After leaving the Ability Center’s lab, Yeonsu was taken to an interrogation room.
In the observation room, the members of the Violent Crimes Unit 1 watched her through the one-way mirror, every one of them wearing a look of sheer disbelief.
Wonyoung was the first to speak.
“So, you’re a Guide.
And you Guided the suspect sitting in there?”
It was the second time he’d asked the same question.
Seunghyun dutifully answered once again.
“I’m not a perfect Guide yet, but it’s safe to say so.
And yes, I did Guide her.”
“At the Ability Center?
And before that, too?”
Seunghyun nodded nonchalantly.
From what Wonyoung had heard, guiding involved holding hands, and if necessary, even more intimate skinship.
And that block of wood, Tae Seunghyun, did ‘that’ with the ability user in there?
Huh.
As Wonyoung made a strange noise, Seunghyun added, “Nothing’s really changed.
I just have one more skill.”
As a means of controlling ability users, Guides were treated better than them.
However, the public perception of Guides wasn’t good.
It was because of the physical contact involved.
In extreme cases, they wouldn’t hesitate to have sex with anyone.
As a result, Guides generally had a promiscuous image.
To become one overnight and be so calm about it—it was typical of Seunghyun, but he seemed so unfazed that it felt unreal to his team members.
Amidst the floundering team, their sole ability user, Kang Heechan, raised his hand with a strange expression.
When Seunghyun looked at him, Heechan stammered, a faint blush on his face that made the large man look strangely shy.
“Sunbae, then… in an emergency, may I request guiding from you?”
Seunghyun was silent.
All eyes turned to Heechan.
From behind Seunghyun, Wonyoung gestured at him, telling him to read the room.
Heechan, an expert at taking a hint, understood the unspoken command.
He quietly lowered his hand and slipped out, saying he’d get some coffee.
After the door closed, the team captain, Mun-gyeong, who had been lost in thought, spoke up.
“Seunghyun.”
“Yes, Captain.”
“You said you haven’t fully manifested as a Guide yet?”
“Yes.
They said full-scale guiding would be difficult because my numbers are still unstable.”
“Then for now, continue with your assigned duties.
If a gap in your work opens up, we’ll all split it and cover for you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Like Seunghyun said, on our team, there are no ability users or Guides, just team members.
Remember that.”
Even without Mun-gyeong’s order, none of them would look at Seunghyun differently.
They just felt dazed; it wasn’t as if he himself had changed.
The team answered with a resounding “Yes” and returned to their tasks.
“Captain.” Seunghyun stopped Mun-gyeong as he was about to leave.
“What is it?”
“I would like to use Ms.
Cha Yeonsu’s ability in the investigation.”
Seunghyun handed Mun-gyeong the report on her ability.
Mun-gyeong’s eyes sharpened as he read.
“Psychometry… It certainly seems helpful, but…”
“I’ve confirmed that it’s quite accurate.”
From the way Yeonsu had said Jang Iseok’s name at the hotel, Seunghyun had already guessed her ability.
The test had now confirmed it.
Cha Yeonsu’s ability was Psychometry—the power to read another’s memories through touch.
It was not only rare but also, as Injeong had said, powerful enough to be rated A-rank.
Hearing that, Mun-gyeong had to admit it was a coveted ability.
If she could not only gather evidence but also read the hidden circumstances of a crime, their investigations would become much smoother.
But before that, Yeonsu had yet to be cleared of any charges.
“And if the investigation reveals she’s connected to Hwang Seungmin’s death, what then?”
Seunghyun gave a perfectly businesslike answer to Mun-gyeong’s skeptical question.
“At that point, we arrest her according to procedure.
Even if she is arrested, once other agencies learn she possesses an A-rank ability, they’ll covet her regardless of her crimes.
They’ll find a way to manipulate her and put her to use.”
Mun-gyeong considered this.
“Since she’s a suspect who fell into our hands anyway, I don’t think it would be a major issue for us to use her ability, at least while the investigation is ongoing.”
While Mun-gyeong was lost in thought, Seunghyun stared at the small figure in the interrogation room, her head bowed low, not moving an inch.
Just looking at her sent a tingling sensation through his body.
Now that he had accepted he was a Guide, he felt he understood where this feeling came from.
The emotions he had for Cha Yeonsu were merely a side effect of the abnormal connection called guiding.
A first experience sometimes leaves a powerful impression.
But if he were to guide others, this feeling he currently had for her would surely fade.
“She could be hiding the truth and lying, you know.
How are we supposed to figure that out?”
Mun-gyeong cut to the heart of the matter.
“If she’s only pretending to cooperate, her lies could throw the entire investigation into chaos.”
“Then,” Seunghyun replied without a hint of hesitation, “we’ll just have to make it impossible for her to lie.”
At his confident tone, Mun-gyeong peered up at him over his glasses.
“Sounds like you have a plan.
Alright, let’s hear it.”
This was the kind of work Seunghyun excelled at.
He would take the fragments she’d let slip and use them to weave a trap she couldn’t escape, negotiating from a position of overwhelming advantage, by any means necessary.
Though the heat was on, an inexplicable chill still permeated the interrogation room.
Shivering in her thin clothes, Yeonsu felt her lips begin to tremble.
She looked down at the handcuffs clasped around her wrists.
She’d worn them for so long that the cold, constricting weight on her skin had become sickeningly familiar.
The chain connecting the cuffs ran through a hole in the center of the table and was secured to the floor below.
From the recovery room to her examinations, she had been chained like this the entire time.
‘Just how much time has passed?’
Yeonsu had no idea how long it had been since they brought her here.
She didn’t know if it was night or day, or how many days had slipped by, and there was no one to ask.
Ever since being hauled to the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency, she’d been dragged from one place to another like an animal, losing all sense of time.
The rooms they pushed her into for so-called examinations were mostly windowless, and she could only follow orders when it was time to move.
Occasionally, she would catch a glimpse of sunlight pouring through a long hallway window or see a cityscape cloaked in darkness.
Each fleeting glimpse was a stark reminder of everything they had stolen from her.
“Cha Yeonsu, under the Special Act on ability users, you are under arrest.”
An ordinary person was granted a forty-eight-hour window after their arrest.
If the police failed to prove their charges within that time, the suspect had to be released.
But for her, that system was meaningless.
According to the Special Act—the grounds Seunghyun had used for her arrest—ability users were exempt from that rule.
They were required to undergo an examination of their ability at the Ability Center, and depending on the case, they could be detained indefinitely.
Because she was an ability user.
Simply because of that.
That was the law.
“Ms.
Cha.”
Yeonsu flinched at the low voice that cut through the silence.
It was Tae Seunghyun.
He walked to the opposite side of the table, set down a file, and opened a laptop.
His presence alone seemed to shrink the room, making the air feel thick and difficult to breathe.
‘Tae Seunghyun.’ The realization that this man was the cause of her entire predicament swelled inside her, and her resentment grew to match it.
Even more troubling was her self-hatred—hating the memory of warmth when their bodies connected, and despising her treacherous flesh that yearned for him more with each passing moment.