Taeseong awoke, tried to lift his eyelids, but his vision remained shrouded in darkness.
Only then did he realize that he was bound, blindfolded, and locked in an isolation chamber.
“A dream…?”
The past memories he had relived in his dream were vivid, as if they had happened just yesterday. The reason his days as a soldier resurfaced was undoubtedly due to the effects of consuming Ignost’s Essence.
He had always known he had been a soldier, but now, after experiencing those memories firsthand, the scattered fragments of his past were finally starting to fall into place.
The sensation of gripping a pistol’s trigger, the feeling of slicing through an enemy’s flesh with a knife—those memories were still sharp.
The tension of the battlefield.
The gunfire that battered his eardrums, the acrid scent of gunpowder.
The self he knew as the returnee Lee Taeseong was overlapping with the self he had been as a soldier.
I was… a soldier.
And I was a commander who led many subordinates.
“Master Sergeant Choi Sang-hyuk…”
HID Special Operations Task Force, Counterterrorism Unit, Deputy Team Leader—Master Sergeant Choi Sang-hyuk.
Notoriously difficult to deal with, yet one of the few people Taeseong had entrusted his back to without a second thought.
His comrade-in-arms.
What kind of life was he leading now?
When the opportunity arose, Taeseong would have to ask Yu Gi-jun about his whereabouts.
Another name surfaced in his mind.
Lieutenant Hong Si-jin.
A soldier who had excelled in multiple fields yet was infamous within the unit for his innate bloodlust.
He never listened to anyone—except for Taeseong.
He had been like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at any moment.
Taeseong also wondered what had become of him.
Now that the “leash” called Lee Taeseong was gone, how was the “mad dog” living?
With his exceptional talent, it wouldn’t be surprising if he had climbed the ranks and become a high-ranking military official by now.
As these thoughts churned in his mind, a wave of emptiness washed over him.
“Right…”
Here he was, locked in an isolation chamber. Who was he to be worrying about anyone else?
This wasn’t the time to be lost in such idle thoughts.
“The disciplinary committee, huh…”
He already knew.
He knew exactly how severe the consequences of his actions would be.
To stop Sooah’s rampage, he had acted on his own.
Though he had spared lives, he had still cut down dozens of administrators.
Everything he had done had been against orders—solely decided and executed on his own.
A clear case of insubordination.
If this had been the military, he would have been court-martialed immediately.
Or, more likely, executed on the spot.
If he had been the commanding officer in that situation, he would have ordered a kill-on-sight without hesitation.
But this was Tree.
The hidden side of the world.
An mysterious organization that managed all supernatural anomalies across the globe.
Unlike the military, which operated on power and politics, Tree’s decisions were always shrouded in mystery.
It was impossible to predict what criteria or reasoning guided their judgments.
Still…
‘They won’t let this slide easily.’
Taeseong had already prepared himself for the worst possible outcome.
And that was…
“Elimination.”
They might no longer see Lee Taeseong as an administrator, but as a dangerous entity.
His life now hinged on the disciplinary committee’s verdict.
If necessary, he would have to plan his escape.
Of course, that would mean being hunted by Tree for the rest of his life, but he wasn’t about to sit back and let them execute him.
There was also the matter of Sooah.
Even if he managed to escape, they could always use her as a hostage against him.
That was the real problem.
“This is frustrating.”
Letting out a short sigh, Taeseong deliberately shifted the direction of his thoughts.
His strange ability—
He needed to analyze Devour.
He already understood why he possessed this power.
The Primordial Wolf.
A mythical wolf sealed away by the gods.
In his memories, he had received a divine authority from that awe-inspiring creature.
That much was clear.
But what came after was the real issue.
From experience, he had learned that consuming an entity’s Essence allowed him to acquire a portion of its power—and recover forgotten memories.
This raised a question.
Why did he recall memories every time he devoured something?
What was the link between Devour and his memories?
Did a specific pattern exist between the two?
No.
Looking at the data so far, there was no discernible pattern.
Sometimes, he recalled memories from another world.
Other times, his past as a soldier resurfaced.
And on occasion, he saw ordinary moments spent with his family.
Thinking back, the first time he wielded a sword in a spar against Oh Haeyoung, a memory had surfaced.
Though, strictly speaking, it wasn’t his memory.
It belonged to the human he had devoured.
That had been an exception.
He had recalled a memory without consuming an Essence.
How could he explain this?
Was it simply luck—his body reacting instinctively?
Or had the desperate will of the man he had consumed somehow awakened the memory within him?
Digging too deep with his limited knowledge would only give him a headache.
“…Fuck. I don’t know.”
Lying flat on the floor, Taeseong clenched his fists.
As expected, he couldn’t exert his usual strength.
Whatever material these restraints were made of, once they were locked in place, they were impossible to remove by force.
“If it were pure flame…”
That was when it happened.
Clunk.
The door creaked open.
Step. Step.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the room.
‘Two people? Executioners?’
The unidentified figures approached him.
