Taeseong asked again, his curiosity piqued. It was the first time he had heard such a name, likely unfamiliar even if he had retained his memory. Unless one was fond of ghost stories or folklore, the term would seem utterly alien.
“Dueokshin…?”
“That’s right. Humans call me that.”
Dueokshin, or Dueoksini.
Commonly mistaken as the leader of goblins, this was a misconception, spread and distorted as stories spread and mutated across the internet and among gossip-loving storytellers.
“What does it mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like—a spirit that crushes human skulls.”
Taeseong murmured to himself, “A spirit that crushes human skulls…” The name was unfamiliar, but undeniably intriguing. The concept of such a spirit and its chilling nickname caught his attention.
“And you, human—what is your name?”
“Lee Taeseong.”
“Lee Taeseong… Such a lofty name for a mere human.”
Ignoring the obscure remark, Taeseong voiced another question that had formed in his mind.
“Why couldn’t you crush my skull, then?”
The question was blunt, almost audacious. Considering the fact that administrators had been killed in the very room where they were speaking, Taeseong’s inquiry bordered on reckless.
The boy—no, Dueokshin—smirked. It was laughable, the absurdity of the question itself. But the query also reinforced what he had already realized.
This human was not afraid of him. Not in the slightest.
And for that reason, no matter how much effort he exerted, he could not kill this man.
“It’s because you don’t fear me.”
“Because I don’t fear you? What does that have to do with you being unable to crush my skull?”
“You are unlike other humans. Most humans feel fear simply by facing me. They tremble at the realization of my existence, at encountering something beyond their comprehension. Their thoughts turn to death, and they succumb to terror.”
“Go on.”
“But you… you feel no fear of me at all. More precisely, you seem to lack any fear of death altogether. The world is inherently incomprehensible. Trying to understand the incomprehensible is pointless, much like humans themselves. Most are nothing more than worthless worms. Yet, once in a while, anomalies like you or that other one appear—creatures that surpass the limitations of your species.”
“That other one? So I’m not the only human like this you’ve encountered?”
“In all my time on this earth, there have been only two humans who did not fear me: you, Lee Taeseong, and a lunatic who fancied himself a righteous thief. Truthfully, I’m still unsure about him. He was undoubtedly human, but he didn’t seem like one. Honestly, he was a true monster—just wearing human skin.”
“Then doesn’t that make him no different from you? Was he even human to begin with?”
“Not much different, perhaps. But he was certainly human. As I said, he possessed a strength so extraordinary it defied belief, but human nonetheless. And yet, I’d say you give off an even stranger aura. Are you sure you’re human?”
Taeseong was reminded of a similar question he had been asked before.
“Oh, Pinocchio… Now that I think about it, there was that incident,” he thought.
When Oh Haeyoung had asked him if he was human, he had answered yes. Yet, Pinocchio’s nose had grown longer.
“I am. No doubt about it.”
His parents had birthed him, and his younger sister was living proof of his humanity. If he wasn’t human, what else could he possibly be?
“Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”
Though the boy’s eyes were covered, Taeseong felt as though he was being examined under an intense gaze.
“Perhaps. But at the very least, I think of myself as human. If I’m not, I suppose the truth will come out eventually.”
Taeseong responded with honesty.
He might not be human. But so what?
It wasn’t something he could determine right now, and even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t change much. With no memory of who he was, he had far more pressing concerns.
“I wonder, though. Why is it that neither you nor that thief fear me?”
“Why would I?”
He had no other answer. He didn’t understand why one would need to fear this. The very premise of the question was lost on him.
“I was born from the fear of humans. Death is my father; despair, my mother. I was nurtured by fear and instigated fear throughout the world.
To humanity, I am an unavoidable calamity. Do you think a mere human can resist the rain or stop the wind?”
“……”
“From the beginning of time, when humans encounter the unknown, their first reaction is fear. Fear of unseen disasters, fear of strange creatures, fear of mysterious illnesses, fear of inexplicable headaches. It was from such fears that I, Dueokshin, was born. If you are truly human, facing me should trigger an instinctive terror within you. Do you believe a human can stand before a natural disaster and feel nothing?”
“Fear… So that’s your essence. In simple terms, those who fear you die?”
“That’s right.”
“So that’s why the team leader, the other members, and even the administrators who entered this room all died?”
“Indeed. They all feared me.”
“By that logic, as long as I don’t feel fear toward you, you’re powerless against me.”
“Correct.”
“Why are you telling me this so freely? What’s in it for you? Surely, you gain nothing by revealing such a weakness.”
The boy burst into laughter, catching Taeseong off guard.
