IMPRINT 22

It seemed that in Kang Juha’s eyes, I was already a person with zero credibility. His very pupils were telling me that he didn’t believe a word I said.

“Well… how about we write up a document or something?”

That was the only thing I could offer. After all, grown-up promises are supposed to be made with paper and seals.

It was a bit funny that I had to mobilize legal documents just to treat someone to a single meal, though.

“I’d like that.”

Fortunately, it seemed to be to Kang Juha’s liking.

“Then I’ll prepare it and bring it the next time I come…”

“And then you’ll use that as an excuse not to come again.”

…Just how much does he distrust me? Even the Boy Who Cried Wolf wouldn’t get treated this poorly.

“I’ll bring it now.”

Left with no choice, I opened the door to the special treatment room and asked Juyoung, who was waiting outside, to bring paper, a pen, a seal, and an ink pad from my office.

“Pardon? Now? Suddenly? Why?”

Juyoung looked bewildered. It was only natural. I found the situation absurd myself.

“I have a reason to stamp something.”

“With whom? …With Esper Kang Juha? Team Leader, I’m just asking in case, but is Kang Juha selling something? Like those jade heating mats?”

“Why would he be selling that?”

“You’ve already signed up for every useless insurance policy out there. I know it’s because your friend is the agent, but… you’re not being swayed by pointless words again, are you?”

“I told you it’s not like that. And I signed up for those because I needed them. The terms were good, the terms.”

“…It’s really not a jade mat, right?”

Am I really that untrustworthy of a person? How on earth have I been living my life? A sudden sense of skepticism about my life rushed over me.

“I’ll take care of it, so just go get them.”

When I spoke through gritted teeth, only then did Juyoung head out, muttering under his breath while still maintaining a suspicious gaze.

[<Pledge>

I (Seong Yihyeon) promise to treat Kang Juha to an extremely delicious meal.]

What on earth is this pathetic excuse for a contract?

I wondered if it was really right to put an official seal on this, but I stamped it anyway, unable to withstand the pressure. Since Kang Juha currently had no seal, he left a thumbprint instead.

Even in the midst of this, we strictly followed procedure and took one copy each. Fortunately, that seemed to appease Kang Juha’s anger.

It took another thirty minutes of explaining and persuading—assuring him that while I might not be able to come for a few more days, it was absolutely not because I disliked Mr. Kang Juha or for any other reason—before I could finally escape the special treatment room.

“Still, putting him in a straitjacket is a bit much. It’s not like he’s being treated as a criminal.”

Director Shin clicked her tongue while looking at me, my arms tightly bound.

This was the room next to the Director’s office of the National Security Bureau, which bore no nameplate. Among ourselves, we called it the Special Interrogation Room. At first glance, it was decorated like a counseling room, but in reality, it was a place to root out the seeds of traitors within the Center.

In other departments or agencies, it seemed to be passed around like a ghost story—”I heard such a place exists”—but reality was often more of a horror story than the legends themselves.

Normally, they would have just used simple bracelet-type restraints, but today was certainly excessive.

“They must have thought I’d resist. I am a step above you, Director Shin, after all.”

I spoke more playfully on purpose to the face that looked more distressed than mine.

Director Shin looked at me with an expression that asked if I could really joke in this situation, then shook her head with a sigh.

“…Sigh, I really don’t know.”

As expected, the person coming as an observer for today’s verification was someone planted by the Medical Bureau. They were said to belong to the Security Office within the Medical Bureau, and according to Juyoung, it was someone firmly aligned with the Director of the Medical Bureau.

At the exact scheduled time, someone opened the door and entered. True to a security officer, he was a man with a considerably sturdy build. He was intimidating enough to make me wonder if he was chosen specifically to suppress me if necessary, but it didn’t matter. I had no intention or will to resist in the first place.

The man stopped abruptly next to the chair I was sitting in and jerked his chin.

“Begin.”

