Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Special Task Force, Meeting Again
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* * *
* * *
“…A dangerous child.”
Cough, cough.
Someone spat out the words amid a torrent of blood.
“Must be lonely and all alone.”
A sly smile crept across their face.
For a guy on the verge of death.
“You’ll be abandoned. Maybe you already have been. After all, your power doesn’t exist in this world.”
When a slowly rising finger finally touched his chest, the following words sounded like a curse.
“You know it yourself, don’t you, child swept up in the rift.”
Despite the venom in their words, their eyes gazed at him with a strange pity.
* * *
“……!”
Seonal’s eyes flew wide open. His face trembling, he whipped his head to the left, then desperately to the right, blinking hard.
“…Huff.”
Only then did he exhale, feeling the cold sweat soaking his forehead.
‘…Psycho.’
His heart pounded like a drum, and he felt a curse bubbling up unbidden.
‘Why the hell am I dreaming that crap?’
Seonal squeezed his eyes shut again, steadying his breath, opening them, repeat.
His vision spun wildly, so he counted to ten before slowly sitting up and extending his hand.
The door creaked open, and a glass of water from the kitchen floated over into his grasp. Only after gulping it down did his mind begin to clear.
‘Morning…’
He glanced at the time.
5:55 a.m.
‘Yeah. Starting the day with that garbage dream. Great mood-setter.’
It had been over a year already.
Wouldn’t it be nice if everything wrapped up neatly with a “happily ever after”?
But reality didn’t care what happened—it just kept rolling on.
Same for him.
Thud.
Seonal set the cup down on the table and stared blankly at the living room beyond the door.
Today was the day.
The day he’d be teaming up with the Special Task Force.
He opened a drawer and eyed the thick stack of pill packets.
‘…Should I take ’em, or not?’
After a brief hesitation, he rubbed his dry face and let out a long sigh.
Haa.
Ding-ding-ding. Ding-ding.
His phone alarm blared, and Seonal shut it off as he rose from his seat.
‘I’ll decide when I get there.’
* * *
“Good…”
Seonal started to speak but faltered at the grim complaints and heavy office vibe.
Talk about different from usual.
“What’s with everyone? Something happen?”
Edinal spun around in Seonal’s chair and raised her voice.
“What do you mean? Today’s the day you’re teaming up with the Special Task Force.”
“What, am I a kid or something?”
Seonal cracked a light joke and chuckled.
“Even leaving that aside, after what went down yesterday, it’s hard to just brush it off.”
Irang crossed her arms and fixed him with a steady gaze.
A guy who’d seemed like an unbreakable fortress had turned into a pill bug that’d die underfoot—and how could that not worry her?
“Ah. I’m fine.”
When Seonal brushed it off again, Tersha furrowed her brow slightly.
“Your snacks are switching to cakes slathered in whipped cream from now on.”
“…Pardon?”
The out-of-left-field comment made Seonal fiddle with his shoulder awkwardly.
Whatever it was, he felt like he’d messed up big time.
“It’s because you didn’t get to see your own face yesterday. I’d tag along if I could.”
“…Ah, not me. I’d just get motion sick.”
Unlike Tersha, Irang took several steps back.
Worrying about him was one thing—going along with the Special Task Force was another.
She hated the idea with a passion.
“I’m fine now…”
“What if you’re not, Seonal?”
Edinal asked, brow furrowed.
Even her leg-jiggling seemed to scream her displeasure.
“Then I’ll come right back. I don’t wanna grind my body to dust either.”
“Right? You’re not like that, are you, Seonal?”
“Yeah. What’s the point? Hospital records and card charges—that’s all that’d come of it.”
“Exactly. Gotta take care of yourself.”
“So don’t worry. I’ll dip in, do what needs doing, and dip out.”
“…Hah.”
Edinal sighed.
She stood and approached Seonal.
“I trust you, Seonal. But I don’t trust hot-headed you.”
“Hey, come on. Whether I flare up or not, it’s still me.”
“That’s why…”
“Hello, everyone.”
Dodo poked his head through the quietly opening door.
He stuck out his tongue a bit and glanced around.
“…Why’s everyone so serious all of a sudden? Did I keep you waiting?”
“You’re not late, Dodo. Early, if anything. Probationaries can roll in ten minutes late. You’re still an apprentice.”
Edinal hurried over to Dodo like she’d never fretted over Seonal.
“Then can I show up ten minutes late too…”
“Why would you, Seonal?”
