BAR-207, Face Parasite - 5

"Hah— hah— hah— hah...!"

Kim Mi-ryeo tore the air out of her lungs in ragged gasps. Her heart slammed against her ribs as if it meant to burst through them.

She had almost died. Just now.

A new personality of the Larva of Many Faces — one that had never been observed before — had looked at her, if only for an instant.

The moment that personality cried out, Kim Mi-ryeo was certain her life would end here. Her mind felt as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠though it were sinking into an abyss. It was, quite literally, the sensation of dying. An overwhelming, absolute helplessness.

If one judged solely by what she had felt, it would be no exaggeration to say she had already died once and come back.

But Kim Mi-ryeo did not die.

...It's thanks to Ara's talisman.

The Talisman burst with a sharp pop, and in the same instant the dying sensation vanished cleanly away. Kim Mi-ryeo fled for the external control room without so much as a backward glance.

It had been a moment of genuine, mortal peril. And yet the corners of her mouth, in her extreme excitement, had curled upward — just slightly.

New information. Information about religion, no less.

This, at the very least, proved that what Ara had been telling her all this time was not a complete fabrication.

In the external control room, Kim Mi-ryeo assembled the situation with ruthless speed.

That new personality. It had appeared the instant Ara recognized the symbol — ✞. Judging by the conversation between the two entities, the mark belonged to some religion.

What on earth is that symbol...?

Her curiosity detonated. Her mind raced; dopamine flooded her in a bright, greedy rush.

Ah. If only the talisman hadn't burst, she would have been able to watch that conversation with her own eyes.

Kim Mi-ryeo resolved, then and there, that from now on she would ask Ara to keep no fewer than ten talismans on her person.

The situation itself was grim.

The Rank 3 anomaly's present Mind Value stood at four thousand two hundred. It had already soared far beyond the limits of a Rank 3 — it had even overtaken the Mind Value of the unidentified entity that had appeared not long ago. No. The Changwi.

Because the reading had spiked so violently, every observation instrument in the containment facility had gone completely dead. Audio. Screens. Everything else.

Needless to say, containing an Anomaly mattered far more than observing one. The instant the larva's Mind Value surged, every scrap of resource energy that had been distributed across the equipment had been poured into the Specter Energy Barrier.

In short: the two entities could not break out of containment. Not right now. But neither could anyone see what was happening inside.

The barrier still held at eighty-eight percent. At that level it would last a good five minutes without strain — and this was not some ordinary containment site. This was Seoul Branch Headquarters. Five minutes of lead time was not merely enough to prepare a response. It was more than generous.

When an emergency of this kind broke out, the Bureau typically reached for one of two measures.

"Director, shall we prepare for incineration?"

The first was to incinerate the entity.

"Shall we prepare the seal?"

The second was to seal the entire space, the entity included.

In Kim Mi-ryeo's judgment, neither was the answer.

"No."

Cold sweat still ran down her face. Even so, her voice was pitched high with excitement as she issued orders to her subordinates.

"Keep the Specter Energy Barrier at twenty percent. No lower."

"Then the remaining resource energy..."

"Invest all of it in restoring the observation equipment."

She did not stop there.

"A-Alpha Team. Grade 4 firepower authorized. Stand by at the containment door."

With A-Alpha Team in place, even the worst-case scenario could be handled. She had to see this. Whatever the cost. And it would mean nothing unless she observed it herself.

On her orders, the observation equipment began to come back online. The moment the image resolved, Kim Mi-ryeo could only stare.

"...What the hell is that."

Behind Ara, a colossal general was standing.

Shamans like me are, contrary to what one might expect, a rather cowardly breed.

Know your enemy and know yourself, and you need not fear a hundred battles. Under a master worth the name, I studied every evil spirit and every Evil God across the eight provinces of Joseon, and I drilled myself in the surest means of dealing with each of them. So long as the thing before me was one I already knew, I did not lose.

...But this black thing was one I did not know.

