DPGR 8

“Ngh….”

Dojin clenched his teeth.
The guiding energy that surged over him like a tidal wave was nothing short of violent.
The overwhelming sensations shook him to the core.
His nerves were on edge, hypersensitive, and his lower body reacted against his will.

But before he lost control—
he bit down hard on the inside of his cheek and barely managed to stay conscious.
Then, with great effort, he shoved Jiho’s hand away.
Even that required a tremendous act of willpower.

Tap—

Jiho’s hazy eyes widened in shock.
The only thing that registered in his dazed mind was that he’d just been rejected.

Soon, his eyes welled with tears that spilled over and dripped down.

“Hic…”
“No, it’s not… It’s not because I don’t like you…”

Just then—as Dojin scrambled to console Jiho, who was starting to pout—

“Haa… ugh…”

Jiho’s brows furrowed in pain, and his breathing grew erratic.

“Guide Jiho?”

It wasn’t hyperventilation like before.
More like someone gasping for breath after a long run.

His twisted expression was one of clear distress.

“Guide Jiho? Are you alright?”
“Hah… ha…”

Jiho’s pale face was now flushed red.
After a moment’s hesitation, Dojin pressed a hand to his forehead.

This time, no guiding energy came rushing in—only intense heat radiated from Jiho’s skin.

“I’ll call the doctor.”

The sudden fever—it was clear this wasn’t any normal condition.

Forgetting there was a call button, Dojin rushed out of the room.

When he returned moments later with the doctor, Jiho’s consciousness had already started to fade.

“Patient? Can you hear me?”

The doctor approached Jiho, clearly familiar with this kind of situation, and checked his responsiveness.

But as the doctor’s shadow fully fell over Jiho’s body—

“Ugh… uuh, ngh…”

Jiho sat up unsteadily and began rubbing his hands together.

Soft sob-like whimpers escaped from his lips, and his already small and thin frame curled up even tighter.

—Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hit me. It hurts. I’m sorry. I’m scared.

Jiho’s lips moved as if reciting a mantra.

“Patient?”

Even the experienced doctor showed a flicker of confusion.

After all, this was a ward for elite espers and guides—it was rare to see a trauma response like this here.

But Dojin had seen it before, during his time in the military.
He had met people like Jiho—hostages who had been rescued after suffering terrible abuse.

Jiho had lived through something not so different.

‘Damn it…’

Dojin ground his teeth, recalling the man who had run the illegal facility where Jiho had been held.
Just a twenty-year-old kid—what could he have possibly endured to become this broken?

‘I should’ve hit that bastard a few more times when we were taking him in.’

It was unlike Dojin to think that way—but even so, he kept a calm face as he stepped forward.

“Let me try.”

He gently moved the doctor aside and approached Jiho.

And he noticed—Jiho’s body shrank even more under his shadow.

‘I think I’m starting to understand what he’s afraid of.’

Dojin knelt down on one knee.
Now eye level with Jiho, he looked up at him and spoke in a steady, low voice:

“I won’t do anything you don’t like. Nothing bad will happen. So there’s no need to be scared.”

He wouldn’t hit him.
He wouldn’t hurt him.
This place was safe—the facility that had imprisoned him was long gone.

His voice was low and measured, his words clear, his gaze direct.
Gradually, Jiho’s trembling began to subside.

“Hhuu… hnn…”

His eyes were still unfocused, as if he were drifting somewhere between dream and reality—

‘But at least he’s hearing me.’

Relieved, Dojin spoke again.

“I’m going to hold your hand now, just for a moment. Don’t be scared.”
“Hic…”

He reached out slowly, showing his palm as if approaching a frightened wild animal, holding his breath.

Tap—

His fingertips touched Jiho’s.

Jiho flinched—but didn’t panic, didn’t beg, didn’t scream.

Dojin breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
Still frozen in that pleading posture, Jiho’s hand was gently taken in his.

Though a storm of rage simmered beneath the surface, Dojin’s every movement was calm and devoid of emotion.

“Let’s lie back down now.”
“Nngh…”
“Shh… It’s okay. Come on.”

Meanwhile, the doctor watching from behind was quietly impressed.

Dojin was an esper who often suffered injuries from lack of proper guiding.

