“……”
“Senior?”
Ho-jin froze in place like a statue at the sight of the hanging teammates. His pupils trembled faintly.
Drip. Drip.
The blood dripping without pause mocked him, staining the floor in a deep crimson.
“Young-chul… Pil-s0… What the hell happened? Why are you like this…?”
Their heads had been crushed beyond recognition.
However, their uniforms and the radios scattered on the floor made it clear who they were.
“Senior, I’ll report this to the team leader immediately.”
Despite Taeseong’s words, Ho-jin didn’t respond. No, it was more accurate to say he couldn’t respond.
Although the situation was horrifying, reporting it took priority, so Taeseong contacted the team leader.
“Guys… You were talking about a welcome dinner for the rookie, weren’t you? Pil-so, weren’t you getting married next year…? Why, why did it end up like this…?”
As a member of “Tree,” Ho-jin knew that losing comrades was an inevitable reality of their line of work. He also understood that the next one to die could just as easily be him.
But knowing and experiencing it firsthand were completely different matters.
The scouting team under the intelligence department was tasked with identifying, investigating, and discovering strange occurrences across the country. While their missions carried risks, fatal outcomes were rare compared to other departments directly managing entities.
Yet, seeing his comrades’ deaths in such an inexplicable, grotesque manner was a shock that Ho-jin wasn’t prepared for.
“Ugh!”
Unable to suppress the nausea, he began to vomit.
As he struggled, the team leader, Choi Han-seong, and the other team members arrived, one by one.
Their reactions were not much different from Ho-jin’s, except Han-seong, who remained unusually composed.
“Ah, shit… What the hell is going on…?”
“T-T-Team leader… Young-cheol and Pil-so…”
“I knew something was off with those two, fooling around earlier. I just didn’t expect this…”
“Rookie, did you report this immediately after finding it?”
“Yes.”
Han-seong walked through the group and crouched to inspect the blood pooling on the floor. His gaze shifted to the bodies hanging from the ceiling.
The corpses were mixed, regardless of gender or age, all with the same crushed heads and suspended like bats.
Even more bizarre was the ceiling itself.
They weren’t tied or hooked; it was as if their feet were glued directly to the surface. There was no visible mechanism or support holding them there.
After taking in the scene, Han-seong muttered bitterly, “First, we need to recover the bodies.”
Continuing the operation or not, leaving their comrades like that was unacceptable.
Two team members tried to pull Young-cheol and Pil-so’s bodies down from the ceiling, but no matter how much strength they used, they wouldn’t budge.
Even with their superhuman strength, far beyond an average adult man, the bodies remained stuck.
Eventually, Han-seong intervened personally, and only then were the bodies freed.
“What’s the plan now, Team Leader?” one of the members asked.
“Shouldn’t we just abort the operation and head back to HQ?”
Taeseong scanned the faces of the team members.
Excluding Han-seong, most looked pale, their expressions a mixture of fear and shock.
The death of comrades they’d worked alongside for years—under circumstances both gruesome and inexplicable—was enough to send the team into panic.
I understand, but their mental resilience is too weak. Continuing the mission in this state would be pointless.
Finally, Han-seong spoke up.
“The operation continues.”
“Team Leader! Young-cheol and Pil-so are dead, and you’re saying we keep going?”
“And what do you propose we do instead?”
“……What?”
“I said, what’s your alternative? Did you join this organization thinking no one would ever die? Or that the risks didn’t apply to you because we’re in one of the safer departments? Did you think you could get by without putting in any real effort forever?”
“That’s not what I meant…”
The protest trailed off.
Because, deep down, that’s exactly what they had come to believe over time.
“You’re not the only one grieving Young-cheol and Pil-so’s deaths. I’m just as angry and terrified as the rest of you, to the point where I want to run out of here right now. But I have a responsibility to keep going.”
Han-seong’s gaze bore into each team member.
“Young-cheol and Pil-so’s deaths prove something is happening here. It could be the work of an unidentified entity from a rift. If we abandon the mission now and it causes harm, who will answer for it? If lives are lost because we didn’t act, how will you live with yourselves? Especially when there’s a village just downhill from here.”
The room fell silent.
Han-seong’s voice was steady and resolute.
“None of you signed up for this job without knowing the risks. This isn’t about being a hero or a martyr; it’s about doing the job we chose to do. If you can’t handle that, you can leave. But as long as you’re here, remember this: our work ensures the safety of others. If we fail, innocent people—perhaps your own family or friends—will pay the price.”
“…Understood, Team Leader.”
Taeseong observed the scene quietly.
He hadn’t expected Han-seong to demonstrate this level of leadership, especially under such dire circumstances.
He’s surprisingly capable in situations like this.
While the others seemed inspired by the speech, Taeseong remained skeptical. To him, Han-seong’s words felt more like a cover for ulterior motives.
Why is he so adamant about continuing? Is it really just responsibility?
Fragments of overheard conversations between Ho-jin and Han-seong replayed in Tae-seong’s mind.
—With solid results, that damn woman won’t be able to mess with me anymore.
