Episode 2

  Darkness.

  In that blackness, Jihyun finally understood the nature of his power. It was a seductive thing—irresistible in its allure.

  The ability to know everything the world held.

  If he wished, he could hold the past in his hands as if it were a book. Every scrap of information about whatever fell within his sight unfurled before him.

  Memories of people, the recollections bound in objects, countless lived experiences—

  A torrent of knowledge that, frankly, would be crushing to anyone else, now belonged to him.

  He felt, of course, that the gift was not yet perfect.

  Knowing something in your mind and actually wielding it are two very different things. He would need practice—stumbles and failures—to make this strange power his own.

  He also couldn’t see the future. The places from which this power originated seemed intentionally scrubbed clean, like someone had erased them with an invisible eraser.

  Limits.

  Near-omniscience in feeling, yet flawed in execution.

  Still, Jihyun felt little complaint about that. After all, the origin of this ability was not of his world.

  There was no point grumbling about the imperfections of a power bought with pain and terror.

  Those people from another world had sent this fragment of ability for some private, secret purpose. Their attempt had failed, leaving only a shard lodged inside him.

  The screams he'd heard before losing consciousness had been their despairing cries. They had tried to deny failure, no doubt—but reality could not be unsaid.

  Because of that failure, his destiny had altered. For that alone, he felt a strange, muted gratitude.

  What would come next was someone else’s problem—for later.

  For now, he needed to master what he had. More important than worrying about an uncertain future was preventing this power from devouring him.

  Since fate had handed him this force, it would be better to wield it than to be swept away by it.

  Satisfied with that thought, Jihyun awoke feeling well-rested. It was a pleasant kind of waking.

  “Jihyun, you awake?”

  His mother’s voice was hoarse from crying, but hearing him rouse had calmed her slightly.

  “Yes. I’m okay now. Ugh…”

  Jihyun answered in a cracked voice. His body still ached—muscle pain lingered, and the doctors had said he’d been burned by an electrical surge; his skin hurt accordingly.

  Still, his ability to speak suggested his recovery was swift. The doctors above his mother’s head—if that strange window of information was to be believed—had noted as much.

  “Don’t push yourself… yesterday was a nightmare. You screamed and collapsed, and then you snored like someone in a deep sleep—everyone was so shocked…”

  His mother sighed as she spoke.

  “You were out cold all night. I never would have guessed you’d sleep that hard. Really slept like the dead.”

  She forced a laugh—an exhale of relief. Jihyun returned a weak, embarrassed smile.

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  “Hmm… I slept, huh. But I feel a lot better after resting.”

  He shifted slowly. Unlike yesterday, he could move his arms and legs. The skin also looked—surprisingly—much improved.

  Doctors would call it a miracle, he imagined; the truth was something else, but there was no need to say anything.

  “Did the doctors say anything else?” he asked his mother, hoping for some news.

  “Not really…”

  “—The costs turned out higher than expected. The tests were expensive. What are we going to do—”

  His mother’s voice trailed off. Above her head, the floating stream of information kept updating—her feelings, her fears, and stray memories she'd long buried.

  “Oh, dear…”

  Jihyun sighed at both his mother’s words and the truths hovering above her. It seemed the bills would indeed be heavy.

  But not everything was bleak—he found something in his mother’s memories that brightened him.

  “Hey, remember that insurance policy?” he said, catching the moment. “You canceled most of them, but you left one in my name. You never took it seriously because the payout was small.”

  He spoke as if recalling something trivial.

  “Huh? Oh, right—yeah, that. I forgot about that one.”

  His mother’s expression shifted. In their current crisis, the memory of that policy felt like a lifeline.

  “Let’s use that for the hospital bills for now,” Jihyun suggested. “We’ll sort the rest later. I should be able to get discharged soon—resting at home will help.”

  His mother looked surprised and proud that her son remembered. But the idea of discharge alarmed her—he should still be recovering.

