Chapter 4

　　Seunghyun lit the cigarette in his mouth. He exhaled, the smoke disappearing into the piercingly clear winter sky. Standing next to him, Wonyoung took a sip of his instant coffee and spoke.

　　“Did you get anything out of him? Talk to me.”

　　“…No. Looks like he can still take some more,” Seunghyun answered.

　　The Violent Crimes Unit’s Team 1, now in charge of a case that was all over the media, was swamped. With the press paying close attention, the pressure on their investigation was mounting.

　　Wonyoung grumbled, “Damn it. All the higher-ups care about is results when the media is watching. They don’t think about us grunts busting our asses.”

　　“Like this is the first time? Don’t act so surprised.”

　　Wonyoung crumpled the empty paper cup and tossed it in the trash.

　　Seunghyun let out a small smirk and exhaled more smoke. The buyer, an Ability User, had already been handed over to the prosecution. More importantly, the dealer, who had been arrested at the same scene, hadn’t said a word in the two days since his arrest. The investigation was stalled until he talked, but he was holding out longer than expected. The team was struggling.

　　“And Tae Seunghyun, what was with you then?”

　　“What do you mean?” Seunghyun replied nonchalantly.

　　Wonyoung stared at him, dumbfounded, “What the hell happened that you were just spacing out at the scene? It’s a good thing the captain wasn’t there, but don’t you know things could’ve gone wrong if we hadn’t entered in time?”

　　“Ah, right.”

　　“‘Ah, right’? Seunghyun, you know you haven’t been yourself since then, right? You’re acting weird. Spacing out during work… what happened at that club?”

　　“…It was nothing.”

　　“The hell it was nothing. You think I don’t know you?”

　　It was something he couldn’t explain to Wonyoung. How could he explain to someone else something he himself couldn’t comprehend? He hadn’t regained his composure even once since the club raid, to be precise, since he met her.

　　“…It was nothing special. Just…” Seunghyun looked down at his palm. It felt as if her heat still lingered there, the memory of that scalding temperature transferring to him. He clenched his empty fist tightly.

　　“Just what?”

　　“Forget it. I’m heading in.”

　　“Yeah. Get it together, man. We have a lot to do, so pull yourself together. We still have Iseok’s case, too.” Wonyoung clapped him on the shoulder and went inside.

　　Mentioning Iseok meant his condition must have been pretty serious.

　　“Fuck. What the hell is going on…”

　　Even after Wonyoung left, Seunghyun stood there until his body grew cold in the winter air, thinking about the woman. In the short time since he had encountered her, nothing he did had been like him. That fact kept pulling him back to the moment he first met her. It was the first time he had ever been so swayed by another person.

　　The Ability Users being discovered all over society were still an unknown quantity. Not all Abilities had been identified, and with unregistered Ability Users still outnumbering registered ones, there wasn’t even any accurate data. Distinguishing and arresting Mental-type Ability Users, whose powers had no obvious tells, was even more difficult. The only saving grace was that according to the meager statistics the government had managed to release, Physical-type Ability Users vastly outnumbered Mental-type ones—and even that was just data on those who had already been caught.

　　The woman might be one of those undiscovered types. He planned to investigate her separately once this case was wrapped up. With a hand reddened and chilled by the cold, Seunghyun pulled out a new cigarette and placed it between his lips.

* * *

　　Yeonsu entered a shabby, three-story red brick building in a traditional market, about a ten-minute walk from her run-down studio apartment.

　　The stairs she climbed every day felt especially difficult, forcing her to pause midway to catch her breath. The ankle she’d badly sprained at the club was acting up again. It took her longer than usual to reach the top floor, where she pushed open a sliding door, then an old wooden one. On it, ‘Errand Center’ was written in a tacky script.

　　“I’m back.”

　　The office was a welcome warmth against the frigid air outside. Yeonsu entered, dragging her aching ankle.

　　“Oh, you’re here? Have a seat.”

　　Seokjoong didn’t even glance at her, his nose buried in his monitor. A specialist in forging documents and manipulating records, he spent most of his days in front of a computer. Accustomed to his demeanor, Yeonsu sank deep into the sofa without a word. Even that small movement left her injured body feeling heavy and drained.

　　“The porridge was good.”

　　“Yeah, it’s a place I order from often. Did you enjoy it?”

　　“…Yeah.”

