* * *
At the staff member’s bewildered tone, Jin Seyoung glanced at Haebom before pulling the employee aside to whisper something.
Haebom couldn’t hear what she was saying, but judging by the staff member’s expression, it wasn’t anything good.
If it were something trivial, she would have said it in front of him.
“Come on, let’s go back to the hospital room.”
Haebom hesitated, wondering if it was really okay to leave like this, but Jin Seyoung urged him again.
In the end, he had no choice but to return to his room—without proving his identity.
On the way back, Jin Seyoung didn’t say a single word.
With her remaining silent, Haebom also found himself unable to speak.
There was nothing he could say except that he wasn’t lying—that he was telling the truth.
But how could he possibly explain that this was a novel and that he had come from outside of it?
And even if he did, how could they believe him?
No matter how much this world was filled with monsters and espers, that explanation was too fantastical.
The idea of crossing over from another world—it was absurd.
While Haebom wrestled with his thoughts, they arrived at the hospital room.
Click.
As the door unlocked, Haebom expected Jin Seyoung to follow him inside.
However, she remained standing outside, looking at him.
“For now, please get some rest. I don’t believe you’re lying, so I won’t report this yet. But we do need to verify that you’re telling the truth. Do you understand?”
Haebom had no idea how she intended to verify his truthfulness.
However, he knew one thing for certain: if he didn’t give a satisfactory response now, it would only be a matter of time before he was dragged to the police station.
The police station?
Sure, fine.
But then what?
His records didn’t exist in Korea, nor would they exist anywhere else in the world.
He was, in every sense, a person with no ties—no legal existence.
From their perspective, he was someone without a birth record who had supposedly lived in Korea for 21 years.
Haebom had no idea what kind of procedures awaited someone in that position.
Given the circumstances, choosing to stay at the center rather than going to the police station seemed like the safer bet.
Reluctantly, he nodded.
Satisfied, Jin Seyoung gave him a pleased smile.
“Get some rest,” she said once more before closing the door and leaving.
Left alone, Haebom’s legs gave out, and he sank to the floor.
“This… feels like I’m getting scammed.”
He had chosen this path to avoid ending up at the police station, but something about it felt unsettling.
Still, it’s not like they would kill him, right?
This was a government facility, after all.
Surely, they wouldn’t just… get rid of people.
Trying to reassure himself, Haebom pushed himself off the cold floor and staggered over to the bed.
He had only just woken up, yet he already felt exhausted.
Despite sleeping so soundly in an unfamiliar place, his fatigue hadn’t gone away.
If anything, it felt worse—like he had burned through even more energy.
This was the first time he had ever felt like this, and it unsettled him.
But for now, he closed his eyes.
His head wasn’t working properly from exhaustion, so he figured it would be best to sleep and think about it after.
Maybe that’s why he fell asleep so quickly.
In his dreams, he wandered through an endless space where a desert and a campsite blended together.
Around and around, he kept circling—so much that he wondered if he would go mad.
When Haebom opened his eyes again, he found himself sitting alone in a room that looked just like the interrogation rooms he had seen in crime dramas.
Feeling awkward, he glanced around until the door swung open, and Jin Seyoung walked in.
He immediately shot up from his seat, nearly knocking over the chair in the process.
He barely managed to catch it in time, preventing a loud noise.
“Did you not sleep well? You don’t look so good.”
Jin Seyoung studied his face as she spoke.
Haebom, caught off guard, let out a sheepish laugh.
“Maybe it’s because I had a weird dream. I think I’ll be fine… probably.”
“Would you like to rest a little longer? You’ll be quite exhausted afterward.”
Haebom quickly shook his head.
If he was going to feel drained after, it would be better to just get it over with now and rest later.
Jin Seyoung nodded.
“Alright. But if you feel like you can’t handle it, let me know.”
Her consideration for him was unexpected.
It made him feel slightly more at ease—but not enough to shake off his nerves completely.
Because soon, Haebom would be meeting an esper.
A mental esper, at that.
In the novel, espers were categorized into combat and non-combat types, and mental espers belonged to the latter group.
They were rare—even among non-combat espers—due to the low awakening rate.
The fact that he was about to meet one felt almost surreal.
Like meeting a celebrity… though he had no idea who they were.
Moreover, the esper he was meeting had the ability to distinguish truth from lies.
A terrifying ability, really.
But it must have made life difficult, too.
After all, not every lie was meant to deceive—some were told with good intentions.
“Relax,” Jin Seyoung said.
“It won’t be difficult.”
“Yes.” Haebom took deep breaths, trying to steady himself as he waited for the Esper.
The room he was in resembled an interrogation room from a police drama—bare except for a desk and chairs, and usually featuring a large two-way mirror.
Of course, there was no such mirror here. Instead, a glass window revealed the open blue sky outside.
Knock, knock—
“Oh, I think they’re here. Just a moment.”
At the sound of someone knocking, Jin Seyoung rose from her chair.
Instead of calling for them to enter, she went to open the door herself.
The room was specially soundproofed so that anything said inside couldn’t be heard from outside.
The thought that no one outside would know what was happening in here sent a slight chill down Haebom’s spine.
The door opened, and the person who stepped in was as pale as a sheet.
Not that paleness was his only defining feature, but it was the first thing that stood out—he looked almost sickly.
If they were close, Haebom imagined he’d be asking every day if he was okay.
Even his lips were a shade close to violet.
In the novel, the female protagonist was torn between the battle-hardened male lead and the secondary male lead, Wonho.
Because of that, Haebom had assumed that all Espers were built like them—tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular.
But the psychic Esper standing before him seemed more fragile than anything.
He looked like he would collapse the moment he faced a monster—no, just from a single hit.
“Hello. I’m Lee Seongmin, an A-rank Esper from the Seoul branch of the Central Bureau of Paranormals. I look forward to working with you.”
“Oh! I’m Yoon Haebom. Likewise, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
As Haebom stood there, staring blankly at him, Seongmin exchanged a few words with Jin Seyoung before approaching Haebom and introducing himself.
He then briefly explained what they would be doing.
Just as Jin Seyoung had said, it didn’t sound particularly difficult.
All Haebom had to do was answer Seongmin’s questions while sitting across from him after Jin Seyoung left the room.
The reason she had to leave was that for Seongmin’s abilities to work optimally, only the subject and himself could be present.
Everything would be recorded, so there was no need to worry about anything going wrong.
With those final words, Jin Seyoung turned to Seongmin and entrusted Haebom to him before stepping outside.
Now, it was just the two of them.
* * *
