What had just happened?
Every time he blinked, the heads of his comrades exploded. Brains and blood splattered in every direction.
Splat!
A sticky liquid drenched Taeseong’s face. He raised a hand and wiped the blood off his face. Despite the gruesome scene unfolding before him, his expression remained calm. He simply surveyed his surroundings, as if trying to grasp the situation.
The bodies of his comrades, their heads crushed like deflated balloons, collapsed limply to the floor.
Taeseong was the sole survivor.
Well, if the boy with the split mouth could be considered a survivor, then there were technically two. Whatever the boy truly was, he certainly wasn’t human.
“The team leader said he was a Delta-level operative,” Taeseong recalled.
If something had managed to crush the team leader’s head in an instant, it was safe to assume it wielded power well beyond that level.
He knew the recon team wasn’t made up of combat specialists. But there was no time to dwell on the nuances.
Taeseong quickly drew his pistol and, without a moment’s hesitation, pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The bullet tore through the boy’s head.
For any normal human, that would have been the end. But the boy, who was clearly far from human, remained completely unscathed.
He turned to Taeseong, still grinning, as if to mock the attack.
“…”
Realizing the gun was useless, Taeseong discarded it without hesitation.
Instead, he unsheathed two daggers from his belt, holding one in each hand.
Tap-tap-tap!
Before his mind could issue the order, his body moved instinctively, executing the most efficient course of action for the situation.
He sprinted forward, closing the distance in a heartbeat, and leapt into the air. With a fluid motion, he aimed a kick at the boy’s head.
Taeseong’s movements were clean, precise, and impossibly efficient—far beyond what one might expect from someone suffering from amnesia.
“…”
Though the kick seemed to land squarely, Taeseong felt as if he’d struck empty air.
“Physical attacks don’t work either?”
But it wasn’t over yet. Determined to continue his assault, Taeseong moved to slash with his daggers.
Before he could strike, his body was suddenly flung backward.
It felt as though he’d been hit by an invisible force, like a car crashing into him.
He twisted midair, landing in a controlled roll and coming to a crouch.
“An unseen force…?”
Pain flared in his side, a dull ache from the impact.
On top of everything else, Taeseong now knew the boy—or rather, the creature in the form of a boy—could manipulate some kind of invisible power.
Yet even in the face of this dire situation, Taeseong remained unshaken. He didn’t falter, only analyzed. He focused on one question: How can I defeat it?
Steadying his breath, Taeseong gripped his daggers tighter. A faint blue aura began to ripple from the blades.
The boy, still smiling, tilted his head slightly, his expression subtly changing to one of curiosity.
“…Why are you still fine?”
For the first time, the boy spoke, his tone mixed with confusion.
The meaning behind his question was clear:
All the others died instantly. So why is your head still intact?
The boy couldn’t comprehend it. In his long existence, he had never encountered someone immune to his abilities.
…Or had he?
Now that he thought about it, there was one faint, distant memory.
“There was a thief… a self-proclaimed vigilante from Joseon…”
Before he could delve deeper into that memory, it happened.
Slice!
The boy’s right arm was severed, disintegrating into black smoke before it could hit the ground.
“How…?”
For the first time, there was genuine surprise in the boy’s voice.
And then, the memory clicked.
The vigilante had been like this one. Despite his power, he couldn’t crush the man’s head, no matter how hard he tried. That man had easily severed his limbs and then warned him:
“Pitiful demon who feeds on human fear. Today, I grant you mercy and let you live. But mark my words: if I hear that you’ve harmed humans again, I will obliterate you entirely. Do you understand?”
Now the boy understood.
Why his power didn’t work on Taeseong.
Why he felt a sense of déjà vu.
“You…” The boy’s voice trembled. “You don’t fear me, do you?”
Taeseong remained silent, his expression cold and calculating.
The boy’s words weren’t wrong. Taeseong didn’t fear him—or anything else.
Fear, for most, comes from the unknown. Fear of death? It’s the uncertainty of what lies beyond that terrifies people. Fear of ghosts? It’s the lack of understanding of what they are and why they exist.
But Taeseong was different.
He didn’t fear death.
Was it because of his amnesia?
Could forgetting erase even the primal instinct of survival?
The answer to that question was something only Taeseong himself knew.
“Why does that matter to you?” Taeseong finally spoke, his tone sharp and dismissive.
Even as he spoke, he was calculating his next move. Whatever this creature was, its curiosity was irrelevant.
The only thing that mattered was killing it.
Because Taeseong still had unfinished business in this world.
And now was the moment to strike.
Taeseong seized the opportunity, exploiting an opening and moving forward. His movements were so swift that an ordinary human couldn’t even track them with their eyes. The keen edge of his blade sliced through the boy’s shoulder.
