Ghost Apple

Public perception of “guiding whores” was appalling, and Seo Won was no exception.

Outwardly, they were Guides selling their abilities—but in truth, most people believed they were little more than prostitutes who’d spread their legs for anyone with enough cash. That misconception largely stemmed from the distorted understanding of deep guiding, yet no one cared enough to correct it or protect the rights of unregistered Guides.

The Association, always suffering from a shortage of Guides, actively encouraged such perceptions. The harsher the public gaze, the more these fragile, wounded Guides would run to the Association for shelter—seeking someone to protect them.

Seo Won knew full well just how insidious the Association’s intentions were. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to see these “guiding whores” in a sympathetic light. Whatever others thought, the fact remained: they were using guiding as an excuse to sell their bodies. That disgusted him, plain and simple.

“Just look at him now.”

Like a dog, he was clutching his own shirt between his teeth, baring his chest in a pitiful tremble—all for money. That was always the end goal for these kinds of people: money.

Cha Han-gyeom was no different.

If there was anything that set him apart from the other guiding whores, it was that he didn’t spend the money on himself. Instead, he offered it all to Song Jae-woo—as a form of “atonement.”

When a Guide becomes bonded with an Esper, they’re said to suffer unbearable guilt and despair if that Esper goes into a full-blown rampage. After all, an Esper’s breakdown is the direct result of not receiving proper guiding, so it’s natural to place the responsibility on the bonded Guide.

In that sense, Cha Han-gyeom was a sinner.

He had tethered his imprint partner to himself with the bond, making it impossible for the man to receive guidance from anyone else—then abandoned him, refusing to reach out even as the man spiraled into madness. And now? Now he had the nerve to shamelessly sell his body under the pretense of “guiding.”

Seo Won felt nothing but contempt for someone like that. Not even a flicker of pity. Worse still, the thought of having to keep such a person at his side forever—just because they were bonded—left an ugly crack in his unyielding pride.

Overwhelmed with rage, Seo Won sank his teeth into Han-gyeom’s chest, leaving behind a searing, stinging bite mark. The pain of the bite, the sudden heat that flared through him, and the ESP storm threatening to consume him—all of it drove a strangled moan from Han-gyeom’s lips, something between a scream and a sob.

“Cha Han-gyeom. Snap out of it and guide me properly.”

Seo Won’s tongue swept cruelly over the bite, hard enough to sting as it passed over the bloodied skin.

“Unless you want to lose another Bonded partner to an explosive death.”

Han-gyeom’s teary eyes widened in shock.

His pupils, which had been quivering as if struck by lightning, slowly dimmed and darkened. His long lashes drooped, trembling like they were weighed down by something too heavy to bear.

Seo Won could feel the sorrow spreading through Han-gyeom like a shadow—but he paid it no mind. He didn’t care to understand him. He was only focused on one thing: the guiding.

After the guiding session that consisted only of petting ended, Han-gyeom sat slumped on the sofa.

“No idea how badly I got chewed up.”

He’d have to check the mirror as soon as he got back to his room.

With his shirt clamped between his teeth until it was soaked with saliva, he had no idea how much of his skin had been sucked or bitten. Judging from the sting spreading across his body, it was more than just once or twice.

As Han-gyeom sat there blankly staring at his shirt, now a crumpled mess, a shopping bag landed with a dull thud beside him.

“Wear it.”

Seo Won’s voice was cold as he straightened his own disheveled clothes. Inside the bag were two brand-new white dress shirts, tags still attached, and a pair of simple jeans. They didn’t look much different from what Han-gyeom usually wore, but the fabric felt expensive—clearly good quality.

“I’ll restock your closet with new clothes by tomorrow. Just throw out what you’re wearing now.”

“This? What a waste.”

It was cheap, sure, but it was one of his go-to outfits.

Seo Won shot him a look like he couldn’t understand how anyone could be sentimental over that.

“I said throw it out. And don’t come here reeking of smoke again.”

The disgust was palpable in Seo Won’s glare, as though he were looking at something filthy—like Han-gyeom was a roach crawling in the corner of his sight.

Han-gyeom, who’d never once shown weakness to anyone during his time as a guiding whore, opened his mouth to retort like usual—but this time, he swallowed it. He looked down, quietly pushing the irritation down.

“Fine. I’ll change before coming, if you call for me.”

His nonchalant reply made something twitch at the edge of Seo Won’s narrowed eyes.

“It’s on your skin, too.”

“I’ll shower and change, then.”

“And how would you know when I’ll call?”

“Then give me time to shower first, that’s all.”

Seo Won let out a scoff and stepped toward him—then suddenly grabbed Han-gyeom by the hair.

“Ugh!”

“Looks like you’re under some kind of delusion.”

Seo Won stared down at him coldly, watching Han-gyeom’s body go slack in his grip.

“You’re supposed to give your best when guiding me. Not foul my mood.”

