Category: A doomsday-level returnee devours calamities

Lee Taeseong lifted his head and looked at the Eight Footed Ghost.

The Eight Footed Ghost also did not avert her gaze and stared straight into Lee Taeseong’s crimson eyes.

“……”

“……”

Their eyes locked.

The reason Lee Taeseong deliberately raised his head to look at her was simple.

He wanted to discern the true meaning behind her words just now.

What intent lay hidden in those words?

Could she be trying to use him to escape the containment chamber?

Despite what she said, could she secretly harbour resentment toward the Tree?

Regardless of what the Eight Footed Ghost thought of Lee Taeseong, from his perspective, she was merely a subject.

To add a bit more detail, she was a subject toward whom he harboured the slightest bit of goodwill.

“Do you want to leave this place?”

The Eight-Spans Ghost shook her head.

“Then?”

It’s not that I want to leave the containment chamber.

I want to be by your side.

I want to be with you.

I want to be of help to you.

“Why would you go so far?”

The Eight Footed Ghost paused.

She was carefully choosing her words.

To be honest, Lee Taeseong couldn’t understand the current situation.

He had indeed brought her here, but he had no idea why she was showing him such strong goodwill.

Suddenly, he remembered a time when they spoke and her cheeks had been faintly flushed.

Taeseong shook his head.

‘…No, that can’t be it.’

He had met many people since coming here.

But that feeling he had the first time he saw her—

He hadn’t felt it since.

He didn’t even know what this emotion he was feeling was.

But his instincts wanted it.

To stay by her side.

To repay the kindness he had received.

He wouldn’t mind dying for her sake.

He only wanted to become her god.

Lee Taeseong spoke calmly.

“In principle, it’s impossible.”

At those words, the Eight Footed Ghost visibly withdrew. Her face was filled with disappointment.

Though she had gathered the courage to speak, she had no intention of whining.

“Normally, that is.”

“Po po?”

“Very well. Designation: Eight Footed Ghost. Class: Gamma. Green-grade protected entity. From this moment on, this entity is reclassified as a Specially Managed Subject.

As the leader of Management Team 0, I will personally take charge of your oversight.”

“Po po!”

“Yes. I mean it.”

There were several reasons why Lee Taeseong accepted her proposal, but what intrigued him most was her divine nature.

When he heard that the affection of administrators had become a kind of faith that allowed her to regain her divinity, he realized that with the right approach, she could become a powerful asset.

Even if she was a low-tier deity, she was still a god.

If he could gather more faith, her potential strength could grow to levels beyond comparison.

In a world where Earth’s end was certain, having a subject with limitless growth potential in his ranks would be of immense help going forward.

And if she had ulterior motives, Lee Taeseong could eliminate her himself.

When he waved his hand through the air, a spatial rift appeared, revealing a subspace.

“Stay here.”

“Po po!?”

“It can’t be helped. You chose to follow me, so you’ll have to bear at least this much, right? Well, I’m not saying you have to stay here forever. You can return to this containment chamber from time to time when we come back to the Tree. And if you want, I’ll even decorate the subspace for you. Would a landscape like this one suit you?”

The Eight Footed Ghost nodded enthusiastically.

From the bright smile on her face, it was clear she liked the idea.

“Po po!”

Now that he thought of it, he had never considered whether the interior of a subspace could be decorated.

‘Since it came up, maybe I should try it.’

Taeseong opened the subspace.

The space, like a compressed universe, was cloaked in thick darkness that hung like a curtain.

Tiny stars sparkled intermittently in the sky above.

Time had long ceased to flow here.

Because the subspace was connected to the stomach of the Primordial Wolf, no living creature could survive here.

Taeseong closed his eyes and recalled the beautiful scenery from the containment chamber.

Slowly, the surroundings began to transform into a grassy plain like the one inside the containment room.

Although the area was limited, within that boundary, he succeeded in perfectly recreating the scenery.

“It’s a success.”

The Eight Footed Ghost, gazing at the new divine shrine, jumped for joy.

“Popopopo!”

“It’s your new home.”

---

After leaving the G-44 containment chamber, Taeseong headed straight to Building E.

He was going to meet Mangtae Harabeom  and Hong Kong Grandma.

They were the very subjects he had managed during his first field assignment as an administrator.

“Epsilon grade, huh…”

Every time he passed through the hallway, the Epsilon-grade administrators he encountered flinched in surprise.

“L-Lee Taeseong Administrator…”

“Ah, hello…”

Some looked at him with reverence, others with outright fear, and some with admiration.

Most of them didn’t even dare to speak to him.

Once an Epsilon-grade administrator himself, Taeseong could now clearly feel the weight of being the leader of the Special Management Team.

When he opened the containment room door and stepped inside, the familiar sight of a traditional Korean hanok greeted him.

“Still the same.”

Step, step.

Sensing Taeseong’s demonic energy, Hong Kong Grandma suddenly had a fit.

“Eeeek! I’m scared! So, so scared! Someone scarier than the Elder is here! I’m really scared!”

Mangtae Harabeom, who had reacted similarly at first, calmed her down once he recognized Taeseong.

“It’s fine. It’s okay. He’s someone we know.”

“Someone we know? Not a scary elder?”

“No. He’s an administrator.”

Hong Kong Grandma slowly lifted her head to look at Taeseong.

And then had another fit.

“Eeeeeek! How is that an administrator!? He’s too scary! Too scary! I was wrong! Don’t take me away!”

She hid completely behind Mangtae Harabeom, hugging her knees and burying her face.

“That bad, huh…”

Mangtae Harabeom grinned and said,

“That’s about right. You’ve gotten unbelievably strong since I last saw you. Honestly, I almost pissed myself at first. When a being suddenly bursts in, radiating immense energy like that, I thought a Beta-grade entity had escaped.”

Taeseong sat down beside Mangtae Harabeom and opened his mouth.

“I’ll need to suppress my energy more.”

Even with the ring on, he didn’t expect to instill this much fear.

Taeseong withdrew all the energy he was emitting.

Only then did the Hong Kong Granny cautiously peek out and look at him.

“Administrator Lee Taeseong! Elder, meow! Good to see you, meow!”

“Yeah. Good to see you too.”

When Taeseong opened a subspace, the Eight Footed Ghost appeared.

“Popo!”

The Hong Kong Grandma, who had been hiding behind Mangtae Harabeom, took interest in her. The Eight Footed Ghost smiled kindly and signalled to the granny, and before long, the granny had placed her head on the ghost’s lap, purring softly.

“Po po!”

Taeseong, watching the two of them, turned his head and looked at Mangtae Harabeom.

“Old man. Have you been well?”

Mangtae Harabeom nodded.

“Of course. I’ve been doing fine in my own way. But more than that, I’m curious about you. What in the world happened for you to become a different person? Even back then, your energy felt unusual, but now…”

Gulp. Mangtae Harabeom swallowed.

He didn’t show it outwardly, but he too felt fear toward Taeseong.

And Taeseong knew that very well. After all, a black skull was floating above both their heads.

“You seem like a completely different being.”

“A lot happened. I recovered my memories of the past… and I reunited with my family.”

At the word ‘family’, Mangtae Grandpa reacted. A bitter expression briefly passed over his face. Without realizing it, he had thought of his grandchildren, now in heaven.

“You must mean that girl. She was such a cute and spirited child. She bragged about her older brother so much it nearly made my ears fall off.”

“…Sooah talked about me?”

Mangtae Harabeom chuckled.

“More than just once or twice. Every time she came here for admin work, she talked about you every day. I could probably recite what you did at the Japan branch to save her even with my eyes closed now.”

“…She said a lot of unnecessary things.”

Though he said that, Taeseong was inwardly pleased. Though they were blood-related, the long separation had built an invisible wall between them.

Knowing that it was his role as an older brother to break that wall down, Taeseong had been trying to slowly close the distance—and then he happened to hear this.

“It’s written all over your face. It’s nice to see. In the end, the only ones you can rely on in this world are family. They say blood is thicker than water. I hope you two stay close from now on.”

“You too… Don’t get into trouble. Don’t make enemies among the administrators. And if anything happens, use my name. I’m not an Epsilon-grade admin anymore—I’m Beta now.”

“Hahaha! Much appreciated!”

“Then I’ll see you later.”

“Take care now.”

The Hong Kong Grandma stuck her head out and waved.

“Scary elder! Tall lady! Farewell, meow!”

---

Two days later.

While commuting to Tree, Taeseong received a call. The caller was Team Leader Choi Harin from Intelligence Team 2.

“Hello.”

—Team Leader, this is Choi Harin.

“I know.”

—It’s nothing big, but I thought you should be informed of this.

“What is it?”

—This time, the U.S. branch requested we transfer some entities due to quarantine room overcrowding.

“Entity transfer?”

—Yes. The shipment includes everything from Delta-grade to Beta-grade entities, and our administrators were assigned to handle it.

“And?”

—There’s been an incident. It turns out there was an entity on the ship posing as an administrator.

Taeseong asked, dumbfounded,

“An entity pretending to be an admin? Are you saying Tree couldn’t even tell it apart?”

—Apparently… the entity has mental manipulation abilities. And its estimated grade is Beta…

“Fantastic job, as usual.”

—As a result, some of the quarantined entities escaped. And unfortunately, the ones assigned to this task were Assistant Manager Lee Eunha and Section Chief Go Young-hee.

A hint of irritation entered Taeseong’s tone.

“Assistant Manager Lee Eunha and Section Chief Go Young-hee? Aren’t they both Delta-grade? Why were Delta-grade admins assigned to this level of transfer operation?”

—Both of them volunteered in pursuit of a Gamma-grade promotion… So anyway, we’re in a situation where we’ll need to dispatch support forces from our side as well…

“No need.”

—Excuse me?

“No support needed.”

—Then…

“I’ll go myself. This entity transfer operation will be handled by the Special Management Team.”

【Entity Transfer Support Operation Report】

Assigned Team: Special Management Team.

Total Members: 1.

Total Personnel Dispatched: 1.

Team Leader: Lee Taeseong.

Grade: Sigma.

Taeseong, walking down the hallway, glanced at the ring on his finger.

“……”

To put it simply, the devouring had been a success. The ring on his index finger was proof of that.

Of course, he’d had to endure three hours of pain unlike anything he’d ever experienced before to obtain it.

Still, he had succeeded in acquiring the “Restraint.”

The ring on his index finger was something Taeseong had created himself. He figured a physical medium would be necessary to manipulate the restraint freely, so he decided to shape it into a ring, just like the original.

“I really almost died…”

He had felt Orochi’s regenerative ability reaching its limit and had barely managed to suppress the final explosion by squeezing out every last bit of energy in his body. Had he made even the slightest mistake in the process, he wouldn’t be walking around in one piece right now.

Taeseong now realized, more than ever, why Alpha-grade entities were classified as such.

“More than I expected…”

Still, he was satisfied.

The restraint he had placed on himself was simple.

Half of the power he possessed.

In other words, he sealed away 50% of his strength.

Taeseong lightly thrust his fist forward.

Boom!

With a sound that tore through the air, the entire hallway vibrated. He then tried drawing up his inner energy. Unlike usual, it felt blocked—tightened. The restraint was working perfectly.

‘My total usable power, including physical capabilities, has been reduced to exactly half.’

Unless he took the ring off, he would only be able to use half of his original power. Even so, Taeseong was confident he could still take on Beta-grade entities with ease.

That was partly due to how overwhelming his original power had been, but more than that, Taeseong’s understanding of martial combat had reached the level of mastery.

Though his physical power had been halved, his innate combat skills and intuition remained unchanged.

When it came to the concept of ‘battle’ or ‘killing,’ Taeseong continued to grow, even without the power of Devour. He had possessed this talent since his days in the military.