No matter how independently the departments are run, isn’t he being a bit too arrogant toward a Director?

I felt a slight surge of irritation internally but didn’t show it. Director Shin was just letting out deep sighs while looking at the straitjacket wrapped tightly around my upper body, regardless of what the man said.

“Then I’ll get some sleep.”

I spoke as calmly as possible, and Director Shin slowly nodded, perhaps having accepted reality.

“Yeah, since it’s come to this, just get some good sleep.”

With those words, my consciousness drifted far away.

Whenever I do this, I often wonder if this is what death feels like. If death is just blacking out like a power cord being pulled without any consciousness, isn’t that a bit hollow?

It’s like when a doctor says, “Count from one to ten,” during sleep anesthesia, and the patient loses consciousness the moment they mumble “one, two,” only to wake up shouting “three.” Only a fleeting moment had passed, and I had merely closed and opened my eyes, but everything was over.

Director Shin was sitting at the table typing, looking much more exhausted than before I closed my eyes, and the straitjacket that had been binding my body was now nearly half-undone.

The security officer sent from the Medical Bureau was sitting blankly in a chair by the door. Director Shin would have beamed all the points she verified while scanning my memories directly into that man’s head. And that man was likely in a state of brain overload from receiving someone else’s memories for the first time in his life.

The situation was obvious without even looking.

The unpleasant feeling of my memories being rummaged through remained, but thanks to Director Shin’s neat organization, I didn’t feel dizzy or in pain.

“Was my innocence proven at least?”

Director Shin’s gaze, which had been fixed only on the monitor, moved toward me.

“You’re awake. How’s your head?”

“It’s clear.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Yes. More importantly, what about my innocence?”

“Sigh…”

I didn’t care if my brain was turned inside out as long as my innocence was revealed.

However, Director Shin let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her face with her hands.

“Why? Is there a problem?”

“No. There isn’t… but by any chance, have you ever manipulated your own memories regarding Kang Juha?”

“Me, my own memories?”

“Yeah.”

“Why would I do such a thing? Guiding is too precious for that.”

“Right? But does this even make sense…”

“Why? Did something not go well?”

“No. It went well. But to the point where I suspect whether Kang Juha is actually the real Kang Juha.”

What on earth does that mean? Whether Kang Juha is the real Kang Juha.

“What are you talking about?”

“It shouldn’t be possible, but could the Kang Juha in the special treatment room be a fake? Like a disguise sent by the anti-coalition forces.”

“…Have you been drinking?”

“No, does it make sense for Kang Juha to be this gentle? When I only heard your side, I just thought he was like that because his mind was erratic. But this is… it’s like a different person.”

Certainly, Kang Juha was on the gentle side.

I had only dealt with anti-coalition forces or criminals who screamed that they would kill me every time they saw me, so seeing Kang Juha brought peace of mind. I wondered if work was allowed to be this easy, and I felt like giving him a chocolate because he was so commendable for following my words obediently…

“He’s an Esper belonging to the Center, so there’s no need for him to harbor hostility toward me.”

Isn’t it normal for a patient to listen to a doctor? Of course, I’m not currently in the position of a doctor, but Kang Juha believes I am.

But Director Shin didn’t seem inclined to agree with me.

“You really know nothing about Kang Juha, do you?”

Then she said that Kang Juha’s original personality was actually closer to that first image of him—like a beast trying to bite anyone he saw.

“No, it was that bad?”

When I couldn’t believe it, she spoke seriously.

“I really feel like your memories have been manipulated, Yihyeon.”

Even so, she diligently wrote the information she had verified into the report.

Before long, whir—the sound of a machine was heard, and the completed document was printed out.

“You there, the witness.”

The man who had come as an observer had now become a witness. He still seemed confused by the memories he had seen.

Director Shin, who had organized the stack of papers and put them into a file, beckoned toward the man.

“You need to sign here to confirm that this matches what you verified. If you didn’t bring a seal, a thumbprint is fine.”

