The Fear of Demons
The snowflakes danced delicately in the air. Between them, a faint breath wandered, weak and lost. “Haa… haa…” Each exhale scattered like ash from a dying fire. The black hide rose and fell with no strength left. The endless torment had finally burned away every last scrap of will, like kindling thrown into a blaze. It faded into the distance.
What remained was a strange figure wearing the hide of a deer, abandoned at the center of a desolate snowfield—like ashes left after a fire. The Shaman Who Chews on Taboos. The Dungeon Lord. Wendygo. Its official name: Skinwalker.
The immortal monster that had coiled itself at the entrance to the Green Zone and reigned over adventurers as an unknown terror was, today—
“...Stop… please stop… I beg you, don’t hurt me anymore. I surrender. So… just kill me already…”
—kneeling before the incarnation of terror with a crow’s head, head bowed, begging for death.
In the more than ten minutes of unimaginable agony, Wendygo had reached one clear realization.
‘So this… is what life is? This painful?’
Life, he now understood, was filled with suffering. Being alive was undoubtedly a blessing, yet it was also a curse. Happiness existed, but pain inevitably accompanied it. Happy moments faded quickly, while pain and scars remained forever. Therefore, life was clearly a curse disguised as a blessing.
‘To think I tried to drag Mother, who rests so peacefully in the warm darkness, onto this path of thorns… I really was shortsighted.’
The reason he had fought to become stronger all this time was to reunite with the family he loved. He had wanted to feel the warmth of his blood relatives who had died unjustly. But now, he abandoned that wish. His goal vanished. He lost his way. The weakly burning wick went out. The stars faded and fell. The very foundation of his arrogance crumbled.
The moment he embraced surrender in his heart, he lost all qualification. He was no longer the ruler of his layer. He was no longer a Dungeon Lord. He was nothing more than a defeated, failed, nameless shaman.
And to that broken being, a voice spoke.
“You could talk.”
The bizarre voice—dozens of humans submerged in water speaking at once—pierced his ears. Wendygo slowly lifted his bowed head.
A twisted crow’s head. Eyes glowing with the crimson light of a rising red moon.
“....”
Staring at that terrifying yet awe-inspiring sight as if enchanted, Wendygo answered carefully.
“Y-yes…”
The mere thought of offending the creature and tasting that horrific pain again made cold sweat break out despite the freezing cold.
“I see.”
Hearing the answer, Raven gave a small nod. Then he raised his Injector and aimed it at Wendygo’s head.
‘That thing is…’
The strange rod that had brought him such agony was now pointed at him. Thick fear rose from Wendygo. But as if to reassure him, Raven spoke calmly to the trembling monster.
“Do not fear. I will send you off cleanly, without much pain.”
At that mercy, Wendygo lowered his head once more.
“Thank you… for your mercy…”
The muzzle pressed against the twisted deer’s head. The trigger slowly pulled back.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
Finally, several shots of fear quietly seeped into Wendygo, who had given up on life and bowed his head in anticipation of death.
At the same time, Wendygo lifted his head as if sensing something.
“...What is this?”
“Do you feel something has changed?”
At Raven’s question, Wendygo nodded.
“I do.”
He felt that sensation—specifically, pain—had vanished from his body. The biting wind that had constantly battered his outer hide was gone. The fatigue accumulated in his muscles had disappeared. It was as if the very concept of pain had been erased from the world.
Raven watched Wendygo tilt his head curiously, even after stabbing his own hand with an ice pick without reaction, and let out a satisfied chuckle.
‘It actually worked.’
The fear Raven had just fired into Wendygo was the same as before—Agliophobia, the fear of pain and suffering. But there was one small difference.
‘Listen, from now on you are an anesthetic bullet. Your job isn’t to cause pain. It’s to remove it. Got it?’
This time, his will had been infused into the fear.
While Wendygo had writhed in agony and realized that life itself was suffering—
“Hmm.”
—Raven had also tasted thick fear and reached his own realization.
‘If it’s the fear of pain and suffering…’
Couldn’t it also make someone unable to feel pain at all?
In this world, there were indeed twisted beings who felt happiness through pain. To them, numbness, the loss of pain, might register as fear. From that subtle thought was born this clean anesthetic with zero risk of addiction.
The only problem was that his control over the power was still immature, so it could only produce partial anesthesia rather than full-body. Still, that was easily solved by firing several more shots until the whole body went numb.
‘It would’ve been nice if it worked on humans too…’
It was a little disappointing that this damned fear bullet only applied to himself and monsters. It would have been perfect to fire one at his contractor whenever she got hurt and was in pain. Ah, well…
“Tsk.”
Having finished the satisfying yet slightly disappointing experiment, Raven aimed his gun once more to grant Wendygo the death he had promised.
Clack.
The fear loaded in the chamber was Pyrophobia, recently obtained from Sakana, the sub-chef of the Rainbow Cup. The fear of fire. Raven knew better than anyone from past experience that creatures with powerful regeneration were far more vulnerable to flames than to increased physical force, so he had chosen this fear.
“....”
Wendygo, who had been trembling in awe at the realization that pain had vanished from him and that he stood before a mystery close to divine power, stiffened as he sensed death approaching. The moment that finger pulled the trigger, he would likely follow his mother.
But before that, there was one thing he absolutely had to know.
“Before I die… may I ask you one thing?”
Raven nodded silently.
Confirming permission, Wendygo licked his dry lips and asked quietly.
“What exactly… are you?”
Are you a shaman who has reached the end of taboos? Or perhaps a demigod who rules over pain itself?
“Tell me who you are, unknown powerhouse.”
‘Who I am?’
At Wendygo’s question, Raven knelt on one knee, leaned down, and whispered softly into the ear of the prostrated monster.
A former South Korean Army sergeant who completed his mandatory service. Corporate slave at a black company. Terraforming’s greatest chaos agent. The Cheongju Omok Ghost. But now…
“I am…”
A demon (not really) from hell (Terraforming).
“Raven.”
Demon. A mythical being that symbolizes evil, destruction, and temptation, desiring the corruption of humans and the downfall of gods.
“D…demon…”
I suspected as much. So it really was.
“You… were a demon like that?”
“That?”
Wendygo could not answer Raven’s question. He was trembling in awe and reverence at the fragment of myth before his eyes, intoxicated by this unknown discovery. And above all—
‘Even in death, it seems I will never find peace.’
—because he was utterly terrified.
Demons existed in Wendygo’s world as well. But unlike the rather human-friendly and cute demons of the Bastion Saga, the perception of demons in his homeland was extremely negative. Beings that dragged taboo-breaking shamans down to hell. Beings that took the form of snakes, crawled up from the earth, and corrupted pure women. In every evil and unclean thing in the world, the shadow of a demon was always present.
That was why, upon realizing that demons truly existed and that he now stood face to face with one, Wendygo felt overwhelming terror.
-Crrrrk.
The power confronting him. The pain carved into his body. Stories from adults. Dark nights. His mother’s voice whispering to him when he threw tantrums to avoid sleeping. The phrases left in his memory. All these experiences, memories, and fragments of life flowed together in Wendygo’s mind, deep within that darkness, coalescing into a single fear.
A fear so profound that even the Goddess of the heavens could not have predicted its birth.
“...Hmm?”
Wendygo clasped his hands together and rapidly muttered incomprehensible words.
A distorted shape suddenly appeared above his head.
Fear discovered.
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Fear of demons.
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Collect the fear?
A translucent window appeared before Raven.
“Fear of demons, huh.”
If he had this… could he become a real demon?
Not a cosplayer pretending to be the demon of terror, but a true, genuine demon of fear.