His vision was still nothing but darkness, yet his heightened senses told him that someone was now standing right in front of him.
However, they exuded no hostility.
So Taeseong remained still, waiting for their next move.
“…….”
Taeseong could feel someone’s hand reaching toward his face.
Soon, the blindfold covering his eyes was removed.
As if a curtain had been drawn back, brilliant white light poured in through the gap. An intense urge to rub his eyes surged within him, but unfortunately, that was an unattainable dream.
As time passed, his flickering vision gradually became clearer. When Taeseong’s eyes finally regained normal function, they reflected the face of a young woman.
“…Sooah?”
“……”
Despite Taeseong calling her name, Sooah did not respond. She merely pursed her small lips and awkwardly averted her gaze.
Taeseong’s eyes shifted to the woman standing beside her. It was Yukina, a Beta-ranked administrator, who was glaring at him with a cold expression.
“Don’t mind me. Just have your conversation.”
Her voice was as frigid as ice.
For some reason, Taeseong sensed hostility in her gaze, but that wasn’t what mattered right now.
“Sooah.”
“…Oppa.”
“Yes, it’s me. Are you okay? You’re not hurt anywhere? What happened with the disciplinary committee? How did you know I was here? You’re really okay, right?”
Taeseong fired off questions like a machine gun.
Now that he had finally seen the person he had been most worried about, relief washed over him, and his words overflowed uncontrollably.
Sooah, watching him quietly, murmured with deep emotion.
“…It wasn’t a dream. You really came back, Oppa.”
“Yeah… It took too long, didn’t it? I’m sorry for making you wait so long, Sooah.”
Lee Sooah shook her head.
“It’s… okay now. It took a little… no, a lot longer than expected, but in the end, you came back… and even saved my life.”
“That’s only natural. We’re family.”
“…Th-Thank you, Oppa.”
Sooah still seemed awkward, as if struggling to find the right words.
Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be any issues with her memory. Her complexion was good, suggesting she was in decent health.
At that moment, Yukina interjected.
“Lee Sooah. There isn’t much time. Get to the point and keep it brief.”
“…Yes, Master.”
In truth, this was the first proper conversation they had shared.
Taeseong found it irritating that she was interfering with their reunion.
He asked, “Do you really have to ruin this rare family reunion?”
“Don’t speak so informally, you Delta-ranked administrator. You should be grateful that you’re even allowed to have this conversation. Just because you cut down a few lowly administrators, do you think you’re above everything? You don’t know your place.”
A tense silence followed.
The two stared at each other without speaking.
Feeling the shift in atmosphere, Sooah hurriedly intervened.
“Master is right. The only reason I can even talk to you right now is because she helped. Normally, it would be impossible to visit an administrator in isolation.”
The ‘Special Entity Containment Room’ was originally off-limits to anyone except enforcers and a select few administrators. However, as a high-ranking administrator and head of the management division, Yukina had personally convinced the enforcers by agreeing to supervise the visit, making this meeting possible.
“…I see. Thank you.”
“Shut up and get on with it.”
Taeseong swallowed his anger and burned Yukina’s face into his memory.
He had no choice but to let it go for now, but that didn’t mean this moment would be forgotten.
Her overbearing attitude, her arrogant gaze, the way she looked down on others—it all left a bad taste in his mouth.
Turning away from her, Taeseong focused on Sooah.
“So, Sooah. What was the result of the disciplinary committee? Did things go well?”
“…Yeah. Thanks to Master speaking to the higher-ups on my behalf, I only got six months of reduced pay. Since I didn’t actually harm any administrators and only damaged the containment room, they took that into account.”
Taeseong knew the truth.
She had been classified as a red-level dangerous entity.
To think that they had originally issued a kill order but now settled for just a pay cut?
From Taeseong’s perspective, this was incredibly fortunate, but he couldn’t help but find it suspicious.
‘Does this mean that crazy woman has that much influence?’
“I’m just glad it ended well.”
“…Yeah.”
Silence settled over them again.
Both Taeseong and Sooah had countless questions they wanted to ask.
How had she been living all this time? How had she ended up experiencing dimensional transfer? What kind of life had she lived in the other world? Had she ever missed her family?
He wanted to ask everything right away, but time was slipping away too quickly.
‘There will be plenty of opportunities to talk in the future. For now…’
Ever since he first arrived here, there was one thing he had resolved to say, no matter what.
Sooah, looking anxious, glanced at the watch on her wrist before finally speaking.
“…Do you know that both of our parents passed away?”
Taeseong’s face darkened as he nodded.
“…Yeah. I heard they got into an accident while I was gone.”
“An accident… Yeah, I guess you could call it that. A truck driver who fell asleep at the wheel ran a red light. That bastard is the reason our parents died.”
“……”
“But, you know… I’ve been thinking about it a lot. No matter how much I think about it, something feels off.”
“What do you mean?”
Sooah hesitated for a moment, lips slightly parted, before speaking with a serious expression.
“I think our parents were murdered.”