His record spoke for itself.

Step. Step.

Even now, he could feel the ring on his finger greedily draining his life force.

But that was fine—he could simply replenish it through devouring. As time went on, the power stored in the ring would increase exponentially, and Taeseong was fully confident that the restriction he had placed on himself would shine brightest in critical moments.

‘If I grow stronger, I might consider placing an even stricter restriction next time.’

The stricter the restriction conditions, the more power the ring would accumulate.

If he had sealed away 90% of his power instead of 50%, the ring would have gathered an incomparably greater amount of energy.

‘High risk, high return, indeed.’

It was like gambling.

You had to take great risks and bet big to win big.

Of course, Taeseong didn’t particularly like gambling.

Money should be earned honestly.

Taeseong pulled out his phone from his pocket and made a call.

—Hello?

“Choi Harin.”

—Yes, Team Leader.

“You knew I was a Sigma-grade, didn’t you?”

—……

“Answer me.”

—Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t keep it from you on purpose. It was an order from above, so I had no choi—

Taeseong cut her off.

“Choi Harin.”

—…Yes.

“I won’t hold you accountable for everything that’s happened so far. I’m sure you had your own reasons.”

—…Thank you.

“But if you ever lie to me again, even a little…”

—……

“I’ll handle it in my own way.”

—……I understand.

With that, Taeseong ended the call.

---

The place Taeseong arrived at was Building G.

This was where Gamma-grade entities were kept in isolation. Originally, the entity Eight Footed Ghost had been classified as Delta, but she’d recently regained her strength and was upgraded to Gamma-grade.

Given that she was never just a lowly yokai but once a guardian deity of a village, it was understandable… but—

“She regained her power through the faith of the administrators? What the hell kind of bullshit is that?”

The report was absurd.

The administrators assigned to manage the Eight Footed Ghost hadn’t been doing their jobs. Instead, they’d become obsessed with her and even formed a fan club in the end.

Fortunately, she was classified as a protective-grade entity, so it didn’t pose a huge problem. But Taeseong still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

He shifted his gaze to the observation records at the bottom of the Eight Footed Ghost’s management report.

…

[Observation Log #012]
The Eight-Spanned Ghost is a god. I am her believer.
Her cuteness will save the world.
Ah! Hojokami forever! Long live the Eight Footed Ghost!

[Observation Log #014]
Hearing her story brought tears to my eyes.
I lost my mother at a young age and never truly experienced maternal love…
But through her, I finally understand what a mother’s love is.
From now on, I shall serve the Eight Footed Ghost as my mother!
I love you, Mother.

[Observation Log #016]
Those punks at the Japan branch!
You were going to eliminate such an adorable entity!?
That’s a national—no, global—loss!
This entity needs the highest level of protective measures!
If you disagree, I’ll consider you an Epsilon-grade administrator!

[Observation Log #022]
Po. Po. Po. Po. Po.
(Means: I love the Eight Footed Ghost.)

[Observation Log #023]
Po. Po. Po.
(Means: The Eight Footed Ghost is too cute.)

[Observation Log #042]
Hey. You f**king bastards.
Is this how you do your job? What team are you even from?
If you keep this up, I’ll report you to your team leader, I swea—
Po. Po. Po. Po.
(Means: The Eight Footed Ghost is the best.)

…

Taeseong folded the report and scowled.

“What the hell…”

They were complete fanatics.

Apparently, their fanatical love had been treated as a form of “faith,” allowing her to recover her lost divinity. The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. He let out a scoff.

As he walked down the hallway, the administrators greeted him politely.

“Ah, hello! Team Leader Lee Taeseong!”

“It’s an honor to meet you, Team Leader! Someday, I’d love to join your Zero Management Team. Oh—my name’s Kim Cheolmin!”

“Thank you for your hard work, Team Leader!”

Taeseong simply nodded in acknowledgment instead of responding.

Before long, he arrived in front of Isolation Room G-44.

Taeseong opened the door to the Isolation Room and stepped inside.

Whoooosh!

A cool breeze blew past him.

He stood still for a moment, taking in the breathtaking scenery before his eyes.

A vast green plain stretched endlessly into the horizon. Each time the wind blew, the tall blades of grass swayed in a gentle, soothing dance.

“I didn’t expect it to be like this.”

He hadn’t thought they would go to such lengths for a specimen from Japan.

In the distance stood a grand shrine—far more refined than the old, worn-down one he had seen in her memories.

Taeseong began walking toward it.

Step. Step.

“It’s been a while.”

The towering woman who had been sitting on the steps gazing at the sky jumped in surprise.

“Po-po-po!”

“It’s me.”

With her long black hair cascading down to her waist, her pale white skin, pure white dress, and wide-brimmed white hat, the woman was none other than the Hachishaku-sama (Eight-footed Ghost).

Once she realized it was Taeseong, she let out a breath of relief and placed a hand over her chest.

“Po… po…”

The reason she was so startled was simple.

Even with half his power sealed, the energy radiating from Taeseong was so intense that at first, she had mistaken him for a great yokai who had devoured an entire nation—not a mere administrator.

Taeseong sat down beside her on the steps.

“Have you been well?”

The Eight-footed Ghost beamed and nodded repeatedly. It was clear she was quite satisfied with her life here.

“That’s good to hear.”

“……”

Then, she suddenly fell silent.

Her expression uneasy, she struggled to open her mouth. Slowly, with visible effort, she began to speak, each word pronounced with painstaking care.

“Lee… Tae… Seong…”

Her pronunciation was clumsy, like that of a child just learning to speak, but it was obvious how hard she had worked to say those words.

Still smiling brightly, she looked into Taeseong’s eyes and continued.

“Tha…nk… you…”

Startled, Taeseong asked,

“You… learned to speak?”

The Hachishaku-sama nodded proudly, then took his hand and began tracing letters on his palm, just as she had when they first communicated.

Your sister.
Lee Sooah taught me.
She is kind.
You are kind too.
I wanted to say thank you.
I’m clumsy, but…
Just this once…
I wanted to say it properly with my own mouth.
You are my saviour.
Thank you.
Lee Taeseong.

“……”

Even Taeseong was taken aback this time. He hadn’t expected anything like this. She had learned to speak just to express her gratitude to him. And the one who taught her had been none other than his younger sister.

‘Was what I did really worth that much gratitude…?’

Taeseong looked over at her again.

Unlike their first encounter, she was now brimming with life. The energy she gave off was no longer that of a yokai—it was warm, almost divine, like that of a guardian deity.

‘Even the aura she emits feels completely different now.’

When their eyes met, the Eight-footed Ghost smiled brightly.

‘So this is why Sooah insisted I visit her…’

Taeseong spoke calmly.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well. Are you uncomfortable in any way?”

“Po-po-po!”

No, not at all!

“Sorry I came late. I had a lot of things to take care of.”

“Po. Po. Po.”

It’s okay.

“I’m relieved you’ve adjusted well. I’ll come again soon. Until then, stay out of trouble.”

With that, Taeseong stood up.

At that moment—

The Eight-footed Ghost urgently grabbed the edge of his coat. Taeseong turned his head and asked,

“What is it? Do you have something to say?”

She didn’t speak immediately. He noticed her pale white hand trembling slightly.

“It’s alright. You can tell me.”

Instead of leaving, Taeseong sat back down, waiting patiently for her to speak.

The Eight-footed Ghost slowly began tracing letters into his palm once more.

Don’t go.

“You’re telling me to stay here?”

She shook her head.

“Po-po.”

Life here…
Was very nice.
The managers here…
Were all kind.
And sweet.

“……”

But…
I came here because of you.
I chose this because I wanted to be near you.
I…
Lee Taeseong…
I want to be with you.
Please, take me with you.

[A-Rank Entity Management Report]
No. 120
Entity Name: Restraint 
Grade: Alpha (Ⅱ)
Risk Level: 7

Information:
This is a ring once worn by the war god ‘■■■’ from another dimension. Pursuing infinite strength, he eventually transcended mortal life and attained divinity. Even after achieving eternal and undying life, he did not cease his pursuit of power. When he reached his limits, he commissioned his friend, the god of blacksmiths ‘■■■ ■■■■’, to craft a ring that could restrain his own power.

The ring was forged solely with the purpose of further growth. Its materials are unknown, except for the fact that it includes the war god’s own bones and blood.

Abilities – Restraint:

1. The entity seals a portion of the wearer’s total power. (The amount sealed is determined by the entity itself.)
2. Separately from the sealed power, it extracts and converts the wearer’s life force, storing that energy for itself. The stored power increases over time.
3. When the ring is removed, all restraints placed on the wearer vanish, and the accumulated power is returned entirely to the wearer. (However, this stored power is then consumed.)

Special Notes:
Though tool-type, the ring possesses a will of its own. Due to being forged from the bones and blood of the war god, it has a highly aggressive personality. It determines its own master and has been observed to mercilessly reject or even eliminate those it deems unworthy.

※ Precautions

1. Administrators below Alpha-grade are strictly forbidden from approaching the entity. Violation will absolve Tree of all responsibility for the administrator’s safety.
2. The form and conditions of “restraint” are not fixed. They change based on the will of the entity.
3. All actions are determined by the entity’s judgment; choosing to wear it is entirely the administrator’s own responsibility. Tree takes no responsibility for any events thereafter.
4. Those who crave power often meet a tragic end. What will your choice be?
   .
   .
   .
   “It’s disgustingly complicated.”

The place where Lee Taeseong opened his eyes again was the isolation chamber where “Voice of the Mind” had been contained. In his view was Oh Haeyoung, sprawled out on the floor snoring with her limbs spread out.

“Ugh. Team leader… this isn’t right. I get how you feel, but we’re coworkers! You have to separate business and personal matters. No, I mean, it’s not that I hate it, but… still…”

Whatever dream she was having, it was starting to annoy him. With a lazy nudge of his foot, he pushed her aside and leaned against the wall, staring at the ring—Restraint—in his hand.

[Put it on.]

Taeseong processed what he’d understood so far:

‘So wearing this ring means I’ll have to live with part of my power sealed. How much is sealed is entirely up to the entity. But the longer I wear it, the more power it’ll accumulate…’

That’s when he finally understood the true nature of the power he had sensed from Lee Han.

The moment Lee Han took off the ring to hand it to him, the sealed power had been released.

‘Then until that moment… he was functioning with a portion of his power sealed?’

That realization shocked Taeseong even more.

‘A transcendent is in a completely different league.’

He had to admit it—there was a clear wall between them.

‘But that wall won’t be there forever.’

Entity Name: Restraint
This entity had very clear strengths and weaknesses.

In everyday life, you had to live with your power suppressed.
But that was just a “restraint”—it didn’t mean you lost that power.

The energy accumulated in the ring wasn’t taken directly from your strength but converted from your life force.

Simply put:
The longer you endured in a weakened state, the greater the explosion of power you could unleash the moment you removed the ring.

Of course, since the stored power was consumed when the ring was removed, you’d have to start over again from scratch.

‘High risk, high return. It bothers me that it uses my life force as energy… and that the entity acts on its own.’

Living weakened wasn’t ideal—but if used well, he could potentially output more than double his usual strength when the time came.

‘So the cost of that explosive moment… is my own lifespan. Still…’

It wasn’t a bad deal.

Taeseong possessed the Power of Devouring. Theoretically, it allowed him to grow infinitely stronger. Depleted life force? Just replenish it. Weakened in daily life? If his total strength grew enough, that wouldn’t even be a problem anymore.

Even so… there was only one thing holding him back.

‘I don’t like it.’

What bothered him was that the entity held the reins.

How much power would be sealed? Would it recognize him as its master? All of it—was up to the entity.

