A fleeting memory flowed into Taeseong’s mind—a glimpse into the final chapter of someone’s life.
“…I see. So that’s what happened.”
Eunha, startled by Taeseong’s abrupt actions, asked in concern.
“Mr. Taeseong? Are you alright?”
“Yes.”
Finally, he understood. Why Mangtae Harabeom was so obsessed with the word Retard. It wasn’t mere stubbornness; it was a trigger that reopened a deep-seated trauma.
“What a tragedy.”
The memory he had just seen clearly belonged to Mangtae Harabeom. The crystal embedded in the old man’s forehead had transferred the memory to him.
‘Not as intense as before, but I can feel vitality surging through my body again. It’s certain—eating these crystals makes me stronger.’
He wasn’t sure how it worked, but he was sure it was beneficial. Still, the lack of significant changes compared to last time suggested there was some criterion determining the crystal’s potency.
‘It must be the grade. The crystal from Mangtae Harabeom’s forehead was far smaller than the one from Dueokshin.’
It was only a hypothesis. There weren’t enough samples to confirm anything yet. For now, he decided to set the matter aside for future investigation. There were more pressing matters at hand.
“You…bad child… Punish you…”
Mangtae Harabeom’s face, filled with fear, was a stark contrast to his previous aggression. Although his trigger had sent him into a frenzy, the overwhelming gap in power left him trembling before Taeseong.
“I didn’t expect your story to be so tragic.”
“…”
“The world is full of trash that can’t even be recycled. You were an old man collecting such garbage.”
Taeseong looked directly into Mangtae Harabeom’s disfigured face and spoke calmly. Having seen the old man’s past, Taeseong no longer found his face monstrous.
“I don’t care about the world’s natural order, nor do I claim to understand it. But personally, I think the world needs someone like you—to ensure there won’t be another Mangtae Harabeom.”
It was heartfelt.
Mangtae Harabeom’s eyes widened as he absorbed those words.
“…Could it be? Did you see my memories?”
“A little.”
The man, who had so far acted like a senile elder, now spoke with a seriousness that suggested his repeated babbling to others was deliberate.
“How… How could you see them?”
“I don’t know.”
“I see… That’s not the important part… Did you see everything? How I lived, and what I endured?”
Taeseong nodded silently.
“Then…you must’ve seen my grandchildren burning in that hellish inferno as well.”
“I did.”
“No matter how much I protest my innocence, it means nothing. My disfigured face brought me nothing but scorn, and so I tried to do good in the hopes of lessening the harm it caused others.”
“It seemed so.”
Mangtae Harabeom’s gaze grew heavy with emotion.
“I never kidnapped children. Just raising my grandchildren was more than enough to keep me busy—why would I even think of taking someone else’s kids?”
“…”
“Yet, that scum accused me, ignored my pleas of innocence, and imposed his delusions on me. And in the end, he burned my grandchildren alive—those children who waited for their grandfather to come home.”
Mangtae Harabeom’s eyes glinted with savage intent.
“My grandchildren were innocent. They were slaughtered solely for being related to me. That man wished for me to feel the pain of losing loved ones, and for that, my grandchildren were reduced to ashes. Not even their bodies remained.”
“…”
“So, I killed him. Tore him limb from limb and stuffed him into this sack. His final words left an impression on me. Do you know what he said?”
Taeseong stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
“‘I’m sorry.’ Turns out, the real kidnapper was caught shortly after. Ha! Hahaha! Isn’t it absurd? Even as I was slicing off his fingers and carving his flesh, he still apologized! Hah! Hahahahaha!”
Mangtae Harabeom laughed like a madman, then stared intensely at Taeseong.
“…If he wanted to apologize, he should’ve done it before my grandchildren were dead. He shouldn’t have started any of it in the first place. What good is an apology now? My grandchildren are gone, their ashes scattered to nothingness. What does his apology change?
Nothing.
So I decided. I’ll fill this sack with all the trash in the world. The next thing I did was find the true kidnapper, the leper.”
His eyes held layers of meaning.
“What should I have done? Forgiven the man who admitted his guilt and repented? Should I have restrained myself, knowing that killing him wouldn’t bring my grandchildren back? Should I have spared the true criminal, who claimed they never meant for this to happen? Tell me, what should I have done?”
A brief silence.
Then Taeseong spoke.
“Trash is trash, no matter what. Dwelling on what’s right or wrong after the fact means nothing. But if it were me, I wouldn’t have done what you did.”
Mangtae Harabeom’s eyes narrowed.
“Then what would you have done?”
“I would’ve captured them alive. Tortured them. Until they begged for death. As long as I drew breath.”
It was an unexpected response.
Eunha, who had been quietly listening, found Taeseong’s calm, matter-of-fact tone far more terrifying than rage or hatred.
“…I see.”
“In matters of good and evil, or what’s right and wrong, I have no intention of arguing. Such concepts don’t interest me. I’m merely saying that if I were in your situation, that’s how I would’ve acted.”
