* * *

“Detaching an Esper with ordinary human strength is… well, actually, not just nearly impossible—it’s completely impossible. You’re aware of that, right, Mr. Yoon? On top of that, Esper Wonho is an S-Class Esper. Even other Espers would struggle to remove him. And in the process, there’s no guarantee that you wouldn’t be harmed. In fact, it’s not just you—everyone in this room could be in danger. If Esper Wonho perceives this as an attack, he could retaliate.”

Jin Seyoung explained everything to Haebom in a calm and measured voice.

The more he listened, the more her words seemed to make sense.

Every time he tried to escape, he only felt more trapped, like he had fallen into an antlion pit.

But still, this was a government-operated research institute—a massive facility dedicated entirely to studying supernatural abilities.

And yet, they didn’t have a single method to separate an Esper from someone?

Haebom furrowed his brows instinctively.

Jin Seyoung observed his reaction carefully.

She was keeping a composed expression, but inwardly, she was just as baffled.

After all, this was Wonho they were talking about.

He hadn’t always been such a sensitive person, but prolonged deprivation of guiding had made him increasingly unstable.

Even when he came in for checkups, he would apply and remove his own patches.

If a blood sample was needed, he would simply jab the syringe into his own arm.

Of course, there were a few people who could touch him—but the problem was, that number was exactly one.

“We could conduct the examination while standing, but… Mr. Yoon, your condition doesn’t seem great either. I’d recommend lying down. Sharing the bed with him would be the most efficient option. The procedure takes quite a while…”

As Haebom hesitated, Jin Seyoung added more reasoning.

And in the end, the one who gave in—predictably—was Haebom.

She was right. Standing the entire time would only be more exhausting.

It wasn’t just physical fatigue weighing him down; the mental strain was overwhelming.

His gaze darted around, but eventually, he nodded.

The moment Haebom agreed, the people behind Jin Seyoung moved swiftly.

They pulled back the blanket on the bed and guided him toward it.

With slumped shoulders, Haebom trudged toward the bed.

Sharing a bed with another guy, even in a hospital room…

No matter how he tried to keep a neutral expression, it just felt strange.

But then again, he had already kissed the guy.

What was lying in the same bed compared to that?

He decided to take it lightly.

“Ugh…”

The staff members who had been preparing the bed subtly stepped back the moment Haebom approached with Wonho still attached to him, as if making sure not to come into contact with the Esper.

Haebom found it strange, but at the moment, he didn’t really care.

Now that he had decided to lie down, all he wanted was to get it over with.

The reluctance he had felt about lying next to Wonho vanished in an instant.

Muttering under his breath, he adjusted his position and carefully settled onto the bed, maneuvering around the weight of Wonho.

The moment his body sank into the mattress, an involuntary sigh escaped him.

It was so much softer than the bed in his own place.

At twenty-one, he shouldn’t feel this worn out.

But at this rate, he might as well be eighty.

“The examination will take some time, so you can rest if you’d like. And don’t worry—this process has no effect on ordinary people.”

“…Okay.”

That’s what Jin Seyoung said.

But there was no way Haebom could actually sleep.

Behind him, he could hear the sound of fabric tearing as Wonho’s clothes were cut away.

The sharp scent of alcohol disinfectant filled the air.

People were bustling around, whispering to each other in hushed tones.

There was no way he could possibly fall asleep in the middle of all this—

—or so he thought.

Yet somehow, he did.

As if they had pumped sleep gas into the room, his consciousness slipped away almost instantly.

“…Ah.”

He woke up not long after, blinking in confusion.

It was pitch black.

For a second, he wondered if he had dozed off while walking through the campsite.

But no. That wasn’t it.

The room was dark because the lights had been turned off, and the soft fabric brushing against his cheek was the bed sheet he had been lying on.

The lingering scent of disinfectant was still there, mixed with the unpleasant odor that had clung to Wonho earlier.

Haebom wrinkled his nose, turning his head to glare at the source of the stench—

—and froze.

“…Ah.”

Another sigh slipped from his lips.

Because the space where Wonho should have been was empty.

It took a moment for him to register the absence, his mind still sluggish from sleep.

“…Wait. Did he really just run off without even saying thanks? Wow. Unbelievable.”

Dumbfounded, Haebom sat up.

He had carried the guy on his back across a goddamn desert, nearly passed out from exhaustion, and now, after clinging to him like a lifeline, Wonho had simply vanished?

Maybe he needed to take some lessons in basic manners.

Grinding his teeth, Haebom seethed.

Just then, the door creaked open slightly, and someone stepped inside.

“Oh! You’re awake! Please wait just a moment!”

“Huh? No, wait—!”

It seemed like they hadn’t come for anything specific—just to check whether Haebom had woken up.

Before he could even recognize who it was, they quickly shut the door and left.

Well, even if they had stayed longer, it wasn’t like he would have been able to tell who they were.

Aside from the named characters in the novel, everyone else was just an extra.

A deep sigh escaped him, a mix of resentment toward Wonho and the hollow emptiness of being left alone.

He sat up and reached toward the wall.

Since the door had been shut again on the way out, the room was once more engulfed in darkness.

The curtains were drawn tight over the window, making it the perfect setting to fall asleep in.

He groped along the wall until he found the switch, turning the light on as he waited for someone—anyone—to return.

Fortunately, the wait wasn’t long.

The person who had checked on him earlier didn’t return, but Jin Seyoung entered the hospital room instead.

Unlike before, when she had come with Wonho, she was alone this time.

That was somewhat of a relief.

Even for someone as simple-minded as Haebom, being observed by multiple people was overwhelming.

“Did you sleep well, Yoon Haebom?”

“Ah… yes. I, uh, slept well.”

He felt a little awkward, almost embarrassed by how soundly he had slept in this unfamiliar place.

Since continuing the conversation in bed felt strange, he shifted over to the couch.

“Mr. Yoon Haebom, I’d like to conduct an identity verification check. Would you be willing to consent to that?”

Jin Seyoung quietly observed the young man sitting in front of her.

His light brown hair, pale complexion, and round eyes gave him a gentle look.

However, the slight upward tilt at the corners of his eyes suggested a hint of stubbornness.

She wasn’t particularly skilled at reading faces, but as a researcher specializing in espers, she had dealt with enough people to be fairly accurate in her assessments.

While transporting Haebom alongside Wonho, a center staff member had asked him a few questions, gathering as much information as they could without requiring explicit consent.

But upon further investigation, not a single piece of the information he had provided could be found.

Twenty-one years old. Yoon Haebom.

From his place of residence to the campsite he had mentioned—none of it existed.

The center staff had been visibly shaken upon realizing this.

They had relayed how Haebom had spoken smoothly, without hesitation.

Who exactly was this man?

Was he simply an exceptionally skilled liar?

* * *