A Pretty Nuclear Bomb

"Whew. So, Gyu-jin. How's the interrogation going?"

"They're cooperating, so it's going well enough. But honestly, who wouldn't be scared with a nuclear bomb sitting right in front of them that just hasn't gone off yet? I'm shaking so hard I feel like I'm going to die."

"You've got it too good. Everyone else is dying to be assigned a beauty like that."

"Look, I'll grant you she's pretty. That's a fact. But in a world this full of beautiful women, am I supposed to be happy that this particular one is a nuclear warhead? If you're that jealous, why don't we switch?"

"Ahaha. I'm trying to cheer you up, that's all. Anyway, at least the view's nice, right?"

"What good is a nice view if my stomach's in knots? I'm going to end up spending more on antacids than I make…"

Gyu-jin grumbled at his relentlessly teasing senior and swallowed a sedative.

It had already been four years since gates linking this world to others had begun opening across the globe. Neighboring countries were already at war over land and resources. There was no reason to assume that beings crossing over from other dimensions would be any more restrained.

Of course, some of them were simply explorers of the unknown — people curious enough to seek contact with another civilization, or hungry for technologies their own world didn't have. But plenty of civilizations were not so benign. Someone had to weed those out. That was why people like Gyu-jin existed.

On paper, the job was to welcome Returnees, Awakened Beings, and tourists from other worlds. One look at the interrogation he'd just finished was enough to kill that illusion. People like him were pawns, placed on the board to pick out the dimensional troublemakers who'd come across with something other than sightseeing in mind.

"I always wondered why civil servants got paid so well. Turns out it's for this…"

Pawn or not, the compensation was generous. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠trouble was that the money was the price of a life that could end the moment something went wrong, and no figure was ever quite enough to make that feel fair. Most people only got one life. Thinking of the sultry nun he'd just faced, Gyu-jin couldn't shake the feeling that today might be his last.

Not that the nameless sister had actually done anything threatening. On the surface she was exactly what his senior had said — a beauty, and not just any beauty. Hers was the kind of face that pulled a man's eyes whether he wanted it to or not, paired with a figure and an outfit so ravishing he'd had to swallow hard. Gyu-jin had at least built up some immunity from the otherworldly priestesses who'd come through before. Habits slit up the side high enough to flash a hip seemed to be a common design wherever these clergy were arriving from; every last one of them dressed like that. If they hadn't, he might well have fallen for a sister who smiled with her eyes and spoke in that honeyed voice. He'd even jotted a note during the interrogation wondering whether her ability was charm, or outright brainwashing.

The mana reading they were getting off her, though, didn't just exceed the danger threshold. It blew past it entirely. A clueless civilian might have thought, This nun keeps smiling at me. Maybe she likes me, and happily let the mood carry them. But even with mana restraints locked on her wrists, her presence filled the room. One glance at the indoor mana-density numbers on the chart, and Gyu-jin couldn't relax for a second. He was an adult now — the kind who could look at a number and know whether to laugh or cry.

His senior, utterly indifferent to any of this, kept needling him.

"Sometimes when you become someone's case officer, you end up getting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠involved with them. Wouldn't that make things a lot safer? There's Jeong Eun-yeong over in the Returnee Department — she got together with hers. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Hunter Ella, I think it was."

"That's because that one was a Returnee. Originally from this world. Going to another one and coming back doesn't make adapting that hard. This one is from a completely different world. I don't even know if she's actually human."

"You really are terrified. Fine, I get it. Let's swap for a bit. I'll go see your sister; you go deal with the blonde. Hand over the interrogation file. This one's the blonde's."

"Wait — are you sure that's all right?"

"What's a senior for if he doesn't help when his junior's struggling?"

He wasn't a complete villain, at least. The senior swapped checklists with Gyu-jin without hesitation. Grateful, Gyu-jin finished his break and headed in the opposite direction from the interrogation room he'd just left. At the very top of the checklist he'd been handed, he wrote the subject's name first.

Helena. That was what the nun had called her, so it was probably right.

The whole thing was almost funny, once he thought about it. The first thing two strangers do is greet each other and exchange names — and neither file had that written down. He could blame his own panic, but what exactly had this senior even recorded?

