for further conversation and quietly left the room.

“Captain Baek? What’s wrong? Is the matching rate not good? You said the guiding worked, right?”
“Maybe it’s because it was a quick test? Once the guide wakes up, we can run it again properly…”
“…No.”

Dojin cut them off, rubbing his face as if trying to wake himself up.
Even after blinking several times, the number hadn’t changed.
Not 9.9%. 99.99%.

Is this even real…?
He had expected a certain degree of compatibility—but this? This was beyond belief.

A number like this couldn’t exist… unless some divine force had truly sent him the perfect guide.

“Hmm…”
Dojin let out a low sound. Sehun, who had been watching him quietly, tilted his head in curiosity.

How high could the matching rate be…?
Unable to resist, Sehun leaned over and quickly scanned the paper—then gasped sharply when he reached the final line.

“N-N-Ninety—!”
“What? Deputy Leader, did you just turn into a pigeon?”
“Aww, should we get you some puffed rice too?”
“Hyung, noona… that’s kind of rude…”

Kijoon and Jihye teased him, but Sehun didn’t even hear it.
How could he?

“99.99%? Am I seeing this right?”

His voice shot up in disbelief. Kijoon, Jihye, and Yulchan all gaped.

“W-What did you just say? 99.99%? That’s insane…!”
“No way, no freaking way… I can’t even form words right now.”
“…Is that real? You’re saying it’s really 99.99%?”

The team crowded around Dojin and glued themselves to his side.
When they confirmed it with their own eyes, their reactions grew even more dramatic.

But amid the commotion, Dojin stayed silent.
His mind was too clouded. Words failed him.

“Captain, congratulations…”
Finally—a guide with a high matching rate.
Sehun, overjoyed as if it were his own success, began to congratulate him—until he noticed Dojin’s expression and stopped.

They finally found someone compatible. So why… why does he look like that?

Any other Esper would have thrown their arms in the air with joy.
But Dojin looked anything but happy.

In fact, he seemed deeply troubled.

“Captain? What’s wrong?”

This time it was Kijoon who asked, his earlier joking tone gone.
Even he could feel the tension in the air around Dojin.

Dojin frowned and pointed to one part of the test sheet.

Jiho had introduced himself as 23 years old, but according to the records… he was actually 20.

Maybe Jiho had lied.
Or maybe he had spent so long in a facility that he genuinely forgot his age.

But that didn’t matter.
What mattered now was that Jiho had just turned twenty—a baby, in Dojin’s eyes.

“He’s too young.”

“Mm. Yeah, twenty is young. But it’s not impossible, right? Twenty is legally an adult. And age doesn’t really matter if the match is right. Some pairings are made with even twenty-year gaps.”
Jihye shrugged and added,
“There’s only a 14-year difference between you two anyway.”

“…Only fourteen?” Dojin asked, almost incredulous.
“Come on. Just saying. If we’re being honest, you still look like you’re in your twenties. You two look like a decent match visually.”

Jihye had always been open-minded about age gaps between Espers and Guides.
After all, her own partner had a 9-year age gap with her.

The rest of the team seemed to agree.
Having spent their lives in the Esper system, their way of thinking wasn’t exactly “conventional.”

But Dojin was different.
He had lived 30 years as a normal civilian.
It had only been 3 years and 2 months since his awakening and subsequent Esper training.

“He’s not twenty. He was just born.”
“…Excuse me? Twenty and just born…?”

The team stared at Dojin, and Dojin stared right back.
They couldn’t understand each other.

Twenty was young, yes—but not a newborn.
Yet to Dojin, it was the same thing.

Especially because Jiho looked so small and frail—too thin, too delicate.

“So what, are you planning to ignore that guide from now on? Even though you don’t know when you’ll meet someone like him again?”
“Or do you want to go into Overdrive? Is that your kink or something?”

Jihye and Kijoon took turns teasing him. Even the usually quiet youngest, Yulchan, delivered a blow.

