Alone with the Calamity
The inside of the one-room was, in a word, a single guy's bachelor pad.
Of course, its owner was a woman now.
A sink piled high with dirty dishes. Training pants scattered across the floor. A rumpled blanket tossed haphazardly on the bed. On the desk sat three empty convenience store lunchbox containers stacked up, next to a large dog food bag folded in half and propped upright.
The lived-in vibe emanating from this seven-pyeong studio was overwhelming. It felt less like the hideout of a Calamity-grade anomaly and more like the room of a college freshman two weeks into solo living.
"Ah, hold on a sec. Let me clean up a bit."
The girl sprang into bustling action.
Though she called it cleaning, it was really just shoving everything into one corner of the room. She balled up the training pants and chucked them onto the bed, moved the lunchbox containers to the sink, and roughly folded the blanket—or more like balled it up.
Lee Seojin watched the scene and thought:
This woman is genuinely ordinary.
An awakener who neutralized a Calamity-grade. The subject of a Management Bureau report. The key figure in an operation where seven A-rank hunters stood by as backup.
And that person was now tossing training pants onto the bed while saying, "Sorry, it's kinda messy, huh?"
"Please, have a seat. There's only one chair, so I'll sit on the floor."
"No, I'll sit on the floor too."
Lee Seojin sat on the floor. Kneeling formally—it was habit. Whether on-site or in the office, she always knelt when sitting. That way, she could spring up instantly if needed.
The girl sat across from her.
And Heukgu flopped down beside the girl. Right between her and Lee Seojin. Like he was drawing a boundary line.
The way he looked at Lee Seojin had softened a little from earlier at the door. But his gaze was still fixed. As if he'd react the moment she moved.
The child was half-hidden under the bed behind the girl, glaring at Lee Seojin. Only her eyes peeked out from between the blankets.
Lee Seojin pulled out the document envelope. She consciously gripped it firmly to keep her hands from shaking.
"I've brought two things: a temporary ID card and the application forms for living support funds for awakening accident victims."
She took out a card and a stack of papers from the envelope and placed them in front of the girl.
The girl picked up the card.
"...Is this a real ID?"
"Yes. It's a temporary issuance with a six-month validity period. You can convert it to a formal ID within that time."
"Can I use it starting today?"
"Yes."
The girl's expression changed. How to describe it? Like someone lost in the desert finding water.
"Thank you. Really."
"It's just my job."
Lee Seojin replied. Job. Yeah. A job. This whole situation—a Calamity-grade anomaly glaring at her from a meter away—was just a job.
The girl unfolded the support fund forms and started filling them out. Pen in hand, one box at a time.
She paused at the name field.
The girl stared down at the form, pen in hand, her face hesitant.
Lee Seojin glanced at the papers. The name field was still blank. The temporary ID had a name printed on it, though.
"For the name, please write your legal name as listed on the temporary ID—"
The moment Lee Seojin reached for the card to check.
"Ahh!"
The girl snatched it away. Practically yanked it from Lee Seojin's hand.
"I-I'll just use this. I'll use this."
"...Ah, okay."
The girl's ears were red. Her cheeks too.
"...My real name's kinda... you know."
"Pardon?"
"It's a guy's name originally, and it doesn't match this body anymore. Embarrassing."
Lee Seojin didn't know how to respond.
The psychological adjustment process for subjects whose gender changes due to awakening accidents. The line from the report floated to mind. What was a single sentence on paper looked like this in reality: a girl with flushed cheeks clutching the ID to her chest.
"...Take your time filling it out."
It was all she could say.
The girl nodded and turned her back to Lee Seojin to fill out the form. She covered her hand when writing the name.
That's when Heukgu licked the girl's back once. She pushed him away with a "Hey, that tickles!" His tail wagged.
A Calamity-grade anomaly licking the girl's back.
And the girl laughing that it tickled.
She never imagined she'd witness a scene like this.
Once the paperwork was done, utterly mundane conversation followed.
Lee Seojin's original goal was intel gathering. Clues on the subject's abilities, her relationship with the anomalies, the scope of her perception distortion. She needed to steer the talk naturally.
But the girl spoke first.
"Seojin, how long have you been a hunter?"
"...About ten years."
"Whoa, that's a long time. Must be tough."
It had been ages since anyone asked if it was tough.
Usually it was "Cool" or "Amazing," or "You must make bank." Few asked if it was hard. Even family had stopped at some point.
"...It's fine."
"Doesn't look fine."
The girl tilted her head.
Lee Seojin prided herself on her poker face. Ten years of practice. So what was this girl seeing?
"...This is just my face."
"Ah, sorry! Not what I meant."
The girl waved her hands.
"Just... you look tired. Want some tea? Oh, right, I think we have some."
The girl shot up and stood in front of the kitchen cabinet.
