Chapter 121
Chapter 121
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 121
Chapter Title: 64. Visit (2)
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“Yang Sang-gil?”
I knew who the guy was, but I'd never dealt with him personally.
He was an office type, and I was a field guy.
“Eh, I don't really have any strong feelings about him one way or the other.”
I'd never suffered any harm from him, never even argued with him.
The most I'd seen of him was a passing glimpse here and there.
We'd exchanged a few words, sure, but nothing more than superficial small talk.
Hell, I had to question myself just to remember that much.
I gave a lukewarm reply and watched Woo Min-hee's expression.
The corner of her mouth twitched upward just a bit.
“Yang Sang-gil's scheduled to die this winter.”
“Scheduled? So it's already set in stone?”
“Yeah. There was a little hiccup during the evacuation convoy incident.”
“A little hiccup?”
“Yeah. Turns out the guy carrying the internet satellite gear was on board.”
Woo Min-hee flashed a wide grin.
Dongtanmom's story. Baek Seung-hyeon's too.
“The sharp ones figured out the 'evacuation convoy' was really a 'banishment convoy.’”
“Banished, huh.”
“The media spun it like a lottery draw, but they prioritized loading up childless folks—or parents whose kids tested black. Not ideal for them, but those people weren't exactly essential anyway.”
She stared quietly at her prosthetic arm.
The hook-like fingers bent smoothly, just like real ones, then relaxed back into place.
“Someone had to take the fall.”
“So that's why Yang Sang-gil's here?”
“Yep. He has no clue, of course. But he's come here to die. With his family.”
Woo Min-hee stood up, paced slowly, then hopped onto the central platform, closed the toilet lid, and sat down cross-legged on top.
“Hey, that's my toilet...”
“Just borrowing it for a sec.”
“Isn't it gross?”
“Back in China, I sat on way weirder stuff. Once, I thought I was sitting on a charred log—black as coal—but it squished, and nope, it was a napalm-fried corpse. Scared the hell out of me.”
Woo Min-hee gazed dreamily around my bunker with hazy eyes.
“...Anyway, so this is what your place looks like, senior.”
She wore a sly smile as she pulled out an e-cig and popped it in her mouth.
I didn't want to know what thoughts my room was sparking in her head.
She turned her gaze back to me, staring openly.
“Sometimes, senior...”
“Yeah?”
“You seem like the one with the heavier heart between us.”
“Me?”
I shot back with a hint of resentment.
Woo Min-hee wasn't looking at me.
Her eyes were on the black printout of me and Soo taped to the wall.
“Why couldn't someone like you become an Awakener?”
“Why...?”
“I heard psychos have a higher chance of Awakening. Seems like there's some truth to it too.”
“Guess I'm too normal for that.”
Woo Min-hee stood up.
“Doesn't seem like Awakening is always a good thing.”
“What makes you say that?”
I couldn't just let that slide.
Wasn't it a kind of deception?
The Awakened lording it over the un-Awakened.
But her blank face held not even a speck of petty malice.
She let out a light sigh and glanced at the young woman hovering nearby.
“Low-level folks like Miss Eugene probably wouldn't get it.”
“Ah, ahaha...”
“There's talk of someone on my level turning into a monster.”
Woo Min-hee stared at her hook fingers, flexing and relaxing them neatly.
“A monster? You don't mean literally turning into one of those things, right?”
“See? Sharp as ever, Senior Park.”
“...For real?”
“That's the rumor. But who knows the truth?”
Suddenly, the world inverted around her—light and shadow exploding outward in a wave that felt like it would burst my heart, rippling everywhere.
Boom!
In that flipped reality, she smiled whitely at me.
“Truth is, when we use our powers, we're not that different from monsters, right?”
“...”
It was terrifying pressure.
Just facing it crushed me down to the cellular level.
This was the ability of a level 12 Awakener.
Output on par with a large mutant.
“If we wanted, we could become monsters. Or maybe monsters swallow us whole. It's all hindsight anyway.”
The inverted colors clinging to her body suddenly sucked back in, vanishing without a trace.
At the same time, the bunker-filling pressure evaporated clean away.