　　Yeonsu still felt awkward whenever Seokjoong asked her such mundane questions. Hers had been a life of ostracism. Upon learning of her ability’s manifestation, her parents had abandoned her at an orphanage when she was five. Young and not yet knowing how to hide her power, Yeonsu would read the pasts of anyone she saw or touched, blurting out what she saw without a filter. It was only natural that she lived in isolation.

　　Then one day, after more than a decade, Seokjoong appeared. He introduced himself as her uncle and took her from the orphanage. He was the one who had freed her from that isolation, a world where no one even made sure she ate or asked how she was. Yeonsu had followed him because he was the first person in her life to ever reach out. That was why she had such a soft spot for him.

　　Seokjoong seemed to have finished his work, turning his chair to face her. Yeonsu decided to beat him to the punch.

　　“Uncle, can’t we take a break for a while?”

　　Ah, that’s not it. She had meant to say she wanted to quit, not just take a break. But the moment she saw his caring face, she had already compromised with herself. Yeonsu smiled bitterly, watching his reaction.

　　“Is it because the backlash was that bad this time?”

　　“It’s not that.”

　　“Of course it is.”

　　Seokjoong cut her off with a light sigh. He didn’t need to hear the rest; it was obvious what she was going to say. In his view, Yeonsu’s ability was a decent moneymaker. The problem was that she kept letting her emotions get involved whenever she used it.

　　“You’re not making things up, Yeonsu, so what’s the problem? They brought it on themselves, didn’t they?”

　　“…I almost got arrested by the police that day. They found out I’m an ability user. You know how persistent they are.”

　　The police and the law were merciless toward ability users. The mere trace of an ability’s use was enough for an arrest. There was no leniency, no consideration. For the same crime, an ability user would receive a harsher, aggravated sentence than an ordinary person.

　　“Still, you managed to get away, right? That’s why you’re here.”

　　Yeonsu bit her lip. As someone without an ability who didn’t work in the field, Seokjoong couldn’t understand her anxiety. He didn’t know how miserable she had felt among the groping men in the club, or how despairing she had been when the word ‘arrest’ came from the mouth of a man she’d met by chance. He could say such things so easily because he didn’t know. She had hoped for understanding, but there was an insurmountable wall between them.

　　“At the very least, I’d like to lay low for a while. Let’s not take on any more clients.”

　　Yeonsu offered another compromise. Seokjoong’s smile vanished.

　　“Then just finish the jobs we’ve already accepted.”

　　“Uncle. Let’s just turn them down. Please…”

　　Please, I’m so scared.

　　Yeonsu swallowed the weak words she had never once spoken aloud. But Seokjoong was firm.

　　“No. If you insist, I won’t take on any new cases, so just finish this one. All you have to do is a background check.”

　　He was too stunned to speak.

　　“It’s not like last time, not some club. A woman going on a blind date requested it. She just wants to know what kind of guy he is. There’s no danger. You’ve done this before, right?”

　　In the end, Yeonsu lost again. No, she couldn’t win. Deep inside her was a fundamental fear: that if she pushed too hard, Seokjoong might leave her, too. And yet, she had spoken up despite that fear.

　　“…This is the last time.”

　　Having gotten his way, Seokjoong grinned and held out a keycard.

　　“Take this. The client will be there. Just wait for the guy she’s meeting, read him, tell her what you saw, and get out. P Hotel, twenty-first floor.”

　　As Yeonsu reached for the keycard, her hand brushed against his, and he flinched violently. The keycard he’d been holding fell between them.

　　“Oh, Yeonsu. Th-this is…”

　　She was well aware that Seokjoong was reluctant to touch her. But regardless, she couldn’t help the fresh pang of pain in a part of her heart she had thought was numb.

　　“P Hotel, twenty-first floor. Right?” Yeonsu asked nonchalantly, trying her best to hide her inner turmoil.

　　“Huh? Oh, yeah. I sent you the files. Read them before you go.”

　　“Okay, I’m leaving.”

　　Yeonsu turned and opened the door.

　　“Uh, Yeonsu.”

　　Seokjoong called out to her hesitantly. Hand on the doorknob, Yeonsu turned her head.

　　“Uh, just… be careful.”

　　“Yeah, I will.”

　　He acts so guilty every time.

　　Yeonsu gave Seokjoong a small smile and left.