Guiding the Rampaging Sub Male Protagonist chapter 11

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“There’s nothing to be nervous about. If everything goes smoothly, it won’t hurt, and it won’t take long.”

It was meant to reassure him, but the unspoken implication was clear—if things didn’t go smoothly, it would hurt, and it would take a long time.

Time wasn’t an issue for Haebom; he had nothing else to do, after all.

But pain?

He didn’t want any part of that.

Espers were known for having an extraordinarily high pain tolerance compared to regular people.

If even they described something as painful, how bad could it be?

That thought alone made Haebom even more anxious.

“Now, please look into my eyes.”

“Alright….”

The moment Haebom locked eyes with Seongmin, he let out a quiet gasp.

‘Ah….’

How had he not noticed before?

His eyes were mesmerizing.

His irises were so pitch-black that his pupils were indistinguishable, like a void—an endless, empty stretch of space.

Then, after just a few seconds, Seongmin’s deep black eyes turned stark white. Haebom’s own eyes widened in surprise.

“From this moment on, you must not look away. That’s all you need to do.”

Staring into Seongmin’s eerie, glowing white eyes, Haebom gave a small nod.

It felt as if he was being drawn in.

Or maybe he already was.

“State your name, age, and place of residence, in that order.”

“My name is Yoon Haebom. I’m twenty-one years old. I live in Seoul….”

Haebom answered without hesitation.

But as he spoke, something felt off. It was as if something was rummaging through his mind, shifting things around.

The unfamiliar sensation made his body flinch involuntarily.

Even as he registered the discomfort, he continued answering Seongmin’s questions.

Throughout the entire process, Seongmin didn’t blink once.

Haebom found himself wondering—what if he suddenly started talking about the novel or something similar?

What would happen then?

Fortunately, none of the questions veered into dangerous territory.

Seongmin mainly asked about things Haebom had already told them or details the Bureau’s staff had witnessed firsthand.

It was clear now that this was just a confirmation process.

“All done. You did well.”

The tension drained from Haebom’s body at Seongmin’s words, leaving him feeling weak.

He blinked a few times, and by the time his vision cleared, Seongmin’s eyes had returned to their original deep black.

In this world, Espers’ hair or eye color changed when they awakened.

But in Seongmin’s case, it seemed to happen only when he used his ability.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

“Please wait here for a moment, Yoon Haebom.”

“Okay….”

Seongmin got up, left the room, and shut the door behind him.

Haebom expected Jin Seyoung to come in right away, but instead, he was left alone.

A creeping sense of anxiety returned—was something wrong?

Was he about to be locked up in here?

However, nothing happened.

Soon, the door opened again, and Jin Seyoung walked in with a noticeably brighter expression than before.

“You did well, Yoon Haebom.”

Since Haebom hadn’t really done anything, hearing those words over and over made him feel a bit awkward.

He nodded slightly, and Jin Seyoung sat down where Seongmin had been.

At some point, she had retrieved a file folder and placed it on the desk.

“Esper Lee Seongmin has confirmed that everything you said was the truth. We’ve also verified that you have no prior knowledge of the events surrounding this case.”

“Yes.”

Haebom nodded vigorously.

Watching him, Jin Seyoung fell silent, lost in thought.

It was clear that Haebom wasn’t lying.

But she still couldn’t cast aside all doubt.

After all, people didn’t just appear out of nowhere.

Someone with no traces of existence in this world?

It seemed impossible.

Then again, over a hundred years ago, when the first monsters crossed through the gates, no one had believed what was happening on this land.

The same went for the emergence of Espers and Guides.

The world had already changed beyond imagination.

Perhaps this naïve-looking young man was no different.

Any suspicions about his connection to the gates or monsters could be investigated over time.

For now, the most pressing issue had been resolved—an S-rank Esper on the verge of losing control due to his Guide’s romantic entanglements now had a chance at survival.

And that wasn’t just important for Wonho—it was crucial for the entire country.

“…May I ask what you plan to do next? Living in South Korea without an official identity will be difficult.”

“…What?”

Haebom blinked in confusion. He thought they were going to help him now that his innocence had been proven.

Was he… going to be sent to the police instead?

The clarity he had just gained shattered instantly, and his mind became a tangled mess.

He had only known Jin Seyoung for a day, but somehow, she had already become the person he relied on the most.

Which was strange. She had no obligation to help him.

Haebom had always thought he was used to handling things alone.

But now, faced with someone kind, he found himself depending on them again.

And the realization frustrated him.

“But I have no choice but to rely on them! I came from another world with no identity—what am I supposed to do on my own…?”

Haebom questioned himself, frustration welling up inside.

Not that questioning himself would change anything.

He had no idea how he ended up in this world or who was responsible, but if he ever saw them, he’d grab them by the collar and shake them senseless.

Even if it were a god.

At least give me an identity!

No, even money!

That bitter, worldly resentment surged within him.

His face paled and contorted repeatedly, and seeing this, Jin Seyoung let out a deliberate cough.

It was a move to regain Haebom’s attention.

“So, I have a proposal for you. Would you like to hear it?”

The sound of her cough pulled Haebom out of his furious imagination, where he had been mentally throttling some faceless deity.

He turned to look at her, and his expression brightened slightly upon hearing her words.

A proposal…?

He had just been frustrated with himself for leaning on others so easily, yet his ears perked up at the mere mention of it.

The truth was, without Jin Seyoung’s help, his only options were going to the police or becoming homeless on the streets.

“My proposal is for you to join the Center. If you officially belong to the Center, we will create an identity for you. Also, the address you mentioned earlier belongs to someone else now, so you can’t go there. Naturally, we’ll provide you with a place to stay….”

Haebom stopped imagining himself begging on the streets and focused on her words.

She seemed especially eager for him to join the Center.

Suspicious, Haebom tilted his head.

Even if a lie detector had proven he wasn’t lying, that didn’t mean she had no reason to doubt him.

It was strange. In the novels he’d read, the Center never did anything that didn’t benefit them.

Whether it was an organization or an individual, no one moved purely out of kindness.

Acts of service existed, sure, but often for personal reasons—whether to feel better about oneself, earn volunteer points, or gain some form of advantage.

That was just how the world worked.

If even individuals operated that way, then there was no way an organization like the Center was offering him this deal out of sheer goodwill.

They had something to gain. The problem was, he had no idea what.

“Does joining the Center mean becoming an employee?”

“Well… you could call it that. This document outlines the details of our proposal. It also explains what you’ll gain if you accept. Take your time reading it.”

Jin Seyoung offered an enigmatic smile, deliberately avoiding a direct explanation of what joining the Center actually entailed.

The unease remained, but Haebom nodded and took the papers from her, carefully scanning through them.

As he read, a particular word caught his eye, and he tilted his head again.

He had been doing that a lot today, but he couldn’t help it—it was just too strange.

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