Double Cross
Two hours earlier.
—So you knew about it?
“Yes.”
—Nothing more to say?
“There is, but finishing the task you assigned comes first.”
—Understood.
After ending the call with the Director, Kim Seojun stared blankly down at the darkened screen.
Stupid kid.
A monster voluntarily reporting herself to the Director—there were limits to how outlandish things could get.
Even if Pecia herself stood on the side of humanity, and even if the Director formed the core of the future resistance forces… that did not mean the two could simply become one.
Because the Director was human.
In a position responsible for every hunter in South Korea, was there any guarantee he would risk danger just to cooperate with a monster?
That was why Kim Seojun had intended to confirm Pecia’s intentions first and foremost—whether she might betray them, why her behavior had suddenly changed, and so on. He planned to reveal her identity to the Director only after securing solid evidence.
Only then could he confidently assert something like, “We must cooperate with Pecia.”
“Fortunately, he doesn’t seem inclined to kill her right away.”
If the Director had already marked Pecia as a dangerous element, this moment would have been the perfect opportunity.
But from the tone that had come through the earpiece, the atmosphere hadn’t been bad.
At the very least, he had bought time until the investigation finished and he could deliver his report.
“Sian, set up the barrier. Winter, reroute the lines.”
—OK!
—Got it!
The wind cut off in an instant, and the atmosphere rippled ever so faintly.
It was a measure focused solely on communication jamming, so natural that most people would never notice the anomaly.
Confirming that every mana signature and radio wave in the area had been severed, Kim Seojun slipped on the snake mask and started walking toward the white building ahead.
“Oh my, if it isn’t Black Serpent-nim? What brings you all the way out here?”
A young man in a white lab coat greeted him with a bright, easy voice.
Kim Seojun answered indifferently.
“There’s only one reason anyone visits the Mental Arts Research Institute. Any progress on the ego-removal experiments?”
“Huh? Haha, is this some kind of hidden-camera prank?”
“I’m not joking.”
“Hmm… then I think you’ve got the wrong address.”
The man smiled and insisted they conducted no such inhumane experiments.
But this place received support from the World Ability Organization specifically to develop Berserkers—a group whose goal was to strip humans of fear and pain through spells, forge them into unbreakable weapons, and eventually even control monsters.
Ego-removal experiments would have been the most basic stage. They had almost certainly succeeded long ago.
Moreover, in the future visions this facility appeared as one branch of the cult.
Instead of worshipping the Royals, they had harbored the ambition to control them directly—only to be purged by the cult’s upper ranks once the scheme was discovered.
The reason mental-arts research thrived here was entirely for that purpose. The ego-removal experiments were a key project aimed at reducing Royals to a zombie-like state.
They must know about her as well.
When it came to mental arts, Pecia stood alone. Not even other Royals could match her level, let alone ordinary monsters.
So of course the institute would have tried to make contact, hoping to reverse-engineer her skills.
“But this is troublesome… Seeing them lie already, the conversation isn’t going to go smoothly.”
“Black Serpent-nim?”
Wherever you went, cultists kept their mouths shut.
Whether from fanaticism or some separate means of coercion, prying their lips open was never easy.
After a brief moment of thought, Kim Seojun decided on the direct approach—he intended to erase the institute entirely.
“I was going to leave it alone because it seemed like it would twist history too much. But no matter how I look at it, it bothers me.”
“……?”
“Killing each other over blasphemy or whatever is nothing special, but you lot were crushed far too thoroughly. Surely there was some real progress, right?”
The man asked back in genuine bewilderment.
“What on earth have you been talking about this whole time?”
“Endros von Thane.”
“……!”
The man’s brow twitched for a split second.
It was an obvious slip, but Kim Seojun—who already knew everything—paid it no mind and simply pointed at the ground beneath the institute.
“You’ve been diligently offering things down here. Offerings, or Mental Power. Trying to receive ‘His’ mana for your research. Am I wrong?”
“…….”
The man’s mind went blank.
Endros von Thane.
That was the name of the sixth Royal the cult planned to summon after Pecia. Cult members would die instantly just for thinking of speaking that name to an outsider; it was information no external hunter could possibly know.
What is this? Should I ambush him?
Not only had their cult affiliation been exposed, but the man also knew exactly whom this branch worshipped. It meant a catastrophic leak of internal information—they had to kill him or capture and interrogate him no matter what.
But Black Serpent was estimated S-class. Far from killing him, the institute was far more likely to be the ones getting annihilated.
While the man wrestled with the dilemma, Kim Seojun gave a derisive snort.
“He must be pouring out mana thinking you people are working hard for him. As expected, types like you can never be trusted. Not only did you betray your fellow humans—you’re even stabbing your new master in the back?”
The man glared at Black Serpent.
“Hey now. The joke’s going a little far. Even if you are the Director’s personal guard.”
“It’s true, isn’t it? You wanted to put one powerful monster to work and live large, but things aren’t going the way you planned.”
Their plan had been simple: try first, and if it failed, remain loyal to the cult as before.
But a mere human handling a Royal’s mana was never going to be easy. As expected, the research was currently stuck in a quagmire.
A secret name followed by deliberate provocation.
