Hell Train [6]

The trial of Dongjak Station was copper magpies shattering through the windows and swarming inside to peck the passengers apart.

Of course...

"Subway pigeons are the absolute worst."

Fwoooosh! With the Vairocana Mantra Barrier already laid across the floor of the train, the copper magpies melted the instant they set foot inside the car.

The announcement's voice had grown noticeably weaker than before. Had it lost its drive from being forced to watch people writhe and die in agony?

"Even among every anomaly I've faced so far, this one's a record-setting piece of work."

That much was now certain.

The Suicide Train was no Saw-style anomaly, driving people with suicidal urges into extreme situations so they'd rediscover the value of life. It simply shoved the brokenhearted into hellish trials and savored their suffering. That was all.

Screeeech.

Before long, the train came to a stop at the Dongjak platform. Half hoping, I scanned the platform for the red snake, but there was none.

"Wang Lingguan, protect the passengers and Choi Eun-ha while I'm gone."

"Grrrrrrrumble!"

Wang Lingguan thumped his own chest as if to say, leave it to me.

"Fey."

"Didst thou call?"

Moisture gathered from the empty air, and Fey manifested, smaller than the palm of my hand.

"Mind lending me a hand again? It's been a while."

"Hmph! Thou dost ever summon Us only when thou hast need of Us."

"Tsk. Say that, and don't I sound like a total piece of garbage?"

"...The fact that thou sayest it thyself is a mercy. Well, fine. More importantly, is the preparation for 'that' proceeding apace?"

"Yes, it'll be finished before long, so don't you worry."

Now that I could fulfill the festival's conditions through broadcasting, the price of my contract with Fey no longer weighed on me much. The real problem was Fey's energy, which would take root in my body through the contract.

While I was pioneering an entirely new realm of cultivation, that would become an obstacle in more ways than one.

So I'd decided to flip the premise entirely.

There was no rule that the contract had to be anchored to my own flesh.

Just as Korean shamanism knows both spirit-possessed shamans who channel gods through their bodies and secular shamans who channel them through sacred objects, my contract with Fey could just as well be made with a spirit vessel standing between us.

In other words, something like a genie in a lamp.

The question was how to craft a vessel capable of channeling the power of a higher being like Fey.

In that sense, newly acquiring Paracelsus's Alchemy Workshop was excellent fortune.

It'll be a tremendous help in forging a contract vessel.

In any case, I'd decided to leave this train's situation to Wang Lingguan and Fey. With the two of them together, any ordinary trial would be cleared with ease.

"Then, I'm off."

I bade a final farewell to the passengers remaining on the train and stepped off at the station.

Screeeech.

The Suicide Train pulled away from the platform the instant I stepped off, as if it had been waiting for exactly that moment.

"Not even a glance back. How heartless. What's the big hurry?"

That's what I said, but I was in just as much of a hurry.

Gripping the train ticket, I headed straight up toward the concourse. Descending the stairs and plunging into the water had made me a little tense, but...

Chwaaaaaaa—

Perhaps it was because I held the ticket—the water's surface parted before me like Moses's miracle, opening a path.

Exactly as I'd heard from Yoon Soo-ah's survivor testimony, I climbed calmly into the concourse, settled my ticket at the validator, and passed through the gate.

And then...

Murmur, murmur, murmur.

The concourse that had been flooded to the ceiling moments ago vanished, replaced by the real-world concourse packed with living, breathing people.

"So that's how it works."

I checked the station name. Seoul Metro Line 4, Dongjak Station.

"As I thought—the Suicide Train's route map is linked to its actual location."

The moment I'd finished sizing up the situation, I placed a call. The recipient: Hwang Young-gyu, section chief of Cosmos's anomaly countermeasures division.

Beep... beep...

Not even a proper ringtone—just a dry, toneless signal droned on for a moment before—

"Answering. It's been a while, Mr. Kim Dosa."

Hwang Young-gyu picked up. I skipped the pleasantries and went straight to business.

"Section Chief Hwang Young-gyu, how about doing a little business with me on the corporate level?"

"An intriguing offer. Which anomaly are we talking about, I wonder?"

As expected of a major corporation's section chief. Quick on the uptake.

"Of the Four Great Urban Legends throwing Seoul into an uproar, I intend to exorcise 'The Station That Cannot Exist'—or rather, the Suicide Train."

