Chapter 3
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Carnage in the Alley
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Siren wails filled the alley.
Three police cars blocked the entrance. Red and blue emergency lights flashed alternately, staining the brick walls. A police line was strung up, and detectives bustled about.
"Step back! This is a restricted area!"
A uniformed officer held back the swelling crowd of onlookers. People held up their phones to film, murmuring among themselves.
Deeper in the alley, one detective from the violent crimes unit surveyed the scene. A veteran with twenty years on the force. He'd walked countless murder scenes in his time. Dismemberments, body dumps, serial killings. He'd seen every kind of human filth and the atrocities they committed.
But even he could barely stomach this one.
"Jesus..."
The curse slipped out unbidden.
Blood was splattered everywhere. Not just on the walls and ground—telephone poles and drainpipes too. Several bodies lay scattered about, but none were intact enough to identify.
One had nothing left above the neck, the cut impossibly clean.
Another was just a torso, organs spilling out. The severance there was unnatural too. Not torn, not sliced.
And the worst... something that had once been human. Now just a compressed red lump. Bones and flesh mashed together, reduced to a third of its original size.
"Detective, this is..."
His junior partner trailed off. His face had turned green.
"If you're gonna puke, do it over there. Don't contaminate the scene."
"Y-yes, sir... Urk!"
The rookie staggered out of the alley.
The veteran lit a cigarette. His hand trembled faintly.
'What kind of psycho does shit like this...'
Twenty years of experience—his instincts—were screaming alarms.
'This is dangerous!'
Just then, a commotion erupted at the alley mouth.
"Hold it, this is a restricted area!"
The uniform's voice rang out.
The detective turned.
Two people were approaching the police line.
A man and a woman. The man looked early to mid-thirties; the woman about ten years younger. He wore a black coat over a black suit; she a dark jacket and neat attire.
The detective narrowed his eyes at them.
Their gait was odd. Steady, unshaken. They walked through the chaos without a flicker of disturbance, as if this were routine—as if they'd come exactly where they belonged.
And their eyes.
The woman glanced briefly into the alley. She would've seen the bodies. The blood. But her expression didn't change. Composed, like checking a traffic light on the commute to work.
A chill ran up the detective's spine.
'What the hell are these two?'
Twenty years on the job told him: these weren't ordinary people.
Still, he had to block them. This was a murder scene, restricted access.
The detective stepped forward.
"Hold it."
The man stopped and met his gaze. No hostility, but an inexplicable sense of being overwhelmed. Like the man knew precisely where he stood—and that it was his place.
"This is a homicide scene. No entry except for authorized personnel."
"......Haven't gotten the call yet?"
The man asked calmly.
"Call? What call?"
Right then, the detective's phone buzzed in his pocket.
He checked the caller. Police HQ. Direct line.
"......Hello?"
-Two people should be arriving at that scene. Let them in.
The voice was familiar. The chief's chief secretary.
"Pardon? But this is a homicide, violent crimes jurisdiction..."
-Let them in.
The tone was firm.
-Don't ask questions... Oh, and this call never happened.
Beep beep beep...
The line went dead after delivering the message.
The detective stared blankly at his phone.
He'd gotten brusque orders like this before. Pressure from above to bury cases, make them disappear. Plenty in twenty years.
But this felt different.
Strange.
He'd sensed it the moment he saw those two. Something off. And now this call from on high to let them through.
Normally, it'd piss him off. Who the hell are you to interfere in my scene?
But now... he was almost relieved to have an excuse. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he wanted to stand in their way.
"......Go ahead."
The detective stepped aside.
The man gave a slight nod—greeting or thanks, hard to say. Then he and the woman ducked under the tape.
The detective watched their retreating backs.
'Who the hell are they?'
Seo Jin-hyeok walked the scene, taking it in.
The stench of blood hung heavy. It would've turned a civilian's stomach, but he was used to it.
Han So-young stood beside him.
"......What is this?"
"Can't tell from looking?"
"No, I'm asking because I can."
Han So-young's face was grim.
"It's an Anomaly. A high-grade one."
Seo Jin-hyeok nodded.
"Looks B-grade or higher."
"B-grade?"
Han So-young's eyes widened.
The Special Disaster Response Headquarters—nicknamed the Special Division. A secret organization unknown to civilians or most government agencies, tasked with handling 'Anomaly phenomena' in Korea.