Where had his majestic entrance gone? He approached unsteadily and pressed his thumb firmly into the confirmation box.

“You went through a lot of trouble to come here. And thank you for acting as a witness. Just think of what you saw today as something that never happened and live your life forgetting it. You must never disclose this to the outside. That ‘outside’ includes the Director of the Medical Bureau. If you get caught leaking it…”

Director Shin trailed off and smiled brightly. It was the most terrifying threat in the world.

The man seemingly felt the same way, as he hurriedly shook his head. His determination never to speak of it was prominent.

“Anyway, if you try to recall the memories you saw today, you’ll suffer from a massive headache, so if possible, don’t even think about it. Even if you try to speak, the words won’t leave your mouth. You may go now.”

Director Shin gave a half-hearted wave as a greeting, and the man bowed deeply before disappearing like a flash.

The smile instantly vanished from Director Shin’s face as she watched the door he exited. Tsk. Clicking her tongue, she spoke.

“He’ll probably suffer from headaches for a month.”

As my gaze turned toward the file, Director Shin covered it and put it straight into a drawer. Since this was a type of audit, I, the subject, had no right to view it.

“I can’t tell you the details, but I think I can definitely guarantee that you’ve never used your special ability on Kang Juha for the purpose of brainwashing.”

“That’s enough then.”

Since that was the purpose of coming here in the first place, nothing else mattered. Director Shin, nodding slowly, seemed lost in thought as she tapped the desk with her fingertips, and finally spoke after a long while.

“And Yihyeon, I’m just saying this as your direct superior…”

“Yes.”

“If it’s a burden, you can hand over the position of being in charge of Kang Juha to me.”

I knew with what intention she was saying this to me. And that it was a statement born purely out of concern for me.

“I’m fine.”

“Sometimes I feel sorry for dragging you into the National Security Bureau. But it’s also one of the top 10 best things I’ve done in my life.”

“It’s okay. I like it here.”

“Is it that you like it here, or is it that you have no other choice?”

She hit the nail on the head. Perhaps because she was someone who read minds, not even a bit of a lie worked.

It was comfortable because there was no need to beat around the bush or mix in empty words, but sometimes it felt a bit suffocating. I wondered if this is why everyone dislikes mental-type Espers.

“Anyway, I’m going to take the grade test again soon. If I get an A-grade, I’m bolting immediately.”

“Right, it’s better to have big dreams than petty ones.”

Director Shin laughed and shook her head.

We were in the same boat. Fellow sufferers. Between people who already know everything, there was no need to painfully boast of one’s own misfortunes. We were in the same situation anyway.

At that moment, a thudding sound of someone running was heard from the far end of the hallway.

“What’s that?”

On this floor, there should be nothing but the Director’s office and nameless rooms, so for someone to be running like that…

“Somehow, I think it’s my secretary…”

With those words, the door swung open with a loud bang.

“Team Leader!”

As expected, my prediction was not off. He appeared gasping for breath, and upon spotting Director Shin sitting at the desk, his face turned pale.

“Ah…, am I not supposed to come in right now?”

Director Shin waved her hand as if it were fine.

“You’re already in, so what. Just say what you need. You look busy.”

“I’m sorry! Team Leader! Esper Kang Juha is Code Blue right now. You need to go immediately…!”

Code Blue was a warning one level lower than Code Red; it meant showing pre-rampage symptoms, but not to the extent that his life was in danger. Simply put, it was a state similar to a coma.

By civilian standards, it would be a huge deal, but the reality was that for Espers, it wasn’t even treated as an emergency unless a rampage actually occurred.

While I stood there despondently, Director Shin completely undid the straitjacket that had been loosely hanging on my body.

“Go quickly for now. If you ever want to hand him over to me, just do it.”

Normally, I would have welcomed the fact that I could push my work onto someone else with open arms, but for some reason, the words wouldn’t come easily.

My feet were simply racing toward the special treatment room without a moment’s rest.