Chapter 366
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 366
Chapter Title: 149. Janggi (2)
As with most research on rifts, there's still no definitive explanation for exactly how Awakeners generate waves similar to those of monsters. The leading theory posits that Awakeners are individuals whose frontal lobes have undergone mutations different from those in ordinary people, influenced by what are called mutation factors from the rifts.
The exact changes vary from person to person. Some say the frontal cortex is more expanded than in normals, others claim there are protrusions, and some even argue the color itself is different. Unlike lab animals, though, Awakeners are human, so you can't just dissect living people for samples.
Of course, given the gravity of the issue, countries around the world have quietly continued researching Awakeners, but no tangible results have emerged. One indisputable fact is that Awakeners can't be mass-produced.
Like an ingredient that refuses to be farmed, Awakeners appear on their own under conditions humans can't comprehend. And then, out of nowhere, Heo Jong-cheol made this absurd claim.
That there might be man-made Awakeners. From a second-rate Hunter who wasn't even a scientist or doctor. I spotted him in the hospital corridor, getting an earful from a doctor in a white coat.
"No, Jong-cheol, I already explained that abdominal pain can have thousands of causes, right? Patients don't even know exactly where it hurts. I don't know what basis you used to diagnose hepatitis, but not everything can be seen with the naked eye."
It was Kim Daram's husband. Back at their wedding, he had that smooth, wrinkle-free smile that suited a Gangnam heir, but now he looked rough around the edges, positively sharp.
"No, it's visible. The liver is swollen."
"Do you know how many causes hepatomegaly can have?"
"What am I supposed to do about what's visible? It looks just like that guy who died of hepatitis before."
"Look, Jong-cheol. You have your textbook, right? Let me explain from the beginning. The causes of liver enlargement are..."
It didn't seem like it would end anytime soon, so I cleared my throat. They both noticed me right away.
"Oh."
Heo Jong-cheol looked glad to see me. Makes sense—he'd welcome anyone over getting scolded by his boss or whatever Kim Daram's husband was to him. The husband recognized me at a glance but averted his eyes the moment they met mine.
"...We'll talk later."
Like attracts like, or birds of a feather? Daram's husband seemed to share her prickly tendencies. Back in his heir days, he'd greet people with overly gracious enthusiasm. Feeling the bitter aftertaste of that million-won wedding gift I'd lost, I approached Heo Jong-cheol.
"Long time no see."
He'd grown an impressive mustache and a neatly trimmed beard, but despite our dramatic past encounter, we had our own little grudge. He'd tried to kill me, and I'd casually sent him packing—nothing major.
Maybe because of that episode, his gaze carried a hint of unease. I wasn't here to dredge up the past, though; his claim had piqued my strong interest.
"Want to talk for a bit?"
"Sure."
We stepped outside. Soon he handed me two paper cups of instant coffee mix.
"Oh. They still have this stuff?"
"It's a hospital, after all."
"How's the job treating you?"
"So-so."
I had plenty to say, but lecturing him would be meddlesome, and we weren't close enough for that. So I cut straight to the chase.
"I heard you know a guy who got baptized by John the Baptist."
"Ah. Yeah."
Surprisingly, Heo Jong-cheol revealed the patient without hesitation. The kid sat alone in a room with the window open, curtains fluttering.
Not video footage, but the stench hit hard from the moment the door opened—like fridge-cold outside air mixed with it. The reek of feces was overpowering.
Urinals scattered haphazardly everywhere showed he wasn't getting proper care.
"He's been deemed unrecoverable," Heo Jong-cheol said, donning a mask.
"...Where's the problem?"
"His brain's shot overall. Shriveled up like end-stage alcoholism, walnut-style."
"He's not that old, is he?"
More boy than young man. Half an ear missing, deep scar on his brow, several fingers fused and blunt from unconscious injury—signs of a rough life. Yet his remaining days marched toward inevitable ruin.
"We'll discharge him in about a week."
"Any guardians?"
Heo Jong-cheol shook his head with a bitter look.
"Came in empty-handed, leave empty-handed."
"What happened?"
We walked the empty corridor after leaving the room.
"Name's Jin-ho. No family name I know. Brain damage had already started by the time he arrived."
"He was better off at first?"
"Yes."
One day, a boy with no connections showed up at the hospital, clutching his head in agony. He displayed unmistakable Awakener traits without fail.
"...Not just liver tests—he had the glowing eyes too, a well-known sign. His waves weren't full strength, but he was knocking at the door. You know, the 'tapping' phenomenon. What happens when a Level 5+ potential Awakener first tries to open the wave door."
Heo Jong-cheol was convinced Jin-ho was a bona fide Awakener. Even Kim Daram's hostile husband acknowledged it.
