Trapped in the Idol Universe

“Could it be that the ankle cuffs were for that reason too?”

To be honest, some of the charges made sense. But there’s always context to every situation.

Roy felt a bit wronged.

“No...!”

His sharply angled eyebrows protested his innocence. Kang Saeon, as if granting him a chance, leaned back and gave him an opening. After all, he had his own reasons to delay.

“All right. Tell me.”

Roy didn’t know where to begin. There were so many injustices, but he didn’t know which to explain first and could only part his lips.

Reading his confusion, Saeon began reciting the charges one by one.

“Which one shall we start with? Fine. Let’s do unlicensed driving.”

“Unlicensed...?”

Roy had much to say on that subject—but none of it would help. Before coming to the Wasteland he’d had a driver’s license; now, of course, he didn’t. Yet to admit that here felt absurd. He’d been the best driver, certified by his manager brother, as soon as he turned eighteen—until they’d arrived in the Wasteland.

“It’s just... the situation was so urgent I didn’t even have time to ask for help. Every second counted for the emergency patient.”

He suddenly wondered whether Hojin was awake yet. He had to check on him, but here he was, defending himself instead.

“An emergency doesn’t excuse unlicensed driving,” Saeon cut in.

Roy clenched his jaw. To do so would be to admit guilt. He wanted leniency, not condemnation.

“But there were no other cars on the road, and no one got hurt—”

“You still smashed property, crossed the center line, drove the wrong way, ran a red light, and sped,” Saeon said flatly.

“Wow.”

Even Roy had to admit the scale of his infractions was impressive. Still, he had a defense.

“If there had been other cars, of course I would have followed traffic laws. But, as I said, there were no vehicles, and the patient’s life was on the line—”

“But the fact remains, Mr. Roy, you broke the law.”

Saeon’s firm tone left no room. Roy swallowed his pride.

“...I was wrong.”

“I don’t think this is your first time. Do you have prior driving offenses?”

“Yes... no?”

Roy immediately corrected himself.

“This was my first time ever.”

At least in the Wasteland it was.

“Very well. Next: unauthorized theft of a government vehicle. Anything to say?”

He had nothing.

“I’m sorry.”

“You damaged the vehicle severely.”

That, at least, Roy could explain.

“It wasn’t me—it was the Blood Fiend!”

He shouted louder than ever, veins bulging with indignation.

“I was sitting still in the car, just like you said, Team Leader! Then suddenly the Fiend crashed down on it—”

True, Roy’s own rage had worsened the damage, but the whole thing had started because of the monster.

“I saw it,” Saeon said.

“See? You saw it too!”

“But what I’m saying is that aside from the side mirror, you also crushed the bumper, doors, and tires.”

“...I’ll pay for it.”

If only he could blame the Fiend outright— Saeon was inflexible.

Roy glared at him. Only after explaining that the civilian kidnapping charge was mistaken, and that he had no intention of fleeing, did the interrogation finally end.

“So now you’re going to release me?”

“No.”

“Why not!”

He’d said everything! He’d even asked for special consideration—but the Detention Bureau still treated him like any criminal.

Yet Saeon looked a little begrudging.

“The attending physician dealt with that. He said that once you woke up, you’d try to escape the hospital, so they couldn’t risk letting you go.”

Saeon added perfunctorily that he was just a civil servant forced to follow the minister’s orders.

“Huh.”

The attending physician? Eunsung?

Roy let out a bitter laugh.

“Where do you expect me to go? Look at my body.”

He held out his bandaged arms. Actually, it was Eunsung he needed to see, not Saeon. A single heal from him would have fully restored Roy—but the young doctor insisted on letting nature take its course. Neither of them made any sense.

Roy pouted angrily, when footsteps approached outside the door.

He assumed it was Eunsung—but the door opened to reveal an elderly man with white hair, holding a cake box.

“Who are you?” Roy snapped.

The old man smiled kindly and stepped forward.