That fact alone irritated Taeseong.

He didn’t care if it was the war god’s ring or not—just the idea of handing over freedom to a mere entity rubbed him the wrong way.
But throwing it away would be a waste of its potential.

He didn’t know if Lee Han had considered all that before handing it to him, but this entity did seem to be a perfect fit for the power he possessed.

[Put it on.]

So it really did have a mind of its own—it had been speaking nonstop for a while.

After some hesitation, Taeseong finally grasped the ring.

[Yes. A wise decision. I shall grant you eternal, immortal strength. I will free you from your pathetic mortality and make you live as an immortal being—]

And then—

[……? W-What are you doing?! Stop! I said stop! I am not something you eat! You bastard! I said STOP—!!]

He brought it into his mouth.

This was the conclusion he had reached after much deliberation.

Since he didn’t like being controlled by the entity, he decided to devour the entity’s power itself.

Of course, since the outcome was uncertain, it was unclear whether things would go as he hoped.

He was simply acting on instinct.

Crunch. Crack.

He continuously chewed on the ring in his mouth.

At first, he bit down with the mindset of testing whether his teeth or the ring was harder, but it turned out to be softer than expected.

Of course, it didn’t taste good.

The crushed pieces of “Restraint” slid down his throat.

Gulp.

“……”

Taeseong silently observed the changes happening within his body.

“Nothing’s happening—”

It was at that moment.

Bending over, Taeseong placed his hand on the wall and began to throw up.

“Ugh.”

An excruciating pain attacked him.

It felt like all his internal organs were set ablaze.

A searing fire boiled within him.

Realizing that the changes occurring in his body were abnormal, Taeseong desperately reached out and grabbed Oh Haeyoung.

Dangling from his hand, a half-asleep Oh Haeyoung made an incoherent sound.

“Nnyeh?”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Team… Leader? Why are we like this? Did we finish the entity management task for ‘Voice of the Mind’? Or… have we not even started yet!?”

“It’s done.”

Taeseong tossed Oh Haeyoung out of the isolation room and slammed the door shut.

Bang!

It was to prevent any unforeseen danger.

“Guhk!”

Taeseong began vomiting remnants of his internal organs.

It felt as if all his insides were twisting.

He recalled the words his mother once told him as a child: don’t pick up and eat random things.

And this wasn’t even normal food—he had eaten an Alpha II-grade entity.

It would have been strange if nothing went wrong.

‘At this rate, I might really die.’

It had been a long time since he felt his life truly threatened.

Lowering his head, Taeseong looked at his own arms.

The flesh of both arms swelled as if about to burst and then began to ripple grotesquely.

And then, they actually exploded.

Pop!

Flesh and blood sprayed everywhere from his arms.

The entire wall of the isolation room was splattered with the remnants from Taeseong’s exploded arms.

“……Grrh.”

Taeseong, who rarely even flinched in most situations, let out a painful groan.

It was a pain on a completely different scale than anything he had ever experienced before.

And it was just the beginning.

His arms regenerated with Orochi’s power, only to explode again.

Next, his abdomen, thighs, and legs swelled and exploded one after another.

“……Fuck.”

Taeseong cursed under his breath as he crawled across the floor.

Even as he moved, his entire body continued to repeat the cycle of explosion and regeneration.

The isolation room was completely covered with blood, flesh, and shredded internal organs.

It looked like the inside of some beast’s intestine.

Lying flat on the floor, as if resigned to his fate, Taeseong muttered in a low voice.

“……If it weren’t for my regeneration ability, I would’ve died a long time ago.”

Even at that moment, his head bulged grotesquely and swelled up like a balloon.

Then, pop! It exploded.

As his pinkish brain matter scattered everywhere, Taeseong realized something.

Ah, I can survive even if my head explodes.

As long as he focused his regenerative ability, he could recover even after his skull was blown apart.

How long that would continue, he didn’t know.

But for now, it worked.

There was no helping it.

After all, it was Taeseong’s first time experiencing having his head explode.

About three hours passed like that.

Outside the isolation room, dozens of administrators stood nervously.

When Oh Haeyoung heard the pained groans and explosions from inside, she had hurriedly called for reinforcements.

Among them were Team 4’s leader Taesan and team member Lee Eunha.

Everyone was tense, exchanging worried words.

“What in the world… is happening inside?”

“It sounds like something keeps exploding…”

“I’ve never seen Team Leader Taeseong in such agony before. Should we… should we report this to the higher-ups?”

At that moment—

“Aaaaaargh!”

A loud scream from Taeseong echoed from within the isolation room, accompanied by a powerful explosion.

Everyone froze at the ferocity of the sound.

“……”

“……”

A heavy silence followed, and no more sounds came from within.

Lee Eunha was the first to speak.

“I’ll go in and check.”

Taesan asked in surprise.

“You’ll go in?”

“Yes. We need to see for ourselves what’s happening inside.”

Oh Haeyoung quickly spoke up.

“I’ll go too.”

After a brief hesitation, Taesan said,

“I’ll take the lead. I’m probably the toughest among us.”

The three exchanged glances, and just as Taesan was about to open the door—

Clack!

The door opened.

A haggard-looking Taeseong stumbled out.

Startled, Taesan quickly asked,

“M-Manager Taeseong! Are you alright?”

“……I’m fine.”

After those words, Taeseong walked slowly past the administrators.

Anyone could tell he was utterly exhausted.

Watching his retreating back, Oh Haeyoung suddenly had a thought.

‘Did Team Leader always have that ring on?’

From behind, murmuring voices filled the air.

“Call the cleanup crew, quick!”

“Ugh!”

“What the hell is that…?”

Turning around, she saw that everyone’s gaze was directed toward the inside of the isolation room.

‘What’s gotten them all so worked up?’

Oh Haeyoung also turned her gaze toward the room.

“……”

The isolation room was stained completely red.

Everywhere was filled with blood and flesh.

A nauseating stench, the likes of which she had never experienced before, stung her nose.

Fragments that looked like internal organs and parts of a brain were scattered around.

If there was a hell made from human organs, it would look like this.

“Team Leader…”

Unknown to Oh Haeyoung, Taeseong was heading towards the isolation room where the Eight-Footed Ghost was sealed.

Lee Taeseong asked in a flustered voice.

“The world ends? What do you mean by that?”

“It’s exactly what it sounds like. December 25, 2035. This world will end.”

…The end? As in, everything will be over?

If someone else had said this, he would’ve brushed it off as the rambling of a doomsday cultist. But because it was Lee Han, he couldn’t dismiss it so easily.

What kind of insane nonsense was this? He’d heard many things since arriving here, but this was by far the hardest to believe.

And yet, Lee Han’s face remained completely calm, even while talking about something that should be shaking the entire world to its core.

To him, it was no different than casually mentioning what he had for lunch yesterday.

After all, he had experienced the end of the world more than 900 times.

That’s why he believed without a shadow of a doubt that the world would end again this time. It wasn’t speculation—it was based on experience.

“I can’t believe this. You’re telling me the world ends, just like that?”

“Believe it or don’t—it’s up to you. But I’ve lived through 999 lives, and I’ve witnessed the end every single time. Of course, not in every cycle. There were rare times I died before the end came and moved on to the next cycle. But those were early missteps, nothing more.”

“…….”

“In every other cycle, without a single exception, the world ended on December 25, 2035. Then the loop began again.”

These were the words of a regressor who had relived his life 998 times. There was no reason for him to lie under these circumstances.

“That’s why I concluded that this curse of mine is tied to a fixed doomsday. If I want to escape this damned loop, I have to stop the destined end. But no matter what I tried, I’ve never been able to prevent it.”

In other words, even after repeating his life 999 times, Lee Han had never lived past December 25, 2035.

That day.

What in the world could possibly happen—so catastrophic that even someone as powerful as Lee Han couldn’t stop it?

He possessed an ability beyond the norm: regression.

With his knowledge of the future, he could snatch up countless fateful encounters and grow at a transcendent pace. And yet even he couldn’t prevent the end?

‘If what he’s saying is true… then what the hell was the Tree doing?’

His head swirled with questions. Rather than agonizing on his own, Taeseong chose to just ask.

“Even you, an Apostle, couldn’t stop it? I mean, wouldn’t the you from ten years in the future be unimaginably stronger than you are now?”

Lee Han nodded.

“The me in the 998th cycle was the strongest I’ve ever been. I stepped into a realm I’d never even heard of across hundreds of regressions. Even I was impressed with myself. I was sure—this time, I could stop the end.”

“And then?”

Of course, he already knew the answer.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“…….”

“It wasn’t enough. I used every scrap of information I had to grow stronger in record time, gathered forces, and raised countless talents. I prepared in every way I could to face the end. As ridiculous as it sounds, I truly believed I was perfect back then. It was a plan forged from 998 lifetimes of effort.”

“Then why did it fail?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Yeah. I was already dead before I could do anything. The moment I saw it, the world ended. That’s all.”

Unbelievable. Was such a thing even possible?

“The Tree. What about the Tree? Don’t they have other Apostles? And I’ve heard of ‘Root,’ the top decision-making body. Were even they unable to stop the end?”

Lee Han nodded.

“In all the cycles I lived, I was never able to reach the lowest depths of the Tree. The best I could become was an Apostle. Not because of any physical limitation, but because there just wasn’t enough time. The span between the start of the regression and 2035 is too short. That’s why the Tree prepared in its own way, and I in mine. I’ve spent most of my lives as a member of the Tree’s management, and even now, I still don’t fully grasp its true power.”

He continued.

It had been a long time since he’d opened up about his regression to anyone.

He remembered mentioning it a few times in his early cycles, but eventually, he stopped. After all, those memories would vanish the moment the next cycle began.

“A traveler from a parallel universe once said to me, ‘Ah, so here you call it the “Tree”…’

In his world, the Tree was known as the SCP Foundation. Other names included Masonfree, Mitinaillu, Moon Corporation, Reverse Company… The names were different, but they were all the same entity.”

The name changed, but the organization remained. Even in parallel universes and other worlds, the Tree still existed.

“…….”

“Who knows. Maybe after my death, they survived and rebuilt the world. Or maybe thinking the world ended at all was just my mistake.
Since I died and couldn’t witness what happened afterward, I might’ve just assumed it was the end. But… even so, I’m convinced the world did end.”

“Why?”

“Even if the Tree has incredible power…I don’t think even they could deal with something that devoured an entire planet.”

Lee Taeseong asked, unable to hide his disbelief.

“Devoured the planet?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was just the planet. Maybe it was the whole planetary system. Maybe the galaxy itself. I can’t say for sure—only that it was beyond description in scale.”

“That’s insane. That’s not even close to reasonable.”

Not just a city, not a country—but a planet? And now he was bringing up entire star systems and galaxies? It sounded absurd beyond belief.

Upon hearing that, Lee Han curled his lips for the first time. No change in expression—just the corners of his mouth lifting, which only made it feel eerily unnatural.

“And you’re the one talking about what’s reasonable?”

Lee Taeseong admitted it without argument.

“……You’re right.”

At this point, what meaning did words like “common sense” even have? From the moment he set foot in this world, bringing up common sense had become the most meaningless thing one could do.

“What did it look like?”

Lee Han summoned its image in his mind.

“Its appearance… I’m not even sure it can be described as having one… but when I saw it, I thought of a wolf.”

“A wolf?”

“Yeah. A wolf of incomprehensible size, far beyond human perception. I can’t say for certain. I’m only describing what I felt.”

“During all your regressions, was it always that thing that brought the end?”

Lee Han shook his head.

“Most of the time, yes, it was that thing. But in a few cycles, it was other entities that brought about destruction. Still, the date of the world’s end never changed. And even those exceptions were rare.”