"You seem to have already unraveled the anomaly's true nature. Ah, one moment..."

A brief flurry of rustling and hushed conversation came through the receiver.

And then—

"Situation assessment complete. What rotten luck you have, getting entangled with such an anomaly in broad daylight."

"...Well, it's just another Tuesday for me."

These bastards... I'd expected as much, but they really were monitoring my channel in real time. Nothing else could explain an assessment that fast.

"So, specifically, what help do you require?"

I recited my pre-prepared demands in rapid succession. When I finished, Hwang Young-gyu paused for a beat before answering.

"...Hmm. You're asking for quite a lot."

"Really? For a company the size of Cosmos, I'd hardly call these grand demands."

"Certainly, for Cosmos as a corporation, they're trivial demands—but only when the work serves Cosmos."

Yeah, I didn't figure they'd roll over that easily.

"Didn't you say you wanted to use me as your company's advertising model?"

"But as of now, the contract hasn't even been signed."

"If your side had secured the Fire-Tipped Spear sooner, wouldn't you have signed by now?"

"..."

"..."

A brief silence. But right now I had no leisure for a war of words with a buttoned-up corporate executive.

"You said your assessment is finished, so I trust you understand how pressed I am."

"Yes, I do."

There was an easy confidence in Hwang Young-gyu's voice. It was the silent smirk of a negotiator watching a fool who naïvely bares his own urgency and starts pleading for sympathy.

But I'm not that kind of fool either.

"And when it comes to having no time to spare, Cosmos is every bit the same, isn't it?"

"...What do you mean by that?"

"I know all about the silent war between Cosmos and Jeong-myung-gyo."

In the psychic industry, it was an incident just about everyone knew. The fact that even I—weak on connections and gossip—had heard of it said everything.

"A war that began with Cosmos's unilateral sneak attack, no declaration of hostilities, and yet the tide doesn't look especially favorable for you. So it's dragged on into a long, grinding stalemate. Cosmos has been trying to end it quickly by hiring Deva psychics as mercenaries, but with a war that flimsy in justification, that hasn't gone smoothly either."

"...And what, precisely, are you trying to say? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Surely you're not simply mocking Cosmos...?"

"Did you forget what I said a minute ago? I have no time for pointless chatter."

"Then tell me—what is it you want so badly that you'd bring all this up?"

"The reason Cosmos attacked Jeong-myung-gyo. The Philosopher's Stone, isn't it?"

"...So the mysterious expert who interfered with our squad back then was you, Mr. Kim Dosa."

"Well, don't take it too personally—no casualties, right?"

Good thing I'd subdued both Cosmos and the cult without a single loss. But judging by how he phrased that—had Hwang Young-gyu been among the squad members back then? Come to think of it, they'd all worn identical gear and identical masks, so even if he had been there, I wouldn't have picked him out.

"I'll tell you who's holding that Philosopher's Stone."

—!

For an instant, I heard Hwang Young-gyu suck in a sharp breath. But only for an instant.

"You're not about to say the Count of Saint Germain, are you?"

Goddammit, this guy's instincts are razor sharp.

Well, fair enough. If the Masquerade Alliance and the Paranormal Administration Bureau knew, there was no way Cosmos didn't.

But thankfully, I knew of a Philosopher's Stone holder besides the Count of Saint Germain.

"If not the Count... Paracelsus... no, he should be long dead by now..."

Fortunately, the name I had in mind never surfaced. Which meant Cosmos, too, had no idea that our chairman had forged the Stone.

Sorry, Chairman.

Since I was apologizing anyway—let me sell that name one more time, please.

"So, what will it be? Do you accept the offer?"

"...Fine. I accept those terms. But if that information turns out to be false—"

"I'm not an idiot."

"Understood. Given the urgency, I'll choose to trust you. For now."

Got him!

"Time is tight. Can you have everything ready within the time limit?"

"Don't concern yourself—I began preparations the moment I heard your proposal."

...Well, look at this guy. So you were planning to do it anyway, and just stalled on purpose to squeeze out better terms for your side?

You really have to hand it to big-corporation types—their insides are black as pitch.

"Then I'll see you at Yanghwa Bridge."

"We'll be waiting."