Anomalies. Beings and events defying scientific explanation. Ghosts, yokai, curses, otherworldly entities. The Special Division classified them, responded to them, and eliminated them when necessary.
Anomalies were graded by threat level.
E-grade. No threat to civilians. Naturally dissipates or resolved with simple measures.
D-grade. Minor harm to civilians. Handled by one or two trained agents.
C-grade. Major harm to civilians. Requires team deployment.
B-grade. Capable of mass casualties. Needs special equipment and experts.
A-grade. Disaster-scale destruction. Mobilizes the entire HQ. Three in Korea's history.
S-grade. National extinction-level threat. Requires international cooperation. Five worldwide.
And above that.
Ω-grade. Human extinction potential. Uncontainable. Theoretical only—no confirmed cases.
Han So-young scanned the surroundings again.
"Heard the witness statements? They saw nothing. Said the victims just suddenly tore apart, burst open, folded up. Mentioned something transparent, but no clear shape."
"I know."
Seo Jin-hyeok crouched by the bodies, gloved hands examining the cuts.
"That headless one. Look at the cut. No blade, no saw—no tool makes a clean break like that. It's like molecular evaporation."
He pointed to the torso.
"This one's weirder. Not torn, not cut. Just... separated. Like it was always in two pieces."
Finally, the red lump.
"And this... You think a human body compresses like that? Bones, flesh, organs mashed together?"
Han So-young had no reply.
Seo Jin-hyeok stood.
"......So definitely B-grade or higher?"
"Can't say. Not enough info."
Seo Jin-hyeok eyed the bloodied ground. A single clear footprint. Invisible to civilians, but plain to him.
"The perp stood right here."
"Perp?"
"The one who summoned the Anomaly. Or maybe the Anomaly itself in human form."
"A humanoid Anomaly...?"
"Could be. Or not."
Han So-young's expression darkened.
Seo Jin-hyeok pointed to an item on the ground. A folding knife.
"But this is clear. Not random. Victims probably started it. Got counterattacked."
"......So the Anomaly took the human's side?"
"Or protected its master."
Seo Jin-hyeok's eyes sharpened.
"Someone might be controlling an Anomaly. At least B-grade."
Han So-young swallowed hard.
"......We need to find them."
"Yeah."
Seo Jin-hyeok headed for the alley exit.
"Report to HQ. Request grade assessment meeting and tracking team approval. We move fast on this."
"Got it."
Han So-young pulled out her phone.
Seo Jin-hyeok stepped out and looked up at the sky. Stars twinkled.
'A human commanding Anomalies...'
Unprecedented in Special Division history.
Anomalies weren't tools. You eliminated, sealed, or evaded them. Controlling one...
"A real monster's shown up."
Seo Jin-hyeok muttered.
Ian slipped out of the alley and wandered aimlessly.
The streets bustled with people. No one glanced his way. No one knew he'd just killed four men.
'Killed them.'
The fact stirred nothing in him.
After eons in the Backrooms, he'd slain countless things. Smilers, Hounds, Partygoers, Skinstealers, Beasts. Far stronger, crueler, more horrific than humans.
Compared to them, those human deaths were nothing.
Ian walked on and spotted a small park.
A pocket park in the city heart. A few trees, benches, a little fountain. Streetlamps cast a soft glow.
Ian sat on a bench.
He just sat, doing nothing.
Wind rustled the leaves. A soft shh-shh. Grass and earth scents tickled his nose.
Ian closed his eyes.
No wind in the Backrooms.
Air stagnated, thick with rot and dust. The smell of slow decay.
Here, wind blew.
Cool, refreshing wind.
Ian sat like that for a long while.
When he opened his eyes, he noticed a vending machine nearby.
He stood, approached, fed in a bill, selected a canned coffee.
Clunk.
The can dropped. He picked it up. Cold.
He cracked it open and took a sip.
Bitter and sweet.
Cheap instant coffee tang. Over-sugared sweetness.
Yet it tasted incredible.
A flavor he'd forgotten.
Ian carried the can back to the bench and sipped slowly.
Savoring the simple pleasure, he gazed at the sky.
Seoul's lights drowned most stars. But clouds drifted lazily, and the moon hung there.
How long since he'd seen the sky?
The moon?
Ian sat, staring upward, for a long, long time.