Edinal’s smile vanished, and Seonal’s words caught in his throat.
“Sleep well? I’ve been dying to ask about yesterday.”
Tersha approached Dodo with a bright smile.
“Thanks for yesterday. Dodo was so happy! Those waffles were amazing!”
“Then let’s hit the ground running today. Lots to do—think you’re up for it?”
Tersha shook her clenched fists lightly.
“Dodo can do it! It’d be great if Dodo could practice typing, but home’s… Ugh.”
Dodo paused, shaking his head side to side, then planted his front paws firmly.
“Nope. Dodo came early to practice!”
‘…Right, no home.’
Seonal recalled Dodo casually mentioning it over the weekend while retrieving Abion the dullahan’s head.
No place to live.
It was common for spirit beast races, so Seonal hadn’t pressed. They were infamous for shunning human company anyway.
“…Good on you.”
Seonal turned at the voice from behind.
Irang pretended to review files nonchalantly, and it looked pretty natural.
‘Yeah, pretty impressive.’
Seonal felt a swell of satisfaction watching Dodo dash around while still making eye contact. His lips curved up at the sight of the shrinking magic chair tailored to Dodo’s height, the keyboard sized for those paws, the screen adjusted to his eye level—all conjured by magic.
‘Love it. That freshness. Magic’s the best.’
Gazing at the clear sky, Seonal magicked open the break room door and poured himself some coffee.
“…Woooow.”
Leaving Dodo’s awe behind, Seonal glanced around. No sign of him today. He safely transferred the steaming mug to his hand.
Slurp.
“Ahh…”
Perfect.
This was morning bliss.
Slurp.
Mid-sip, he spotted Tutun plastered to the window, and Seonal choked.
“…Cough, cough!”
Seonal squinted at Tutun.
‘This guy’s straight-up a coffee ghost.’
* * *
“…Um, S-Senior? No, Assistant Manager?”
Park Namwoo slurped his water while eyeing Yan’s incessantly jiggling leg.
“Why’re you shaking your leg like a maniac? And…”
Namwoo turned to Hopen, who clutched his tail with one hand while gripping and releasing his glass with the other. His eyes narrowed involuntarily.
Lizardman thing? Whatever—it just looked extra annoying.
“Why’re you holding your tail like that, Senior Hopen? You’re both acting so weird I can’t even be in the same room.”
Namwoo stood abruptly, irritation flaring. What was with them?
Security being what it was in this bunker-like café, sharing space felt unbearable.
He headed for the door but froze as a man entered through the gap.
The guy left an impression you couldn’t shake after one glance—intensely so.
Near-white hair made Namwoo’s jaw drop slightly.
“Hello.”
Seonal’s bright smile caught Namwoo off guard, and he stammered a reply.
“Ah, h-hello!”
His tongue tripped over itself.
No way the guy from last time was the Special Task Force legend everyone whispered about.
He’d never caught a name—folks avoided saying it—but the exploits? He’d heard plenty.
“Been a while since last time.”
“S-Sorry for my rudeness. I didn’t realize you were a senior back then, so I…”
“I was Special Task Force, sure, but senior? Nah. No need for that. I’m Complaints Division now.”
Seonal drew the line with a smile, his gaze shifting to Yan and Hopen.
Good ears on both—they’d hear every word.
“Hopen, bro.”
At his name, Hopen shot up, arms wide for a hug.
“Cut the creepy stuff.”
Hopen dropped his arms and rubbed his bald, scaleless head at Seonal’s blunt rebuff.
“Was I… too much?”
“Yeah.”
No hard feelings toward Hopen, really. He’d been out on personal business back then.
“W-Well… yeah. Got carried away being happy to see you. Sit, uh, sit.”
Namwoo gaped at Hopen’s flustered flailing—the stoic senior was gone, replaced by someone else entirely.
Yan scowled at him, but Seonal met his eyes readily.
He’d figured it’d be different from yesterday, but his gut still churned.
“Nice to meet you, Yan.”
“…Hmph. At least you bother with greetings.”
“I heard the dream demon got killed. Saw the files on the incident, but plenty of mysteries.”
Seonal took a seat.
He’d gotten the docs ahead of time.
‣Dream demon brutally murdered by unknown assailant.
That was the whole case.
This dream demon tied into the fraternal twin vampire incident—coincidentally overlapping.
A werewolf in a crowded street had pulled a bomb for suicide. Not a small deal.