“The Center’s probably got their eyes on that guide. Even his provisional classification came out as AA-class. If they’re still babying Esper Park Gitae, and the match rate fits…”
“…He might end up paired with Park Gitae instead.”

That would certainly make Park Gitae happy.
At Yulchan’s mumbled remark, a vein bulged in Dojin’s temple. His clenched teeth ground hard enough to make a noise.

“No. That can’t happen.”

“Oh? So you don’t want him for yourself, but you also don’t want anyone else to have him?”
“It’s not that…”
“Then think about it again. So what if there’s an age gap? Isn’t the guide’s own feelings what matter most?”

Kijoon, uncharacteristically serious, offered the advice.

“Ask him when he wakes up. I mean, it’s not like sex-guiding is the only option. With a matching rate this high and his rank being what it is, even hand-guiding might be enough.”

In other words, even if they became a pair, it could just mean holding hands—that might be sufficient.

Granted, with a 99.99% matching rate, “just holding hands” might be unrealistic.

Still, Dojin found himself nodding along without realizing.
He figured—he was well-trained, he could control himself. Resisting temptation shouldn’t be difficult.

What he didn’t yet know was that this conclusion assumed Jiho wouldn’t make the first move.

“Hmm.”
It did seem like a reasonable plan.

While Dojin was silently agreeing, Jihye curled her fingers and mock-gagged at Kijoon.

“Ugh, I think I’m gonna lose my hands and feet. Why are you acting all serious all of a sudden?”
“Aww, Kijoonie is always serious!”
“You’re dead.”
“Ack! Don’t glare like that—it hurts Kijoonie’s little heart—Aah! Ow! Kijoonie’s hurting! Save me, Deputy Leader!”

“…Good grief.”
Sehun shook his head, exasperated. He glanced at Dojin, still deep in thought, and nudged the others toward the door.

“Alright, let’s take this outside. You two can finish your bickering out there. Captain! We’ll leave you for now.”
“…Alright.”
“You’ll stay with the guide until he wakes up, right?”
“……”
“We’ll submit a leave request on your behalf. Might as well take the time to rest. You haven’t had a real break in ages.”

Dojin let out a faint chuckle. It was a hollow smile—but still better than being frozen in place.

Only then did Sehun seem relieved, herding the squabbling Jihye and Kijoon and the ever-struggling peacemaker Yulchan out of the room.

Click—

The door closed. Dojin was left alone with the still-pale Jiho.

“…Ugh, uh…”
Was he having a nightmare? A faint crease formed between Jiho’s brows.

His lips moved slightly, letting out weak sounds.

“…Jiho.”
“Hhh….”
“Guide Jiho.”

Had he heard him?
Jiho’s eyelids fluttered—but he didn’t open his eyes. He just kept letting out faint whimpers.

And then, a tear gathered at the corner of Jiho’s eye.
Seeing that, Dojin reached out.

He hesitated as his hand neared Jiho’s face—so small, so young-looking—but finally, his fingers touched the tear-streaked skin.

“Nngh…”
“Shhh—it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

His calloused thumb gently wiped away the tears, smoothing the furrowed brow.

That was all.
Wiping a tear. Smoothing a wrinkle.
Just light, shallow contact.

And yet, even that was enough for Dojin to clench his teeth against the surging energy he felt.

He wanted more.
He wanted to touch more.

He wanted to press his lips to those slightly parted, soft lips—
to explore deeper inside—

‘You disgusting bastard…’

Disgusted by his own thoughts, Dojin flinched and quickly tried to pull his hand back from Jiho’s face.

Tried.

“Mm…?”

Jiho’s eyelids trembled again—and opened, revealing soft hazel-brown eyes.

“Hhhng…”

Still half-asleep, Jiho reached up and grabbed Dojin’s hand.

“G-Guide Jiho…”

He leaned into that large, rough palm. Rubbed his cheek against it.

If he hadn’t done that…

“Ah…”

Dojin let out a groan.

An overwhelming wave of guiding energy surged into him, enough to send shivers straight through his spine.