Can I Hold Your Hand Just Once, Like Yesterday?

Warm.

Polly looked down at her hand.

A white, translucent ghost's hand.

It seemed the warmth that had wrapped around her palm until just moments ago still lingered.

“Mr. Mincheol…….”

Watching the man walk away, she softly murmured his name.

He was a strange person.

Polly was sensitive to other people's mana.

Beyond distinguishing whether someone was strong or weak, she could sense the emotions and intentions mixed into their mana, whether she wanted to or not.

Sometimes even their desires and malice...