Chapter 152

Just before Jaeha could give up, something crackled inside his body. It wasn’t his will.

“Uh…?”

Almost letting go without thinking, he suddenly gripped Aiden’s hand tight, so hard his knuckles went white.

“Ugh…!”

It felt like electricity was jumping along his veins. It hurt, yet at the same time there was a strange sensation as if something blocked had finally come unsealed. It was like someone was forcibly wringing his heart to make it beat.

“What the hell.”

Jaeha wasn’t the only one who sensed the change. Even though an adult man was crushing his hand hard enough to hurt, Aiden didn’t seem to care about the pain; he just stared at Jaeha, startled—startled enough that the polite veneer he’d kept up dropped and a curse slipped out.

Jaeha stared back. In Aiden’s eyes, he glimpsed his own irises shimmering with light. The pale grass-green color rippled like waves, brightening into vivid teal.

“Jaeha-ssi.”

But there was no time to dwell on it. Something rang in Jaeha’s head—loud. Yes, even though he wasn’t an esper, he heard something. Aiden’s voice. But not the voice of the Aiden standing in front of him.

“Jaeha-ssi!”

It was his Aiden.

“Will this really work?”

“We have to make it work.”

“Guide Aiden, can you really do it?”

Aiden didn’t answer. He just squeezed his eyes shut, focusing hard to control what lay inside this small, inexperienced body.

“……”

He had always prided himself on handling this with absolute freedom—but the thought that another person’s life might literally hinge on his hands felt both horrifying and painfully real.

Aiden learned something for the first time: how miserable it is to doubt the talent that had overwhelmed others and shone all his life.

“Hey. Isn’t this cheating?”

Combat-type espers—especially the super-strong—were pinning down the boss by each arm. Aiden stood before him, focused.

“My arms hurt, hey. They’re gonna break. Are you really doing this?”

The boss, occupying Jaeha’s body, flapped the captured arms lightly. He grumbled, but didn’t seem genuinely upset or rebellious—if anything, curious.

Apparently he considered this attempt part of the game—part of the fun. A look that said, Let’s see what these humans are trying, then.

“Guide Ye Aiden. It’s time.”

“……”

“There’s not much time left.”

[0 days 3 hours 22 minutes 32 seconds]

“I know—just give me a second.”

The team leader was exercising immense patience. They had planned to consider eliminating Jaeha once 5 hours remained, but he had waited—whether because he believed in Aiden, or wanted to.

Meanwhile, although Aiden had thought up a “method” rather quickly, he hadn’t even been able to attempt it until now. It was reckless, and he needed practice.

“……”

In fact, everyone who heard Aiden’s “method” wore doubtful expressions.

“Is that possible?”

“Can… we really do that?”

“That works?”

Espers and Guides alike were shocked and skeptical. But when the only S-rank Guide in Korea says he can—and there’s no other option—they had to trust him. They couldn’t tell whether Jaeha was lost or fighting inside.

Even for Aiden himself, it took time to get a feel for a method he had never tried.

“Hoo…”

“So solemn. Gonna give me a kiss or something?”

“Shut it.”

Hearing Jaeha’s voice made his guts boil even more.

“On my mark. Hold him tight.”

“Yes.”

Jaw clenched, Aiden addressed the espers pinning the boss. Confirming their grip, he reached out—

And began to guide.

Yes. Guiding was what Aiden did best, and so he would use guiding.

“Work, work, damn it, please work…”

He stroked the wave with exquisite delicacy. He had matched it perfectly before; that part wasn’t hard. He tuned himself to the fine, sizzling, popping wave, missing not a single spark of that uniquely complex psychic frequency.

“Huh?”

“……”

“Feels good, actually. Are you guiding me? I thought you’d stab me with a knife.”

The boss bantered, but Aiden ignored him, letting warmth seep in very slowly, deeply—so the body would feel safer and relax. It was young and inexperienced, so it required care.

