Chapter 13
Translator: True Detective
Cults of the Ghouls (5)
I used to wonder from time to time in the past.
If martial arts exist, could there really be no magic in this world? If there is, could I, who learned martial arts, also learn magic?
It was a question that remained unanswered for a long time. Because I was already cultivating martial arts, I didn't have the time or energy to dig another well to try and develop magic too.
Wasn't martial arts a power I barely realized after meditating for years and repeating plausible Breathing and Energy Circulation techniques through a method of blindly throwing myself at it?
There were many problems with doing that again to also acquire magic.
'So I had practically erased magic from my mind.'
With a thud, a single book fell onto the desk in my studio apartment. The book, which had been practically tossed, vibrated like a mobile phone.
'What on earth do I do with this crazy item?'
I glared at the grimoire I unintentionally acquired, the Cults of the Ghouls. The title, originally written in letters similar to but slightly different from English, was now translated into Korean for my reading convenience.
I don't know if it's equipped with a function that translates into an easy-to-read language for its owner, but I wasn't particularly happy that it became easier to read.
'This kind of thing is magic...?'
Because the magic dealt with in the Cults of the Ghouls was far too unethical and anti-social. Going beyond the level of martial arts where just getting caught makes it dangerous, it was at a level that naturally elicited a 'this is a bit much' just by glancing at it.
Eating corpses, having relations with corpses, offering sacrifices using magically treated corpses...
It was a grimoire so bizarre and terrible that the thought 'wouldn't any demonic arts manual from a martial arts novel be milder than this?' naturally came to mind.
'I was inwardly interested in the power called magic, and it was dangerous to just leave it, so I brought it, but...'
It's not the magic I was thinking of. A desire to throw the book away, shouting that this isn't magic, suddenly welled up.
You know, isn't there an image that commonly comes to mind when you say magic? Things like elemental magic like Fireball or circle magic.
The Cults of the Ghouls completely shattered my expectations of imagining such magic.
'Then again, from that crazy mage Marcel himself, he was practically a dark mage.'
I didn't expect in the slightest that it was a grimoire recording normal magic. It's just that there was magic that vastly exceeded the level I expected.
I merely thought it would be a type of magic that controls corpses or souls like a necromancer; I never thought in the slightest that it would deal with magic this bizarre.
'Surely not all magic in this world is like this?'
I shuddered at the ominous imagination that suddenly popped up.
Common sensically, there was a high probability that the Cults of the Ghouls dealt with exceptionally bizarre and terrible magic, but isn't there always a 'what if'. Besides, since it's magic, trying to apply common sense to a power that defies common sense like martial arts is laughable too.
Thinking up to that point, I let out a deep sigh to empty my complicated mind.
"Phew..."
The key is ultimately the disposal of the grimoire. It doesn't matter if I hold onto it like this, but the repulsive feeling makes it impossible not to pay attention to it.
'But if I dispose of it like throwing away an ordinary book, I can clearly see a major problem will inevitably occur.'
Not only could it fall into the hands of an evil mage like Marcel Lacrima, but even if it doesn't, the power called magic is alluring.
A normal person wouldn't directly put the contents written in the grimoire into practice, but the world is bound to have various bizarre and crazy humans.
Starting right now with me, am I not a bizarre and crazy human who actually created martial arts while practicing meaningless pseudo-martial arts?
There might be someone who tries it at least once with the thought that they have nothing to lose. That possibility itself was far too dangerous.
'If I had my way, I'd want to just dump it on the Bureau.'
The problem is the process. I can't just call them out of the blue and say I picked up a grimoire so come take it, can I? They will definitely try to interrogate me about the circumstances of how I obtained the grimoire.
Besides, since there's also the major incident I caused at the abandoned school, the Bureau will try to investigate and dig into me no matter what.
If that happens, there was a high possibility that information about me being able to use martial arts would be revealed in addition to the grimoire I originally intended to hand over.
'This is giving me a headache.'
I glared at the Cults of the Ghouls with the look of someone eyeing food whose expiration date had narrowly passed. Perhaps conscious of my gaze, the grimoire wiggled as if faltering and slightly distanced itself from me.
"Is this a book or a living creature?"
Absurd at the sight, a soliloquy popped out along with a hollow laugh. To think a book understands human words and even moves on its own. Rather, this was more fascinating than the contents inside the book.
"Hey, isn't there any somewhat moderate magic? Something less cruel and less disgusting."
I asked while poking the cover of the grimoire with my finger. At my question, the Cults of the Ghouls trembled as if telling me to wait a moment, then soon bounced up from the desk and flipped open.
However, the magic written on the opened page failed to satisfy my expectations. Because, starting from the name using the word Corpse Eating, whichever magic I picked was invariably bizarre.
"...This is the most moderate and clean magic?"
The magic the Cults of the Ghouls opened up and showed me according to my demand was the magic to directly create the monster called a ghoul that Marcel Lacrima had summoned.
It's a magic that gives the feeling of reviving a corpse by steeping it in various chemicals and substances and treating it with a magical incantation, but it was practically similar to making salted seafood with a corpse.
Certainly, there was no need to eat a corpse or screw a corpse, so it seemed to have picked the most moderate magic possible according to my demand, but...
"I think I know why the Bureau exists."
A sigh naturally came out at the attitude of the grimoire, which seemingly boasted and asked how its skill was.