“What’s so funny?”
“Did you not hear what I just said? I am calamity itself. I am fear. Knowing what I am won’t stop humans from fearing me. Do you think humans wouldn’t be afraid of an earthquake or a typhoon just because they know it’s coming? Don’t delude yourself. Just because you’re special doesn’t mean others are, too.”
“A spirit born from fear with such a loose tongue. How amusing.”
“What did you just say?”
“Oh, you heard me? My apologies if you did.”
Infuriated, the boy wished more than anything to crush Taeseong’s skull at that moment. But he couldn’t. Taeseong felt not the slightest trace of fear.
“I will kill you someday.”
“Do your best.”
Taeseong stared at the boy, his thoughts racing.
“Still… What on earth is that thing?”
Taeseong noticed something that had been bothering him ever since he entered the room and began speaking with Dueokshin.
The glimmering crystal embedded in the ghost’s chest.
It looked like a tiny, glowing dot that constantly shimmered. Staring at it caused Taeseong’s heart to resonate strangely, beating as if in response.
He hadn’t noticed it during their first battle in the abandoned hospital. Taeseong didn’t know why he could suddenly see it now, but one thing was certain.
He needed to remove it.
And…
He needed to consume it.
“What… What are you doing all of a sudden…?”
This wasn’t a decision—it was primal instinct.
By the time he realized what was happening, his body had already acted on its own.
“Gaaaahhhh!”
Dueokshin, who hadn’t so much as uttered a sound before, let out an anguished scream, filled with pain. Even though an evil spirit like him wasn’t supposed to feel pain.
“It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!”
The spirit writhed and twisted in torment, his body trembling violently.
“It hurts so muchhhhh!”
But Taeseong didn’t stop. He continued what he was doing, ignoring Dueokshin’s agonized cries. His mind was still rational, but his body was no longer under his control.
All that drove him now was a instinct, unshakable urge: this had to be done.
Taeseong tore the crystal from Dueokshin’s chest. Without hesitation, he brought it to his mouth.
“… …”
Crunch.
The moment his teeth crushed the crystal, Taeseong felt as though his entire body was being consumed by fire. It was as if he’d been thrown into the flames of hell itself. The pain was so agonizing that he doubted even the torments of the underworld could surpass it.
But he didn’t utter a single groan.
Instead, he kept chewing. And when he was done, he swallowed.
Gulp.
And at that instant, countless visions flooded Taeseong’s mind.
Memories.
They were fragments of the memories he’d lost.
A man with a weary, battle-worn face.
Though his features were sharper and darker than now, it was undeniably Taeseong.
Drenched in blood, he ascended a snow-covered mountain, his body weighed down by an arsenal of weapons strapped to his back and waist. He looked like a vengeful spirit or a demon from hell.
“Hah… Hah… This is really getting old.”
The mountain he climbed was the tallest in this world, its slopes blanketed in pristine snow that sparkled blindingly under the sun. The scenery was breathtaking, yet no one in their right mind would dare set foot here.
The mountain was infamous not for its height, but for its danger.
The Demonic Abyss.
That was its other name.
From the base of the mountain to its peak, the slopes teemed with all manner of terrifying creatures. The higher one climbed, the more numerous the monsters became, their strength and ferocity multiplying exponentially.
No human would voluntarily enter this mountain unless they wished for death.
No one—until Taeseong.
“Finally.”
At the summit, Taeseong drew a sword from his waist and swung it into the empty air.
“… …”
Ten seconds passed, and nothing happened. Yet Taeseong remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the space where his sword had struck.
Then it appeared.
The air cracked open along the path of his swing, revealing a colossal gate.
Taeseong had cleaved through the eternal ice that sealed it shut.
With no hesitation, he opened the gate and stepped through.
Step. Step.
The straight path stretched endlessly before him.
How long had he walked?
A day? Two?
Perhaps even longer. But Taeseong had no concept of time.
Eventually, he reached his destination.
The first thing he saw was a massive paw—so enormous it defied belief.
Its sheer size made it hard to believe it was part of a living being. Taeseong briefly doubted if this could even be called a “paw.” It felt more like he was standing before the side of a mountain.
But then he saw the claws.
Each claw was as large as a rocky peak, and upon closer inspection, their nature as claws became unmistakable.
Taeseong tilted his head back to look up. Even then, the creature’s head was too far away to see.
Had it not been bound, this entity would have been impossible for him to even gaze upon like this. Taeseong knew this all too well.
Which is why he understood that he had only one chance.
“Oh ancient wolf, the eldest of your kind…
Please return me to the world I belong to.”