“...Anyway, let's get to my point.”
She'd shown her power—maybe it fit the conversation flow naturally enough, but she couldn't deny it had purpose.
Her request was a tough one to grant.
“I'm building a zoo. At that airbase over there.”
Watching Woo Min-hee with her cruel smile, I reflected on her true nature.
I'd always seen her as someone who inflicted wounds and took them in turn.
Similar, but not quite.
Back in China, our team—including her—had drinks one night in Shanghai's glittering streets.
I stepped out to the bathroom, and there she was alone, back against the wall, staring blankly at Shanghai's dazzling skyline.
Without even looking at me, she tossed out a question.
“No family for you, right, senior?”
“You know that. Me and Kim Daram, orphan squad.”
“Same here.”
“You too?”
“No, I mean my parents. Feels like they don't exist.”
“What do you mean?”
“No reaction to anything. Awards, perfect scores, fights outside, tears—they're always stone-faced. Like dead fish in a market staring at me. So I went to school, became a Hunter... nothing changed.”
Younger then, legs and hands intact, no scars—she swept back her hair, sighed, and looked at me.
“Know why?”
“No clue.”
“Guess they decided to divorce once I turned twenty. Back in elementary school, even.”
“And?”
“Yeah, they did. Found out from my aunt calling.”
She spoke of her dark family history casually, eyes locked straight on me.
Like she was searching for something inside.
Didn't click back then, but now I get that intense gaze.
What she really craved wasn't empathy—it was drawing out reactions from others and savoring them.
Tragedy or comedy, didn't matter to her.
Still the same now.
“I'm moving Yang Sang-gil's family to that old U.S. base.”
“What?”
“Let 'em live there. Make that guy who enjoyed every luxury on his cozy island experience the ordinary life of the people he discarded.”
“They could die.”
She covered her mouth and let out a small laugh.
“I want to watch the process. Should have a good view from here, right?”
“Golf course has an even better one.”
“Yeah. Dump 'em there.”
She got off on the whole process of someone changing because of her actions.
Probably stemmed from childhood neglect, but a big part was just her innate nature.
“Heard this winter's gonna be brutal. Brought some fuel as thanks. Grateful?”
“Yeah. I'll put it to good use.”
“Your job, senior: keep an eye on them, write observation notes. Pop in now and then, give 'em a little hope torture.”
“...”
Watching her smile while imagining others' ruin chilled me colder than the coming winter.
As she spun her vicious fantasies, she turned to me.
“Oh, and if they survive till spring, you kill 'em yourself.”
“That's a bit much, isn't it?”
“The guy's killed millions. He iced out Kim Daram—the one you cared about—when she was desperate for Jeju. Sent Lee Sang-hun's family to Busan too.”
“Sang-hun's family too?”
“Yeah.”
“What happened to them?”
“Probably didn't make it? Busan went to hell.”
“...”
“He was the one throwing fits about no non-Awakeners on Jeju. Hypocrite—him and his family weren't even Hunters, let alone Awakeners.”
I sighed.
“...If they're still alive.”
“That's my senior. Quick on the draw.”
She hopped off the toilet.
Looked like she was about to head out.
“Any word on Kim Daram?”
I asked her.
“Kim Daram?”
“Yeah.”
“She's living large under the Legion faction. Running the old-school Hunter squad, last I heard.”
“Is that so...?”
“She always knew how to protect her own bowl.”
“What do you think of Kim Daram?”
It was a sudden question.
Just curiosity kicking in.
Felt like now or never.
Woo Min-hee answered without hesitation.
“A walking inferiority complex.”
Probably not something she cooked up on the spot.
Had to be pre-thought; it landed with real weight.
“Or bundle of complexes. Same difference. She had good stuff but never looked in the mirror—just glared at others' faces and backs with jealous eyes. Always fixated outward.”
“Kim Daram's got that side, yeah.”
“Can't be friends with someone like that.”
You don't have friends either, I wanted to say, but lacked the guts.
“Oh.”
She made a face like something clicked, then turned to me.
“Kim Daram's the one who told me about the Viva! Apocalypse! internet gear at your place.”
