Chapter 59
This was the second ∅∅-grade Abyss I'd somehow gotten dragged into.
A goddamn gate that stripped away human autonomy with its rules. And then the Ruler pouring oil on the fire—Mephistopheles.
How about that? Didn't it feel familiar? Just like those big guild bastards who stole my entire previous life.
Fine, let's say losing my dream of becoming a doctor was just the flow of the times. Now that I'm a Hunter, I don't have any real complaints. Getting bogged down in regrets is for fools.
I don't want to keep living like I'm being pushed around anymore.
My revenge isn't some blood-soaked plan.
It's heading in a better direction. I swore it to the Great King and Lord Chungmugong, didn't I?
To do that, I need to overhaul everything from head to toe.
My feeble mental state.
The mindset that tries to compromise when crisis hits.
All of it.
I won't yield to this gate and its Ruler trying to subjugate me, nor to the stars giggling behind the scenes.
It might sound cringy, but Eternal Blessing has designated me as everyone's shield.
As if rejecting subordination to anyone.
Ruler or star—it doesn't matter.
I'll methodically slice off the ankles of those who ruined my previous life, starting from the bottom.
'Don't play by the rules.'
If I'm a Hunter, I need to show the face of a true predator.
〔……!!〕
Right, Hemo. You're in this with me.
I erased my blotchy past from my mind like rubbing it out with an eraser.
Hoo...
'Every time I use the Surprise Texture Mask, I feel like I'm not myself anymore.'
I've got to be careful.
...Tok, tok, tok.
The knocking was fading into a whisper.
'Maybe switch targets.'
The professor wasn't responding, so it was varying its approach.
Damn, what a flexible monster.
Not on my watch.
I moved closer to the door, leaving the professor and ajusshi behind, and casually asked ajusshi for a favor.
"Keep an eye on the professor while I buy us some time."
"You sure you'll be okay? That guy's not right in the head."
"Yeah... you're right."
"Ah! Hold on a sec!"
Ajusshi started yanking plugs from all the white appliances. Then he bound the professor tight with the cords. Thorough, without a single gap.
...Isn't that basically mummifying him?
"Done."
Ajusshi wiped the sweat of relief from his brow, looking proud. Couldn't bring myself to ruin the moment.
He flashed me a thumbs-up with a refreshed grin.
"Leave this to me."
"Solid as a rock."
In every way.
I meant it.
The fact that he didn't pry into how I knew this monster's identity or demand explanations was huge consideration. No time to waste anyway.
I finally responded to the knocking.
"Is that you, ma'am?"
...
It stopped. Time itself seemed frozen.
A few seconds later.
- ...Who's in my house?
She'd bitten the bait.
"You're the intruder, but you call it your house?"
I ignored ajusshi's grumbling for the moment.
I kept the conversation going casually.
"I'm Professor Kim's student. Korea University Medical School."
- Ah, I see... Then could you open the door? We have a guest; I need to entertain them...
"Forgot the passcode?"
- Battery must be dead. It can only be opened from inside.
"Ah. Got it."
A chill ran up my spine, but I flashed a triumphant smile.
"That's weird, though. This house doesn't have a digital lock—it's a key door."
-
Dead silence swept through the living room like a rat had died.
"Ma'am?"
Meow.
Rrrumble...
The surroundings shuddered. It was like we were inside the belly of a massive beast having a spasm.
Walls, floor, objects—everything rippled and undulated.
'Just as I thought.'
I'd suspected it, and my guess was spot on.
Geomdan New City has no river like that. So the river flowing outside the window was an artificially created environment.
Plus, this was a corridor-style apartment, and we'd entered facing the back of the complex. A dense green mountain loomed there.
'This is an Abyss Gate before it's ∅∅-grade.'
In an Abyss, every terrain feature has a reason for existing.
Facing the river, back to the mountain.
Baesanimsu.
At first glance, it seemed like prime gate real estate... but no.
The opposite. A flowing river implied underground water veins beneath the apartment. And a lush forest unfit for the city—practically a mountain range—clutching at the building's rear? Unnatural.
Mountain.
Damp, watery area.
A yokai matching those conditions.
Meow.
The decisive clue: the cat's cry right after I pointed out the contradiction.
Meow, meow, meow, meow, meow, meow.
Driving me insane.
'Just knock already.'
I suppressed the fear and recalled a snippet from an article I'd read in my past life. An interview with a survivor of an Abyss Gate.
