Walking while taking in the surroundings, he arrived in no time.
It was just like the Seoul he had lived in.
Seeing this made him feel like he wasn’t in a novel at all, but in his own world.
If it hadn’t been for the massive building with “Superhuman Center” written in large letters…
Whew.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the central building among several similar-looking structures.
He already knew this was the main administration building.
“Excuse me.”
“Yes, Esper-nim. How can I help you?”
As soon as he entered the lobby, Haeyong went straight to the information desk.
The staff member immediately recognized him as an Esper by his uniform.
“Is there a department that manages contracts? I’ve lost mine. I was going to ask my team leader, but he’s currently inside a Gate.”
I added a few “not-really-an-excuse” excuses, worried that she might find my request strange.
The staff member simply offered a gentle smile and kindly informed me that I could confirm it at the Personnel Department.
“But you don’t actually have to go to Personnel. You can check it right away through the app… You must not have been an Esper for very long. If you open this app and go here…”
She kindly showed me exactly where to find the contract.
I made sure to memorize her instructions and thanked her sincerely.
While Kang Haeyong had been an Esper for three years, as she suspected, I had only just become one.
When I gave her a bright, beaming smile of gratitude, the staff member froze with a dazed expression.
I didn’t stay to see why; I immediately pulled out my phone to find the app and, after bowing once more, hurried out of the Center.
Staying there too long felt risky.
I never knew when or where those teammates who tormented Kang Haeyong might appear.
Unlike my leisurely pace earlier, I moved quickly back to the house.
When I arrived, it was empty, as expected.
I didn’t know where they went or what they did, nor did I have the slightest desire to find out.
“Now, let’s check—”
SLAM!
The moment I ducked into my room and opened the app, a loud roar echoed through the house.
Naturally, that roar was the sound of my dark bedroom door being thrown open.
Violently.
“Hey, did you go to the Center?”
I stared at the man who had burst—no, ‘burst’ was an understatement—into my room.
Of course, it was Yoon Minjoon.
Based on their behavioral patterns, Yoon Minjoon was the designated “action leader.”
The kind of guy who moved before he thought, to an ignorant degree.
“Fuck, why can’t you just stay rot in the house? The whole team was out for a meal; what does it make us look like if you suddenly show up at the Center?”
I just watched him rant.
This guy really seemed to lack a single working brain cell.
‘What does it make you look like? Exactly what you are: people who ostracize a teammate and go out to eat without them.’
I wasn’t the type to bark back like him, so I kept those thoughts to myself.
“Did you glue your mouth shut? Fuck, say something. Is my voice just noise to you?”
“Minjoon. Haeyong probably went because he had business there. You were asleep, so we just went to eat among ourselves; if we’d known you were awake, we would have taken you along.”
Choi Juhoon spoke in a silky, “kind” voice from behind the shouting Yoon Minjoon.
Of course, his voice and his expression told two different stories.
I hadn’t done anything wrong, but Juhoon had a way of making it sound like my being asleep was the crime.
If you really want to get into it, why did I fall into such a death-like sleep?
It was because they had kept a hole in my stomach for hours—or maybe days.
And when I finally did wake up, they were busy doing that.
They knew I was awake but pretended not to know so they could go stuff their faces.
Come to think of it, I hadn’t eaten a single meal since becoming Kang Haeyong.
Strangely, though, I didn’t feel hungry.
“Haeyong must be hungry. Here, eat this. I bought it for you.”
“Fuck, there’s a limit to being ‘nice.’ Why look after this pathetic beggar?”
“Ssh, Minjoon.”
Juhoon handed me a lunch box as if he were tossing a coin to a stray.
Minjoon spat out more curses, clearly displeased.
I was just glad he didn’t swing a fist.
While a bruise would be evidence, I preferred to avoid the pain if possible.
After hurling a few more insults and making a mess of my hair, Minjoon finally vanished from my sight.
Only the snake-like Choi Juhoon remained.
“By the way, Haeyong… why did you go to the Center?”
He tilted his head as he asked.
To someone who didn’t know his true nature, he probably looked like a very warm and attentive person.
I wasn’t fooled.
“…Am I not allowed to go?”
“Ah… no, that’s not it. You’re an Esper affiliated with the Center; you can go if you have business. I’m just saying that I can usually handle things for you, so you don’t need to go through the trouble yourself.”
I stared at him as he spoke with a feigned sigh.
Feeling my gaze, his brow twitched.
Something about my silence seemed to irritate him.
But I had no intention of telling him why I really went.
I couldn’t exactly say I went to check the contract so I could sue them for their irrational treatment.
Juhoon stared back at me for a long time before letting out a deep breath.
“Haeyong, I believe I’ve told you that we can’t work as a team if you act like this. Besides this team, who else is going to take in a ‘Label-only’ S-class like you?”
I bit my lip and didn’t answer. He might have been right.
Perhaps no other team would want the original Kang Haeyong, who was an S-class in name only and “couldn’t do anything.”
But that was only because they had made him that way.
The fact that they only knew how to use an S-class with a ‘Copy’ ability as bait was their own massive failure.
When Kang Haeyong copies an ability, the original owner doesn’t lose theirs; it’s literally a copy.
Yet, every Esper at the Center acted as if he were stealing their very souls.
Even the original Haeyong had been brainwashed into thinking his power was parasitic.
“Think carefully. We have to work together for a long time. Think of your family, too. I heard your sister is having an exhibition; help her out well, Haeyong.”
He seemed to know everything about Haeyong’s family—perhaps even more than Haeyong himself.
I gave a small nod.
Only then did he smile with satisfaction and close the door so I could “eat.”
Closing that door was his way of cutting me off from the light.
Kang Haeyong lived, ate, and slept in a darkness so thick an ordinary person wouldn’t be able to distinguish their own hands.
Even a sane person would go mad in here eventually. I pulled out my phone and checked the recording.
I trimmed the part after Minjoon left; to an outsider, Juhoon might just sound like a concerned leader.
But the part where the door was kicked open and the verbal abuse started?
That was golden.
It wasn’t enough yet, but it was a start.
I smiled and finished the lunch box he gave me.
“Absolute bastards…”