  “The doctors said you should stay a bit longer…”

  She spoke, worried. No matter the cost, recovery seemed the priority to her.

  “I’m fine. I feel better than I thought.”

  Jihyun raised his arm. The wounds that had marred it when he was admitted were now nearly gone.

  “Oh my… what on earth. How can this be?”

  His mother’s disbelief was raw. She remembered the shock of seeing his arm covered in wounds. It had only been last night, after all.

  Watching his mother grapple with the impossible, Jihyun smiled.

  “I don’t understand it either, but if I’m healing, isn’t that enough?”

  She could only exhale, muttering as if the whole thing were haunted.

  That was when they arrived.

  “Well, well—heard someone got hurt,” said a voice. The scammers came in with their men, lawless and unashamed.

  “You weren’t invited,” Jihyun said, offering a dry smile. Compared to the look on his mother’s face, he seemed unnervingly calm.

  “Oh? Our guy got injured—we need to be compensated. If he’s hurt, that’s our loss, isn’t it?”

  There was cruelty beneath the oily charm; his stomach turned just watching them. They had ruined their home, and their greed reeked from every line of their faces.

  He wanted to crush them by any means—yet now wasn’t the time.

  As they spoke, Jihyun quietly drew information from them. Even without trying, he could pull what he needed from their minds. He wasn’t fully comfortable with it yet, but it was enough.

  “So if he’s discharged, will you pay up right away? The interest is steep, you know.”

  The scammer smirked. Jihyun’s mother answered, terrified.

  “W-we—”

  The scammers’ eyes glittered; they smelled weakness and relished it.

  “Is this the rate your registered firm charges? If so, we’ll report the company—and they’ll be shut down,” Jihyun said softly.

  For a moment, the scammers faltered. Normally people so terrified wouldn't dare speak like that.

  “If you push us, we’ll have to respond in court. We have our own story to tell,” one of them snapped, trying to laugh it off.

  “Let’s take it to court, then,” Jihyun said. The moment he uttered the word “court,” their expressions shifted—something like discomfort flashed across their faces.

  They could have silenced him with force, perhaps. But this was a hospital. And Jihyun already held their secrets—their backers, their connections. If he chose to speak further, it could get interesting. But his body still needed rest; he didn’t want to provoke them more than necessary.

  “You’ll be discharged soon. Why not settle the money then? Standing here demanding it in a place with CCTV—you wouldn’t be that bold, would you?”

  The scammers went quiet, an uneasy instinct fluttering within them.

  “Ah, fine… we’ll see about it after you’re out. We’ll settle then.”

  They finally turned away—threats needed momentum, and it seemed wiser to reclaim their posture for now.

  “Thank you—go on now,” Jihyun said with a warm tone as he saw them out. His eyes, however, shone brighter than ever.

  “Jihyun… we have no money, really,” his mother whispered, still shaken. To see his usually proud mother reduced to such fear stung him.

  Had she suffered so much out of sight? He ground his teeth; ignorance might be bliss, but he knew now.

  “It’s all right. We’ll cover the hospital with the insurance and think it through once we get home. You should be able to go home by tomorrow.”

  He reassured her, his manner far more composed than usual. His mother looked anew at her son—so much more grown-up.

  “Okay. Rest for now. I’ll check the insurance. Jihyuk will order food for you later.”

  If she felt he still needed her, she would stay; but for now, Jihyuk’s presence seemed enough.

  “Don’t worry. Just go take care of things.”

  Jihyuk smiled, though the grin hid the eagerness brimming under it—the desire for what was coming next.

  We will make them pay for what they did to our family, Jihyun thought. He began plotting how best to punish them.

  Fortunately, he had all the information he needed—and his phone was intact. With his device unharmed, there was nothing stopping him from acting.

  “Shall we begin…?”

  He murmured, and as his mother left the room, he linked his consciousness to his phone and set his plan in motion.