And now, Ji Gwan-young was sitting in an interrogation room.
But he wasn’t bound by a single restraint. When Ji Gwan-young entered The Center, the machine installed at the entrance to measure an Esper’s ability index flashed a red error window, and the people at The Center instinctively realized it.
Right now, there was no method capable of restraining this man.
Ji Gwan-young was the third unmeasurable Esper ever to enter The Center.
The interrogation room door opened, and a young woman along with a large, heavily built man stepped inside. Both wore white lab coats, and both were Espers.
The monster lowered his gaze slightly in greeting, narrowing his eyes as he measured their energy.
The woman was probably physical-type, and the man non-physical.
“You’ve been waiting a long time, Ji Gwan-young-ssi.”
“Not at all. It’s fine.”
At first glance, it sounded like a perfectly pleasant response.
But the Espers sitting across from him had no room to smile back at Ji Gwan-young’s words. They could clearly feel it—behind that polished smile, he was calculating the extent of their power.
Scans between Espers could be hidden, interfered with, or even falsified if the two parties possessed similar levels of strength. But right now, they were swallowing down the worst kind of helplessness. The sensation of being stripped naked and thoroughly searched from head to toe was horrifying.
The female researcher spoke first.
“You’re even more handsome in person. I really enjoy your dramas. I’m a fan.”
“Thank you.”
Good lord. No one had known that the man constantly appearing on television was actually an Esper.
Truthfully, she herself had genuinely liked actor Ji Gwan-young. His flawless appearance, solid physique, even the natural elegance embedded into his manners. Actor Ji Gwan-young was probably one of the ultimate ideal types for countless women.
But “Esper Ji Gwan-young” was different.
The perfect man sitting before them now, wearing a relaxed expression, was the most dangerous kind of human weapon—someone whose next move no one could predict.
“Shall we begin? Oh Yeon-ssi, please prepare.”
At the woman’s words, the man called Oh Yeon opened the small laptop he had brought. Watching him, Ji Gwan-young rolled his neck a few times as though stretching before brushing his hair back. His black hair, always perfectly neat, became slightly tousled.
“Before that, turn it off. The CCTV. And everything that’s recording.”
“…Excuse me?”
“I can hear the machines. You’re operating them over there, aren’t you?”
Ji Gwan-young tilted his head toward the black mirrored glass, the corners of his eyes curving slightly as he added,
“Occupational hazard. I’m not a fan of being secretly filmed.”
As a result, the faces of the high-ranking Center officials and chief researchers watching the interrogation through the one-way mirror turned pale. They exchanged glances before hurriedly pressing several buttons, shutting off all CCTV and recording functions just as Gwan-young demanded.
From the earpiece in Lee Mihyun’s ear came the order: “All devices are off. Proceed.”
But Ji Gwan-young laughed softly, almost like a sigh, as though something still displeased him. At the same moment, the laptop Oh Yeon had set down spun in place and suddenly slid across the table toward Gwan-young. Massaging the back of his neck, he looked down at the screen with a distinctly crooked gaze.
“Well now. You really don’t understand what people say.”
Oh Yeon only got his laptop back after Gwan-young crushed it without laying a single finger on it.
Had he made backups?
Oh Yeon scratched his chin slightly with an impassive face. Mihyun also apologized obediently.
“Sorry. Those were orders from above.”
“Yes. I understand.”
“Then we’ll proceed verbally. Oh Yeon-ssi, please.”
For a non-physical Esper—more specifically, an intelligence-type Esper—memorizing a conversation like this was effortless. Oh Yeon gave a small nod.
In a way, it was a scene utterly lacking in any sense of crisis. Mihyun wondered if this was the very reason Ji Gwan-young had managed to hide the fact that he was an Esper for so long.
The man smiling in front of her didn’t seem dangerous at all.
If anything, he easily bewitched people.
Could that be part of the reason he had managed not to go insane without a Guide? Mihyun thought.
“Please state your name and age.”
“Ji Gwan-young. Thirty-four.”
“When did your manifestation as an Esper begin?”
“When I was twenty-one. Thirteen years ago.”
Mihyun, whose speech was rough by nature, almost let a curse slip out without realizing it. An Esper who had survived thirteen years without receiving Guide matching from The Center—without going mad or dying? She had never even heard of such a thing.
Even Oh Yeon, who had maintained a blank expression, widened his eyes slightly at Gwan-young’s answer.
But despite their horrified reactions, the man in question merely sat there with an easy smile, entirely unbothered. Lee Mihyun swallowed dryly and continued.
“How were you able to live all this time without a Guide?”
“I suppressed the use of my abilities as much as possible. And whenever I needed a Guide… I searched for one appropriately.”
Though elegantly phrased, it was essentially no different from saying he had grabbed Guides with noticeable aptitude and rolled around with them.
“So you matched with them?”
“Well. I don’t think it ever worked out very well. It always felt lacking.”
At Ji Gwan-young’s relaxed answer, Oh Yeon seemed to consider something before speaking for the first time. His low voice carried a faint metallic rasp.
“At that point, it would’ve been better to receive Guide assignment from The Center. Why didn’t you take The Center’s matching test?”
“Because it was annoying.”
In some ways, it was the most honest answer possible, but the two researchers still looked momentarily dumbfounded.
But Ji Gwan-young truly meant it.
Anyone could tell just by glancing at the front page of a newspaper how often physical-type Espers got dragged into troublesome field operations. Ji Gwan-young hated bothersome things. He also didn’t particularly enjoy taking orders from anyone.