“It’s an honor to meet you at last, Mr. Roy.”

“Huh?”

He even knew Roy’s name, but Roy had never seen him before. Saeon, who had been seated, sprang to his feet and bowed deeply.

“Minister, you’ve come.” 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

A minister? That old man?

If Saeon treated him with such deference...

“The Detention Bureau?!” Roy blurted.

“Ha-ha, yes. I am Heo Ho, Minister of the Awakened Management Bureau.”

Roy’s jaw dropped at the name—Minister Ho-ho. He decided it had to be a joking nickname, just for him.

“Pleased to finally meet you.”

The old man offered his rough, wrinkled hand. Roy hesitated, feeling more guilt than gratitude.

“Why... why would you come here?” Roy stammered.

Minister Ho smiled apologetically, having noticed Roy’s bandages.

“My apologies. I should have introduced myself sooner.”

He laughed awkwardly. It was absurd—what reason could the Bureau Minister have to see him in person? Roy’s vision wavered; even without a mirror he could feel his eyes trembling.

Saeon had brought a chair for Roy beside the minister.

“Thank you,” Roy muttered.

Thus, the minister naturally took up residence in Roy’s hospital room. The room belonged to Roy, yet he hadn’t even offered the seat. He regretted being unable to protest.

Noticing his discomfort, the minister gestured for Roy to sit.

“Please, sit comfortably.”

“This is my hospital room,” Roy retorted, collapsing onto the bed.

He wished he’d stayed unconscious.

“May I ask one question?”

“Of course.”

“Are you here to arrest me?”

Given Saeon’s earlier words, Roy couldn’t imagine a simple visit.

“Ha-ha, arrest such a distinguished guest? I might invite you, but never arrest you.”

The old minister clearly knew Roy’s S-rank status. Roy realized the Bureau could hardly be unaware of who he was.

‘Wait—then what about the arrest warrant? They knew I was S-rank and still did that?’

Roy glanced at Saeon, who’d tried to take him in for processing, cuffs and all.

Saeon cleared his throat.

“It was a misunderstanding.”

The tables had turned. Roy had sweated through his explanations, and now Saeon looked flustered.

Roy seized the opening.

“That’s not true! Just now, the Team Leader handcuffed me, called me an arsonist—”

“Did he now?”

Saeon’s expression flickered with betrayal.

“You were told to bring him even by force, Minister,” he protested inwardly, but he was no fool. He bowed his head in apology.

“I’m sorry. In my haste, I was discourteous.”

“Labeling a fire-type Awakened an arsonist—what nonsense.”

At last, Saeon softened. Roy felt a surge of confidence now that the minister had intervened.

“All right. From now on, be more careful. Mr. Roy, you’re a valuable asset to our Bureau.”

“I understand.”

Saeon bowed, Roy nodded—and then froze as he processed the phrase “our Bureau’s asset.”

He looked at Minister Ho, bewildered.

“I hear you’ve been in quite a predicament. We will handle it for you.”

Roy had spent enough time in show business to know nothing was free. A kindly smile could hide any motive. Then he remembered what Seohyun-woo had said about the Bureau’s agents tailing him.

‘They planned the warrant from the start, framed me with ridiculous charges...?’

His suspicion hardened into certainty as the minister continued.

“Of course, there will be conditions.”

Roy knew what the condition would be: join the Awakened Management Bureau. Their methods annoyed him, but perhaps the lengths they’d gone to meant they genuinely valued him. Still, as he’d told Seohyun-woo, he intended to belong to no one.

Before the minister could finish, Roy asked:

“And if I refuse?”

“You seem to know what I’m about to propose,” the minister said with a knowing smile.

“I do.”

He toyed with his chin thoughtfully.

“You’re sharper than I expected. Yes—I wish to invite you to join the Awakened Management Bureau.”

What followed were sweet words: how highly they regarded him, promises of support and freedom, offers to meet any conditions he set. In effect, a blank-check contract.