Deal Breaker - Chapter 9
Because the landlords raised the rent every time a contract ended, Hyeji had moved more than ten times by the time she turned twenty. The desire to have her own place—a home where she didn’t have to worry about the landlord or moving—had long since taken root in her heart.
Yeah, who am I to dream of a Han River view. I should just focus on preparing for the civil service exam. If I work hard, maybe I can at least afford an apartment in the metropolitan area…
“This is insane.”
…Or so she thought, until she checked real estate apps and realized that even in the metro area, we’re not talking about hundreds of millions but billions. For an ordinary university student, job seeker, or average office worker like Noh Hyeji, buying an apartment would take at least twenty years, and only if she got married and both spouses worked.
“What kind of country is this?”
What kind of country is it where an ordinary person can work themselves to the bone for a lifetime and still not afford a single home?
*
Her lament of ‘F-Class, huh’ changed to ‘S-Class, huh’ in just a few days.
S-Class. I’m S-Class. Even having good results is a problem. If I’d just gotten F, I could have given up cleanly, so what am I supposed to do now?
While she was worrying about that, Yeowoon, who had gotten a job at a private military company, said she’d buy drinks to celebrate her new job, and Hyeji went out—only to hear this story.
“Our company CEO’s wife is a Guide who got S-Class in contact guiding.”
“What?”
There was someone like that in Korea besides Hyeji?
“But apparently, her radiative grade is only D-Class, so she only ever did radiative guiding and turned down every offer for a contact guiding contract. But do you know how the CEO finally changed her mind?”
“How?”
“He gave her a marriage contract instead of an employment contract, and she agreed.”
“Oh, well, if you’re guiding your husband, you wouldn’t feel guilty.”
Saying that suddenly made Hyeji think: Why should I feel guilty about using my body to guide a man I’m not married to? It’s not like she was a believer in pre-marital chastity.
Come to think of it, whether it’s an employment contract or a marriage contract, both are contracts where you receive compensation for using your body to guide. The only difference is the kind of relationship the contract defines.
In any case, it just means you’re exclusive to one person.
Then she realized. Contact guiding wasn’t something you were supposed to do with multiple people anyway. You just had to do it for one matched Esper.
So all you have to do is pick one person you like. Why was she even hesitating?
*
The next morning, Hyeji went to the Center as soon as the sun came up and asked Iyeon to arrange a contact guiding match.
“According to regulations, as long as your match rate is over 30%, you can be assigned as a matched Guide. And since you’re S-Class, the problem isn’t whether you’ll match, but that you might have too many matches.”
On the screen, where Hyeji’s name was written in the corner, the wave patterns were fluctuating wildly. On one side, unfamiliar faces and names kept popping up, only to disappear as soon as red numbers like 0.5% and 11% appeared.
“You can choose whoever you want to make the contract with. Don’t forget, Hyeji-ssi, you’re the one in control here.”
Standing side by side in front of the large display, watching the match rate analysis unfold, Iyeon gave her various pieces of advice.
“Actually, I’m a Guide too.”
“You’re a Guide too, sunbae?”
Iyeon laughed, saying she felt ticklish being called ‘sunbae’, and explained that she couldn’t help meddling because Hyeji reminded her of herself at twenty. Hyeji could only be grateful for her concern.
“Just in case, make sure you also request personal protection service from the Center. I’ll tell you how later. And if you have any questions about the contract, contact me anytime.”
“Thank you.”
Hyeji gratefully took the business card Iyeon handed her.
“I don’t really know about Espers who are based overseas…”
Does that mean you can match with foreigners, too? Not my type, though. Just then, a photo of a blond, big-nosed foreigner popped up on the screen and Hyeji’s eyes wavered.
Match rate: only 2%.
Phew, thank goodness. Relieved, Hyeji turned her gaze from the screen to Iyeon.
“I know almost all the domestic Espers, so if you want to know whether someone is okay, just ask— Are you kidding me?!”
Suddenly, a harsh exclamation burst from the usually kind Iyeon. Startled, Hyeji followed her gaze. In the middle of the screen, which just a moment ago had been frantically shifting, one face and one name were displayed in large letters.
He looks unrealistically handsome. He looks familiar… Where have I seen him before?
As she racked her brain, Hyeji recognized the name below the photo first—and froze.
[ Han Kanghyeon
Match Rate: 94.52% ]
“No, this can’t be real…”
“Exactly…”
“Hold on. Is this an error? There’s no way the match rate could be this high.”
Hyeji couldn’t believe the matched Esper, and Iyeon couldn’t believe the match rate. Iyeon hurried to her desk and started typing furiously, and the matching process started over.
But the result was the same…
[ Han Kanghyeon
Match Rate: 94.52% ]
To check if it was a software bug, they tried matching other Guides’ data, and Hyeji even retook the test twice, but the result was unchanged.
Match rate with S-Class Esper Han Kanghyeon, 94.52%.
