Chapter 2 : Worlds Apart, Yet Bound Again

After Sekyeom cut off contact like that, Jihan agonized over it for a very long time.

Why did Sekyeom cut ties the moment he manifested as a Guide?

It had been a whole three years.

During that time, whenever Jihan thought of Sekyeom, that question always came up.

Though his pride was hurt, Jihan had no choice but to admit it.

The fact that Sekyeom had cast him off, fearing he might become a burden.

Sekyeom was one of the few S-rank Espers in Korea, and the guild he belonged to, Taepyeong Guild, was considered the best in the country.

Furthermore, the fact that the guild master was Sekyeom’s paternal uncle was so famous that almost everyone knew.

During his active period, he was such a promising Esper that there was talk of him becoming Korea’s first SS-rank Esper.

Thanks to his handsome looks, he was more popular than most celebrities.

Was that all?

Sekyeom even came from a wealthy family.

As the precious only son of a well-known family, the amount of money Sekyeom earned himself was unimaginable for an ordinary person.

In contrast, what about Jihan?

He was a B-rank, an ambiguous rank neither high nor low, and the guild he belonged to, Yangmyeong Guild, also had an ambiguous level of recognition.

Most importantly, even three years after manifesting as a Guide, Jihan didn’t have a single proper paired Esper.

Because of this, he drifted through support teams and rarely went out to the field, so he couldn’t earn much money.

He wasn’t particularly good-looking, nor did he come from a good family.

A person defined solely by the word ‘ordinary,’ with no outstanding qualities whatsoever.

That was Yoon Jihan.

So, even if he didn’t want to admit it, he had to.

He and Sekyeom lived in different worlds.

This wasn’t just about the difference in wealth or family background.

Jihan was an ordinary B-rank Guide just starting out, while Sekyeom was an S-rank Esper basking in the public eye.

The gap between their worlds was as vast as the difference in their ranks.

‘He must have cut contact because he was scared I’d drag him down.’

That was the conclusion Jihan had reached.

There was no other way to interpret Sekyeom’s sudden disappearance from his life.

However, even under Jihan’s gaze burning with anger, Sekyeom’s eyes remained calm.

It wasn’t easy to read the emotions hidden in his deeply sunken eyes.

Actually, it was more accurate to say he didn’t want to know.

“Changsu told me to make sure you two reconcile this time…”

“I know. Changsu’s probably going to cry on his wedding night.”

Sensing the tense atmosphere that wasn’t likely to ease up, Hyeonwoo muttered in a gloomy voice.

Across from him, Homin took out his phone, worrying about Changsu crying during his honeymoon.

Watching his two subdued friends, Jihan let out a short sigh.

Then, after a moment, he uncrossed his arms and picked up his glass.

He felt bad seeing his friends looking so dejected.

“Hey, forget it. Let’s just have a drink and go.”

After speaking, Jihan downed his glass alone.

He felt sorry for his two friends trying hard in the middle, but his pride wouldn’t allow him to clink glasses with Sekyeom.

This was the most he could do.

At his cold attitude, Sekyeom smirked and then tossed back his drink in one go.

As he put the glass down, he spoke to Jihan with what seemed like a very affectionate smile.

“Don’t be like that. It’s been a while, let’s talk.”

Jihan glanced up at the absurd remark and slammed his empty glass onto the table.

“What more is there to say between us? Forget it.”

It was a heartless reply, enough to warrant hurt feelings.

Yet, Sekyeom smiled as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“It’s true our relationship didn’t need words, ‘our relationship’.”

“What are you…? Hey, stop playing with words. I’m not in the mood for that with you.”

“Jihan.”

Jihan shot a cold glare at Sekyeom, who was latching onto nonsense.

Sekyeom, who had been smiling even while meeting that accusatory gaze, called his name seriously, causing Jihan’s expression to harden as well.

“I missed you a lot. So I’m glad to see you again, even like this.”

Caught completely off guard by the unexpected answer, Jihan, who had been holding his head high like a venomous snake, looked stunned.

A question flickered through his eyes, now devoid of hostility: ‘What the hell is wrong with this crazy b*stard?’

Jihan quickly looked towards his other two friends, signaling for help.

However, his friends, who had been quietly observing the situation, were unfortunately not on his side.