“So no matter what form it takes, December 25th, 2035—doomsday always comes.”

“That’s right.”

Could there be a more despairing truth?

He had only just returned and reunited with his only family, yet he was being told the world would end in ten years. To write it off as a mere twist of fate would be to severely understate how fucked up it all was.

It was starting to feel like some unknown entity had trapped him inside a tiny box just to watch him suffer.

“Now I understand… what you meant by ‘ten years.’”

“Get stronger. Strong enough to face the end. For me, this is just one cycle among many, but for you, it’s not.”

Taeseong could feel the weight of countless lifetimes packed into that single line.

“Yeah. I will. After everything, I’m not just gonna sit back and watch the world fall apart.”

He made a vow.

If a predetermined apocalypse was waiting, then he would be the one to consume it. Even if that meant going up against a being that could swallow entire planets.

Then, out of nowhere, Lee Han asked a question.

“Do you know the entity named ‘One Touched by the Abyss’?”

“‘One Tainted by the Abyss’… you mean Choi Woosik, the former manager?”

Lee Han nodded.

“Yes. Father of Choi Harin, and former administrator.”

“I know of him.”

“You’d do well to eliminate him as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“Because soon, the ‘Dweller of the Abyss’ will begin to act in earnest. Once that happens, there’s no turning back. Choi Woosik will go berserk as an Alpha-ranked entity, and the Korea branch will suffer massive casualties.”

“Isn’t there any other way?”

“There is. You could enter the ‘Well of the Abyss’ and try to save him. It’ll take considerable effort, but if you succeed, he could become an Alpha-grade administrator in the future. Still, with your current abilities, it won’t be easy.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

After those words, Taeseong stood up from his seat. Lee Han then removed a ring from his finger.

“……!”

A moment later, an overwhelming aura burst forth from Lee Han’s body—something Taeseong had never felt before. It was so intense, he nearly lost consciousness.

Lee Han tossed the ring toward him.

“Take it.”

Taeseong caught the ring and asked with difficulty.

“What is this…?”

“It will help you.”

“I’ll put it to good use.”

Lee Han nodded silently.

Moments later, a flood of information poured into Taeseong’s mind—a control report on the entity. Lee Han had directly implanted the data into him.

“The next time we meet, you’d better be stronger than you are now.”

The unspoken words that followed were clear: If you don’t want to die.

“Don’t worry about me.”

“……”

Snap!

With a flick of Lee Han’s finger, Taeseong’s form vanished.

Even after Taeseong disappeared, Lee Han continued to stare at the spot where he’d stood. Lost in thought.

How long passed?

Eventually, Lee Han slowly lifted his head and muttered under his breath.

“……Now I understand. Why things turned out that way.”

Entity Name: Apocalypse Simulation

Grade: Alpha

It was an entity Lee Han had used not long ago.

He had entered the name “Lee Taeseong” into the simulation, and it returned one possible outcome:

1. If Administrator “Lee Sooah” or the entity known as “Pure Flame” dies for any reason,
2. Then Administrator “Lee Taeseong” or entity ‘■■■ ■■’ has a 99.999999% chance of destroying the world.

Lee Taeseong momentarily doubted his own ears.

“999th life? Could it be that he’s returned 999 times?”

As if answering his unspoken question, Lee Han spoke with perfect timing.

“You asked why I helped you. It’s because, in all 999 of my lives, not once have I seen you. Administrator Lee Taeseong.”

The 12th Apostle of the Tree.

Lee Han was a regressor.

The total number of times he had regressed: 998.

With each regression, he carved an indelible number onto his wrist.

This life was his 999th.

Yet, throughout all those regressions, not once had he encountered a man named Lee Taeseong.

It was an impossibility.

He had met countless people and witnessed countless events, and never had there been an existence that didn’t overlap at least once.

Yet, Lee Taeseong alone had never existed in his life.

And now, for the first time in his 998 regressions, he had appeared—a singular anomaly.

That anomaly was Lee Taeseong.

“A regressor… is that what you are?”

Lee Han’s face remained expressionless as ever. However, within his golden eyes, a flicker of ‘doubt’ was visible.

“Administrator Lee Taeseong. What are you?”

Lee Taeseong was at a loss for words.

From his perspective, it was a completely absurd question.

Lee Han calmly continued.

“Do you know what I’m thinking right now?”

Lee Taeseong shook his head.

Looking into Lee Han’s eyes, he felt as if he were being sucked into the depths of his own consciousness.

“I’m considering whether I should eliminate you right here and now. You, the ‘variable’ that has only now appeared in my 999th life.”

Lee Taeseong flinched at those words.

‘Apostle… Can I even win against him?’

He ran countless battle simulations in his mind, but no matter how many times he repeated them, the outcome was always the same.

‘Impossible.’

At least, for now.

Even though he had recovered his past memories and made astonishing progress in a short time, the gap between them was undeniable.

The man before him was a being from beyond.

If Lee Taeseong had only just conquered a mountain, Lee Han had already claimed the peaks beyond, or perhaps even an entirely different dimension—no, the heavens themselves.

At least, that’s how it felt to Lee Taeseong.

If a battle were to break out here, his only option would be to escape with everything he had.

It was the only way to survive.

Of course, escaping from an Apostle’s pursuit was a completely different problem.

Cautiously, Lee Taeseong opened his mouth.

“So you’re saying… you’ve been repeating 999 lives? And in all those lives, this is the first time I’ve appeared?”

“That’s right.”

Now, he finally understood.

Why this complete stranger had shown him kindness.

It was never kindness to begin with.

It was mere curiosity toward the unexpected ‘variable’ that had suddenly emerged in his life.

Lee Taeseong had no way of knowing what a being who had lived for an eternity was truly seeking.

‘To face a monster like him, I need time. And now is not the time.’

Even as he looked at the man, he saw nothing.

It was as if the very nature of existence was rejecting the idea that he could consume Lee Han.

Yet, despite that, his hunger surged wildly.

His insatiable gluttony dripped with desire, knowing that consuming Lee Han would elevate him to an unimaginable level.

It was hunger born from greed.

The more impossible something was, the more his hunger burned.

If he could just devour the ‘Apostle,’ perhaps he could reclaim all of his lost memories in an instant.

Based on past data, the stronger the entity, the more memories it seemed to hold.

And Lee Han—he was undoubtedly beyond all of them combined.

“In my 999 lives, I have seen many people and changed many fates. Some of them were people you know. Chief Intelligence Officer Choi Harin. She’s currently the deputy head of Intelligence Team 2, isn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

“The 322nd cycle. No. 09998. Entity name: ‘One Tainted by the Abyss.’ Initially classified as Beta-ranked, but after full mental corruption, it was reclassified as Alpha. The entity’s rampage led to the deaths of many administrators. Choi Harin, having lost her father, took her own life.”

Lee Taeseong’s expression hardened.

Unfazed, Lee Han continued.

“The 402nd cycle. Delta-ranked administrator Lee Sooah from Japan. Delta-ranked administrator Lee Eunha from South Korea’s 4th Management Team, along with four others. All perished during an assignment in the Aokigahara Sea of Trees.”

Lee Taeseong’s face twisted into that of a demon upon hearing of his sister’s death.

A surge of intense murderous intent flooded the space, breaking free from his control.

Even though he knew these were events from different timelines that had never actually happened, he couldn’t help but be shaken.

‘There’s no need to worry. This isn’t reality. It’s fiction, nothing more.’

The immense killing intent, potent enough to make even great yokai shrink back, continued to swirl violently.

Yet, Lee Han didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow.

“The 221st cycle. Beta-ranked administrator Xiao Yun from China. Died during an entity subjugation mission for Alpha-rank promotion, both arms and legs severed.”

“……”

“The 224th cycle. Gamma-ranked administrators, the Ito and Yato siblings from Japan. Killed in a confrontation with Beta-ranked administrator Ashiya Douman.”

“……”

“The 424th cycle. Director of South Korea’s Tree branch and Alpha-ranked administrator Park Woo-man went berserk, resulting in the deaths of 90% of the branch’s personnel. The administrators deployed to contain the situation eliminated the entity known as ‘Avatar of Karma.’ The South Korean branch was subsequently shut down.”

“……”

“The 666th cycle. Alpha-ranked administrators Lee Sooah, Oh Haeyoung, Taesan, Yu Gi-jun, Go Young-hee, and five others. Encountered an Alpha-ranked entity, ‘Harbinger of Plague,’ and were all killed.”

Lee Taeseong doubted his ears.

“Alpha-ranked?”

He had always known they had immense potential, but he had never imagined a world where they would reach Alpha rank.

‘Wait… could it be that Lee Han personally nurtured them?’

If the regressor Lee Han had intervened directly and altered their fates, it was entirely possible.

“There were countless other futures as well. But in all those timelines, Lee Taeseong—you never appeared even once.”

“……”

“Why did you appear in this cycle?”

 

“…….”

“What exactly are you?”

Lee Han pondered.

What was the identity of this anomaly that had suddenly appeared?

Was this someone who would become a variable in the path he sought to take? They had never appeared before—so why now?

Would it be best to eliminate them here and now to minimize uncertainty?

Even after 999 lives, Lee Han could not determine whether that would be beneficial or harmful.

“I am simply… Lee Taeseong.”

Taeseong had nothing more to say.

Even he had not yet recovered all his memories—how could he possibly answer the questions of a regressor who had lived 999 lives?

Lee Han responded.

“Seeing you in person, I’m now certain. I don’t yet know how your interference as a ‘variable’ will affect my plans. But the fact that a new possibility has emerged is enough reason to keep watching.”

“That means, the moment you decide I’m no longer worth watching, you’ll eliminate me?”

Lee Han answered immediately. Without a second’s hesitation.

“Yes.”

“…….”

“The only reason I’m letting you live is to leave open even the slightest possibility of breaking this damned infinite cycle.”

998 regressions.

Lee Han was a prisoner sentenced to life in the jail of time.

Some might covet his power, but at the very least, Lee Han himself considered it a horrific curse—one he utterly loathed.

What he truly desired…

Was to break free from this accursed loop and meet a final, ordinary death.

“If there’s even the smallest chance, I will use it. And if things go wrong, I’ll simply move on to the next cycle.”

For the regressor Lee Han, there was always a next time.

But for Lee Taeseong, this life was everything.

“What is it that you ultimately want?”

For the first time, Lee Han, who had remained expressionless until now, shouted as if crushing his words.

His voice carried a mix of deep-seated murderous intent and rage, yet it also held the exhaustion of someone whose mind had long since eroded.

“…To break this wretched cycle of regression. It’s a horrific curse. Do you have any idea what it feels like to be trapped in the cage of time, endlessly resurrecting?”

…Of course not.

He had never experienced it.

“I don’t. This is my first and last life.”

Lee Han muttered bitterly.

“I see… Be grateful that you can die. Be thankful that your life is finite. Because living endlessly… that alone is hell.”

At that moment, Taeseong had a thought.

If his ability, Devour, was truly what he believed it to be… could he devour Lee Han’s regression ability and break the loop?

Lee Taeseong spoke.

“If all you need is to end your regressions… is that enough?”

For the first time, Lee Han reacted with genuine intensity.

Even after 999 lives, a faint ember of hope still flickered in his heart—however faint.

“…Is there a way?”

“It’s not certain. But I believe it’s worth attempting at least once. Of course, I can’t do it right now. In order to use this method, I need to become as strong as you—or stronger.”

His words were vague, and the conditions he attached seemed absurd.

Yet, the ember of hope within Lee Han flared even brighter.

“Explain in detail.”

Lee Taeseong began explaining Devour, the ability he possessed.

