Grim Reaper Tutorial (2)

Ju Kang-rim finished his brief rest and headed out somewhere with Yoo Wol-ryeong. She was driving a silver Bentley. Even with his shallow knowledge—since he had no real interest in cars—it looked like an outrageously expensive model, complete with all sorts of custom options.

The sky in the direction they were heading twisted in an eerie, perfectly circular swirl. It was the landscape around Bukhansan Mountain, where a Gate was opening. Ju Kang-rim could see why grim reapers called Gates "cheonmun." The Gate that had started at Bukhansan and grown to engulf most of northern Seoul was one of the top five largest in history, right up until the world met its end.

"At this point..." Ju Kang-rim spoke to Yoo Wol-ryeong as she drove. "People thought the Gate would close soon enough, and life would go back to normal. Most Gates close on their own, after all."

It was probably what most people hoped for. But as time passed, there was no news of it closing. Instead, rumors spread of zombie hunters and the military retreating because they couldn't hold back the hordes.

"It wasn't long before the government finally admitted they'd abandoned Gangbuk. The first moment humanity bowed to a Gate."

It wasn't fair to blame the government. A Gate this massive was unprecedented, and so was one opening in a huge city and refusing to close. Amid the chaos, they chose to protect at least everything south of the Han River.

"That's when I realized: the world I knew was gone for good."

"...The world you knew was an illusion from the start, Mr. Ju."

Yoo Wol-ryeong spoke quietly as she drove. "You just never noticed. Immortals have been hiding among humanity all along. As long as they exist, the boundary between the living world and the underworld is as thin as an eggshell."

She was right. Grim reapers and immortals had existed in legends for ages. Even the restless dead. They were simply separated from us.

"'The boundary crumbles' means exactly that. Stepping into a world we've never seen—and don't want."

Screech.

Yoo Wol-ryeong's car came to a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stop. Armed soldiers were checking vehicles and people at the Banpo Bridge. Most of the crowd was crossing from the north, so the soldiers eyed the few heading north with suspicion.

"What's this about?"

Yoo Wol-ryeong handed over a business card instead of answering. The soldier glanced curiously between her and Ju Kang-rim, then waved them through.

Ju Kang-rim stared, wondering what kind of card could get them past without a word. Yoo Wol-ryeong passed it to him.

'Zombie Hunting Specialists Samdo—CEO Yoo Wol-ryeong.'

"Zombie hunting specialists..."

"You need a plausible cover to operate in the living world. I'll get you a card soon enough, Mr. Ju. Just wait."

"Uh, yeah. So all the other hunters are..."

"Just me, you, and one other. She's a grim reaper too, of course."

A zombie hunting company made of grim reapers. A shell corporation, sure, but Ju Kang-rim was impressed by how solid their setup in the living world seemed. Yeomra wasn't just lounging around in the underworld.

At any rate, he got why the soldiers let them through so easily. Who'd stop zombie hunters from walking straight into a zombie-infested zone?

Even late at night, countless refugees were crossing the bridge southward.

Refugees? It's not even war.

The government called it temporary evacuation due to the Gate, and most believed them. But Ju Kang-rim knew better. None of these people would ever return to Gangbuk.

Things would worsen until South Korea collapsed, governments worldwide crumbled one by one, and all humanity met an equal end in the flood of death.

That was humanity's finale.

"Feels like crossing a river you can never come back from."

Ju Kang-rim gave a bitter smile as they crossed the Han. But Yoo Wol-ryeong replied flatly, her expression unchanged.

"We've already crossed back from that river. To mend the crumbling boundary."

Not long after crossing the bridge, desolate neighborhoods began to appear. Areas where evacuation was already complete.

Ju Kang-rim scanned the eerie streets and said, "Couldn't we have regressed before the Gangbuk incident?"

"Impossible. Biman records start from this point. No choice."

"Biman? This thing?"

Ju Kang-rim held up the phone-like device in his hand. Yoo Wol-ryeong just nodded lightly, offering no further explanation.

Whatever else Biman could do, regression further back was off-limits. The Gangbuk crisis was inevitable, even with the regression.

"This seems like a good starting point."

Yoo Wol-ryeong pulled up in front of a shadowy villa complex.

"Plenty of zombies inside. Send them all to the afterlife."

Ding.

An alert appeared on Ju Kang-rim's Biman too.

A standard repeatable quest with one special bonus condition. Zombies averaged about 2 soul coins each, so roughly 30 per ten—not bad.

"Yeomra must've sent the detailed mission. I'll pick you up before dawn."