“Yeah, Sekyeom must have felt uncomfortable too after what happened with you. So let’s both just make up now, okay?”

“That’s right, Jihan. Sekyeom asked me about you a lot. That’s why I set up this meeting today.”

“…”

Jihan frowned, annoyed by his friends’ attitude, which felt more like they were placating a five-year-old nephew than taking his side.

This was all Shin Sekyeom’s fault for spouting strange things.

So he glared at Sekyeom, but the guy just kept smiling brightly with that radiant face of his, as if he had done nothing wrong.

No, perhaps he looked like a recent graduate trying to make a good impression on an interviewer.

Even though that couldn’t possibly be Sekyeom.

Jihan tried hard to ignore the feeling he got.

“If you felt so uncomfortable, you would have contacted me first. Don’t give me the excuse that you didn’t know my number. You could have easily found it just by asking Hyeonwoo.”

As Jihan muttered lowly, implying Sekyeom shouldn’t try any tricks, Sekyeom, still smiling perfectly, nodded his head.

“You’re right. There’s no room for excuses. But can I do that now instead?”

“…What?”

“Ask Hyeonwoo for your number?”

“Is he really crazy? Why are you doing this now!”

“Because I want to find the courage, even if it’s late.”

“…Ha.”

Jihan, whose mouth had been opening and closing with a fierce expression as if about to unleash a torrent of curses, let out a sigh of disbelief.

Then, looking suddenly exhausted, he pressed his temples firmly.

“Shove that courage. It just makes me feel worse, like you’re mocking me.”

“I’m not relaxed enough to mock you.”

“B*llshit. You look perfectly relaxed right now.”

Jihan, pressing the area around his eye sockets, glared fiercely between his fingers.

Sekyeom then shook his head with a leisurely attitude that looked incredibly annoying.

“It’s just that it doesn’t show easily with me. Because I’m very shy.”

“…Are you drunk after one shot of soju?”

“If I say I’m drunk, will you take me home? Then I’ll pretend I’m drunk.”

“That b*stard seems really crazy, doesn’t he?”

Jihan looked around at his other two friends as if seeking agreement.

However, Homin and Hyeonwoo, who were smiling contentedly as if enjoying the unfolding atmosphere, didn’t back Jihan up.

They had already switched to Sekyeom’s side quite some time ago.

“I should contact Changsu. Tell him things seem to be working out better than expected.”

“Don’t even think about contacting someone on their honeymoon. Have you no sense?”

“Ah, it’s just an expression! Who said I’d actually do it?”

Homin, making a wronged face at Hyeonwoo’s scolding, put his phone down on the table.

Feeling somewhat ostracized, Jihan stared blankly at the two.

He was so dumbfounded that the rather childish question, ‘Whose side are you on anyway?’ swirled in his mouth.

But Jihan couldn’t say the words.

Because suddenly, it became noisy outside the door.

“Monster! A monster appeared!”

“Everyone get out of the restaurant quickly!”

“Please don’t push!”

Hearing the screams from beyond the door, the four men’s faces hardened as they exchanged glances.

Sekyeom, recovering first, opened the door.

The inside of the restaurant was chaotic, crowded with people who had rushed out all at once, tangled together.

The four, stunned by the sight, were startled by the loud warning sounds blaring from their phones.

Not just theirs, but the phones of everyone inside the restaurant began ringing simultaneously.

[Disaster Management Defense Headquarters] April 18th, 18:36 ‘Code Green’ monster detected in Yeouido area, Seoul / Residents in the area, please evacuate promptly in preparation for the risk of additional gate openings.

“Code Green?”

Homin, who checked his phone first, muttered blankly upon seeing the emergency alert message.

Code Green was a level 2 alert warning.

When a monster was detected, emergency alert messages were sent based on a 5-level code system: Level 1 was Code Yellow, Level 2 was Code Green, Level 3 was Code Blue, Level 4 was Code Red, and Level 5 was Code Black.

Code Black had never been issued in Korea yet, but realistically, even a Code Red alert meant the entire city of Seoul was in danger.

“Looks like a gate opened nearby! Let’s get out of here now!”

Hyeonwoo, snapping back to reality after hearing Homin’s dazed mumble, urged them to leave.

But Sekyeom blocked Hyeonwoo’s path.