He had two goals in doing so.

First, to buy himself time to grow stronger.

Second, to gain the support of a regressor and an Apostle—accelerating his growth even further.

It was a perfect strategy.

From Taeseong’s perspective, this was both a means of survival and an opportunity to gain an Apostle as an ally.

There was no surer move.

When Taeseong finished, Lee Han nodded, his face as expressionless as ever.

However, his eyes now burned with newfound vitality.

Lee Han had suffered the cruel torment of false hope too many times before.

But still…

He decided to let this ember burn a little longer.

He wasn’t so broken that he had given up completely—at least, that’s what he told himself.

“…Understood. That means we have about ten years left.”

Taeseong frowned in confusion.

“Ten years? Why ten?”

Lee Han answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“December 25, 2035. The world ends.”

Lee Taeseong stared at the man before him.

“…….”

A man with jet-black hair as dark as ebony and golden eyes that radiated an otherworldly glow. He was dressed in a black coat and black gloves, with a cross-shaped necklace hanging around his neck. His height was similar to Lee Taeseong’s.

Looking down at him, the man spoke.

“A singularity, is it?”

His deep, resonant voice was striking.

His features were striking enough to draw attention, yet his expression was nonexistent—almost as if an emotionless doll stood before Lee Taeseong.

And yet, Taeseong sensed something else.

Fatigue? Resignation? No, something similar, but distinctly different.

If he had to put it into words…

Disinterest.

‘There’s no energy coming from him. Not even a hint of presence when he approached this place.’

It was eerily quiet—so much so that he wondered if he was standing before an ordinary human.

But his Devouring Sense warned him.

That thing… is something you cannot consume.

“Who are you?”

“Lee Han.”

A name he had heard before.

‘Lee Han? Where have I heard that name before?’

And then—

As if naturally surfacing in his mind, Choi Harin’s voice echoed in his memory.

—His rank is technically Alpha. In the Tree’s hierarchy, Alpha is the highest rank. So yes, technically, that’s correct, but… hmm… how should I put this? They’re actually beyond that. Even among Alphas, they exist on an entirely different plane of existence. In the first place, they aren’t even administrators.

Apostles.

The twelve chosen candidates designated as successors of Root, the highest decision-making body of the Tree.

People who wield absolute authority, unrestricted by rules or regulations.

Entities with the highest security clearance within the Tree.

And also, the Tree’s executives.

Officially, Lee Han’s position was that of an Executive Director.

—I’ll be visiting you soon, Administrator Lee Taeseong.

“Are you an Apostle?”

“I am.”

Their gazes locked.

Lee Taeseong tried to heighten his senses and look into the man, but he still felt nothing.

The absurd sensation of facing someone who was clearly standing there, yet seemed absent.

‘What… is this?’

Lee Han, too, kept his gaze fixed on Taeseong.

His golden eyes—dyed with an mysterious radiance—seemed to peer beyond Taeseong’s outer shell, straight into his very being.

“…….”

Then, Lee Han was the first to speak.

“I’d like to have a conversation.”

Lee Taeseong gave a slight nod.

“Fine.”

An Apostle outranked even a Branch Director, yet he didn’t seem to care about Taeseong’s informal tone in the slightest. As if such trivial matters didn’t concern him at all.

“We’ll change locations.”

Lee Han removed his glove, revealing five fingers adorned with various rings. His hand was covered in unfamiliar symbols, densely inscribed across the skin.

Then, he casually waved his hand through the air.

“Transference.”

And in an instant, both of them vanished.

Left behind in the isolation chamber was only Oh Haeyoung, sleeping soundly, oblivious to the world.

“Mmm… hmph…”

---

The familiar uneasiness of spatial movement washed over him as Lee Taeseong opened his eyes.

“This place…”

The space around him was vast and open. A cool breeze swept past him. In the distance, he saw snow-covered peaks and clouds drifting lazily.

Crunch. Crunch.

As he took a few steps forward, the sound of snow squashing underfoot reached his ears.

Though he wasn’t sure of the exact location, it was clear—this was the peak of a mountain.

He glanced around, but the one who had transported him here was nowhere in sight.

All he could see was a small wooden cabin standing alone in the middle of the snow-covered landscape.

Without hesitation, Taeseong headed for the cabin.

Creak.

As he pushed the door open and stepped inside, he saw Lee Han sitting at a wooden dining table. From a fireplace in the corner, the sound of crackling flames filled the quiet space.

In stark contrast to the image Lee Han projected, the inside of the cabin felt surprisingly… human.

“Is this your home?”

At Taeseong’s question, Lee Han simply nodded instead of answering.

On the table, two steaming cups sat before them.

‘Tea?’

Seeing that he had prepared it in advance, Lee Taeseong thought Lee Han might be more considerate than he had initially assumed.

Still gazing absentmindedly out the window, Lee Han spoke softly.

“Sit.”

Taeseong immediately took a seat.

Reaching for the cup before him, he took a sip—

“…….”

A sharp bitterness spread across his tongue.

This wasn’t tea.

It was alcohol.

And a particularly strong one at that.

‘Do people normally drink vodka warm?’

Since he wasn’t well-versed in alcohol culture, he simply thought it was personal preference.

Silence settled between them.

Both men quietly sipped their drinks without exchanging words.

Meanwhile, Taeseong sorted through his thoughts.

‘He seemed to recognize the woman in the red dress. He called her filth from the outside. What did he mean by that?’

‘He was also the one who smoothed over the commotion I caused at the Japan branch. That might not be difficult for an Apostle, but why go to such lengths for someone he’s never even met before?’

After some deliberation, Taeseong finally spoke.

“Since we’re here to talk, mind if I ask you a few things?”

“…….”

Lee Han nodded. He was a man of far fewer words than Lee Taeseong had been at the beginning.

Taeseong suddenly thought that this man’s everyday life must be unbearably boring compared to now. Perhaps the only reason he had even been summoned here was due to a faint trace of curiosity.

“What is an Apostle?”

“A proxy of the Tree.”

“A proxy?”

“…….”

“Are Alpha-grade administrators different from Apostles?”

“They are.”

“I’ve heard that Apostles are ultimately classified as Alpha-grade as well… Is that true?”

“They are only publicly declared as Alpha. An Apostle is just an Apostle.”

Hearing that, Taeseong considered the possibility that some of the information Choi Harin had given him was incorrect.

While she did handle a vast amount of intelligence as the next Director of Intelligence, she was still merely at a team leader level.

Taeseong now understood that there were countless pieces of information inaccessible to her due to security clearance restrictions.

“Do you know about the concept of ‘+’ and ‘-’ in entity grading?”

Lee Han nodded.

“How many pluses do you have, then?”

Taeseong asked this to gauge, even roughly, the strength of an Apostle.

“None.”

“None?”

Nod.

“Isn’t that just slang created for the administrators convenience?”

“That’s how I understand it.”

Lee Han gazed directly into Taeseong’s eyes and spoke in a low voice.

“Administrator Lee Taeseong. How many Alpha-grade entities do you think exist within the Tree?”

“…….”

“To classify them all, Mother introduced a new system. Not some trivial wordplay with pluses and minuses.”

Lee Han waved his hand in the air.

In an instant, hundreds—no, thousands—of entity management reports flashed before Taeseong’s eyes.

The grades inscribed on them ranged from ‘Alpha I’ in order to ‘Alpha X.’ A total of ten levels.

Taeseong was taken aback.

It wasn’t the existence of a new grading system that shocked him—it was the fact that there were enough Alpha entities within the Tree to necessitate ten different levels.

‘All of these… are actually managed?’

Among the reports that briefly flashed by, he even spotted one for Park Woo-man, the Korean branch director. His grade was ‘Alpha II.’

Suddenly, Park Woo-man’s words resurfaced in his mind.

—I am among the weaker Alpha-grade administrators.

Now, Taeseong finally understood what that meant.

If someone like Park Woo-man, who had demonstrated such overwhelming power, was only an ‘Alpha II,’ then what kind of beings existed above him?

‘This is… just the tip of the iceberg.’

This information was classified, known only to key figures among administrators and staff.

In Korea, only Park Woo-man, the Director of Intelligence, and a select few Alpha-grade administrators were aware of it.

The reason was simple.

It was a measure to prevent the administrators morale from plummeting.

A precaution to ensure that no one else would feel the crushing weight of realization that Taeseong now felt.

‘I thought I had a decent understanding of the Tree, but I was gravely mistaken. There’s no telling how many more monstrous beings exist.’

If even Taeseong was overwhelmed by such thoughts, what would happen if Epsilon- or Delta-grade administrators found out?

They would be consumed by indescribable despair and helplessness.

Earlier, Lee Han had said that Apostles were different from Alpha-grade administrators. Officially, they were announced as Alpha-grade, but in truth, an Apostle was just an Apostle.

“Then… does that mean you are above Alpha?”

“…….”

Lee Han remained silent.

Taeseong took that as his answer.

‘An Apostle is an Apostle.’

Not an ‘Alpha I’ or an ‘Alpha X’—just an Apostle.

That was his grade.

Taeseong sensed that asking further wouldn’t provide any particularly useful information.

‘But why is he being so cooperative?’

Since arriving here, he had been the one incessantly firing off questions. And Lee Han, almost excessively so, had answered them all.

Even though Lee Han had no real reason to do so.

Taeseong spoke up.

“I heard you helped lower my disciplinary level. Before asking why, I should first express my gratitude. Thank you. Thanks to you… I was able to return to Korea safely.”

“Are you curious? About why I spared you?”

“Of course.”

Lee Han’s gaze locked onto Taeseong.

“Your grade is Sigma.”

“Sigma-grade? What’s that?”

Oh Haeyoung had once briefly mentioned it, but Taeseong couldn’t recall.

“An irregular personally designated by Mother. A singularity.”

This was the first time he was hearing this.

‘I’m… Sigma-grade?’

Lee Han continued.

“Judging by your reaction, you didn’t know.”

Taeseong, still flustered, nodded.

“…I just heard about it now.”

Lee Han spoke indifferently.

“Is that so? Well, this is my first time seeing you, too.”

Taeseong’s gaze naturally drifted to Lee Han’s wrist.

Engraved on his wrist was the number ‘999.’

“Even across 999 lives.”

“Ah, there you are. I’ve been looking for you for quite some time.”

“……”

The woman’s voice could sound clear, ominous, or noble, depending on how one heard it.

Lee Taeseong realized that his right hand, gripping Shisan Hyulhae, was trembling slightly.

The moment he faced that thing, his instincts screamed at him.

Leave this place.

That is dangerous.

DangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerousDangerous.

Lee Taeseong, who had risen from the lowest prey to the highest predator, had keener danger detection abilities than anyone else.

‘That thing—it’s not something I can consume yet.’

He could see no outcome.

No hunger surged within him.

Instead, he felt an overwhelming disgust at its very presence.

He knew that it wasn’t ‘real.’ It was merely an illusion created by the entity known as “The Voice of the Mind.”

But a question arose.

‘Is it really not real? How can something radiate such an overwhelming presence and still be an illusion?’

Even in the fragments of his memory, that woman had been watching him. As if she was aware of his existence.

‘Is that… even possible?’

Danger.

Even knowing that it was an illusion created by the entity’s unique properties, his instincts as prey sounded the alarm.

Oh Haeyoung had already lost consciousness.

Her eyes, now showing only the whites, filled with terror. Her entire body trembled uncontrollably, and saliva dribbled from her lips.

It had done nothing. It had merely walked forward.

It had merely appeared in this space.

Yet, its mere presence alone had shattered a Gamma-grade administrator.

Struggling, Lee Taeseong finally forced himself to speak.

He knew he had to leave this place immediately, but no possible method came to mind.