With that, he let go—shoving Han-gyeom’s head away with a rough push.

“Maybe you’re dumber than I thought. I’m saying quit smoking. Immediately.”

Han-gyeom bit down on his lip—not because of the pain from how many strands of hair had likely been ripped out, but because of the sheer humiliation in the way he was being treated.

And yet… he couldn’t fight back.

In this contract, the dominant party was obligated to provide the submissive party with adequate food, clothing, and shelter. In return, the submissive had to offer satisfactory guiding at all times. If either party violated the agreement, they were required to face a penalty determined entirely by the other.

If Seo Won considered “smoke-free care” part of a satisfactory guiding, then this counted as a breach. And Han-gyeom had no idea what Seo Won might demand as compensation.

Best to just do what he asked.

“…Fine. I don’t have many left anyway.”

Maybe five cigarettes, at most.

If he said he was going out, Seo Won’s already frosty gaze would probably sharpen into a blade aimed right at his throat. And if he mentioned it was to smoke? That would set off an even bigger storm.

“Can I really quit…?”

He’d been smoking nonstop for five years. Honestly, he didn’t think he could just stop.

With a bitter sigh, Han-gyeom raked a hand through his disheveled hair and asked quietly,

“You don’t smoke?”

“The weird ones are the people who do. I don’t get why anyone willingly poisons themselves like that.”

Han-gyeom gave a self-deprecating chuckle as he stood up.

“You’ll probably live forever then.”

“That’s the plan.”

As Seo Won headed back toward his desk, ready to resume work, the deep crimson hue of the setting sun bathed his back in warm light.

“I’ve been clawing my way toward that my entire life.”

The quiet murmur, almost to himself, stuck in Han-gyeom’s mind like a splinter—strange and unexpected.

Seo Won, now back in his perfectly neat appearance as if nothing had happened, picked up a document from his desk. He didn’t spare so much as a glance in Han-gyeom’s direction, like the man had already served his purpose.

“I’ll be calling you in every day from now on. If you reek of that rancid stench again tomorrow, I’ll strip you naked and hang you outside.”

The ice-cold warning made Han-gyeom glare at him for a brief moment, before grabbing the shopping bag.

Without another word, Han-gyeom quietly left the office. Seo Won had half-expected him to slam the door in petty defiance—but surprisingly, he didn’t. He walked out calmly.

Only then did Seo Won lift his eyes from the paperwork and glance toward the closed door.

“Coughing up blood, especially with a persistent cough, usually points to a respiratory issue. But in your case, it wasn’t the bronchi—just mild swelling from irritation. And the lungs were perfectly clear.”

Dr. Shin’s words continued to nag at him.

Even just now, during the guiding, the scent of smoke had clung not only to Han-gyeom’s clothes but to his skin as well. While the effect of the guiding had dulled his senses enough to overlook it at the time, once it was over, the smell of cigarettes hit him like a punch—acrid and overpowering.

And then, he recalled Song Jae-woo. The man had once asked Seo Won to pass along some black-dyed herbal medicine and two cartons of cigarettes from a convenience store. When the security guard, knowing how much Seo Won loathed smoking, tried to block the delivery, Jae-woo had pleaded, saying, “He’s been smoking for five years—he can’t quit overnight. Just let him have a few, at least.”

Seo Won had reluctantly accepted them at the time, just to avoid further hassle—but in the end, he’d tossed the entire pack straight into the trash.

Part of it was because Han-gyeom needed to stay healthy if he was going to keep guiding long-term. But more than that, Seo Won simply didn’t want to deal with secondhand smoke.

He’d spent his entire life tiptoeing around death, never knowing when it might strike. Even after surviving the “curse” through a heart transplant, the fear never really left him. He couldn’t afford to jeopardize his health—not anymore.

No matter how he looked at it, Han-gyeom coughing up blood wasn’t something to brush off lightly. If Dr. Shin hadn’t made a mistake in the diagnosis, then something was wrong with his lungs. Which meant—more than anything—Han-gyeom needed to stay the hell away from cigarettes.

Seo Won slammed the stack of papers down hard, recalling the guiding session from just moments ago. Not a single word on the densely printed pages had registered in his mind from the start.

The guiding had been so euphoric it felt like his brain was melting, and the aftershocks still pulsed through his body, keeping him on edge.

The black energy rooted deep inside him was still restless—unrelenting in its hunger, begging to be fed more. If he stayed like this any longer, he might really lose control, tear Han-gyeom apart like a beast in heat. That was why he’d deliberately stopped at petting.

But now, he regretted it—deeply.

The scent of smoke clinging to Han-gyeom’s body. That pale skin that flushed with every touch, leaving red marks wherever he was touched. That chest—so full, so tempting, with nipples that made him want to bite and devour.

Seo Won had only followed his instincts—arousing Han-gyeom to draw out a deeper, richer guiding. But now it felt like he was the one who’d gotten caught in the trap.