"Ah, yes. See you in the morning."

Yoo Wol-ryeong nodded lightly and drove off. Left alone in a zombie-infested neighborhood in the dead of night, Ju Kang-rim felt a pang of awkwardness, but it wasn't unexpected. Midnight zombie hunts weren't new to him either.

"...Brings back old memories."

Ju Kang-rim lowered his hand. Whoosh—the Saingeom flowed down like mist and solidified in his grip. The feel was still awkward, but summoning and dismissing it came naturally now.

He stepped into the villa. Since evacuation was done, no human presence lingered. But if it had gone smoothly, Yoo Wol-ryeong wouldn't have brought him here.

Drawing on his zombie hunter days, Ju Kang-rim started a slow search from the first floor.

First, the ones sensitive to noise.

He thunked his hand axe against the wall to draw them out. Footsteps approached. He focused his eyes and activated Bi-hyeong's Eyes.

Fwoosh.

Bluish flames ignited on the opposite wall. They didn't burn anything, no smell of smoke, but they lit up the pitch-dark interior.

Soon, a zombie shambled out from the dark blue glow. As expected, it didn't spot him.

Ju Kang-rim waited until it was close, then smashed its head with the hand axe. Taking one down felt easier than chopping firewood.

He moved the flames around, searching the apartment. Just the one here. But the next had three.

By the fourth floor, he'd completed the mission twice over, netting about 80 extra soul coins. Almost recovered what he'd spent on his "daily horoscope."

Already broken even.

Ju Kang-rim thought as he eyed the goblin fires blazing along his path like a trail of arson. The flames followed his route exactly.

Using them so much let him grasp Bi-hyeong's Eyes' mechanics and limits. Incredibly useful—seeing when enemies couldn't was a huge edge.

But not infinite. Each flame drained something inside him. Hard to quantify, but by the fifth floor, they visibly dimmed.

Ju Kang-rim messaged Yeomra on Biman.

Elixirs...

Ju Kang-rim checked the shop just in case—no such thing. Conserve it was.

He climbed floor by floor and reached the top without incident. Ahead of the last apartment, he wondered what the point of this training even was.

Walk up to a zombie looming in the dark, decapitate it, find the next. Soul coins piled up nicely, but it didn't feel like training.

Regain old instincts?

He'd mostly done that fighting reinforced zombies. Physical conditioning remained, but that took time.

Or grind soul coins for gear.

Like a game's grind. Made zombie hunting feel like slaying slimes.

Pondering purchases after clearing the place, Ju Kang-rim opened ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the final door.

Thud.

The fifth-floor apartment was quiet like the rest. He thumped the door deliberately and lit goblin fires. A zombie groan came from inside.

Master bedroom.

The door was shut. He turned the handle carefully and opened it.

A single zombie ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stood motionless in the moonlight seeping through the window. One was no need for flames, so Ju Kang-rim stepped forward.

It locked eyes with him.

"Gaaah!"

It charged. But as Ju Kang-rim advanced, he swung the hand axe effortlessly, lopping off its head.

Thud.

The head hit dull and heavy.

Sharper than it should be.

The Saingeom-forged axe was razor-keen. Without control, it'd slice flesh and bone like butter. Felt like it sharpened itself with every cut.

"Ga... gaa... ga."

Then he heard another groan. Scanning for more zombies, Ju Kang-rim realized it came from the wardrobe.

Face hardening, he cautiously opened it.

Three zombies inside: kids around 13 and 11, and who he guessed was their mother.

Backlit by moonlight, they didn't see him.

Zombie hunting's worst part: it makes you think about their stories.

Ju Kang-rim pieced it together. Probably the father turned first in the master bedroom. Mom herded the kids there for safety. But dad broke in, forcing them into the wardrobe. One or two got bit by then. They turned without ever escaping, biting each other.

Common enough.

Families unable to abandon an infected member, ending in wipeouts. Ju Kang-rim had seen too much to get sentimental.

He dispatched them too. Ethical qualms about killing zombies? Graduated that in his early twenties.

But it never got easier. He neatly arranged the bodies and looked down at them.

These were the villa's last zombies.

Rest in peace.

Suddenly, Ju Kang-rim wondered if this "training" wasn't physical or swordplay at all. Maybe grim reaper training: not cleaning for sanitation or grinding coins like a game, but delivering salvation to souls adrift as zombies.

That realization reframed every boring hunt.

And with it, one star embedded in his Saingeom blazed bright.

Before he could process it, Biman buzzed.