“……You followed me all the way here?”

“Yes. You’re quite fascinating, after all. It’s been a while since I had such an enjoyable outing.”

“…….”

“So, this is the space you refer to as being created by an ‘entity’? It seems to be manifesting the intruder’s mental world… In that case, I must be a fictional existence born from your memories as well. Hohoho.”

‘That thing’ had first appeared in this space a hundred years ago.

Back then, rather than confronting it, Lee Taeseong had chosen to flee without hesitation.

He had no second thoughts.

The unsettling feeling exuded by its presence was beyond description.

Fortunately, due to the entity’s nature, the interior space constantly shifted, allowing him to escape.

But now, it had reappeared here.

‘That thing’ fully understood the nature of this space.

And that fact filled Lee Taesung with disgust.

Even Han Yugwang had taken a hundred years to recognize that he was merely an illusion.

Yet, from the very moment it appeared, that thing had seemed to know everything.

‘Is this… fear?’

Lee Taeseong confronted his emotions with calm detachment.

For the first time in a long while, he was feeling fear.

That mysterious existence loomed over him with an indescribable terror.

And he did not deny it.

“We’ve met a few times before, haven’t we? Though it seems I was the only one aware of it.”

He knew that avoiding this wouldn’t solve anything.

“Judging from your reaction, it seems you do remember… Hmm, why are you acting so stiff? I have so much I want to talk to you about.”

Click. Click.

With every step she took, the sound of her heels echoed through his mind.

It felt as if countless insects were digging into his brain.

A distortion of existence. What is that thing?

Was it really like this when I saw it in my memories?

Pain. Pain. Pain.

It’s just an illusion, yet facing it directly makes my brain—

BurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurnBurn.

Before he realized it, Lee Taeseong’s body was trembling more violently than ever before.

He let go of Shisan Hyulhae and grabbed his other shaking hand to steady himself.

“……”

He clenched his lips tightly, enduring the sensation of dozens of insects eating his brain.

Then, he summoned the energy lying deep within him.

Fire Qi  Cold Qi, Demon Qi, Poison Qi—

And the True Qi he had accumulated all this time.

All of it fused together and erupted from his body in a violent surge.

BOOM!

A dense black aura swirled around him, distorting the space with its sheer force. His crimson eyes gleamed with a piercing radiance.

He picked up the Shisan Hyulhae that had fallen to the ground.

Responding to his energy, the sword let out a resonant hum.

Ziiing!

A blood-red aura surged from the blade, dyeing the surroundings in crimson.

Behind Lee Taeseong, mountains of corpses and an ocean of blood took shape.

“Hoo…”

Only then was he able to truly face the presence before him.

The woman in the red dress observed him with intrigue.

Though her face was partially hidden by a fan, he was certain she was smiling.

“Oh my… An ordinary human would have gouged out their own eyes or hanged themselves by now. But you—you’re different, aren’t you? See? My eye for talent is impeccable. While the other fools waste their time floundering, I manage to find such dazzling gems.”

[510 years have passed……]

“How noisy.”

Thud.

As the woman in the red dress tapped the ground with her umbrella, the ‘Voice of the Mind’ fell silent.

Lee Taeseong asked,

“Are you not an illusion?”

“An illusion? Hmm… Technically, I was created by this entity’s characteristics.”

“Then how can you exert this level of influence?”

“Oh? Are you curious?”

Her voice was captivating—so much so that it would have made most men’s hearts race just by listening.

But to Lee Taeseong, it was nothing but repulsive, loathsome, and filled with dread.

“Aren’t you curious about something else? ■■■ Lee Taeseong, or should I call you ■■■ ■■? Well, I suppose you wouldn’t remember anything in your current state, so it’s meaningless.”

“What are you?”

“My, how bold.”

“…….”

Lee Taeseong’s gaze was fixed on the woman’s fan.

“You caused quite a commotion in the Aokigahara Sea of Trees, didn’t you? You even destroyed all the gifts I had prepared. Sniff, sniff. My heart hurts. Why is everyone always so strict with me…?”

Before the woman could even finish speaking—

Lee Taeseong stepped forward and swung his sword at an incredible speed. The sheer force of the explosive movement tore through the muscles in his arm.

Swish!

The lightning-fast sword strike shot toward the woman, but she effortlessly neutralized the attack with a light flick of her fan.

But that wasn’t what mattered.

When she moved the fan, her mouth was revealed.

“You saw it?”

Inside her grotesquely swollen five mouths were rows of hideous, razor-sharp fangs, like those of a beast… And within them, pinkish lumps resembling human brains were tangled together like the roots of a massive tree.

Even someone as mentally resilient as Lee Taeseong instinctively withdrew for a moment.

From her mouth flowed an incomprehensible voice.

“Ahh, you saw it. You saw it. I really didn’t want to show you…”

It was not a sound a human vocal cord could produce.

The woman abruptly flicked away her fan and stretched open her monstrous mouth.

“Since you’ve already seen it… take a look inside as well.”

Her mouth grew larger and larger, until eventually, the entire space they were standing in was being sucked into her wide mouth.

Lee Taeseong hastily drove his sword, Sisan Hyulhae, into the ground.

Slash!

‘There’s no time.’

From the very beginning, he had judged that killing that thing was impossible.

He had merely prolonged the encounter to gather as much information as possible for the future.

‘I’ll give it a try.’

He recalled his battle against Ryomen Sukuna—

The moment he had torn apart space itself and summoned a colossal beast’s forelimb.

‘I’ll cut it. I’ll slice through space itself.’

There was once a man who wielded his sword daily until he finally cut down the peak of a mountain.

A man who ruled the world with a single blade.

‘I can do it.’

If he, who had grasped the essence of the sword, could cut through a mountain, then surely, he could sever even this space.

He had to believe it. Without belief, he could not cut. If he doubted, he would not succeed.

Believe. He had to believe.

In himself. In his own existence. In Lee Taeseong.

‘I will condense all the power within me into a single point and sever space itself.’

At some point, a gray blade had appeared in his grasp—

Hoirang (Gray Wolf).

Lee Taeseong imbued the blade, now dyed in an grayish colour, with his will and slashed diagonally.

‘If I can’t cut it, it will devour me instead.’

The divine sword, forged from the fangs of Taegorang (The Primordial Wolf), roared as if resonating with its master’s intent.

──────

A gray wolf darted swiftly like flash of light, opening its ferocious jaws and greedily devouring the space in which they stood.

Crunch. Crackle.

The darkness that had surrounded them dissipated, and the space they had been in slowly began to collapse.

Lifting Oh Haeyoung onto his shoulder, Lee Taeseong walked toward the crumbling boundary of the space.

Step. Step.

The woman in the crimson dress covered her mouth with her fan, as if disappointed, and murmured softly.

“See you next time, Mr. Lee Taeseong.”

---

Having escaped from the “Voice of the Mind,” Lee Taeseong collapsed onto the floor of the isolation chamber.

“Haa… haa…”

He wiped away the sweat dripping down as he gasped for breath. His hands were still trembling.

Staring up at the ceiling, he muttered under his breath.

“That crazy bitch…”

When he glanced to the side, he saw that Oh Haeyoung was sleeping soundly. Now free from the woman’s presence, he no longer seemed to be suffering.

Struggling to lift his heavy upper body, Lee Taeseong leaned against the wall, lost in thought.

‘She knew about me. She seemed aware of my power and my past. Just who is she? Could she be… a deity?’

Just then—

The door to the isolation chamber opened, and a man stepped inside.

“You must have encountered some filth from the outside, Administrator Lee Taeseong.”

The man’s name was Lee Han. The 12th Apostle of the Tree and South Korea’s one and only Apostle.

Step. Step.

Lee Taeseong looked utterly exhausted.

It was no surprise—he had been searching for Oh Haeyoung for a staggering 160 years.

It had been a long time. He had faced many things.

He had fought alongside his comrades on the battlefield during his time as a soldier, battling the monsters of the hidden world.

He had met his mother and father.

He had even crossed swords once more with a man who had spent his entire life wielding a blade for the woman he loved—and through that, he had learned much.

For fifty years, he had been trapped in the formation of the Heavenly Pillar Earth King, Magunak, one of the two deities of the Eastern Continent’s Three Gods, experiencing every conceivable pain the human body could endure.

It took him thirty years to defeat the sworn knight bound by countless restrictions.

If that knight had managed to break free from all his constraints, it would have taken even longer.

Even though he knew these were fragments of memories, they had felt real—too real.

Even with his transcendent mental fortitude, Lee Taeseong found himself exhausted before the onslaught of illusions.

Around the hundred-year mark, he sensed that Oh Haeyoung’s mind was deteriorating.

She no longer responded when he called out to her, and whenever he glimpsed her fleeting illusions, they screamed in agony.

He knew that her shattered mind was the result of past memories, and that knowledge only made him more anxious.

“Get up, Oh Haeyoung. Just how long do you plan to stay down?”

“……”

A blood-red abyss.

At its deepest point, Oh Haeyoung’s body was encased within a membranous cocoon, globe like shape.

It glistened, its surface slick and smooth, while thick, vein-like strands pulsed in rhythmic motion, beating in time with a distant heartbeat.

Taeseong clicked his tongue, irritation slipping into his voice.

“Hah… Do you have any idea how much hell I went through to get here?”

Of course, there was no response.

Oh Haeyoung had given up on everything. This place—this hollow realm—was nothing more than a fabrication of her collapsed psyche.

The “voice of her heart” had simply granted her wish.

“…Are you really going to give up on everything?”

“……”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to avenge your family?”

“……”

“Didn’t you want to learn the truth about that day?”

“……”

“Haven’t you ever wished, just once, to live a happy life?”

A faint twitch.

The body trapped within the membrane trembled ever so slightly.

Seeing this, Taeseong smiled.

“I get it. You’re tired. You’re exhausted. You want to give up on everything and run away. That’s probably true for every human. We all live with pain, and the easiest way to escape it is to flee.”

“……”

“But…”

“……”

“There is no paradise in the place you run to.”

“……”

“Tell me. Does this place you’re in now feel like paradise?”

“……”

“If you can’t answer, then respond the way you just did. I told you, didn’t I? If you ever reach for help, I won’t hesitate to extend my hand.”

“….”

Twitch!

“…I see. That’s answer enough.”

Lee Taeseong raised both hands. The twin swords he held crossed in an X.

“Get up. It’s time to wake up from this dream.”

Slash!

The crossed swords traced a breathtaking arc through the air. As they soared, the membranous cocoon surrounding Oh Haeyoung began to crack.

It was an awe-inspiring sight—like a chrysalis breaking apart as a butterfly emerged after a long slumber.

At last, as the last remnants of the shell crumbled away, Lee Taeseong stepped forward and lifted Oh Haeyoung into his arms.

Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing dazed eyes that gazed up at him, confused and unfocused, like someone just waking from a deep sleep.

“Team… Leader?”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Why am I…?”

At some point, the blood-red sea surrounding her had vanished without a trace, as though it had never existed—like a mirage luring in the desperate and thirsty.

“I… I…”

Tears spilled down Oh Haeyoung’s cheeks, endlessly. She buried her face in Taeseong’s chest, sobbing.

“This wasn’t what I wanted… I just wanted to live happily with my family… I never wanted this kind of life… It’s been so hard, and so terrifying…”

She poured out the words she had kept buried deep inside, her long-suppressed emotions surging forth like an unrelenting waterfall. There was no order to her words—no logic, no coherence. She spoke as if she were a child who had just woken from a nightmare, rambling without sense.

Watching her, Lee Taeseong spoke in a calm voice.

“That’s right. You don’t have to force yourself to smile anymore. If you want to cry, then cry.”