"Since items like this exist blatantly in the world, the Bureau is also trying desperately to conceal mysteries somehow."
Wouldn't it be better to just burn it away completely with the True Fire of Samadhi? That thought kept coming to mind.
'It's a truly annoying item, this.'
But I couldn't even put that into practice. Because, in truth, it was a method I had already tried before bringing the grimoire from the abandoned school.
Whatever magic was placed on the grimoire itself, with my current level, it was impossible to burn this grimoire with the True Fire of Samadhi.
'I also tried tearing it to shreds with Sword Qi and blowing it away in the wind, but a bizarre repulsive force offset the Sword Qi.'
Regardless of the level of Marcel Lacrima who handled the grimoire, it seemed the grimoire Cults of the Ghouls itself possessed a considerable status.
Or the skill of the mage who authored this book is so outstanding as to place magic capable of easily offsetting my Sword Qi.
Either way, it wasn't a very good situation. Feeling a needless headache coming on, I opened my backpack and shoved the Cults of the Ghouls inside.
'If I can neither destroy it nor hand it over, it would be better to carry it safely in my bosom as much as possible.'
If I get swept up in an anomalous phenomenon next time, I'll have to appropriately create an opportunity to meet the Bureau and dump it on them.
With those thoughts in mind, I changed my clothes. Because my clothes were quite soaked in blood like during the Mount Geumjeong Forked Path.
"What excuse do I make for the wrecked abandoned school..."
While doing so, I remembered the abandoned school I fled from as if running away without even fulfilling my shift hours, thinking the Bureau might come.
I didn't exactly regret that choice, but communicating and explaining the situation of the abandoned school covered in corpses and blood to the employer, the building owner, was a separate issue.
—Vooom!
However, fortunately, it seemed I didn't need to particularly worry about that part.
"Hello?" [Ah, Mr. Kim Sihyeon. The government suddenly said they are starting the abandoned school construction from today. I don't think you need to come out for the night guard duty starting today. Still, since you handled the job cleanly and well, I'll calculate your salary as a full month according to the original contract and send it.]
Because right before I finished changing clothes and went out to attend my university lectures, I could grasp the rough situation through a phone call I received.
"Understood. It was a cushy job, so it's a shame. Please contact me if you look for a similar part-time job next time." [Haha! Understood. If a similar job comes up next time, I'll contact you first, Mr. Kim Sihyeon.]
Unlike the anomalous phenomena I had resolved up until now, perhaps because it was an incident that occurred openly in reality, it seemed the Bureau moved swiftly.
'Still, they don't completely suck at their jobs.'
Ending the call with the employer in a good mood, I stepped out the door feeling much more refreshed as I checked the hefty salary deposited into my account.
'Even the troublesome problems have all been solved, except for the disposal of the grimoire.'
Now, I just need to use the money that came in to get a sword.
Thinking that way, today was a quite refreshing morning.
"...What a fucked up morning."
9 AM, as a bright sun rose. Kang Yuna, HR Head, who came to work at the Bureau and sat at her desk, pressed her forehead.
Letting out a sigh, she stared at the pitch-black monitor whose power hadn't turned on. On the monitor faintly reflecting her image, Kang Yuna saw her brittle hair and deeper dark circles and let out a sigh.
Since she just came to work after working overtime until 3 AM and sleeping in the Bureau break room, it was a matter of course.
"Following the death of Marcel Lacrima, to think even the grimoire Cults of the Ghouls he possessed has gone missing."
The previous night, an emergency was declared at the Bureau. Because an immense mystery suddenly clashed at a certain abandoned school on the outskirts of Busan at midnight.
The Bureau urgently tried to dispatch agents to grasp the scene, but by the time the Bureau arrived, the entire situation was already over.
In less than a mere hour, one of the two mysteries disappeared, ending the situation.
'Is it that man again this time?'
What the Bureau discovered upon arriving at the scene was over a hundred and dozens of ghoul corpses, and the corpse of Marcel Lacrima who had successfully undergone ghoulification.
Among them, Marcel Lacrima specifically met a gruesome end, looking as if his entire right upper body had been completely obliterated.
'To think it's a mage this time, following the anomalous phenomena.'
There wasn't a single clue to figure out who struck down Marcel Lacrima, but Kang Yuna thought the culprit who murdered Marcel Lacrima this time was also the doing of the man who resolved the previous anomalous phenomena.
There were two reasons.
One was that, as far as was known in Korea, there was no powerhouse in Busan at a level to face Marcel Lacrima; the other was that the cause of death for the ghouls and Marcel Lacrima recovered from the abandoned school was physical damage caused by blunt force trauma.
Just as if they died in the same manner as the entities at Yeongshin Elementary School.
'Still, it's a relief it ended safely. Marcel Lacrima is dead, and we hastily took over the crime scene abandoned school at dawn in cooperation with the government and closed it under the pretext of construction, so...'
Kang Yuna, who had brought a mixed coffee placed in her office, took a sip of coffee and turned on her computer. On the monitor that turned on with it, a single document delivered through the Bureau's internal network appeared.
"Kim Sihyeon, is it."
It was a personal information document containing the details of the 21-year-old young man who had taken on the night guard part-time job at the abandoned school where the incident occurred this time.
It was also a document she had asked Yoo Shinhyuk, the agent who survived the Monkey Dream, to check as soon as he came to work, just in case.
"We finally found him."
At last, the Bureau stepped on his tail.