“This is a first. Since I’ve been confined here, I’ve never had this kind of conversation… Not that I’ve had the chance, given no one knew about my past. Regardless of my circumstances, I’m now nothing more than a lowly wraith, feeding off humanity’s fears. To them, I’m just the boogeyman of the old tale, the sack-wielding Mangtae Harabeom who steals naughty children away.”
Taeseong considered speaking up—surely there must have been managers among the organization who could glimpse into the memories or origins of these entities. But he stayed silent. He had a different point to make.
“Claiming to fully understand your feelings from a few stolen memories would be the true insult.”
“…”
“I respect you.”
“…”
“You were simply doing your duty, as a man who collected the filth of this world. Thanks to you, the garbage piling up in this world diminished, if only slightly. Children who heard the stories about you likely obeyed their parents better. And because of you, there may be others who avoided tragedies like your own. Mangtae Harabeom, that is what you are.”
At these words, Mangtae Harabeom gave a bitter smile, his grotesque face trembling slightly.
“Haha… That’s oddly refreshing…”
For the first time since becoming a wraith, someone’s words brought him peace, striking a chord deep within.
‘The fear aimed at me… it’s gone.’
“Thank you. Thanks to you, it feels like the knot in my heart has loosened. If there’s any way I can help, just say the word.”
“Follow the administrators’ instructions. No rampaging. That’s all I ask.”
“…Understood. Should you ever need my help, don’t hesitate to ask.”
Leaving the reflective Mangtae Harabeom behind, Taeseong stood and called out to Eunha, who was still staring blankly at the scene.
“Deputy Manager Lee Eunha.”
“Huh? Oh, yes?”
“Do we have more tasks to complete?”
“Ah, no… I think this is enough…”
“Then let’s go.”
Without waiting for a reply, Taesung turned and headed for the containment room exit. Eunha stared after him, her mind whirring.
‘What… is this guy?’
Countless administrators had overseen Mangtae Harabeom before, but none had ever achieved such a result. Most resorted to brute force or maintaining the status with superficial appeasement. Watching Taeseong’s retreating figure, Eunha had a sudden realization.
This rookie administrator would bring about a major uproar in “The Tree”—for better or worse.
“Wait! Taeseong! Hold on!”
Taeseong and Eunha walked through the corridor on their way back to the Management Team 4 office. Despite wandering the hallway for over ten minutes, not a single word passed between them.
Family.
One by one, faces flashed in Taeseong’s mind. His parents. His younger sister, Sooah.
The memories stirred by Mangtae Harabeom’s crystal weren’t limited to one moment. Among them was a fleeting recollection of an ordinary day with his family before the dimensional shift that had swept him away. Though brief and fragmented, it helped him clearly recall the faces he had almost forgotten.
So this is what they looked like…
A warm, caring middle-aged couple. Their gaze toward him was full of affection.
Taeseong, always remember to eat on time, okay? And can you stop deploying? It makes your mother’s heart race…
Right, you rascal. I know you’re talented, but isn’t it time you settled down and got married?
Oh, honey? Taeseong is amazing because he takes after me, not you!
Listen to this woman. Even with that crooked mouth, she has the audacity to talk! You failed the bar twice, didn’t you?
Their voices overlapped with laughter, the quintessential banter of loving parents.
Marriage? No! Oppa will marry me! Right, Oppa?
A cheerful, bright-eyed young girl. Sooah, his little sister, had always clung to him like glue.
When I grow up, I’m marrying Oppa! Just wait ten years! Okay? Promise!
Haha, Sooah. Why would Oppa marry a little kid like you? And didn’t Dad always say family members can’t get married?
I don’t care! I’m marrying Oppa! Don’t talk to me! Dad’s a big dumb baldhead!
What? Baldhead? Sooah, who taught you that?
Mom said people with no hair are called baldies.
Lost in these cherished memories, Taeseong felt a pang of grief. He would never see that warmth again.
He still couldn’t believe his parents were gone.
He still couldn’t believe the lively girl who had once clung to him was now a fellow administrator in “The Tree.”
What had happened while he was gone?
The vivid memories of his family seemed to restore a piece of his lost emotions.
I need to see Sooah.
His thoughts were interrupted when they reached the Management Team 4 office. Throughout the walk, Eunha had struggled to find the right moment to speak, silenced by Taeseong’s serious demeanor.
Before either could enter, they noticed a man in a similar administrator’s uniform standing awkwardly near the door. Eunha approached him.
“Excuse me, are you with Management Team 4?”
“Ah, no, I’m Yu Gi-jun, from Management Team 3! Are you from Team 4?”
“Yes, I am, but… What’s the matter?”
Her words trailed off as she noticed his expression—a mix of disbelief and shock. But his wide-eyed gaze wasn’t on her. It was fixed on Tae-sung.
The man stammered, his voice trembling.
“C-Captain Lee Taeseong…?”
TL : Mangtae Harabeom is a real-life urban legend in South Korea. He is similar to the Boogeyman. Read about him here