That was why I could not rashly call a god down into my body. I had no certainty which deity would thrash this darkness properly. Descend the wrong one, and the god itself might suffer grave harm and take offense at me.

In the end, I had no choice but to endure on my own power for as long as I could, and think.

Nnngh.

I was beginning to regret a few things. I should have pushed Kim Mi-ryeo far harder for permission to craft Mugu. A Shinkal, a bell... even a single fan would have tripled what I could do. From now on I ought to go about with the characters carved right into my skin.

I had to stop thinking. The black thing had begun to move in earnest.

Insolent thing.

It meant to crush me not with physical force, but with the power of an Evil God — with authority alone. Which, from where I stood, could not have been more convenient. In my present condition I could not hope to match it in raw force. But against authority of that sort, simply reciting the Cheoyong-ga was more than enough.

When its wicked power failed to take hold, the black thing faltered, if only slightly.

"You worm of a spirit, playacting at godhood. You're the one who should kneel."

"You're twice as loud as I am, you stinking wretch."

"Do you know what we called the likes of you, where I once lived? A horo bastard. That's right — you wretched son of a horo dog."

I could not read its face, but I could read its bearing. The black thing was thoroughly rattled.

"Now I look at you, even your eyes are addled. Does this look like a god's power to you?"

I let a sneer touch my mouth.

"This is solely my own power."

I had no idea why it thought such a thing impossible. Thanks to that, though, I had bought all the time I needed. In my head, the calculation was already finished — I knew which god to take into my body.

I recited the Prayer for the Descent of the Sword Dance Divine General. Master used to say I was the only Mudang who could receive a god by so simple a method.

When the recitation ended, I called out.

An overwhelming divine presence flooded my body, and in the next breath the form became visible to the naked eye. Behind me stood a Martial God.

The Martial God held a sword. A colossal blade that could cleave any evil spirit in a single stroke. I felt the weight of it settle into my grip, and I spoke to the black thing.

In the brilliant light of that spiritual energy, I could see the black thing's face at last.

Puhah.

Laughter burst out of me.

"What a thoroughly paltry face!"

The black thing's expression twisted violently. But then, it truly was a creature wearing the husk of an Evil God. It must have had something left to fall back on — its wicked energy began to swell in a great, ugly surge.

The Twisted Victim. That was the name of the god worshipped by the Chaos ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Cult — the heretical faith Kim Mi-ryeo had told me of.

Other personalities' heads began to sprout from the black thing's body. The blonde woman was among them. Every face was twisted past its limit, wracked with pain.

Hmm. Just as I thought.

Even a Western evil spirit, it seemed, was not so different in its wickedness from the spirits of Joseon. The other personalities had been offerings this black thing had swallowed with its own jaws — tribute for a human sacrifice. It meant to descend an Evil God and set ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that power against me.

I had been waiting for precisely this.

The reason I had not cut it down the instant I called a god into my body was those personalities. I had been concerned for them.

At once I began the gut, dancing the sword dance as I worked. It was the first time I had performed the geommu in this new body, and even I was startled by how familiar the movements felt. Frankly, I could dance it more gracefully now than I ever had in my old flesh.

My eyes met the woman's. I smiled at her.

"Woman. Be not afraid."

This was not a sword-dance gut to drive out an evil spirit. It was a Requiem Dance — a rite to soothe pitiful, lost souls.

One by one, the personalities of the many-faced larva began to vanish. They no longer wore faces twisted by pain. They wore expressions of the deepest peace.

I thought I heard the woman's voice.

Yes, woman.

And so every last personality of the many-faced larva was extinguished. The black thing looked at me now with an expression close to despair.

"Enough. Did I not tell you plainly."

I had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠heard what I needed about the Evil God. I had performed the rites for the pitiful souls. There was nothing left to see.

"I said I would tear you apart and kill you."

I brought the Martial God's sword down in a single vertical stroke.

The black thing was torn in two.