DPGR 9

Jiho’s pale face suddenly flushed a deep red.

Thinking back, during that time, he hadn’t been eating properly.
It was partly his form of rebellion, but mostly because the stress had dulled his sense of taste and killed his appetite.
But even without an appetite, hunger didn’t just disappear. Jiho clutched his stomach restlessly.

Fainting like a fool and being taken to the hospital—he’d clearly caused a huge hassle for Dojin.
And Dojin’s expression wasn’t exactly cheerful right now. Jiho was certain Dojin found him to be a bother, and now his stomach was making things even worse.
Jiho rubbed his stomach while sneaking glances at Dojin.

As if he’d read Jiho’s thoughts, Dojin quickly relaxed his expression and spoke kindly.
“Come to think of it, you must be hungry. If it were up to me, I’d at least get you some porridge…”
He trailed off, looking slightly troubled. Jiho tilted his head in confusion.

Just then, they heard movement beyond the hospital room door.

Knock knock.

After a neat knock, the door opened.
The person who entered was the doctor who had first examined Jiho and checked on him the night before.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Delighted to see Jiho conscious, the doctor approached the bed.
She asked a few questions to Jiho and Dojin before flipping through the chart.

“Let’s see… your fever’s gone. The antipyretic worked well—what a relief, right?”

The doctor then explained the tests Jiho would need to undergo.
“First, we need to do a full health check. According to your blood test, you’re severely anemic, and your inflammation levels are high. We’ll need to check for any possible organ damage. And also…”

Jiho stared at the doctor with wide, unblinking eyes as she chattered away.
So basically, he couldn’t eat for a few more hours.

Perhaps interpreting Jiho’s look, Dojin leaned in and whispered softly,
“She’s a skilled doctor. If you follow her instructions, she’ll help you get better.”

“…”

“…The tests shouldn’t be too painful. Once we’re done, I’ll make sure you get something delicious. So please cooperate.”

The word cooperate sounded a bit off, but Jiho nodded obediently.
After all, it meant he would be fed, eventually.

‘I thought I might starve for days, but a few more hours is manageable…’

Unaware of Jiho’s thoughts, Dojin felt quietly relieved and continued listening to the doctor—though his gaze never left Jiho’s profile.

“…And we also need to do a guiding compatibility test. I suspect last night’s fever may have been a side effect of guiding. Until we get the results, no guiding.”

At the mention of a guiding ban, Jiho’s expression turned a bit glum.
Not eating for a few more hours was fine, but being told not to guide—that was harder to accept.

It was an understandable reaction.
He felt a sense of duty, a kind of mission, to guide Dojin.

Of course, Dojin, who knew nothing, couldn’t understand Jiho’s response.

‘So he reacts to the word “guiding.” Come to think of it, he was obsessed with guiding me from the very beginning.’

Even if he didn’t know Jiho’s exact thoughts, his actions made the intention clear. Dojin wasn’t dense enough to miss it.

Seo Jiho had fearlessly attempted to guide him, a stranger.
When rejected, he’d hyperventilated and collapsed.
Even in the hospital, he’d tried again to guide—recklessly, to the point of causing side effects. Desperate. Urgent.

Why?
‘There were other espers around when we first met. Why me…?’

Was it just because he’d offered a hand first? Could such a small act of kindness have imprinted Jiho like a duckling following its mother?

Dojin absentmindedly touched his chest, a habit of his.
The necklace he always wore wasn’t there.

A suspicion formed—could Jiho’s behavior be related to the missing necklace?

His animal-like instincts were picking up on something strange.

‘I should contact my mentor.’

He thought of Esper Kwak Jiheon, the mentor who had gifted him the necklace.

⸻

—“Oh ho, it’s been a while. How have you been?”

Hearing the familiar voice on the other end of the phone, Dojin relaxed and smiled slightly.
“I’ve been well, sir. And you?”

—“Come now, you know me. Haven’t you heard ‘no news is good news’?”

The two exchanged pleasantries for a while.
Dojin felt a sense of comfort in the energetic tone of Kwak Jiheon’s voice.

Sensing the subtle shift in Dojin’s emotions, Jiheon cut to the chase.
—“So? Why’d you call?”