Through the gap in the iron door... I heard my little brother's voice. "Hyung... hyung... open the door for me..." He was knocking, but... the voice was definitely his... but something felt off. Peeking through the crack... his face was too long... and he had six eyes... He kept begging to be let in, but my gut screamed not to open it... It scratched at the iron door all night in rage... In the morning, deep claw marks were gouged into the metal...
'Jangsanbeom.'
The yokai that mimics voices to lure and devour people. A spine-chilling Korean monster, perfectly suited for a rule-based ∅∅-grade Abyss Gate.
〔……!! ……!!!〕
Yeah, Hemo.
But calling out its name right away is the worst move.
The status window said it.
'The moment its name is spoken, it manifests in physical form.'
Right now, my golden dice eyes were stuck at 1. My combat power was low, making it too risky to face Jangsanbeom alone.
Screeeeech!
Ajusshi plugged his ears against the ear-piercing noise. Exposed, the Jangsanbeom urged us to open the door in this obnoxious way.
It's okay, Wonseok. That thing hasn't fully formed physically yet. It's just trying to scare us...
In my haste, I checked the red thread. The line stretching across the living room to the relief sculpture was taut.
"No choice, then."
I didn't like it, but to force a fight with this yokai, his cooperation was essential. No way around it.
As things headed toward catastrophe, the professor slumbered deeply, like he was under sedation for a colonoscopy.
"Darling... darling... darling..."
Murmuring wistful words in his sleep...
'Professor.'
Wake up quick!
* * *
Future dream.
An expression you'd expect from middle school graduation, at best.
People often mistake it for "career."
But Kim Yi-hak, who would later become the youngest professor at Korea University Medical School, harbored that somewhat naive romance even into high school.
From a young age, he dreamed of being a doctor.
For the money? Who knows.
Back then, all the top talents flocked to law school. Of course, medicine was one of the prestigious professions.
But Kim Yi-hak excelled exceptionally in academics. Considering the era, doctor wasn't the top choice. Money took a backseat to government salaries, power, and honor.
...Looking back now, he was almost excessively pure. Even a clear mind like his wouldn't have such a rosy view.
'I want to be someone who saves lives.'
His mantra during every counseling session with his homeroom teacher.
'I see. That makes sense.'
He meant it with utter sincerity. But the teachers just smiled ambiguously. They saw it as idealism or a model answer for his student record.
'I'm... serious...'
Taking in their soulless reactions, Kim Yi-hak vowed.
He'd become the ideal doctor he dreamed of, no matter what.
He breezed into Korea University Medical School, his first hurdle. Not only that—as a kid from the boonies, he stood out among the elite scholars. He gave his all in practicals and theory alike, seizing top results.
Naturally, he rocketed through the medical world. Envy, jealousy—he wore them like skin and ignored them.
But.
Humans are organic creatures inevitably shaped by their surroundings.
As social prestige and success grew, Kim Yi-hak felt increasingly distant from his original dream.
One day, after a grueling surgery.
He wiped the blood from his hands and glanced in the mirror. Instead of pride in saving a life, exhaustion shadowed his eyes darkly.
The moment he truly confronted himself.
Reciting the Hippocratic Oath mechanically. Irritated at critical emergency patients amid a packed schedule. Hesitant to operate on severe cases fearing intraoperative death...
He'd become the epitome of a dry, bureaucratic cog in society. Yet, staring at the still blood-flecked scalpel, he consoled himself.
'...I'm still holding the scalpel. Unlike those hospital politicians.'
Different, right? Totally different.
He tried to gather his worn sense of calling. But it didn't last.
In the adult world, hope and romance were illusions. Talented folks with strong professional ethics faded quietly, unable to scale the wall of reality.
In contrast, the power players surged ahead.
Kim Yi-hak grew afraid. Anxious that his achievements might crumble like a sandcastle.
'I'll aim for later.'
A few years would do it.
'Someday again...'
Thus, agonizing years dragged on.
His thirties were filled with compromises and deferrals.
The pride as a healer he'd vowed to cherish had rusted over from neglect, eroded beyond recognition.
By the time he realized... it was too late.
He'd become no different from the despised ones he'd ignored. Entangled interests made extraction impossible.
But it was fine.
Everyone lived like this.
Not just me.
Seniors and incoming juniors alike.
They started with sparkling eyes, but soon neglected patients to curry favor with the higher-ups, abandoning everything.
'It's not just me.'
Even self-justification grew tiresome.
Maybe following the path his seniors paved was the right direction. That's when his thoughts reached that point.
"Professor."
He met the dense fool still flailing in naive dreams.
Even his name was obnoxious.
And his actions more so.
That student was a thorn in Kim Yi-hak's side.