Since Dojin had awakened as an esper, he’d been rushed to this hospital more times than he could count.

The doctors here were also quite familiar with him—many had treated him directly on multiple occasions.

And yet…

‘So even Esper Baek Dojin has a side like that.’

Dojin was generally kind to others, but he always kept a strict distance from guides.
It wasn’t that he disliked them—rather, he just felt awkward around them.

‘Probably because he lived as a civilian for so long.’

Civilians didn’t understand the relationship between espers and guides.
And up until just a few years ago, Dojin had been one of them—just an ordinary civilian.

He didn’t vehemently reject guiding, but he wasn’t like other espers who seemed utterly dependent on it either.
There were even concerns that one day he might go berserk due to lack of guiding, given how indifferent he seemed.

But seeing him now…

‘He looks just like an esper with his own guide.’

While those thoughts passed through the doctor’s mind, Dojin gently draped a thick blanket over Jiho and swept aside the damp bangs clinging to his forehead.

His touch was both cautious and tender.

Jiho, completely drained now, had closed his eyes and was breathing faintly.

“He should be okay now. He has a high fever—please take a look.”
“Ah, yes.”

Snapping back to her senses, the doctor approached Jiho again.
The sound of her nearing footsteps made Jiho’s eyelids twitch slightly, though he didn’t open them.

It seemed he had fallen into a light sleep.

Not wanting to wake him and risk a repeat of earlier, the doctor moved quietly as she took his temperature and clipped a monitor to his fingertip.

While checking the monitor, she spoke:

“You said this happened during a guiding session?”
“…Yes.”

A hint of shame and guilt crossed Dojin’s face.

Of course, it had been Jiho who initiated the guiding without warning, and Dojin had resisted with all his might.

Still, the reality remained that this young, fragile guide had guided him—and for that, Dojin felt responsible.

To the doctor, however, those details weren’t particularly relevant. She continued her explanation:

“This monitor tracks a guide’s guiding wavelength. If you look here… hmm. Just as I thought, the numbers are all over the place.”
“Why did it suddenly turn out like this?”
“Part of it is physical condition, and part of it is psychological.”

She manipulated the monitor and recorded the fluctuating readings.

“Using guiding energy while in a weakened state can cause side effects. Most guides receive proper management at the center, so situations like this are rare… but it’s likely the patient hasn’t had access to that kind of environment.”
“…Side effects from guiding?”
“Yes. We’ll need to run more precise tests to be sure. We’ll schedule a health check for tomorrow morning anyway, so I’ll add it to that.”

Though the doctor kept speaking, her words barely registered in Dojin’s ears.

His expression darkened.

Ever since he turned twenty, he’d been surrounded by tough, rugged soldiers.
Since turning thirty, he’d only worked alongside strong espers.

This was the first time he’d encountered someone so fragile—it was almost alien to him.

Was it even possible for someone to be this weak?

‘Whatever the case, I’ll have to ban guiding for now.’

A deep furrow appeared between his brows.

⸻

The next morning.

Jiho’s fever, which had climbed as high as 41°C, finally dropped back to a normal range.

When he awoke, the first thing he did was stare in confusion at the unfamiliar ceiling.
Then he noticed the IV needle in his arm and the packs of fluids dangling beside the bed—his expression turned to alarm.

“Uuuh…?”

His wide, anxious eyes scanned the hospital room, clearly not understanding where he was or why.

From that alone, Dojin realized Jiho had no memory of what had happened the night before.

“This is the medical wing of the center. You weren’t feeling well, so we brought you here.”

Dojin, who had been quietly observing Jiho’s reaction, explained the situation in a calm voice.

Jiho flinched and turned to look at him.

His frightened expression immediately melted into a bright smile the moment he saw Dojin’s face.

“…Hee.”

Jiho laughed softly, like a child.
It was a small sound—but that clear, innocent tone struck Dojin straight in the chest.

To have been guided by someone like that…
And worse—his body had reacted.

Dojin raised a hand and covered his eyes, the weight of self-loathing returning full force.

“…?”

Jiho, oblivious to what Dojin was thinking, tilted his head in confusion when he saw his somber expression.
Just as he reached out with a worried look—Growl—

A loud rumble echoed from Jiho’s flat stomach.