Let’s rewind to when I had just arrived in Nighthaven.

Wearing my tattered cloth cloak and running around the city, I managed to figure out one thing: this was the early stage of the original story.

Certain indicators made it clear.

The corrupt corporations and gangs that were supposed to be thoroughly dismantled early on in the story were still thriving.

The idol group that gained popularity thanks to the protagonist’s efforts hadn’t even debuted yet.

But it wasn’t too far back in time either—the newly inaugurated dragon mayor was already making headlines on TV.

That meant I had arrived at a time when the story had begun, but only a few episodes in.

“Hmm, so much for my plan to fake amnesia and sneak into the protagonist’s office as a restaurant worker downstairs. By the later stages, that place becomes the safest spot in the entire city. Too bad it’s not an option yet.”

It was one of my most efficient plans, with a low-risk, high-reward ratio. But since the timing didn’t align, it had to be scrapped.

That left me with riskier options.

This was the “chaos era” of Nighthaven, when various factions betrayed and schemed to rise to power. If I wanted to survive here, I’d have to accept a certain level of danger.

“For now, it’s best to stay in the underworld. I don’t have any legal status, and to make matters worse, I look like a ridiculously beautiful young girl. The moment I step out into the open, trouble is guaranteed.”

I hadn’t confirmed whether I truly lacked identification, but considering I had been trapped in an unknown space before arriving here, the chances of me having legitimate credentials were slim.

If I tried to establish my identity and got detained in the process, I’d likely end up handed over to the police for processing.

And the police, still riddled with corruption, might sell me off to some sleazy wealthy collector with unsavory tastes.

“Straight to a bad ending. And if my psychic abilities are discovered… the risks get even worse.”

My abilities were another problem.

This world of Fixer was essentially Earth but with fantasy races and magic spilling over from other dimensions.

In this world, “psychic abilities” referred to a power separate from both science and magic.

This kind of power often meant abilities wielded by the invaders who had destroyed the otherworldly civilizations, according to the story.

Compared to the destructive power of those invaders, my telekinesis was little more than a child’s party trick.

But since my telekinesis didn’t involve chanting spells or drawing runes, it would undoubtedly be classified as a “psychic ability.”

“Now that I think about it, this is way too dangerous. If I get caught, I’ll be dissected as a lab rat for sure.”

Still, it was better than having no abilities at all.

If I were just a pretty, powerless person, I’d be entirely reliant on others to survive—a far more precarious position.

So, while it was a double-edged sword, I couldn’t deny it was lucky to have.

My plan moving forward was simple:

Hide in the underworld until the protagonist’s group cleaned up the mess that was Nighthaven.

It could take months or years, but I was confident I could endure. Thinking of a peaceful future made the idea bearable.

1 Month Later

After a month of living in the underworld, I realized one thing: it was more livable than I’d expected.

“Another newbie, huh? Hey, how long do you think that one will last?”

“I give it a week. By then, we’ll probably find their hollowed-out body dumped in some alley.”

“Kihihi! That soft white fluff peeking from under their cloak… makes my mouth water!”

I overheard this conversation when I first entered the underworld.

A muscular mohawk-wearing thug and a scrawny cyber-psycho were chatting among themselves, likely about me.

I didn’t blame them.

Wrapped head-to-toe in ragged cloth, I probably looked like a goblin or some other small creature.

My wide-eyed curiosity as I glanced around must have screamed “easy target.”

In a place where the weak were preyed upon, appearing anything less than invincible was practically begging to be killed.

But that was only if I didn’t have telekinesis.

“AAAHHH! M-my arm!”

“My arm’s moving on its own! M-magic! This freak’s a mage!”

“No chanting either! Silent magic! A monster!”

My telekinesis had the strength to tear open steel doors.

It was effortless to twist the arm of any thug who tried to pick a fight with me.

Of course, I didn’t go so far as to rip arms off or twist them in unnatural, grotesque ways—that would be too gory for me.

Instead, I settled for giving them just enough pain to leave them bawling their eyes out.

“J-just you wait! I’ll get you for this!”

As I released the thug’s arm, he scrambled to his feet and bolted down the alley, scurrying away like a cockroach.

I didn’t bother chasing him.

While he had been writhing in pain, I had already used telekinesis to pick his pocket and snatch his wallet.

“Money practically walks into my hands. Maybe I’m a natural for the underworld?”

Most people in the outskirts of Nighthaven were third-rate thugs—castaways from the city’s cutthroat competition.

They weren’t enhanced with cutting-edge cybernetics or fortified by drugs and training.

They weren’t exotic races with extraordinary abilities.

Nor were they magic users.

With my telekinesis, I rarely needed to exert myself fully.

A light squeeze or a mild pressure was enough to make them surrender and run for the hills.

And since they were the ones picking fights with me, I could justify taking their wallets without guilt.

Unfortunately, when I opened this particular wallet, it turned out to be nearly empty.

“Ugh, not even enough for a cheap sandwich.”

Disappointed, I tossed the wallet aside. The slimy, greasy texture of its exterior made it even more unappealing to keep.

It seemed I’d need to hunt for a more worthwhile target today.

After confirming no one was watching, I used my telekinesis to leap onto a nearby rooftop.

My ragged cloth fluttered in the air but stayed securely wrapped around me thanks to my practiced control over my abilities.

“Now then, where’s today’s bad guy hiding?”

I quietly moved between rooftops, peering into alleys below.

The outskirts of Nighthaven’s underworld were sprawling, like a grotesque maze.

It would take half a day to search every nook and cranny at this pace.

But I didn’t need to check every alley.

In a place where fights broke out dozens of times a day, trouble would come to me soon enough.

“KYAAAA!”

“Found it.”

Hearing a woman’s sharp scream, I immediately glided toward the source.

The commotion wasn’t far, so I didn’t have to push my telekinesis to its limits to arrive.

In a shadowy alley, I spotted a man and a woman.

The man, dressed in a host’s uniform, was smirking, while the half-dressed woman trembled, holding her shoe as a makeshift weapon.

“Don’t come any closer! I-I said stay back!”

“Hmm? That’s strange. You were fine just a moment ago. What changed?”

Their exchange was enough to help me piece together the situation.

The woman was likely a prostitute working in the backstreets.

The man was her client.

But instead of a normal transaction, he had demanded something extreme—like pulling out her fingers.

When she refused and tried to flee, he cornered her in a dead-end alley.

“What a scumbag.”

To me, it was obvious who the bad guy was.

No matter the circumstances, forcing someone to such an extreme was unacceptable.

“Alright, he’s today’s target. Time to lift his wallet.”

I didn’t care about being some righteous hero like the protagonist.

But stealing from the worst kinds of people? That was a cause I could get behind.

Without hesitation, I vaulted over the rooftop railing and dropped silently between the two.

“What the…?”

“H-Huh?”

The sudden intrusion left both of them stunned.

Wrapped in my cloak, I could feel their confused gazes on me.

“A cool one-liner would’ve been great here. Too bad I can’t talk.”

Once again, my inability to speak felt like a missed opportunity.