“Huaaang!”

---

[470 years have passed.]
[480 years have passed.]

After sobbing in Taeseong’s arms for what felt like an eternity, Oh Haeyoung finally started to regain her composure. When she did, embarrassment crept in, and she mumbled softly.

“…Can you put me down now?”

Taeseong gently set her down—then promptly flicked her forehead.

Smack!

“Ow! What was that for?!”

“You finally look like yourself again.”

Lowering her head, Oh Haeyoung murmured.

“…Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not giving up on me… for saving me like this.”

She let out a quiet sigh before continuing.

“I remember everything. In the end, I couldn’t withstand the weight of time here—I broke. I let myself get trapped in the illusions of the past, and I was ready to give up on everything.”

Lee Taeseong listened in silence.

“I felt a momentary sense of relief within the illusion I created. It was a bit eerie, but… still, I was happy to return to that time, even if just for a little while. Eating meals with friends without a care, attending classes, chatting about trivial things and laughing brightly…”

Lee Taeseong said nothing, simply looking at her. Oh Haeyoung continued speaking.

“Honestly, I think I never wanted to wake up from that dream. In that place, I wouldn’t have to suffer anymore. I wouldn’t have to risk my life fighting terrifying entities like I do now… I wouldn’t have to keep pushing myself relentlessly to avenge my family and uncover the truth… Well, in the end, that place was just another kind of hell.”

Perhaps her mind had yet to fully recover, as to Lee Taeseong, she still seemed to be rambling.

It was as if she herself couldn’t clearly sort out her emotions.

“Accept it.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t overthink it. Just accept it all. The Oh Haeyoung who longs for the past, the Oh Haeyoung who suffers because of it, the Oh Haeyoung who wants to turn away from reality, and the Oh Haeyoung who still chooses to move forward—all of them are you. They’re all a part of you. All those pieces come together to make you who you are now. So just accept it.”

“…How can you think so simply about something like this, Team Leader?”

“I know. Words are easy. But I’m no different from you. I’ve struggled too. I’ve carried my own burdens. When I first fell into another world, I thought about dying every single day. There were times when I just cried my heart out. But I endured, driven by nothing but the determination to return. It’s just… that’s how it was.”

Before he knew it, he had spoken more openly than he intended. Running a hand through his hair in mild embarrassment, he added,

“Let’s just live like that. At the very least, let’s not run away—let’s keep looking ahead as we live. If we do that, then maybe… one day, we’ll have the right to use the word ‘happiness.’”

“Pfft.”

“…Why are you laughing?”

Oh Haeyoung grinned brightly.

“I never expected you to comfort me like this. You really can’t judge people by appearances, huh? You’ve got an unexpected side to you.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ve lost my mind after being here for so long.”

“Don’t say scary things like that. If a monster like you went crazy, our entire branch would be wiped out.”

“The Alpha-rank administrators are here. What’s the problem?”

Oh Haeyoung stared at him for a moment before speaking seriously.

“…Honestly, I can’t imagine you losing to anyone, Team Leader.”

Lee Taeseong tilted his head.

“You’re saying foolish things. You saw with your own eyes how many times I was killed by the illusions I created.”

Heavenly Demon-Slaying Blade, Han Yugwang.

The number of times he had been cut down by that man easily exceeded ten thousand. And the time it took to defeat him? A hundred years. Oh Haeyoung had witnessed every bit of it.

In fact, she might know the inner workings of Lee Taeseong’s body better than even he did.

“But in the end, you still won, didn’t you? You know what, Team Leader? When we first met, you were at Epsilon rank. But now, you’re already at Beta rank. On top of that, you’re the first-ever special task force captain in Tree’s history. Be honest with me. You’re not human, are you?”

She asked playfully, but Lee Taeseong couldn’t immediately answer. The more he recalled his past, the more he questioned whether he truly was human.

[490 years have passed.]

“I don’t know.”

“Huh? Come on, don’t take my joke so seriously. You’re obviously human… right?”

“You don’t sound too sure.”

“N-No! I really think you’re human! And even if you’re not, so what? There are plenty of non-human administrators in Tree. Right?”

“…Yeah. Thanks.”

[500 years have passed.]

Hearing that voice, Oh Haeyoung smiled.

“Wow, it’s already been 500 years? Only 200 years left. Hehe.”

“…Do you think you can endure it?”

She hesitated for a moment before answering in an uncertain voice.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m barely holding on as it is. But I’ll try my best. It’d be a waste to give up after coming this far… And besides, if I lose myself again, you’ll just show up like this and save me, right?”

“There won’t be a second time. So—”

It happened then.

A crack formed in the space around them, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps.

Click. Click.

As soon as he heard that sound, Lee Taeseong’s expression twisted.

“…How persistently you keep following me.”

Through the crack, a woman stepped into view, slowly making her way toward them.

An elegant figure.

Her graceful movements were reminiscent of a noblewoman from the medieval era, but the moment she appeared, Oh Haeyoung began trembling violently, convulsing as if she were having a seizure.

“U-Uuh! Uuuaaaaaah! Ugh, aaahhh!”

The woman wore a long, frilled red dress. A fan concealed everything but her eyes, and in her other hand, she held an ornate parasol.

Lee Taeseong recognized her from his memories.

【??-Rank Entity Containment Report】
No. ????
Entity Name: The Woman in the Red Dress (Tentative).
Rank: ??
Threat Level: ??

[355 years have passed.]

[356 years have passed.]

[357 years have passed.]

[358 years have passed.]

[359 years have passed.]

[360 years have passed.]

The surroundings had turned into an ocean—an endless, vast sea. The only difference was that instead of blue, it was entirely dyed red.

To be precise, it was the colour of blood.

In other words, it was a sea made of thick blood. It was as if the planet Earth itself had been turned into a bathtub filled with blood.

Oh Haeyoung was floating in the middle of that sea of blood.

“…Right… That’s right…”

Yes.

The reason I joined Tree. To track down the entity that did this to my family.

The one who killed my family was my own older brother.

My mother was Japanese.

I was mixed-race.

So were my siblings.

I had developed spiritual abilities from a young age.

I am Korean.

I am an Administrator.

I am Oh Haeyoung.

I manage entities.

I joined Tree to kill my brother.

I like animals.

I like spicy food.

There was a time when I resented being mixed-race.

There were times when my friends made fun of me because of my bloodline.

The truth is, I am easily scared.

Even now, I am afraid of my life as an Administrator.

I never wanted to join Tree.

I wanted to live a normal life.

I have never been in a relationship.

I…

I…

I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I.

What…?

Why am I doing this here? Where is this place? Why am I…? What am I…? What? I? No.

No. That’s right. I am an Administrator. I am Oh Haeyoung.

My parents are both dead. My youngest sibling is dead too.

Maybe it’s because I haven’t eaten. I’m hungry. For lunch, rather than omurice, maybe doing deadlifts would be better. Since working out makes my mood plummet anyway. I get lonely easily.

That’s why I hate killing people. Have you ever seen a dead body? Do you know how painful it is when the flesh is first torn? Seeing it in your mind and seeing it in reality—dying from inhaling coal gas—it’s not the same thing.

[370 years have passed.]

At seafood restaurants, they use sashimi knives to fillet fish. When you hear the slicing sound—scrape, scrape—humans feel a primal fear through their sense of hearing. They’re sensitive like that. That’s why sounds are scary. But pain—it’s unbearably painful, too.

How long has it been since I arrived at the Voice of the Heart? But this place… the entity… What was its name again? I suddenly can’t remember. Is it because I can’t breathe? Maybe it’s because my chest feels tight? What is it, what’s the problem? I have a chronic illness. I don’t know.

[380 years have passed.]

No.

Where is this place again? You don’t even know that? Idiot! Please, stop that sound! Why! Why! Why! I don’t want to fight anymore. Why do you keep fighting?

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. Mom, Dad, please don’t fight. Okay? It’s all my fault.

Do you know how much suffering I’ve been through because of you! Do you know why I’ve been suffering like this in a foreign land! It’s all because of you! It’s all because of you! If you hadn’t met that Japanese man, I wouldn’t have had to come to this wretched country… I would have lived a much happier life!

[390 years have passed.]

You btch! Did I hold a knife to your throat and threaten you? You followed me eagerly when things were going well, but now that the business has failed, you think your husband is just a worthless piece of trash? Huh? Btch. Let’s settle this today, then. Animals like you only listen when they’re beaten, don’t they? Something’s been fishy about you lately. You wh*re. Who’s the guy? Youngchul? Chulho? Pilsu? Who is it?!

[400 years have passed.]

Shut up. I can’t focus.

Okay, let’s start again. Now, where were we?

Ah, here.

My name is Oh Haeyoung.

I am an Administrator.

I…

Why am I here?

Ah, right.

My brother.

My brother killed our family. He took a kitchen knife and killed our parents. He killed my younger sibling. He even killed our pet dog. And I… for revenge…

Where? Where did I go? What am I doing right now? What was I thinking? Why am I even questioning this?

I haven’t been able to breathe properly for a while now.

Huh?

How long have I been thinking like this?

Why couldn’t I remember anything all this time?

I? I I? I am I I am I am? I I am I I am I I I am I I am I am I am I am I am I I I I I am I? I am I? What? What is this? What? What what what? What? What what? What?

…Splash!

Oh Haeyoung’s body slowly sank into the blood-red depths.

She did not struggle, nor did she move her hands.

Like someone who had given up on everything.

Like someone who had accepted death.

She simply let herself be enveloped by the crimson liquid. She did not even question why she was doing this.

Downward.

Just downward.

Sinking deep.

The inside of the bloodstained sea was empty.

“……”

How far down would she go?

Oh Haeyoung’s empty eyes stared into the bottomless abyss.

From the darkness, a writhing mass of flesh began to crawl upward, merging into a human-like form.

It was Oh Haesung, her youngest sibling.

The face was eerily similar to Oh Haesung’s, but with a gentle smile. A gaping hole was torn open in the right side of the torso, pink intestines spilling out in long strands.

“Sis… my body hurts so much. My side… my side… it hurts too much.”

Despite the entity’s call, Oh Haeyoung did not react. She merely watched.

It slithered toward her and wrapped itself around her body. Then, it opened its mouth wide. Inside, rows of saw-like teeth were tightly packed.

Crunch! Chomp!

It began devouring Oh Haeyoung’s flesh.

Even then, she did not react.

Another voice echoed from the side. This time, it took the form of her mother—but with two heads.

“I should never have given birth to you. I should never have come to this country. I should never have married that man. I should never have started any of this.

I loathe you.

I curse you.

I resent you.

I hate you.”

The mother-shaped entity also approached and began tearing into Oh Haeyoung’s flesh.

With two heads, it was even faster than the sibling.

[410 years have passed.]

The two tore into Oh Haeyoung’s entire body like piranhas driven mad by hunger. Her body was ripped apart, regenerated, ripped apart again, and regenerated once more in an endless cycle.

“It hurts.”

“I curse you.”

Their voices echoed from the torn remnants of her ears.

[Girl… Pull yourself together.]

The voice of the pendant’s owner, Ragnar Lodbrok, resonated through the air. For over a hundred years, he had been calling out to Oh Haeyoung, but she had closed herself off, trapped within the illusion she had created.

[Has she already broken…]

Even now, Oh Haeyoung’s consciousness was plummeting deeper into the abyss. Everything around her was a manifestation of her trauma, meaning that the only way to escape was for her to awaken on her own.

But her mind had long since collapsed. Thanks to Lee Taeseong’s help, she had barely managed to hold on, yet the relentless tide of darkness was too much to endure.

She wanted to forget but couldn’t.

She wanted to hide it, but it couldn’t be concealed.

