The quiet hum of the television filled the room like a warm blanket, soft cartoonish voices and action sound effects bouncing off the walls. Ryujin remained sprawled across the comfortable white couch, his posture relaxed but his mind lightly preoccupied. The silver laptop still sat on his lap, its screen glowing with a familiar yet infuriating phrase:
"Identity Verification in Progress…"
He blinked lazily at it, his face unmoved, and gave a soft, tired sigh. "Still loading, huh?" he mumbled to himself, shifting his eyes away.
He gently lifted the laptop from his lap and placed it onto the small glass coffee table next to the sleek blue phone. It landed with a soft clink, joining the remote and the quiet buzz of static from the TV. Ryujin leaned back, head against the cushion, arms slack at his sides. On screen, a cartoon esper with glowing blue eyes punched a villain through a skyscraper. Flashy, energetic, and... unrealistic?—but strangely comforting.
He watched for a few minutes longer, his mind floating adrift. Eventually, curiosity tugged at him again. He glanced toward the laptop. Still loading.
Another sigh escaped his lips, barely louder than a whisper.
"Well, guess I'll check what kind of 'powers' I got for being mugged in broad daylight by that damn system," he said to no one in particular. His tone was calm as always, but there was a dull trace of irony hidden in it.
Ryujin reached over and picked up the blue phone. Its surface was smooth, oddly weighty in his hands, as if it carried something more than just circuitry inside. The design was minimalist—no ports, no buttons, no logos. Just a glossy blue shell, almost futuristic in how unrecognizably sleek it was.
He rolled it between his fingers thoughtfully. "No button, no fingerprint reader…" he mused quietly.
Holding it up, he experimentally pressed his thumb against the screen. Nothing happened. He turned it sideways. Tapped it twice. Shook it gently. Still nothing.
Ryujin tilted his head slightly and frowned—not annoyed, just… calculating.
"Maybe voice activated?" he muttered.
After a second of deliberation, he cleared his throat and spoke aloud, "Open."
The phone's surface suddenly pulsed with a soft white light. Then, like a camera flash, a burst of light exploded from the screen.
"—Tch—!" Ryujin flinched, closing one eye and turning his head to the side.
His heartbeat didn't spike, but his breath hitched for a second. A flash that sudden could've blinded someone more alert. But after a few seconds, when the light faded and his eyes readjusted to the dimness of the room, he looked down at the screen again.
There it was.
"Identity Verification in Progress…"
The same message.
Ryujin stared at the screen in silence.
"…Of course it is," he muttered with a deadpan stare.
Still holding the phone, he leaned over and gently placed it back beside the laptop on the coffee table. For a moment, he stared at both screens—two portals to whatever system had yanked him into this world—and considered flinging them at a wall. But he didn't have the energy, and this couch was way too comfortable to move from.
He leaned back once more, his head sinking into the cushion, and turned his gaze back to the TV. The hero was now firing lightning bolts at some lizard monster, the exaggerated effects flashing across the screen in bursts of color. Ryujin's lips twitched ever so slightly in what could almost be mistaken for amusement.
"Hope it doesn't take all day," he said calmly. "Would be nice to know if I can shoot gravitational balls or something…"
But his tone lacked any excitement or anticipation. It was as if he were commenting on the weather.
For a while, Ryujin allowed himself to zone out, letting the energetic voices of the cartoon keep him company. He wasn't really watching. Just listening. Letting the audio fill the silence of a world he didn't belong to… yet.
Dust motes danced lazily in the thin golden light. And within this quiet apartment—too new to feel like home, too surreal to feel real—Ryujin waited.
Waited for the system to finish verifying who he was.
Waited to see what he had become.
Waited, not with eagerness or anxiety, but with the kind of detached patience only someone like him could possess—someone who had seen too much and felt too little.
_____________________________________
The television's low hum filled the apartment with a constant, almost comforting noise as Ryujin remained sprawled across the couch. His body was still, his expression unreadable, and his sharp dark eyes fixated on the news segment unfolding before him. The words "Breaking News" blinked across the screen in bold red as the camera cut to a helicopter view of the smoldering ruins of K.L. Mall.
The same news reporter from last night appeared onscreen, her long black hair fluttering in the wind beneath her yellow jacket. "We are following up on the shocking turn of events that occurred last night," she announced, her tone solemn. "The Tier 2 esper Manson, responsible for the destruction of the K.L. Mall and the deaths of seventy-four civilians, has successfully escaped the scene... despite being confronted by Tier 4 Esper and national hero, Noah Flynn."