The wolf was under a domination charm, cast by this very succubus dream demon, now the victim.
A plain office worker.
No recent issues, no workplace drama—actually, known for diligence.
‘And another case links up.’
Monday, a ping from Meive.
―About that favor. Busy with an emergency patient, but results match.
The match rattled him a bit.
Recently, werewolves framing Complaints Division had staged complaints, prepping a charm vial for wolfing out. He’d asked her to check if it matched this victim’s power.
Cops said tests showed no specific power influence.
In this mess, how could Special Task Force link the cases? So the files were just victim intel.
‘…Yeah, makes sense they wouldn’t know.’
Seonal knew exactly why Special Task Force was requesting Complaints Division’s help.
They moved only on cop or Complaints requests.
Cops and Complaints had more base data—easiest way to get it was cooperation.
“What mysteries? Wait—want something? Affogato?”
Yan’s question hit Seonal’s stomach queasily.
Still tough facing him, huh.
“Just water.”
Yan stood without another word at the curt reply.
“…Seonal.”
As Yan exited, Hopen hesitated before speaking. Seonal looked up.
“Yeah.”
“Mind if I ask how you’ve been?”
“More importantly, why didn’t you make assistant manager? Hell, team leader was on the table.”
“What, with my face?”
Hopen’s bitter smile twisted into a forced grin.
Slurp.
Namwoo sipped water, eyes wide, curiosity burning—but he held it in.
Their bad blood was obvious.
“Bro.”
Seonal spoke, and Hopen bowed his head.
“Don’t sweat it. I’m never going back to Special Task Force.”
“But Seonal, everything’s changed. Not just the old team leader—all the jerks who hated you got purged. New team leader’s doing. Said you could come back anytime.”
“So what’s changed?”
Seonal’s gaze chilled as he stared at Hopen.
Too late to fix—he’d shouldered it all and got booted.
“Nothing. Tell ’em to drop it.”
Thud!
Yan appeared through the sliding door, scowl leading. He slammed it shut, yanked a chair, and sat.
“Ever wonder why your rumors won’t die?”
“Yeah. How could I not?”
Seonal scoffed.
“It’s this new team leader of yours…”
“So what? Sounds fake. Showboating? What, should I thank them?”
“S-Seonal.”
Hopen tried to intervene, but Yan gripped his shoulder and shook his head.
“…No. Sorry for bringing it up.”
Yan backed off.
He’d seen Seonal’s meds last time, asked a pharmacist friend.
Nerve stabilizers. Yan had sobered up fast.
Stimuli were bad, they said—so he could hold back, over and over.
Until this nagging mess got cleared.
“If you get it, skip the personal crap. It’s unpleasant.”
Seonal dropped his fidgeting hand from his bag.
“Fine. No more during work.”
Seonal relaxed at Yan’s firm tone.
They’d worked together—knew each other’s stripes.
Minus that day, Yan wasn’t one for empty words.
“Sorry, Namwoo.”
Seonal apologized to him. Newbie dragged into his drama, hearing cryptic nonsense—must suck.
“No worries. I’m fine.”
Namwoo shook his head vigorously. Truth was, it was insanely intriguing.
Seeing vets’ hidden sides.
“Back to it. What mysteries did you mean?”
As Yan pivoted to the case, Seonal welcomed it.
He adjusted his glasses with a lazy gaze and spoke.
“First off, she was a regular office worker. Took her meds steady, annual checkups kept her charm power under the legal limit of 50.”
“Right.”
Hopen nodded.
“Namwoo, know why there’s a legal limit?”
Namwoo startled at the sudden question.
“Uh, the government standard—below that, charm can’t dominate someone.”
“Correct. The limit’s the threshold where dream demon charm becomes resistible for individuals.”
Average benchmark, of course—weak-minded folks could fall to sub-limit charm.
But no major harm.
“Here’s the weird part.”
Seonal pulled a Complaints report. Eyes turned to it.
“This dream demon didn’t exceed the limit at arrest. Meaning, she couldn’t dominate anyone with charm.”
“…Hold up.”
Yan cut in, baffled.
“What bullshit is this? No cop files say under limit.”
“Not bullshit. Of course not. A week ago, Complaints handled her in another case—a suicide bombing tied in. Not trivial.”
Seonal smirked, stating facts.
Minor stuff? Maybe. But major? Special Task Force requesting direct from Complaints meant cops would hand over docs.
Obvious, right?