With the call wrapped up, I emerged to the surface, and—

Skreeeee!

right on cue, Lee Ha-ram's car pulled to a stop on the nearby road.

"Master!"

"Good timing."

I'd sent Ha-ram a text through the Anomaly Suppression Squad channel before the train reached Dongjak Station.

"Let's go."

"Yes, sir!"

Ha-ram's jeep truck tore through the streets of Seoul.

"By the way, is that really okay?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"What is?"

"The, um, alchemy. Wouldn't it have been better for you to make it yourself, Master?"

Along with summoning Ha-ram, I'd issued one more directive through the channel: a specific order for Choi Eun-ha to craft a certain object.

"It's fine."

"But Eun-ha's skills are behind even ours—"

"Behind whose, exactly? Look at this."

I pulled today's sunstone from my coat—the one the three of them had made. I'd pocketed it planning to examine their work at leisure later and give feedback. While Ha-ram's and Momo's sunstones had lost their spiritual charge almost immediately—

"Still warm."

Choi Eun-ha's sunstone hadn't merely held its warmth. It was, if anything, growing hotter.

"Blood will tell, I suppose."

Or perhaps the Philosopher's Stone said to dwell in that person's soul had played its part. Either way, I had trusted Choi Eun-ha and given her the job.

Once you trust someone with a task, you don't go second-guessing them.

Then—

Ding.

A message arrived from Hwang Young-gyu.

"These bastards... so they really did plant a surveillance backdoor in their company phones."

The message was crammed full of the "reasons to live" of every passenger caught up in the Suicide Train.

With Kim Yi-yeon gone, only a heavy silence flowed between the passengers he'd left behind.

The stations after Dongjak had been cleared with ease, one after another, by the power of Wang Lingguan and Fey. But no matter how many trials they overcame, the atmosphere couldn't lift—death was what awaited them at the terminus. And above all, the hole Kim Yi-yeon had left behind was simply too large.

To be fair, Fey and Wang Lingguan were filling that vacancy admirably. But they could not give the passengers the same sense of safety Kim Yi-yeon had.

"Thou art truly a sinful man, possessing so many hearts only to lift them and let them fall again."

"Grrrrrumble..."

"Now then, great big kitty. 'Tis time."

"Rrrrumble!"

At Fey's instruction, Wang Lingguan manipulated Yoon Soo-ah's phone. The listless passengers' eyes gathered at his sudden movement. And before long, Wang Lingguan raised the phone toward them all.

"Ah, ah—is this coming through? Passengers, everyone, can you see me?"

What shimmered onto Yoon Soo-ah's phone screen was Kim Yi-yeon. The video call had been connected through a temporary coil channel.

And the truly astonishing thing was where Kim Yi-yeon was calling from.

Beyond the screen stretched the surface of the water. Kim Yi-yeon was standing in the very middle of the Han River, beneath Yanghwa Bridge, placing the call from atop the river itself.

A man standing in the middle of the Han River—the passengers' attention was, naturally, absolute.

"Whoa, what the hell?"

"Huh? I know that guy!"

I offered a wry smile at that crushing level of attention. Well, this much I'll just have to accept.

Yanghwa Bridge was packed with police and broadcasters wearing MBB logos, traffic brought to a standstill. And that wasn't all—right around me, boats and yachts sent by Cosmos crowded the water, thick as flies. From their decks, MBB camera operators were filming me without a single gap in coverage.

"So that bastard Choi Ji-hoon came too."

I let out a wry laugh at the unwelcome face after so long. I'd wrenched their cooperation out of them in exchange for the identity of the Philosopher's Stone holder, but entirely separate from that, Cosmos clearly intended to milk this for every drop of anomaly-and-mystery publicity it was worth.

Amid all that, I glanced at the two phones I had floating in the air with my environment-transformation art. One was for the broadcast; the other, for the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠video call.

Incidentally—whether thanks to the sheer spectacle of staging this whole circus in the middle of the Han River, my live viewer count had just blown past fifty thousand.

I gave a wry smile at the festival atmosphere in the chat window, blissfully unaware of how serious things were on this end. But only for a moment—then I looked into the camera and addressed the passengers on the other side of the video call.

"As I promised, everything is ready to save all of you."

"R-really!?"

"We can actually get out!?"

"Please, get us out of here!"