And the instant he sensed every muscle and cell of the body he loved and knew so well go slack—

Aiden sharpened the guiding into a blade.

“—!”

In a flash, every muscle and tendon in Jaeha’s body went taut. Sharing the body meant sharing pain, it seemed; the boss’s expression flinched. The espers restraining him tensed as well.

It’s fine. This can work.

He was a genius. He knew it clearly, had never doubted it in his life.

No matter how high an esper’s rank, he could toy with them through guiding alone; he had even tortured Baek Beomwoo with guiding.

Simple principle.

Espers need guiding. For an esper, guiding is as essential as water for survival.

And, absurdly, espers could also drown in that water-like guiding.

Knowing that, Aiden had always stood above espers—enjoying how he could jerk their leashes, rejoicing in holding their lifelines.

Guiding was not always sweet to espers. Sometimes it was clear water that quenched thirst; sometimes it was a razor-edged block of ice. Either way, it delivered what was needed.

So Aiden reasoned:

If Jaeha currently exists “inside the mind,” as the boss claims—if he persists there, not erased—then he can be pulled out.

The body and the mind are connected. Strike the bowl, and the water inside will ripple. Like slapping a fainted person’s cheeks to wake them.

He honed the edge and struck a loosened body.

“Ghh…! Hah, hah…”

He knew how painful this was for espers. He wanted to minimize pain, but a jolt was necessary. Jaeha—no, the boss—stiffened like a man electrocuted.

“Jaeha-ssi!”

“—gh!”

Aiden shouted, because something flickered across Jaeha’s eyes—a change. The gold-shimmering irises blinked, flashed green for an instant, then snapped back to gold like a lightning strike.

“Jaeha-ssi!”

“Urgh—hah…”

Aiden yelled again. He alternated—like pouring water slowly over parched sand, then freezing it into knives—between soothing warmth and a sharp scrape. The process was so intense that even the restraining espers seemed to flinch, as if feeling the painful guiding indirectly.

“Jaeha-ssi…!”

But the effect was not as dramatic as the pain, and time kept slipping.

Longer than expected, and fear bit into Aiden.

“Haha… hahaha…”

Worse, the boss, even while groaning, began to laugh. A bad sign.

Whoever the occupant, this put enormous strain on an esper’s body. What if, after all this, Jaeha didn’t come back?

If he didn’t.

If he really didn’t…

Terror closed a fist around Aiden’s throat. His focus slipped, just for a moment. The boss sneered and spoke.

“Wow. That really hurts.”

“……”

“We almost ended the game for real there.”

He smirked, though his lips trembled with aftershocks—like his muscles still carried tiny electric remnants.

If “almost ended the game” was true, then it wasn’t entirely ineffective. But pushing further might be too dangerous—Jaeha’s body was already near its limit.

Just 30 seconds—no, even 10—to let the body reset, then again…

Forcing himself to think calmly, Aiden tried to pour warmth into the body again.

And at that moment—

“……”

He felt something tap the back of his head. Hard. Cold. The espers restraining the boss jolted in alarm, eyes going wide, and Aiden immediately understood.

A gun.

“If you can’t do it, move.”

A flat voice drilled into his ear.

“We’re almost out of time.”

Who else could it be.

“Baek Beomwoo!”

“Damn it…!”

Whether they’d grown complacent because he’d behaved for so long, or because he was simply that skilled, no one had stopped Baek Beomwoo from getting close to Aiden.

Despite the chill at the back of his skull, Aiden didn’t turn around. He only cursed his own carelessness. Now he remembered why, as a child, he’d come out of a gate with a broken arm. Why had he forgotten that until now?

Instead of answering or moving aside, Aiden only let out an irritated sigh.

The voice spoke again, behind him.

“If you can’t clear, then better to kill him now.”

Spoken in a tone utterly devoid of lingering attachment—especially for someone who supposedly felt something for Jaeha.