Ghost Apple

The place where the previous owner of the heart had been imprisoned and subjected to experiments was the Association’s secretly operated Fourth Ability Analysis Research Facility.

Due to a rampage by an S-rank Esper, the entire grounds of the facility had been completely destroyed, and all personnel involved were reported dead. Not a single person survived, and all research data was supposedly lost.

That was what everyone believed.

But in truth, there was one missing person.

The sole Guide of the Fourth Ability Analysis Research Facility.

An abnormal ability user, modified through countless experiments to be able to guide anyone regardless of imprinting, matching rate, or wavelength.

His corpse was never found.

Seo Won, operating under the assumption that the Guide might still be alive, dispatched his projections far and wide, focusing his search on the shadows.

A Guide affiliated with an unofficial lab would never voluntarily walk into the Association. Someone with abilities like his would be dragged back into a lab the moment he set foot inside.

That’s how valuable the abilities of that modified Guide were.

Seo Won had to find him before the Association did and locked him away again.

So he sought out all manner of unregistered Guides, sending his projections to receive guidance in their stead, checking to see if the resulting energy flow reached his main body.

And at the end of that long search, he found the man standing before him now—Cha Han-gyeom.

Before enforcing a coercive contract, Seo Won dangled a bait tempting enough to persuade him.

“A massive crackdown and search targeting unregistered ability users is about to begin.”

“What do you mean…?”

“There’s a fairly credible report that unregistered ability users are forming a terrorist organization. The Association’s higher-ups plan to use this opportunity to round up the unregistered and, at the same time, reinforce their woefully lacking pool of Guides.”

Watching Han-gyeom’s tense expression, Seo Won continued with unwavering certainty.

“When that happens, the first to get snatched up will be those back-alley Guides with no real protection.”

He wasn’t wrong.

The number of Guides in the Association was woefully inadequate. Espers already manifested at a low rate, but the rate for Guides was nearly ten times lower.

As a result, whenever the Association launched sudden searches, those street Guides were always the first targets. Having met numerous Esper clients and learned real-time guidance control through hands-on experience, they were often deployed into the field immediately upon being taken in.

But precisely because there were so few Guides, the ones they had were pushed to their limits. On top of that, under the pretense of managing and protecting ability users, most Guides were forced to live entirely within the confines of the Association and subjected to strict control until the day they died.

Ordinary people, unaware of the truth, believed that Guides were treated with lavish care and luxury by the Association. It was all a carefully constructed illusion.

Most unregistered Guides, knowing the truth behind it all, chose the path of fugitives. In the end, they either became partner Guides to wealthy unregistered Espers or wandered around guiding Espers they didn’t even know—just another back-alley Guide.

In truth, what had Han-gyeom so tense wasn’t the grim fate awaiting street Guides like him, but Song Jae-woo.

From the Association’s perspective, it was far easier to track down a Guiding broker who actively sought out clients under the radar than a Guide who stayed hidden behind an informant, quietly waiting for a partner.

In other words, once the Association moved in earnest, Song Jae-woo would be the first to be in danger.

“Think carefully. Song Jae-woo doesn’t have any other Guide but you, does he? It’s not like he even wants one.”

Just how much had this man investigated?

Maybe… maybe Kim Hye-seong had handed over the information before disappearing.

No, it’s more than likely she did.

When he was kidnapped, this man had deliberately sent non-ability users. It was proof that he already knew about Han-gyeom’s unusual ability to easily subdue Espers. That knowledge must have come from none other than Kim Hye-seong. And the information about Song Jae-woo likely came from her as well.

“If you sign a contract with me and stop working as a street Guide, the danger to Song Jae-woo naturally disappears too. That guy can’t run the business without you.”

First, Seo Won dangled the bait using the Association—then added Song Jae-woo into the mix. And after that, he delivered the final blow.

“Besides, you’re one of the Association’s research outcomes.”

Han-gyeom’s expression darkened instantly.

“You really think they’ll just leave you alone once they find you? A Guide who can perfectly guide any Esper with maximum efficiency—even with an imprint?”

Even as he spoke, Seo Won couldn’t help but covet Han-gyeom. Even without the imprint, he’d have gladly cleared out a room just to keep him close by.

Of course, that was only if Han-gyeom were a genuine unregistered Guide—not some filthy street Guide who offered up his body to just anyone, no matter how well he guided.

No matter how good a Guide he was, Seo Won had no intention of touching someone who’d done such degrading work. The only reason he was making an exception was because Han-gyeom was the one imprinted to his heart. The revulsion… well, that couldn’t be helped.

“I can hide you. No matter how powerful the Association is, they can’t just waltz in here uninvited.”

Still, since Han-gyeom hadn’t signed the contract yet, Seo Won reined in his emotions and softened his tone.

“I need my Guide—someone who can provide me with guidance. And you need your Esper—someone who can protect you no matter what.”

He wrapped up his offer with unwavering resolve.

“We can’t live apart.”

To some, it might have sounded like a sweet declaration. But in the taut atmosphere, where unseen threads pulled tight between them, it landed more like a formal declaration of war.

“So sign the contract.”

