Chapter 3: The Strange Boy, Lee Hwi-jun (3)

“…I don’t have one.”

“…Hmm?”

“…I said, ” I don’t have a guardian to contact.”

“…Ah.”

The police substation was engulfed in a suffocating silence, the aftermath of a verbal landmine.

Officer Ahn Dae-soo watched the boy carefully, noting his cold tone as he claimed to have no guardian.

…Is that true?

That he really doesn’t have anyone to contact?

Honestly, the odds were extremely low.

The police substation where Ahn Dae-soo worked was located in Somang 1-dong, right in the heart of Seoul.

A student living in such an area—especially one wearing the uniform of Nakwon High School, a prestigious school—claiming not to have a single guardian sounded absurd.

Anyone else might’ve dismissed it as a convenient lie to avoid the situation.

A simple identity check under the name “Lee Hwi-jun,” which was stitched onto the boy’s name tag, would’ve revealed the truth.

“Sigh…”

But after a moment of thought, Ahn Dae-soo decided against it.

Because the boy’s words hadn’t sounded like a lie.

And if they were true, trying to verify it would only rub salt into a wound.

It was already an uncomfortable topic, and he didn’t want to make it worse.

Letting out a quiet sigh, Ahn Dae-soo offered an apology.

“…Sorry, I must’ve touched a sore spot. That wasn’t my intention. I apologize.”

Surprisingly, the boy’s frosty expression softened a bit, and he asked in a tone of mild surprise,

“…You’re not going to check? You don’t even know if I’m telling the truth.”

“You didn’t seem like you were lying. Like I said earlier, cops can usually tell when someone’s lying. That wasn’t a bluff.”

As he tapped near his eye to emphasize his point, Ahn Dae-soo suddenly flinched.

Between the boy’s long bangs, which almost covered his eyes, he saw a pair of calm, clear eyes staring directly into his.

Not just observing—but seeing through him.

Those eyes…

For a moment, Dae-soo even forgot to breathe under that intense gaze.

Realizing he had let himself be momentarily shaken by a high schooler, he raised his voice as if to cover it up and quickly asked, “Th-That’s not the point! Just tell me the truth already! Why did you grab that girl?”

“…If I tell you the truth, will you believe me?”

The boy responded with a faint, almost self-mocking smile, as if he didn’t expect much.

Irritated by the challenge, Ahn Dae-soo narrowed his eyes.

“I can’t decide to believe it or not unless you tell me. Just say it—whatever it is. Honestly.”

“…You’re right. I’ll be honest, then.”

The boy nodded, meeting Ahn Dae-soo’s gaze with steady eyes, and gave his testimony.

“I saw it. Someone trying to push her from behind, toward the oncoming bus. She was at the stop. I pulled her back to stop the accident.”

He said it as though he were simply reporting the facts. Calm and unshaken.

“…You saw someone? Pushing her from behind?”

Ahn Dae-soo was confused.

“Who? That girl said there was no one else at the bus stop but you and her.”

Her statement completely contradicted the boy’s.

Yet both had sounded truthful.

They both can’t be telling the truth… can they?

Trying to make sense of it, Ahn Dae-soo asked, but the boy replied casually, “She didn’t lie. She just couldn’t see it. That’s all.”

And that only deepened Ahn Dae-soo’s confusion.

“…She couldn’t see it? So you’re saying… there was something that only you could see?”

“Yes.”

To such a ridiculous question—asking if he had seen something invisible to normal people—the boy nodded without hesitation.

What the hell…

Ahn Dae-soo felt a headache forming.

This was the kind of story that made you question your sanity just by listening.

Never thought I’d ask something like this in my career as a cop…

But still, the boy didn’t seem to be lying, so Dae-soo ended up asking something he never thought he’d say in his entire life.

“So… are you saying… it was like… a ghost or something?”

And to that absurd question—

“People usually call it that. I just say ‘that thing’ or ‘that one.’”

The boy nodded again, answering just as absurdly.

“…Well, damn.”

Hearing the boy’s response, Ahn Dae-soo let out a sigh, utterly dumbfounded.

He’s telling me that ghosts exist, and that he can see them?

And expects me to believe that?

Under normal circumstances, such nonsense would’ve made anyone angry—like, “Are you messing with me right now?” level mad.

But then, why…

“Why the hell do I feel like everything he’s saying is true?”

His gut was telling him that every word out of the boy’s mouth was actually the truth.

Ahn Dae-soo, for the first time in his life, began to question his intuition—an instinct he’d always trusted and never been let down by.

Still reeling from the shock, the boy spoke again, almost as if he’d expected that reaction.

“I understand this must be overwhelming. I’m guessing you’ve never met someone who says things like this before.”

“Ghosts… come to think of it, there was someone in the unit who used to say they saw them…”

The boy’s words suddenly brought an old memory to the surface, and Ahn Dae-soo muttered,
“Well, not exactly never. You’re the second one. I’ve met one other person who said they could see ghosts.”

“The second? You’ve met someone else who sees them? What kind of person were they?”

The boy asked with genuine interest, clearly intrigued that he wasn’t alone.

So Ahn Dae-soo told him the story of that person.

“That guy’s name was Bae Doo-ri. He was a senior in my unit… but even if you asked me to describe him, I couldn’t tell you much. He got discharged not long after I was assigned there.”

“I heard that from the very first day he joined until the day he left, he kept going on about seeing the ghost of an American soldier roaming around the base. I never actually spoke to him, so I don’t know if it was real or just nonsense…”

After hearing that, the boy looked genuinely impressed.

If that’s true, then… he must’ve been pretty incredible.”

“Incredible…? What do you mean?”

Ahn Dae-soo raised an eyebrow at that remark.

Incredible?

Was he saying that being able to see ghosts was some kind of amazing power?

Like something only special people had?

“If that’s all he meant, it’d almost be kind of cute…”

Honestly, Ahn Dae-soo hoped the boy did mean it that way.

Then he could just chalk him up as one of those teens suffering from delusions of grandeur—

“I can see ghosts, so I must be special!”

That would’ve been easier to deal with.

But then—

“Someone who can see them… joining the military and serving full term?”

The boy’s next words weren’t nearly as harmless.

“Most people like that either end up in a psychiatric hospital or… and this is really unfortunate… they can’t handle it and end up just like the things they’re seeing. That’s just what I think, of course. I haven’t met many people like me, so I could be wrong.”

The boy’s tone was calm, unbothered—like he was just stating facts.

He wasn’t trying to sound special or tragic. Just… honest.

And that’s what sent a chill down Ahn Dae-soo’s spine.

He says he thinks that’s just how it is.

Which basically means he’s been living his life surrounded by things that could very well drive him insane… or worse.

…Gulp.

Without meaning to, Ahn Dae-soo swallowed dryly.

The whole thing was just that eerie.

But what was even more unsettling—

“If you’re gonna say something like that, at least look like you’re having a hard time or something…”

The boy, Lee Hwi-jun, said it all with a completely blank, calm expression.

At that moment, Ahn Dae-soo finally realized—this kid was far beyond what could be considered “normal.”

“Creepy little bastard…”

He brushed the goosebumps off his arms and muttered the thought to himself.