Still, there was one thing even Ji Gwan-young himself acknowledged.
Ever since he began living without a Pair Guide, the thirst that never eased for even a moment was unbearable. The days where his eyes, nose, mouth, and every sensation felt wrapped in thick linen were excruciating.
But catering to The Center’s whims—undergoing endless tests like some laboratory rat while they searched for a highly compatible Guide and tried to dissect every final layer of his abilities—was something even more revolting to a monster with towering pride.
So Ji Gwan-young chose instead to endure alone and wait for the day the final dam holding back his sanity would inevitably break.
Of course, even twenty-one-year-old Ji Gwan-young, freshly awakened as an Esper back then, had never imagined that day would be delayed by well over ten years.
Only after a considerable amount of time had passed did Gwan-young realize that he possessed a level of power too immense to either simply go mad and die—or continue surviving alone with ease.
Maybe if I endured for a few years, I’d completely lose my mind, rampage somewhere, and die there.
Even the vague image he once had of his own spectacular death eventually became distant and unclear.
When the two Espers seated across from him looked unconvinced by his story, Ji Gwan-young even laughed cheerfully.
“It’s true. Haha!”
In the end, Lee Mihyun unconsciously let out a quiet sigh at the sound of that pleasant voice.
“…This is probably the most important question.”
“Yees?”
“For someone who spent over ten years hiding the fact that they were an Esper, why suddenly appear at the Gangnam incident? Was it because of Guide Choi Tae-hoon?”
For the first time, Ji Gwan-young’s eyebrow twitched.
Thinking this is it, Mihyun continued speaking.
“The medical team discovered a Name on Choi Tae-hoon-ssi’s back while examining his condition.”
“……”
“They said the Name was ‘Ji Gwan-young.’ I’m curious whether that’s actually you.”
For over a decade, Ji Gwan-young had been an Esper who hid while being more publicly visible than anyone else.
That the person connected to such a dangerous individual through a Connecting Name was someone most of The Center knew personally—and someone close to them—was both an enormous relief and deeply unfortunate.
Choi Tae-hoon was far too good of a person.
Too good to have his name entangled with someone so unpredictable.
“To answer the second question first… yes. It’s me. Ji Gwan-young.”
“And the first?”
“Strictly speaking, it wasn’t because of him. More precisely, it was because of the Esper causing a disturbance.”
How dare he.
The moment Ji Gwan-young muttered those words lowly, the air inside the interrogation room turned icy.
Mihyun reminded herself she couldn’t lose the battle of nerves and spoke firmly.
“No matter how much of a terrorist he was, unilateral attacks using abilities are prohibited. And unauthorized, unlicensed Espers are forbidden from approaching Guides protected by the state. Based on that alone, Ji Gwan-young-ssi, you—”
But Lee Mihyun never got to finish her sentence.
The already-warped laptop belonging to Oh Yeon suddenly floated into the air before violently slamming down onto the table.
Mihyun reflexively deflected the pieces scattering toward her, but if that laptop had been aimed at her head instead, she wasn’t confident she could’ve blocked it.
The monster who had been smiling the entire time no longer wore even the slightest trace of one.
Quietly observing the exchange between the two Espers, Oh Yeon pinpointed exactly which part had triggered such a violent reaction from the dangerous man.
At the words:
“Unauthorized, unlicensed Espers are forbidden from approaching Guides protected by the state.”
Ji Gwan-young had slowly lost the smile on his face.
Expressionless, he turned his gaze toward the mirrored glass.
The people beyond the thin pane—those confidently discussing things like deploying more Espers or injecting him with drugs, assured of their own safety behind the barrier—fell silent the moment they noticed Gwan-young’s eyes, which looked as though he could see them directly.
Without taking his gaze off them, the monster spoke.
“I thought people from The Center would be smart. But you’re dumber than I expected.”
Mihyun felt cold sweat gathering in her palms.
Ever since awakening as an Esper, she had never once experienced pure fear.
Ignoring the instinctive terror now beginning to rise inside her was difficult.
“Hey. Right now, you people are holding a card that can easily control someone like me.”
“…….”
“I walked in here on my own feet, willing to cooperate quietly however you wanted. So why keep irritating me? Surely you don’t actually believe I’m obligated to show patience to you people too?”
A card capable of controlling an unmeasurable Esper.
Oh Yeon mulled over the words. The answer was obvious.
“…Choi Tae-hoon.”
“Now we’re finally communicating. Yeah. That person.”
Just hearing the Guide’s name visibly improved Ji Gwan-young’s mood.
Though he continued referring to Tae-hoon with the distant phrase “that person,” he made no effort to hide his fondness toward him.
Until now, Tae-hoon had never shown a high matching rate with any Esper.
Mihyun found herself thinking, Could Tae-hoon actually match with that man…? Yet she desperately hoped not.
Someone as ordinary and kind as Choi Tae-hoon would struggle enough just being connected by name to someone so violent.
Mihyun had known that neat and proper Guide for a long time while working at The Center. The same was true for Oh Yeon.
Both of them were Tae-hoon’s longtime drinking companions and Espers who had once undergone matching tests with him years ago.
Ji Gwan-young regained his relaxed demeanor once more.
Lazily propping his chin on his hand, he spoke. The mixture of formal and informal speech made him sound like an arrogant predator.
“What you people should be doing right now isn’t sitting me in some boring little room and asking obvious questions.”
“……”
“You should be thinking of a way to keep me restrained no matter what it takes. Even if you have to put a leash on me.”
The Esper looked delighted.
“So then, question. Who do you think is holding my leash?”