“What?”
“She came by after visiting you. Said your laptop had an Obelisk bundle network cable plugged in.”
“Obelisk? What's that?”
“Satellite device. Melon Mask made it.”
“Huh? What the hell? Slander? Has that bitch Kim Daram finally lost it? Gave her a million won condolence money, and this is how she repays me? Already did?”
“A million won, huh~?”
“Yeah.”
“No wonder her husband calls you 'Million-Won Senior.' That's your nickname now.”
“...”
I lost my cool for a second there at the end.
But no major slip-ups.
Still, Kim Daram...
Was that why Woo Min-hee was so obsessed with Park Gyu = Eom Chang-i theory?
And her spotting the cable meant she browsed the same board as me.
Who could she be?
Vanished without a trace.
No way to know.
Lurker? Just commenter?
As I stewed in confusion, Woo Min-hee got ready to leave.
“Anyway, today was fun. I'll head out.”
“Come on, have some coffee first.”
“Ooh, a roaster. But the lab's got better ones inside.”
“Oh, right. Yeah, let me walk you out. To the garage.”
“Nah, I'll walk. Gotta exercise sometimes.”
With those legs?!
But her face showed no worry.
“Alright.”
Woo Min-hee strode off elegantly on her metal prosthetics, mysterious woman in tow, toward my territory's exit.
I followed them out of the bunker to see them off.
At the bunker entrance, she suddenly turned back.
“You're a cruel one, senior.”
Her smile faded as she glanced at the woman beside her.
Felt like my “cruelty” tied to this lady.
Sure enough, Woo Min-hee patted the shoulder—called Miss Eugene all along—with her prosthetic and dropped a line.
“Can't even recognize your cute disciple?”
“Disciple?”
“Didn't you have one?”
“What disciple? If mentor, then... Ah.”
Right.
A disciple.
Well, could you call her that?
Not even a formal instructor—just a temp who quit after two weeks.
I stared at Miss Eugene.
Name tag: Song Yu-jin.
Common name I'd heard before.
Face didn't ring any bells.
“Hm?”
Wait.
There was someone she resembled.
Much younger version, middle-school kid at most.
“Teacher's a Hunter but no ability? Why's someone without powers an instructor? Huh?”
A girl used to trail and torment the weak back then Park Gyu.
“Teacher! Same panties as yesterday, right?! I can see 'em! Change 'em! No wonder you got no powers!”
Probably childish bid for attention from some hotshot young instructor.
But back then, Park Gyu was at his weakest—couldn't respond, just fled, and quit.
No way... that brat?
“...The kid who followed me around harassing me?”
That mischievous girl was now a jaded office drone.
“I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!”
Face pale as a ghost, bowing nonstop—I felt the full weight of time's unstoppable flow.
“Miss Yu-jin. Head out first.”
Woo Min-hee sent Song Yu-jin ahead.
Just us two in the barren territory. She stared blankly at my domain from the high ground for a long while, face expressionless.
Something on her mind?
I stood by, waiting for her to speak.
Moments later, she turned.
“Hey, just a hypothetical.”
Her blank face bloomed slowly but surely with that signature cruel, sly smile—like ink spreading on rice paper.
“Yeah.”
“Wild hypothetical, really.”
She smirked faintly and faced me squarely.
“What if I turned into a monster...?”
I met her eyes.
“Would you kill me?”
Not idle talk.
Some real intent there.
Even fear—something alien to her—faint but detectable.
Woo Min-hee, afraid?
I swallowed a bitter smile and nodded firmly at her.
“...”
Far off, Woo Min-hee and Song Yu-jin crossed my territory toward the golf course.
Staying a bit longer, probably.
But our talk was done for today.
I ignored the tiny ant-like figure glancing back and headed into the bunker.
First thing catching my eye upon return: a single photo.
Wrapped in a black bag, abandoned—the one Woo Min-hee had pulled out for hospitality. From early China days, when we were younger, full of dreams and hope. Group shot.
The living, the dead, the gone—all standing side by side, facing the same direction.
Oddly, the Park Gyu in that photo was looking elsewhere.
I can't recall where I was staring back then.