Seo Won had laid everything out. And if Han-gyeom still refused, then he was prepared to use any means necessary until he got his answer. He didn’t particularly enjoy playing dirty, but if it was for the sake of extending his barely hanging-on life, he’d do whatever it took.

Han-gyeom lowered his head and remained silent for a while. From where Seo Won sat, he couldn’t see his expression or guess what thoughts were running through his mind.

Eventually, Han-gyeom lifted his head. His face had calmed, as though he’d already sorted through all his emotions.

“…Fine.”

He accepted it without blaming or resenting anyone, and that’s what made it all the more unsettling.

It made Seo Won want to peel back that emotionless mask and see exactly what was hiding underneath.

Under Seo Won’s sharp gaze, Han-gyeom kept his eyes fixed on the contract.

“How much do you know about my guiding?”

He asked without lifting his head.

Seo Won stared at his dark hair for a moment before answering plainly.

“I heard you have a power that goes beyond standard guiding—something that can shut down an Esper’s abilities.”

Han-gyeom had used that ability—BEN, or Blocking Extrasensory Neuron—on occasion to deal with particularly unruly clients. The red energy he sent through the channel would temporarily block parts of the ESP pathways, leaving the target with a sharp, electric jolt followed by partial physical paralysis.

“You probably got that ability from that place, didn’t you?”

Seo Won’s eyes narrowed with contempt as he mentioned the lab Han-gyeom had been kept in.

A collection of test subjects gathered for research—among them, Han-gyeom had been the only Guide tasked with caring for the others.

No documentation remained of the facility Han-gyeom had come from. All Seo Won had were a few secondhand notes: remarks from an S-rank Guide of the Association and brief bits of intel from informants.

But even that was more than enough to stir his disgust.

A Guide, having a power that could suppress an Esper—how absurd.

How many Espers had he slept with to acquire that ability?

Still, what he disliked even more than the nature of Han-gyeom’s power was something else entirely.

Did this man not value his own life at all?

To Seo Won, Guides were some of the most privileged people alive.

Unlike Espers, they didn’t live under constant threat of a rampage. And if they simply aligned themselves with the Association, they could live their entire lives under its protection—safe, and virtually immortal.

Even a survivor of a fully sealed-off research facility like Han-gyeom could’ve built a symbiotic relationship with the Association, had he just marketed his abilities and used the media to his advantage.

Choosing instead to live like a disposable street Guide—where death could come at any moment at the hands of an unregistered Esper—seemed idiotic.

In Seo Won’s eyes, nothing was more important than life itself.

And so his contempt sharpened into a blade that silently stabbed at Han-gyeom over and over.

Han-gyeom didn’t bother defending himself. Even though that ability hadn’t been something he asked for.

Instead, he tested the waters.

“Was it Hye-seong noona?”

“Information brokers will do anything if you pay them enough.”

There was no need to drag it out—the answer came immediately.

Still, Han-gyeom didn’t intend to blame Kim Hye-seong for selling his information.

That had been her job.

And even if she’d tried to hold back, a man like Seo Won wouldn’t have let it go anyway.

So that’s why he only sent people without ESP after me.

Now it made sense why the group that had gone after Song Jae-woo was different from the one that had come for him.

“So all he knows is that I can guide multiple Espers even while imprinted… and the ESP suppression?”

There was a reason Han-gyeom had brought up Kim Hye-seong—he needed to gauge the extent of Seo Won’s knowledge.

He had to know exactly how much this man understood about his abilities.

If Seo Won’s information came solely from Kim Hye-seong, then it wasn’t a problem. That much was manageable.

But if he knew everything—if he knew all that the Cha Han-gyeom from that place could do…

It’s fine. It doesn’t seem like he knows that much.

Seo Won’s intel only scratched the surface.

That thought lightened the invisible weight pressing down on his shoulders, if only a little.

With his thoughts now in order, Han-gyeom uncapped the fountain pen.

“I’ll sign. But I want a few things amended first.”

He directed the silver nib toward the section detailing the payment terms.

“Send all the money I’m supposed to receive to Song Jae-woo. I can’t use banks, so make it all cash.”

He crossed out the payment method with thick pen strokes, then wrote down the changes beside it in his own hand:

Party A shall deliver the full monthly payment due to Party B in cash, via designated proxy ‘Song Jae-woo,’ on the last day of each month.

Seo Won watched quietly from across the table before finally asking,

“You’re not even working with him anymore—why does he need that much money?”

“It’s how it’s always been. He won’t think anything of it. He’ll make good use of it, I’m sure.”

“How noble of you.”

Seo Won let out a derisive chuckle.

From the moment he’d learned that Cha Han-gyeom was the Guide imprinted to his heart, he’d conducted a thorough investigation into anyone even remotely connected to him.

That included Song Jae-woo. And based on what he’d found, he had a pretty solid grasp of the kind of person Song Jae-woo was.

Seo Won’s expression gradually turned cold.

“You must’ve really liked the one who left that imprint on you.”

Han-gyeom paused mid-stroke, the pen frozen in his hand.

“Does he know?”

“…Jae-woo doesn’t know anything.”

The stalled pen resumed movement, sliding to another section of the contract as Han-gyeom added a new clause:

“Do not mention anything about the imprint to Song Jae-woo. Not about his brother. Not about you and me.”