It was memory.

Each time she recalled it, she felt like she was suffocating. But without recalling it, she lost all sense of direction.

Where there is the sun, there is the moon. Where there is light, there is darkness. Though she had always shown a bright demeanor, her shadow was far deeper than anyone realized.

And in the end, even Oh Haeyoung was consumed by her own pain, devoured by the abyss.

The deep ocean of darkness grinned wide.

Come.

Now, her endless fall into the eternal bottomless pit was, in the end, her own will.

She wanted this.

She wanted to be freed from this painful life.

She wanted to cast herself into the sea of oblivion and break free from the shackles of revenge that bound her.

She wanted to no longer witness the deaths of those she loved.

She desperately wished for it.

Oh Haeyoung had never had a choice in becoming a manager of the Tree.

The day her family was slaughtered, she decided to dedicate her life solely to revenge. Her very reason for existence had become the eradication of the “entity” that had murdered her family and dragged her into hell.

Was it truly her brother’s will?

Or had some “entity” made him do it?

If so, was her brother still alive?

There were too many truths about that day that she had yet to uncover.

But she was too weak to uncover them.

So, she fought with everything she had.

That was the summary of her life.

She had no regrets.

But she was still human. She couldn’t help but grow weary.

It was painful to witness the deaths of so many comrades. It was terrifying to see a colleague she had shared lunch with discovered as a cold corpse by evening.

The senior managers always emphasized that one had to grow accustomed to death to survive at the Tree, but she had never been able to accept it.

…She simply hated it.

…She no longer understood anything.

Why did she have to go through all this?

Why did she have to seek revenge?

Why did she have to stay alive?

Everything.

So.

“I’m done.”

With those words, Oh Haeyoung sank forever.

.
.
.

[421 years have passed.]

[422 years have passed.]

[423 years have passed.]

[424 years have passed.]

[425 years have passed.]

[430 years have passed.]

[435 years have passed.]

[440 years have passed.]

[450 years have passed.]

[460 years have pa—]

[Warning! Warning! An anomaly has been detected in this space.]

[Attempting to restore the space for normal operation…]

[Restoration deemed impossible. Proceeding with standard protocol.]

Crack!

A shattering sound, reminiscent of a bomb explosion, echoed as fractures formed in space itself.

Then, through the crack, a man stepped forward, wielding an black sword in one hand and a bloodstained sword in the other.

Step. Step.

Dressed in a black suit, the man muttered with an exhausted expression.

“…Finally found you.”

It had been 160 years since their last meeting.

“Oh Haeyoung.”

 

[350 years have passed.]

Oh Haeyoung collapsed onto the floor, her hands shaking. Her lips trembled as she desperately called out to her lifeless family.

“Mom……. Dad……. Haesung……”

Thump. Thump.

Her blood surged backward through her veins. Her mind, drained of all color like a blank sheet of paper, refused to accept the horrific scene imprinted on her retinas. She opened and closed her lips like a goldfish, trying to say something.

Her throat tightened. No voice came out.

Hot tears streamed ceaselessly down her cheeks.

Drip. Drip.

Tell me it’s not true. Tell me I saw it wrong. Tell me it’s a dream.

Please. Please. Please.

I’m begging you.

No, right? This is all a dream, right? I’m just having a terrible nightmare, right? When I wake up, it’ll all disappear, right? Right? Please. Please! Please! Please!

“……”

I… I can’t breathe.

I must not lose consciousness.

[351 years have passed.]

Yeah. Even now, I need to call an ambulance… an ambulance…

So……

[352 years have passed.]

To call an ambulance, the number……

“Haeyoung.”

“……”

“My sister.”

Oh Haeyoung’s gaze turned toward the owner of the voice.

A man drenched in blood held a kitchen knife in his right hand. The thick, clotted blood staining the blade screamed the answer to the question forming in her mind, but she stubbornly denied it.

‘That can’t be. No. There must be some misunderstanding. Of course. It’s him, after all…’

The man standing before her was Oh Haechan. Oh Haeyoung’s older brother. The eldest of the three siblings.

Currently studying at a seminary to become a priest, he had been famous in their neighborhood since childhood for his intelligence and kindness. He had never once raised his voice at his younger siblings, Oh Haeyoung and Oh Haesung. He had never once spoken a harsh word to their parents.

Wherever there was injustice, he was always the first to step in. He had never even had a single argument with his friends.

Even the school bullies didn’t bother with him. No matter how much they hit or tormented him, he would always smile and preach that violence was wrong. Even they eventually got tired of him.

He was the very embodiment of kindness, a saint drawn into reality. His parents, his siblings, his friends, his neighbours—everyone loved him.

And yet……

“A……ren’t I right?”

There’s no way he could have done this.

Oh Haechan ran a hand through his hair. Strands of jet-black hair, matted with blood, stuck together in clumps. His usual glasses were nowhere to be seen.

The brother she had seen every day now felt like a stranger. His bloodshot eyes turned to her.

“What?”

She couldn’t bring herself to speak.

[353 years have passed.]

Dad and Mom… Haesung…

She wanted to ask. She wanted to ask if it was really her brother who did this.

But that question did not come from her lips—it came from Oh Haechan’s.

“You’re wondering if I did this?”

“……”

“Puhahahaha!”

Suddenly, Oh Haechan burst into laughter.

The way his body shook with exaggerated laughter looked grotesque.

“My little Haeyoung. You’re so hopelessly naive. How do you plan to survive in this cruel world?”

“No…… you wouldn’t……. right? Oppa…… isn’t that kind of person.”

Oh Haechan’s expression hardened. The voice that followed was something entirely different from the one she had always known.

“That kind of person? And what kind of person is that?”

“……”

“I asked you, what kind of person is that, you fucking bitch.”

Never—Not once in his life had he ever sworn. Not once had he ever spoken harshly.

Yet now, with a face twisted in cruelty, he spat out curses at her.

“You fucking bitch. You’re nothing but a worthless insect that wouldn’t even be satisfying to chew up and spit out. Who the fuck do you think you are to judge me? Who do you think you are?!”

A thick, suffocating malice filled the air.

Step.

Oh Haechan took a step toward her.

The kitchen knife in his grip gleamed coldly.

“You. You worthless bitch. I’ve always hated that attitude of yours. Acting all innocent and nice while taking everything you could get, pushing all the annoying shit onto me. You fucking bitch.”

“O……Oppa.”

“And on top of that, you’re so goddamn stupid you’re completely useless. If you’re born into a shitty family, you should at least be good-looking or have some brains. What the hell are you even good for?”

“……”

That…… is…….

It’s not my brother.

That person is not Oh Haechan.

I’m not rationalizing to deny this situation.

That is not my brother.

Oh Haeyoung was certain.

It’s just that the shell is the same. Something different had taken root inside.

“Who are you?”

“Who do you think I am, you damn bitch? Your brother Oh Haechan, who killed your mother, father, and Haesung. It’s me, Haeyoung. Oh Haechan. Can’t you recognize your brother? Huh? Hee-hee-hee-hee-hee! I’m your brother, I’m your brother! Kekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekekek.”

A chill ran down her spine.

Oh Haechan took another step.

“Ah, this is so fucking funny. Look at you freezing up. It’s such a shame. What a waste. It would have been way more fun if I had torn those maggots apart in front of you… right?”

“Who…”

At that moment.

With a clunk, the door opened, and several men in black suits rushed in.

Oh Haechan, with a twisted expression, licked his lips as he looked at Haeyoung.

“Tch. Just when it was getting interesting… What a disappointment. Well, it can’t be helped. I’ll see you next time, little sister.”

Crash!

Oh Haechan charged toward the window, broke the glass, and jumped out, disappearing.

One of the men in black suits spoke.

“Unidentified entity has escaped.”

“Estimated grade?”

“It’s presumed to be at least delta-grade or higher.”

“Delta-grade or higher possessed entity… This is going to be difficult. Tch.”

The one wearing the highest-ranking suit among the men in black looked at Haeyoung.

“Is she a survivor?”

“Yes. She seems to be the second daughter.”

The man had already witnessed the gruesome scene unfolding here.

The family massacre.

Since he had seen it firsthand, he couldn’t be in his right mind. As a tree manager, he had witnessed such scenes multiple times, but most survivors of these events couldn’t bear the shock and ended up with tragic outcomes.

It was truly unfortunate.

“Poor thing. She’s the only one who survived, she won’t last long.”

“Did you call the cleanup team?”

“Yes. They are expected to arrive in 10 minutes.”

“Alright. Let’s head out. This was a bust.”

One of the subordinates asked.

“What should we do about this girl? We should probably erase her memories, right?”

The superior seemed to ponder for a moment.

Then.

“Who are you guys?”

“…”

“Well, about that guy who just disappeared. That’s not our brother, you know? But do you guys know what that was? Where is it from?”

The subordinate asked with a troubled look.

“Team Leader. We should just erase her memory right now.”

“Wait a minute.”

The team leader’s gaze turned to Haeyoung. A normal girl, with no aura. Just an ordinary high school girl of that age.

But for some reason.

Could it be because she lost her family to an entity when she was young?

The leader’s mind changed.

“We come from ‘The Tree.’”

“Team Leader!”

Haeyoung whispered the two words as though to engrave them in her mind.

“The Tree…”

“Yes. It’s the organization that manages all kinds of monstrosities in this world. I am a manager there.”

“If I enter the Tree, can I find what made my brother like that, my brother?”

“It’s possible. That entity will eventually be contained in the Tree as well.”

The empty look in Haeyoung’s eyes began to shine again.

“How can I get into this Tree?”

The manager answered.

“You… You can’t enter.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re just an ordinary person with no abilities. Of course, there are ordinary employees who work in administration, but don’t you want to track down the entity that made your brother like this?”

“Yes…”

“Then you have to become a manager like us.”

As the manager spoke, he waved his hand in the air, and a magical circle of rainbow-colored light filled the room.

Seeing that brilliant and wondrous sight, Haeyoung felt more of a chill than admiration.

Because the entity right in front of her looked almost no different from her brother, an entity of sorts.

“If you don’t become a manager, you will never even see a single hair of an entity. You won’t even see that entity you call your brother. But to become a manager, you need to have a special kind of power. You can’t deal with entities unless you’re an ‘Awakened’.”

“…”

“Do you want to become a manager?”

Haeyoung shook her head.

“Ah… no. I want revenge. I want to kill that ‘entity’ that made my family like that, with my own hands.”

“It’s not that there’s no way. There are both innate and acquired Awakened individuals. The number is not small. If you want to join the Tree and avenge your family… then look for a way to awaken yourself.”

“Acquired awakening… Thank you…”

“There’s no need to thank me. You’ll most likely be dead before or after becoming a manager. I’m just showing you how to die quickly.”

As the manager turned to leave, Haeyoung urgently asked.

“Could you… tell me your name?”

The manager hesitated for a moment and then spoke.

“It’s Choi Woosik.”

Then he turned his back and quickly exited the room.

However, there was one thing that the manager, Choi Woosik, had overlooked.

He thought of Haeyoung as a normal, ordinary person, but she was far from ordinary from the start.

Once in her room, Haeyoung opened the box and grasped the pendant inside.

“Grandpa Ghost. Can you hear me?”

[….]

“You said you wanted to take over my body.”

[….]

“I’ll grant your wish. Honestly, I’ve been ignoring you up until now, but I don’t think I need to anymore. Whether you’re a ghost, a demon, or a devil… I need power.”

[….]

The pendant, which Haeyoung had picked up from a curio shop when she was young, had been the source of a voice she couldn’t explain. She had tried to ignore it, thinking she was just hearing things…

“So give me power.”

[Are you ready to go to Valhalla, girl?]