Of course, the key here isn't whether the boy was an Awakener. It's how he became one after failing the litmus test.
Kim Daram's husband approached with irritated steps mid-story, but a stare from me sent him retreating—a minor hiccup. It revealed one of Heo Jong-cheol's hidden strengths.
This guy had nerves of steel. Even with Daram's husband clearly bullying him, he didn't flinch.
If someone honked aggressively on the road, while the Defender siblings might hop out with baseball bats, this guy would ignore it and finish his business. No wonder he clung to his outlandish worldview.
"...Jin-ho said clearly he'd never passed a litmus test before. Then suddenly, he did. Yeah." Heo Jong-cheol's eyes gleamed with something beyond Awakener glow, a smug smile forming.
"John the Baptist. That guy's got a way to turn normals into Awakeners. Still unstable, but."
"Related to the boy's condition?"
"Yes. Don't know what he injected, but it definitely promotes Awakener-like changes in the frontal lobe. Downside: rapid cerebral cortex damage, turning people into vegetables like Jin-ho."
"...Poison." Not everyone thinks alike, as Heo Jong-cheol said.
"Who knows." The glint in his eyes behind the glasses wasn't just Awakener shine.
"Could be the weapon to break this bleak status quo." I've met his type before. Heo Jong-cheol's just spouting delusions without power, but if a policymaker thought like that? Dangerous. Take Kang Han-min. Savior, hero, clown, underachiever—many masks obscure his essence, but I see extremism.
He hates rifts as much as I do. * It's no shock that plenty of people want to die.
To film short clips for the internet or show off bravado to a group, some fools choose death—probably never intending to follow through themselves. Darwin Awards were made for them. Most who pick death like that have confidence. Among peers, they're strong, lively, influential.
No empty bravado from the powerless. But Kang Han-min was different. No speck of Hunter talent, yet he strained to stand in our line.
Jang Gi-young tormented him not just from dislike, but foresight: Han-min would drag the team to death someday. Overzealous incompetents cause accidents. Han-min did, but differently.
Few know this. Probably just me, Han-min, and Na Hye-in.
A routine dangerous mission. Rebels held downtown facilities; monsters built a nest inside. Chinese government ordered us to breach rebels and take the nest.
China's once-mighty army had dwindled in numbers, quality, gear. Inversely, obsessive drone reliance—but drones aren't magic wands.
Three drone recon failures led to a hasty ad-hoc team. Han-min and I on point, Hye-in spotting threats from rear, coordinating.
Early on, Han-min was overly eager.
"Good. Good. Feeling lucky today! Lucky chance!" I figured it was puppy love for Hye-in, showing off. In life-or-death spots, a dash of bravado's like salt.
As long as not excessive. At the monster nest, we spotted presumed rebel civilians.
No adults, three kids. Told Han-min to translate. Unlike me—no Chinese, no interest—he spoke it fluently, like Daram.
And just as amiably to Chinese. Daram's fake; Han-min seemed innate warmth, to me.
I caught a common greeting despite my poor Chinese. He returned.
"Told 'em to go elsewhere. They'll get shot by soldiers our way anyway?" In rebel zones, instant execution regardless of age/gender. Early war, treated as citizens/refugees, but zealots mixing in led to zero tolerance.
No taste for watching unarmed innocents die, I nodded as kids left. One boy with Gong Kyung-min's fave mobile game character doll glanced back, terrified.
"Let's head in. Last drone said candy box type."
"OK! Aniki!" Once 'friendly'—his one-way—Han-min called me Aniki. Internet dive: Japanese for 'big bro'. His birthday's before mine.
Likely from Japanese games he played at base. Clever or calculated, he used it only alone or low-tension.
No long-term plans with him anyway; HQ promised top students first. Battlefield attitude matters.
Boosted his confidence, he pulled his weight decently.
"I'll scout."
"You?"
"I'm slow, weak physique, but crawling? Even Principal Jang Gi-young praised that." Early candy box nests: oyster-narrow tunnels. Low combat power—easy close-quarters—but defensive annoyance beat later spider types.
No one wants gray tunnels of mystery goo, swarming jelly minions. I awaited his utility.
"OK! Aniki!" Guarding with rifle, Hye-in comms as he crawled into a honeycomb passage, clumsy.
"Rebels?"
"Clear. None around."
"Good."
"Nest check?"
"Han-min's in. Out soon."
"Roger." Waiting, something caught my eye. Doll.
Gong Kyung-min's China game character. He nagged me to play, so familiar. Same model as the civilian boy's—torn left armpit, stuffing out.
"..." Suspicions rose, but I watched silently. Han-min emerged soon.
"Tough. So tough." Too quick for full recon.