Then his other arm.
His chest.
His side.
His legs.
Strike after relentless strike rained down, the glowing blue aura of his sword tracing arcs through the air. With every cut to the boy’s body, a black, smoke-like vapor surge out.
“……”
Time blurred as the assault continued.
Eventually, the boy’s body, once formidable, had shrunk to resemble that of a child barely four or five years old.
“Why… do you not fear me?” the boy asked, his voice tinged with confusion.
Taeseong gazed at the diminished figure, his face blank and emotionless.
‘Even after piercing the heart or severing the neck, it won’t die.’
Realizing that no amount of cutting would end it, Taeseong turned and approached the body of his late team leader, Choi Han-seong. Kneeling, he searched through Han-seong’s belongings.
‘As I thought, he had it.’
Han-seong who was eager for recogniztion had carried the device Taeseong sought—restraints designed specifically for containing such entities.
These restraints were not ordinary. Taeseong knew their effectiveness firsthand, having once worn them himself as a temporary containment subject.
Carrying them back, he placed the restraints on the boy. For whatever reason—whether it was the damage from the fight or a resigned acceptance—the boy did not resist.
‘Better safe than sorry.’
Still wary, Taeseong made a quick decision. He plunged his sword into the boy’s head.
Thunk!
Restraints or not, the creature was an unknown variable. Its inability to die was proven; thus, rendering it as powerless as possible was the best course of action.
‘It doesn’t even seem to feel pain.’
Not that it mattered to Taeseong whether it did or not.
“Now, what to do about this thing…”
As he considered his options, Taeseong suddenly thought of Ho-jin, who was waiting back in the vehicle.
“Contacting the company is probably the best move,” he muttered.
With the boy in tow, Taeseong dragged him back to the vehicle, explained the situation to Ho-jin, and provided a summary to the organization, Tree.
Before long, administrators and cleanup crews dispatched by Tree arrived. While the cleanup team handled the bodies and aftermath, the administrators escorted Taeseong, Ho-jin, and the restrained “Head-Crushing Boy (provisional)” back to headquarters.
Operation: Abandoned Hospital Sweep
Search Team 2
Total Members: 15
Casualties: 13
Survivors: 2
Upon returning to headquarters, Taeseong had a brief conversation with Choi Harin before heading to the temporary containment room.
“…Sigh. Taeseong, I’ve got so many questions for you that I could probably fill a mountain, but unfortunately, we’re short on time right now. So let’s save the detailed talk for later. For now, I need you to handle that unidentified entity you brought in.”
“Isn’t that a job for the management team?”
“It is… Normally, yes. And believe me, I wouldn’t want to ask you to do this, but we don’t have much of a choice. No one else can deal with it. The upper-level administrators are swamped with their own issues, and if we send in Delta-grade managers, they’ll just get their heads crushed like before…”
“Like before?”
“Yeah… Two Delta-grade managers already went into the containment room and got killed. Their heads were destroyed, just like you reported. Based on what we’ve pieced together, it’s probably a type of vengeful spirit (akgwi), but there’s so little we know about it. If we send anyone else, it’ll just be a waste of lives… You’re the only one who fought it and came back unharmed. Please, just this once, help us out, okay?”
“…Fine. I’ll go. What do you need me to do once I’m there?”
“Not much. Just talk to it, like Haeyoung did with you when you were in temporary containment. And if you can, gather some information about it.”
Arriving at Containment Room E-12, Taeseong hesitated outside the door.
‘The restraints should be on it, so how did those managers still end up dead? Then again, why am I still alive when the others weren’t?’
He reached for the door, but it opened on its own, and a figure stepped out—a person in full protective gear carrying a large bag slung over their shoulder.
“A cleaner?”
The cleaner gave a small nod, and Taeseong returned the gesture before stepping inside.
‘Wait… Why was that cleaner unharmed?’
The thought lingered in his mind, but he decided to focus on the task at hand. Taking the seat where Haeyoung had once sat during his own containment, he found himself overcome with an odd sense of déjà vu.
“Another human has come… Wait, it’s you.”
“Yes, it’s me.”
The boy was now fully restrained, his every movement bound. Taeseong stared at him for a moment before speaking bluntly.
“What are you?”
“…I don’t know. The only thing I know is that I was brought into existence by you humans.”
“Do you have a name?”
“A name? Are you referring to what humans called me?”
“Yes. Anything you can remember. Speak.”
After a pause, the boy finally answered.
“Dueokshin.”
The name was unfamiliar, but a deep sense of unease crept over Taeseong.
“That is what humans called me.”
