Murder Case (6)
Aging means forgetting memories, too. The years he'd lived must have seemed so long compared to those he had left. Now, they were reduced to mere traces.
Jeong Woo-gyeom could no longer recall his mother's voice. At least photos remained for his memories of her, but he couldn't remember his grandparents' faces—not even preserved in pictures. That's what approaching death was like.
Humans believed they kept learning and gaining until the end. But that shallow faith was cracking as he watched himself wear down. In his youth, he'd vowed to fix the world's injustices. Now, all he saw was his pathetic self conforming to them.
Emotions are more volatile than one thinks. Even if anger flared, it faded after a night's sleep, no longer seeming so grave. Over time, even worthy provocations left him numb.
So death itself wasn't so frightening. The real terror was forgetting—his daughter's voice, her face. As a parent, nothing was more horrifying.
That's why the monster speaking in her voice and likeness felt like the only salvation for his withered self.
Emergency alert. Emergency alert. An incident has occurred where some containment zones are being released. Agents, promptly re-contain the entities. I repeat, some containment zones are being released—
"Tch. What a nuisance."
Jeong Woo-gyeom couldn't immediately grasp what was happening. Amid the blaring alarm, he saw the monster—tutting in his daughter's form. And the young woman blocking its path.
"Why help that human? It wouldn't be bad for you either."
"Doesn't seem particularly good for me. What do I gain by helping you? You're not offering youth."
"I'll free all the Muksi Saengmyeongche contained here. For revenge on humans!"
His daughter's voice boomed.
"Dare to cage me? You filthy bugs!"
"What, complaining? You seem bored."
"Hah, you want out too. Hand over that human. I'll become Chief of Information and get you all out. Deal?"
"Why not go our separate ways? Getting re-contained like this would be embarrassing."
Whoosh. The witch exhaled smoke.
"Got a problem? Try eating me. I was human once—might work."
"Tch... Fine. Plenty of other humans to eat."
His daughter's face melted into silver slime. The doppelganger slithered out like a slime, escaping the zone.
Chief Jeong Woo-gyeom watched blankly.
"...Why'd you help me?"
"Long life means occasional whims."
The witch lit her pipe.
"There used to be other witches besides me—all idiots. Those who made humans enemies burned at the stake."
"......"
"Lesson learned: longevity's shortcut is helping humans. No need to kidnap and drain youth—they offer it willingly for useful things."
With that, the witch returned to Room 91.
Thanks to her, he'd survived. But he'd lost his enemy.
"......"
Jeong Woo-gyeom opened Room 92's door without hesitation and boarded the elevator.
Time travel commencing!
Have a pleasant time travel!
He rewound 10 minutes. The clock read 2:54 AM—six minutes before the breach.
Jeong Woo-gyeom picked up the containment zone intercom and contacted the monitoring agent.
"Check it now. Or that thing might escape...!"
His enemy's name escaped him. Four letters, maybe. But what?
His heart skipped. ...Only the name's gone. I remember its traits clearly.
Other memories slipped too. The Information Bureau handled entity intel—containment scenarios, escape protocols.
That's why Jeong Woo-gyeom had long planned: exhaust his lifespan, lure 'it' to devour him. Would 'it' vanish then?
Preparations were complete. Using his authority, he'd placed necessary Muksi Saengmyeongche in the 90s zones, checking daily.
But he'd never executed. Why? He couldn't recall.
His position? Fear of chaos in the Bureau, crippling the Special Task Force? Regret for life? No certainty it'd kill 'it'?
"...Just check."
He hung up. These 10 minutes differed from before, ticking slowly.
Ten minutes was too short. He knew reacting in time was near impossible, whatever the cause.
Maybe he hoped for failure. He'd done his duty as Chief. If it still failed... unavoidable.
No need for more while contained. But if escape was certain, trying wouldn't hurt.
They'd understand sacrificing himself. Understand avenging ■■.
"Ah..."
Jeong Woo-gyeom gave a bitter smile. Time came.
He boarded the elevator again.
Time travel commencing!
Have a pleasant time travel!
2:54 AM. ■■■ stood before Room 91. The ID around their neck felt alien. They somehow recalled how to open it—where ■■ was.
"I'll buy this."
"It's free. Take it."
"I know, but I'll pay anyway. No rule against paying for free stuff."
"Fair enough."
They paid all but five minutes of lifespan. Then opened Room 96, where ■■■■ was.
'It' was trapped in the glass tube.
"Daddy, let me out! Can't breathe...! Abandoning me again?! Daddy!"
'It' screamed in an unfamiliar face, voice. No clue who. Yet something welled from forgotten depths.
Those who lose loved ones say life loses meaning. But if murdered, they say they can't die until the killer does.
Hatred might be survival instinct. That's why oblivion couldn't take it.
Good. You're always the same.
We returned to Room 96. Jeong Woo-gyeom's corpse lay there. Dead of heart failure.
After paying one's lifespan to a Muksi Saengmyeongche, if it fully depletes, the subject dies by heart attack, sudden accident, or natural disaster.
Not common, even in-game. Took time to notice.
Grilled the witch: transaction at exactly 2:56 AM. Left with five minutes, so expired at 3:01 AM.
The doppelganger perfectly mimics the prey's physiology and health—even colds transfer.
Doppelganger broke out at 3:00 AM, devoured the on-site Chief Jeong Woo-gyeom, mimicked him immediately.
But under one minute left. The body triggered heart failure right away.
Doppelganger couldn't leave since. That was the truth of the incident.
"Hey, get up."
I said. Two pieces of good news, one bad.
Bad first: monsters don't die easily.
"I know, so get up."
"Damn it, damn it, damn it...!"
Jeong Woo-gyeom—no, the doppelganger—rose. Pale face. Couldn't stand properly.
It mimicked the heart failure body. Heart stops, brain cells die, organs fail.
"That old bastard! Trapping me in this body...! Damn it, damn it...!"
Monsters, anomalies, urban legends—their life and death blurred. Hence 'extinction'.
Doppelganger legends mimic humans. Must continue mimicking to sustain as legend.
That's its rule. Forcing 'imitate Chief Jeong Woo-gyeom' to cling on.
But he's a corpse. 'Corpse-mimicking legend'? Others exist—like 'corpse play' or mimic subtypes.
Conflicts with other legends. Doppelganger's vitality fading as legend.
Jeong Woo-gyeom didn't fully kill it, but near enough. First good news.
Second: "Lisa."
The universe's cutest detective girl was here to finish it.