Before long the entire institute had fallen deathly silent. The whir of experimental equipment and the murmur of conversation both vanished; only the occasional ripple of activating magic circles remained.
Armed researchers began closing in. Kim Seojun fixed the man in front of him with a cold stare.
“What exactly are you trying to do?”
The man looked at him with a stiff expression, then let out a long sigh.
“Who the hell are you?”
“Black Serpent.”
“I mean how and where did you learn all this. Lies won’t work between us. Let’s finish this quickly.”
The question came from the possibility that Black Serpent might be a fellow cult member.
Simply knowing the sixth Royal’s true name was already abnormal. Probability-wise, that explanation ranked highest.
Realizing the man’s intent, Kim Seojun considered for a moment, then answered.
Perhaps things would go a little more smoothly this way.
“Actually, I serve Lady Pecia von Chiffonside.”
“Ah……!”
In an instant the researchers’ expressions transformed. Color returned to their dark faces; hostility faded and relief bloomed.
Looks that practically shouted, What—he’s one of us!
The man’s hands came together politely in front of him.
“I apologize for not recognizing you. I never imagined you were on our side.”
One of the strongest hunters in the country had just declared himself a cult member. He could not suppress the smile spreading across his lips.
The surrounding researchers muttered in awe.
“Black Serpent was a cultist?”
“Insane.”
“Whoa, this game is over…… We hit the absolute jackpot.”
Kim Seojun smiled quietly and asked,
“It’s fine that you recognized me now. I’d like to meet the research director.”
Only then did the man reveal his own identity.
“Actually, I am the research director. Let’s go inside and I’ll explain everything. I’ll also clear the false accusation that we’re betraying Lord Endros.”
“Good. Lead the way.”
Kwaang-!!
“Kuaaak! Why—why are you doing this, Black Serpent-nim?!”
A dark-gray shockwave erupted from Kim Seojun’s entire body like a burst of light. Experimental equipment and researchers alike were hurled backward and slammed into the walls.
Security personnel tried to counterattack, but the shockwave that began in the basement surged upward in an instant, tearing through every floor and obliterating the entire ground level.
Puh-eong-!
The sky opened wide and clear. Moments later, powdered building debris rained down onto the fallen researchers.
Most died instantly; the survivors were unconscious.
Only the A-class research director, Feln, remained, gasping for breath behind a protective magic circle.
Kim Seojun stared blankly at the white piles stacked in one corner of the underground warehouse.
Infant skeletons—discovered while he had been extracting information. He had approached the investigation half in jest, but the moment he saw those remains, only rage and murderous intent filled his mind.
“……Adaptive Reflection Magic, is it.”
A spell that returned an opponent’s mental attack with even greater force, dominating them in reverse.
Theoretically, with vast mana and a body capable of releasing it in a single instant, even a Royal could be brought under control.
Yes. The institute had been searching for children suited to high-level mental arts, intending to raise them. Of course, the sacrifices along the way could number in the thousands—or tens of thousands.
“Cough…! Cough! Black Serpent-nim. There seems to be some misunderstanding. Please, just ask anything. I’ll explain everything.”
“Nothing to ask. Just die.”
“No—why on earth……”
“You ask because you don’t know? After kidnapping infants and doing that?”
The research director’s eyes went round. Then he chuckled, shoulders shaking.
“Ah—to think I’d make a mistake like this.”
“……?”
“You’re not a devotee of Lady Pecia at all, are you?”
“…….”
“No wonder. The way you started with threats the moment you walked in felt off. However you found out, impressive—really impressive.”
The director’s eyes froze over with cold light as he locked onto Kim Seojun.
“You’re going to die soon.”
Kim Seojun asked back, unimpressed.
“Why?”
“You wouldn’t know, but the one you just named has already been summoned. I kept quiet because I was afraid you’d kill me for pretending to know, but since I’m going to die anyway, this isn’t so bad either. Kuhahahahahaha!!!”
The research director burst into mad, deranged laughter. For a cultist, death was a blessing that could arrive at any moment. Things had gone a little sideways, but if this opportunity could eliminate an S-class hunter, it was hardly a losing trade.
Kim Seojun frowned, looking thoroughly displeased.
“Have you lost your mind.”
“You’re the one who’s lost your mind! Hehe—do you know what happens when I die?! A cooperation request will go straight to Magician Queen. In the name of none other than Lord Endros!”
Kim Seojun’s brows drew together.
“Magician Queen means Pecia, I take it.”
“That’s right. She will kill the one who killed me. So you can thoroughly understand what it means to lay a hand on a cult executive.”
“…….”
“Hehe—begging now won’t help. You knew the name but didn’t know about the summoning, did you? Look at that scared face.”
Kim Seojun tapped his temple for a moment, lost in thought.
Apparently this idiot of a monster had managed to expose her own summoning even to her supposed allies.
No—when she’s using the name so openly, not knowing would be the strange part.
Having sorted his thoughts, Kim Seojun regarded the research director with cool detachment. He genuinely could not tell whether the director was a complete fool or whether Pecia was simply a lunatic.
“So your colleagues will go to her? To ask her to kill me?”
“That’s right.”