—Once you climb the ranks, it’ll be smooth sailing. I’ll support you all the way, Team Leader.
Perhaps my gut feeling is right… But it changes nothing. He’s still the leader.
“Kim Ho-jin! Kim Ho-jin!”
“…Yes?”
“Snap out of it! How long are you going to act like this?”
“S-Sorry.”
Ho-jin’s pale face and trembling hands betrayed his fragile state.
With a sigh, Han-seong shook his head.
“This won’t do. You, recover the bodies and stay with the vehicle.”
“N-No, I’ll continue the search!”
“Search? Look at yourself. You’re in no state to do anything. Just follow orders and wait in the car. Someone needs to transport the bodies anyway.”
“…Understood.”
Ho-jin glanced back at Taeseong with a worried expression, but Taeseong merely nodded slightly in acknowledgment.
“That guy’s great at everything, except his fragile mental state,” the team leader murmured with regret once Ho-jin had moved out of earshot.
“Alright! Let’s resume the search. If anyone has objections, speak up now!”
“No objections, sir!” the team shouted in unison.
Taeseong regrouped with the team leader, and together they scoured every corner of the second floor. Despite an hour of meticulous searching, they found nothing of significance. Now, only the third floor and the rooftop remained unexplored.
Before proceeding, Han-seong sent a radio message to the sub-team searching the first floor.
Static crackled.
[Sub-leader, any findings?]
The team held their breath, awaiting a response. The horrific events from earlier had left them all on edge.
Static crackled again.
[We found some documents related to this hospital, but nothing else noteworthy.]
Relief swept through the group, and they exhaled collectively.
[Understood. Continue searching a little longer. If there’s nothing further, regroup with us. We’re heading to the third floor. Report immediately if anything comes up.]
[Understood, sir.]
Han-seong ended the communication, and the team cautiously moved to the third floor. This time, instead of splitting up, they moved together, vigilantly checking every direction.
The heavy atmosphere was noticeable, suppressing any unnecessary chatter. As a result, the silence on the third floor was almost suffocating, broken only by the sound of their careful footsteps and shallow breaths.
Time passed, and the sub-team from the first floor eventually joined them.
“Team Leader, only the rooftop remains now.”
Han-seong nodded silently. The third floor was surprisingly clean compared to the others—no graffiti on the walls, hardly any trash, and no signs of disturbance.
“We’re heading to the rooftop now. Stay sharp and be prepared for anything.”
Aside from Taeseong, the rest of the team looked visibly tense.
With Han-seong leading, the team climbed the stairs cautiously.
Thud. Thud.
When they reached the rooftop, they found the door already open.
Han-seong froze in place at the entrance.
“Stop.”
At that single word, everyone halted immediately.
In the weighty silence that followed, the only sound was the pounding of their own hearts, drumming against their ribcages like a panicked beat.
“…Unidentified entity spotted ahead,” Han-seong said, his voice low.
At the far end of the rooftop stood a figure resembling a child, their back turned toward the team.
The team tensed, fingers instinctively moving to their triggers.
“It’s… a child?” the sub-leader muttered, his voice filled with disbelief.
Looking closer, they saw it was indeed a boy, likely no older than a fourth or fifth grader, standing motionless and gazing outwards.
As the realization dawned on them, murmurs broke out among the team.
“It’s just a kid. Put your guns down, everyone.”
“Are you insane? Look around you! Does this seem like the kind of place a normal kid would be? Especially one this young?”
“Y-yeah, but what if he’s just a kid who wandered in here playing around?”
“Team Leader, what’s the plan?”
Ultimately, the decision rested with Han-seong.
There’s no way a kid in a place like this could be normal. This is definitely an unidentified entity, Han-seong thought. The question now was whether to retreat or attempt to capture “it.”
If he could secure this entity and deliver it to headquarters, the rewards would be massive—possibly even a transfer to the management division.
Han-seong made his decision.
Approach first and assess the situation. If things go south, buy time for the others to retreat.
He had prepared for situations like this, even packing a special restraint device for entities.
“Team Leader?”
Ignoring his subordinates’ protests, Han-seong began walking toward the boy, every sense on high alert for any potential threat.
“Hey, kid,” Han-seong called gently.
“…”
The boy remained silent, his back still facing them.
“Kid, how’d you get up here? Where are your parents?”
“…”
No response.
Han-seong’s grip on his weapon tightened. His gut told him this wasn’t human, but he kept probing for any signs of communication.
“Kid, I’m not here to hurt y—”
Suddenly, the boy’s head twisted around—an unnatural 180 degrees—to face Han-seong.
Human body could never achieve such a movement.
The boy grinned, his mouth stretching unnaturally wide, the corners splitting all the way to his ears.
“…Found you.”
CRACK!
Han-seong’s skull shattered instantly.
“Team Leader!”
Before anyone could react, the sub-leader and the teammate next to him met the same fate.
“Wh-what the hell is—”
One by one, the rest of the team’s heads exploded, leaving no time for screams or resistance.