Not a single piece of it had been obtained by asking. Everything had been written down with nothing but his eyes and a few instruments. That was when Gyu-jin understood. His senior had just dumped the entire job on him — and was planning to free-ride on whatever Gyu-jin had already recorded.

Not that there was much he could do about it. This wasn't someone who would steal the credit, and extra work didn't bump his salary anyway. He told himself it was just a junior taking on a little more grunt work. Not having to sit across from that nun again was blessing enough.

"Excuse me. I'm the junior of the person who was here earlier. I'd like to speak with you for a moment, if that's all right?"

Gyu-jin arrived at Helena's interrogation room and knocked from outside. No answer came back. Don't tell me she already escaped. Did that scatterbrained senior leave without even locking the door? The thought made his chest lurch when the knob turned freely in his hand — but once he stepped inside, the woman in the bloodstained white shirt and hot pants was simply lying on the bed. Unlike the nun, she wasn't even wearing restraints. Fair enough: aside from the revolver, she hadn't looked dangerous. She'd just chosen not to answer.

"Ms. Helena, are you feeling all right? We purified you, but the blood wouldn't come out, so your clothes are still a bit of a mess. If that bothers you, I can have something clean brought in."

The urge to slam the alarm faded. He approached the desk set in front of the bed and spoke. She hadn't reacted at all to his entering — but the moment she heard her name, Helena responded.

"Helena."

"Yes, Ms. Helena. Ah — are you having trouble speaking? If so, we can communicate with gestures…?"

She repeated her own name, pointing at herself. Gyu-jin started to offer a kindly explanation, then stopped and shut his mouth. It wasn't that she had no intention of communicating. She'd reacted to her name and was nodding. She simply didn't understand anything else.

Of course she didn't. Coming from another world, a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠language barrier was the default. Even countries on the same planet couldn't always talk to each other; another world was hardly going to be easier. The obvious move was to call in an interpreter mage. His so-called senior had clearly done nothing of the sort, just to mess with him.

And the instant that clicked, another realization landed right behind it.

Then why had he been able to talk to the nun?

Had she already known this world's language? If she spoke fluent Korean, that would mean they used Korean on her side too — in which case Helena should have been able to talk to the senior, and to Gyu-jin. The fact that conversation worked with one of them and not the other meant something else entirely.

It meant she could force her meaning straight into someone's head.

Telepaths weren't unheard of in the real world. Once the passages to other dimensions had sprouted up like weeds, humanity had started developing unusual abilities of its own — evolution, maybe, against the monsters coming through. The so-called Awakened. A fair number of them could interfere with the mind, so Gyu-jin put it together quickly. He also realized, in the same breath, how late he'd been to notice.

Most psychic Awakened gave themselves away the moment they used their power. A voice ringing inside your skull was not a normal sensation. Sometimes the ability was too weak to catch. Sometimes the effect was real enough, but all it did was loosen your tension and settle your heart, so you never thought twice. Given the mana they were measuring off that nun, though, "too weak" was not on the table.

Gyu-jin found himself classifying her as a high-risk ability user capable of manipulating people's minds. If she could reach into someone else's head even while wearing restraints — how dangerous was that, exactly? Physically powerful Awakened were dangerous too, of course, but they were at least somewhat easier to contain. You assigned someone stronger and had them marked. A person who could interfere with the mind directly was a different problem from the start. What if she shook a powerful Awakened's mind and made them hers? What if she started exerting influence at the scale of a nation…?

"Ah — just a moment. Gyu-jin. My name. My name is Gyu-jin. Okay? Please wait just a second, something urgent came up. Uh, wait a minute. Emergency."

Alarmed enough to trot out his wretched English, Gyu-jin stood. He needed to take what he'd figured out to his senior. The nun might not have any such intention — but they still had to be ready. He went straight back to her room.

She was already smiling, sly as if she'd known he would come.

"Ahaha. You figured it out? I just wanted to make sure Helena was all right, that's all."

"What is it, Gyu-jin? What's going on?"

The spike in Gyu-jin's wariness toward the nun was, by then, entirely beyond his control.