Ryujin's brow twitched ever so slightly.
It was a bizarre report. To anyone with knowledge of the esper world, the idea was almost laughable. A Tier 2 esper, running from a Tier 4? It would be like a pigeon outmaneuvering a jet fighter. And yet, here it was—broadcasted as fact.
The screen transitioned into a series of detailed charts and Esper Ability Classifications, provided by EACRO—the Esper Ability Classification and Research Organization. An authoritative male voiceover continued the narration.
"Manson's ability has long been classified under the mid-range combat category of 'Energy Projection.' All previous assessments confirmed no teleportation, dimensional manipulation, or movement-enhancing traits. Thus, the Esper community is left dumbfounded as to how he could have escaped Noah Flynn, especially considering Flynn's rare multi-ability class."
A headshot of Noah appeared onscreen next—a young man in his twenties with sharp silver eyes, unruly dark blonde hair, and a long scar etched down his left cheek. Ryujin recognized him instantly.
Noah Flynn. One of the most powerful espers in the game. A living cheat code, really. His three abilities were a deadly cocktail: Gravity Manipulation, Teleportation, and Energy Absorption. All ranked "Adept" in mastery, if Ryujin remembered the old in-game stats right.
"If Noah seriously wanted Manson detained," Ryujin muttered under his breath, "he wouldn't have even needed to lift a finger. Just increase the gravity and pin him down like a cockroach."
But instead of following logic, the news anchors turned to pure speculation.
"Some believe Flynn allowed Manson to escape, perhaps due to their shared past. Others suggest emotional hesitation played a role." The voiceover paused dramatically. "But neither the Psi Guardians International nor Flynn himself have issued any formal response."
A quiet exhale escaped Ryujin's nose. "So that's how this world's gonna work, huh?" he mumbled.
The news transitioned again, now showing press reporters being held behind barriers while a spokesperson from the Psi Guardians International addressed them in front of a massive white-and-blue building. Towering spires jutted into the sky behind him, each emblazoned with the golden insignia of the Guardians.
"We ask that the public respect Noah Flynn's need for privacy," the spokesperson said, his voice calm but firm. "He fulfilled his duty by rescuing over a hundred hostages. The Psi Guardians International fully supports his actions."
Ryujin leaned back against the couch, arms crossed. The mention of the Psi Guardians stirred something in his memory—not emotion, but cold recollection.
He had seen this plotline unfold before.
Psi Guardians International—HQ of the elite espers, peacekeepers of the world. In the game Espers of the World, they were glorified as noble defenders… but Ryujin, a player who paid attention to story flags, knew better.
"They're where the real disasters begin," he whispered.
Back then, during one of the game's major arcs, students from various esper academies were assigned internships at Psi Guardians' branches. That arc had marked the turning point—the moment the main cast began falling into their own ambitions, betrayal, and moral collapse. A player choice gone wrong or right could lead to entire city districts falling, depending on who you trusted.
And at the center of all that chaos… were the Guardians.
Ryujin's gaze lowered slightly. "Guess I really won't be depending on some heroes to keep my peace for a little longer" he muttered.
He stretched one leg out lazily, the light from the TV flickering across his bare skin. The morning sun still filtered in faintly through the edge of the curtains, casting long golden slivers across the polished floor. The room smelled faintly of detergent and warm air. For anyone else, this moment might've felt calm. Safe.
But Ryujin didn't believe in safety.
He turned his head slightly, casting a glance toward the laptop still displaying "Identity Verification in Progress" and the sleek blue phone beside it with its identical message.
"I just hope," he muttered flatly, "that whatever the abilities I've been given… is enough to keep me from getting dragged into someone else's story."
The screen then switched to yet another panel of esper experts discussing the recent anomaly. A few mentioned that perhaps a "second, unregistered ability" lay dormant within Manson. Others proposed external interference—black market tech, or even unlicensed esper injections.
Ryujin tuned it all out. His eyes were open, but his mind drifted elsewhere.
He knew what this meant.
Something was breaking the rules.
The game may have followed set mechanics back on Earth, but here, things weren't behaving the same. Escapes that shouldn't happen were happening. Characters who were once predictable were already deviating from script.
And if the rules were off…
Then his knowledge would truly not be an advantage as the system had said.
His fingers lightly tapped against the couch fabric as the sound of the television continued to fill the air. His lips parted slightly, whispering just loud enough for no one to hear.
"…Then I'll just have to make new rules."