The cabinet was a bit high. At her height, she couldn't reach the top shelf.
*Nngh.*
She stretched on tiptoes, arm extended—but fell short by about three centimeters. She jumped once. No dice. Jumped again. Her fingertips just grazed it.
As Lee Seojin stood to help, the girl yelled "Got it!" and barely grabbed the handle, yanking the door open.
A few teabags and a bag of snacks tumbled out.
"Only green tea—okay?"
"...Yes."
While the water boiled, the girl returned with the snack bag. It was puffed up. Still sealed.
"Have some while you wait. It was my favorite stash."
The girl gripped it with both hands and yanked.
It wouldn't tear.
She pulled harder.
Then—
*Pop.*
The bag burst, contents exploding everywhere.
Snack crumbs rained down on Lee Seojin's lap, the floor, even Heukgu's back.
And Lee Seojin's right hand was already inside her coat. Reflex. Her fingers brushed the hilt.
Of course, she stopped the instant she realized.
What she saw: snack bits scattered on the floor. The girl standing there blankly, bag in hand. And—
Heukgu with his nose buried in the floor, licking them up.
Tail wagging. Frantically. Voraciously. Not missing a single piece.
The child crawled out from under the bed and popped a crumb into her mouth with her hand.
"Ahaha..."
The girl laughed awkwardly.
"S-sorry. I must've pulled too hard."
Lee Seojin slowly withdrew her hand from inside the coat. Naturally.
...Was that fleeting sense of patheticness her imagination?
"It's fine. I'll have some too."
Lee Seojin picked a crumb from her lap and ate it. Onion flavor. Crispy.
The girl stared at the empty bag. Eighty percent of the snacks were already in Heukgu's belly.
"Ah..."
Her face twisted oddly. Guess they really were her favorites.
"Hold on. I'll run to the convenience store."
The girl jumped up.
"...Pardon?"
"No other snacks left, and Heukgu ate them all. Be right back—the store's right out front."
Lee Seojin asked blankly.
"Leaving me here alone?"
She regretted it instantly. Too honest a question.
But the girl seemed oblivious to the implication.
"I'll be quick~ Heukgu's good, no worries."
She slipped on her slippers and headed to the door, grabbing her wallet.
"Kong-i, I'll be right back. Be nice to the guest."
Kong-i nodded. Who knows if she understood.
The front door opened. Closed.
Slipper sounds faded down the stairs.
Gone.
Left in the one-room: Lee Seojin, Heukgu, and Kong-i.
Dead silent.
Only the bubbling from the boiling water in the kitchen.
Heukgu lifted his head.
Apparently he'd polished off every last crumb. With nothing left to lick, he slowly turned to Lee Seojin.
The same eyes as before.
The ones he'd restrained with the girl around. Glowing red irises. Contracted pupils. Fangs visible between parted lips.
No sound. No growl.
Just staring.
Kong-i stared too. Out from under the bed, sitting on the floor. Empty eyes. Emotionless.
Both anomalies fixed on Lee Seojin.
The space emptied of its buffer—the girl.
A bead of sweat trickled down Lee Seojin's back.
Her mouth went dry. She wanted a sip of something. But even reaching for the teacup beside her could be risky. No sudden moves.
Don't move. Don't provoke. Breathe slow.
Everything from ten years of training mobilized. Surviving a Calamity-grade. Page one of the manual.
'No unnecessary movements. Don't avert your gaze. And never, ever show your back.'
Heukgu's eyes pierced hers. Lee Seojin didn't look away. She couldn't. Averting eyes signaled flight, and flight started the chase.
10 seconds.
20 seconds.
30 seconds.
Time without end.
The kettle in the kitchen boiled over. The lid rattled.
The child stood and toddled to the kitchen. Barefoot patter. She seemed to be turning off the stove. Too short to reach the knob, she dragged over a chair and climbed up.
*Click.* The flame died.
Across the street, on the rooftop of the opposite building.
The moment the girl stepped out, the screen's atmosphere shifted completely. Nothing technical had changed. Same camera, same quality, same angle.
But anyone watching could tell.
Heukgu stared straight at the camera. Or rather, at Lee Seojin wearing it. Even through the low-res feed, that gaze pierced.
Team members' breathing grew ragged.
Han Jeongsu grabbed the comms.
"Lee Seojin."
No response.
"Lee Seojin. Status report."
3 seconds.
5 seconds.
Only breathing came through the comms. Lee Seojin's. Shallow, controlled. The breathing of someone who couldn't speak.
Han Jeongsu knew what it meant. She was doing her best—nothing at all.
"Target's gone outside. What the hell happened."
Han Jeongsu wasn't expecting an answer. Just reminding her the line was live.
Then, faintly, Lee Seojin's voice leaked through.
"...Senior."
And the next instant—
The screen filled with black.