My, eyes brimming with tears over not seeing me for what, an hour or so?

"Believe me, I'd love to pull you out this very second—but that requires preparation. And for that preparation, you'll need to understand what kind of anomaly the Suicide Train you've been caught up in actually is, and help me."

"We're helping? Us?"

"What could we even... do?"

Heads tilted in confusion beyond the screen. To them, I laid out the information I'd uncovered about the Suicide Train.

That this anomaly was none other than the concept of the Han River—the city's most notorious suicide spot—sublimated into the form of an urban legend. That because of it, the train's route traced the Han River, and the condition for being taken was harboring suicidal urges. And that to step off the Suicide Train alive, one had to cast that urge aside.

"S-so we just have to deal with this bastard somehow, right!?"

One of the passengers, having listened to the whole explanation, hauled the med student—who was still slumped flat on the floor—to his feet.

"Hey! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Throw that dying crap out of your head right now! If you're gonna die, do it later, somewhere with nobody around!"

"E-even if you say that...!"

The med student protested in a crawling, strangled voice.

"Screw it! Just kill this bastard! If he dies, then nobody on this train has suicidal urges anymore!"

"That's right! Kill him!"

"Let's kill him!"

...Oops. I'd just fanned the psychologically cornered passengers off in a very strange direction.

"Everyone, calm down. Screaming at him and scaring him half to death won't accomplish anything—and above all, there's no guarantee he's the only one here with suicidal urges."

As I said before—these are hard times to live in, aren't they?

Out of forty-odd passengers, how many could honestly claim they didn't carry even the smallest sliver of a death wish? No wonder the Suicide Train's survival rate scraped the floor.

So to make these passengers overcome the urges they carried in their hearts, something a little more special was required.

And that was why I'd borrowed the power of Cosmos.

"So, starting now, I'm going to give each of you a reason you must go on living."

"A reason we... must live?"

The passengers stared at me through the screen with wide, stunned eyes. I met their gazes one by one as I continued.

"First—Mr. Ko Chang-yeop."

"M-me?"

The name of the med student who'd sworn he'd kill himself after flunking his national licensing exam was Ko Chang-yeop.

"I'm going to give you a reason you must live."

"Ha! What kind of bullshit is that? I'm trying to die—"

"Han So-yeon."

"..."

"The girl you've secretly loved since high school—who passed the very exam you just failed."

"N-no way..."

"Yes. Exactly the 'no way' you're thinking of."

"D-don't tell me—if I make it out of here alive, you'll get me through the exam and set things up with So-yeon—"

"If you fail to come back alive, then every single toe-curling, spine-twistingly embarrassing original poem you've written about Han So-yeon since high school—together with every lovesick love letter, stuffed full of mournful songs of love—will be delivered to Han So-yeon in its entirety."

"Wha...?"

"And every unspeakably depraved video sitting on your hard drive—the kind you couldn't bring yourself to mention out loud—will be released to your family and every one of your college classmates."

"W-wait a—!"

"Oh, and by the way—everything else I could let slide, but the scat stuff, really, as a fellow human being—"

"Wait, what the fUUUUUUUUUU—!"

"And of course."

I fixed my gaze on each and every passenger beyond the screen. This time, unlike before, every last one of them averted their eyes.

"I've prepared 'reasons to live' for all the rest of you as well."

What's that? You want to die?

Well, sorry—I'll be killing you socially first~.

A clean death? A tidy, dignified end? Go to hell.

I'll make you want to live even if it burns your face off with shame.

Of course, this approach had its limits. So I'd prepared the carrot to follow the whip, too.

"But I know perfectly well that methods like these only go so far. So I've prepared one more reason for you all to live."

I pointed at the nearby yacht bearing the Cosmos logo.

"F-forty billion won!?"

"The odds of first place are one in forty!?"

"Insane!"

I smiled a smile of deep satisfaction at their reactions.

People like to say money can't buy happiness. But live long enough and you learn, with painful clarity: while money can't buy happiness, it can most certainly buy off sorrow.

If you die here, beyond the death of your body, the death of your name would be waiting. But if you live—a lottery awaits you, with a total prize of four billion won, two billion for first place, and odds of one in forty.

This—THIS—is capitalist hope, the kind that backhands half-baked end-of-days despair across the room!