“Ah, well…”

Dojin again reached for his chest, only to remember the necklace was gone. He lowered his hand.

“The artifact you gave me… it broke.”

—“…What? It broke?”

“Yes.”

—“And the magic? Do you still feel its presence?”

“Barely. Just a faint trace. It seems it was used.”

—“…Huh.”

Kwak Jiheon let out a low hum, clearly disturbed.

—“Used…?”

The artifact Jiheon had given Dojin was a revival artifact.
An item that rewinds time at the moment of the wearer’s death.

But not just anyone could use it.
Only the person recognized as its rightful owner.
And once recognized, that designation couldn’t be changed.

The artifact had identified Dojin as its owner.
So, if it had been used…

That could only mean one thing:
At some point in the future, Dojin had died.

—“…Do you remember anything?”

“No. Nothing at all.”

—“…I thought as much.”

Since it was the only artifact of its kind in the world, no one knew exactly what effect it would have when used.
Judging by the fact that Dojin had no memory of it, it must have truly only turned back time—nothing more.

“If I had retained my memories, it would’ve been easier to prepare for death.”
It would have been helpful to know when, where, and how he had died.

There was a bit of regret, but even so, Dojin couldn’t help but feel relieved.
One way or another, he was still alive.

—“Nothing strange happened?”

“Something strange?”

—“It wasn’t like any other artifact. It literally reversed the flow of time—there has to be some kind of backlash.”

At those words, Dojin instinctively looked toward the clinic door—the one Jiho had gone through.

“Well… I don’t know if you’d call it strange exactly, but…”

Dojin hesitantly explained what had happened.
Of course, even to his mentor, he couldn’t reveal details about the mission. So he focused mostly on Jiho and the things that had left him puzzled.

Kwak Jiheon listened silently, then murmured,
—“A guide who suddenly appeared… Yes, I think there’s something going on too.”

“Could that guide possibly… know about the future?”

—“Maybe, maybe not. It doesn’t really make sense for someone else to remember what even the user doesn’t… I honestly can’t give you a definitive answer.”

Jiheon sounded a little apologetic, but Dojin quickly waved it off.

“It’s alright. I’m alive thanks to the artifact you gave me.”

—“And what good is that if it means you might be in danger again?”

“I’ll be more careful from now on.”

At Dojin’s words, Jiheon let out a quiet chuckle and spoke in a slightly wistful voice.
—“You’re supposed to live longer than me. That’s why I trained you.”

“Of course. Don’t worry, I’ll live to a hundred.”

—“Ha! That’s the spirit! Let’s meet up soon. And next time, bring that kid along too.”

“That kid?”

—“Your guide, of course.”

Your guide.
At those words, Dojin’s face flushed.

“…It’s not like that yet.”

—“Sure, sure. You’re always so stiff.”

“Master…”

—“Alright, alright! I’ll hang up now.”

The call ended abruptly.

Dojin stared at the phone screen for a moment, then let out a sigh.
Just as his mentor said, it didn’t make sense for Jiho to remember the future.
Even he, the one who used the artifact, had no memories at all.

“…Then, is his obsession with guiding me just a coincidence?”
Some kind of imprinting, like a duckling following its mother?
That explanation didn’t quite sit right. There were too many suspicious details.

Dojin’s expression darkened.
Just then, the clinic door opened and Jiho stepped out.

“Ah.”

Seeing Dojin standing in front of the door, Jiho’s eyes widened. His large eyes curved into a cheerful arc.

Dojin welcomed him as Jiho approached, dragging his IV pole behind him.

“All finished?”

Nod. Jiho nodded proudly. Dojin’s previously somber expression brightened.

“Well done. Next is… ah, the urine test. I’ll go with you to the restroom—”

Shake shake!
Jiho shook his head quickly this time. His cheeks were tinged pink—clearly embarrassed.

“Then I’ll wait here. Go ahead and come back when you’re done.”

At the idea of going alone, Jiho looked visibly relieved.
Dojin suppressed a smile and watched him walk away.

Just then, a voice called out to him from nearby.

“I have something to discuss with you.”

“Yes?”

When Dojin responded, the doctor gestured toward the exam room.
He glanced in the direction Jiho had gone, then followed the doctor back inside.