Gates, Hunters, Monsters, and... Grim Reapers? (2)
Ju Kang-rim woke to the sensation of floating up through water. A crimson sky at sunset stretched above him. Beside him ran a shallow embankment and a small stream reeking of sewage. A thick bridge spanned the stream, and with the clattering rumble of a train, a lukewarm breeze swept past.
In this utterly ordinary neighborhood stream vibe, Ju Kang-rim felt disoriented. It had been years since he'd laid eyes on such an everyday sight.
What the... hell? Am I dreaming?
Ju Kang-rim peered into the stream. That's when he realized it wasn't water at all—it was shapeless mist. The mist flowed on relentlessly, twisting into countless human forms.
Ju Kang-rim recoiled in horror at the chilling display.
"Awake now?"
A voice rang out of nowhere. Ju Kang-rim, sensing no presence at all, whipped around in shock. Beneath the bridge's dark shadow, a cigarette ember glowed like a firefly.
"They call that stream the Samdo River," came the man's drawl from under the bridge, impossible to tell if he was joking.
Ju Kang-rim quickly checked his body. The zombie bite, Gerald snapping his neck—no trace. He was in peak fighting shape.
"Don't act rashly."
A stern warning came from behind, as if she'd read his mind.
Another person stood there—a pale woman with a blank face and heavy dark circles under her eyes. Her suit was mourning black.
"Yeah, that big sis is scary as hell, so do what she says nice-like."
A snickering laugh echoed from under the bridge. The man's voice carried an eerie resonance.
Ju Kang-rim's instincts pinpointed the wrongness before his knowledge did.
"A... ghost?"
Silence fell for a beat, then laughter exploded. The dark-circle woman didn't crack a smile, but the man under the bridge howled for ages.
Ju Kang-rim flushed a bit. But he'd had his reasons.
His awakening ability was "Canine Eyes"—dog eyes, they called it. Ghost sight in a nutshell. Unlike other awakeners, he'd seen them even before gates popped up. Useless crap in normal society or the zombie apocalypse.
"Ah, haven't laughed my ass off like this in forever."
"Reveal your identity. I'm UN 4th Army Colonel..."
"Colonel Ju Kang-rim. 35. D-rank awakener. Applied to the Army Officer Academy, but a Gate cracked open on North Seoul Mountain, zombie plague went nuclear, government crumbled, so you turned zombie hunter."
The man grinned ear-to-ear, rattling off Ju's bio.
"Made a name for yourself, but Korea flipped, you joined the UN combined forces. Climbed ranks in the 4th Army while nations and groups collapsed left and right, hit Gerald's adjutant spot... but your end? Heh."
Ju Kang-rim's blood ran cold at how much the guy knew.
"State your affiliation."
"My affiliation? Hint time. Not a ghost... but I catch 'em."
"Ghost catcher... Marines?"
Ju thought he'd puzzled it out, but it landed like another joke. Even the stone-faced woman twitched her lips.
"Kid's got comedy chops—I dig it. Grim Reaper ring any bells?"
Ju Kang-rim clamped his mouth shut. No matter how you sliced it, this looked like a Korean neighborhood stream. But piecing together the man, the woman, and his own memories, he muttered hollowly,
"...Guess I croaked after all."
"Oho, quick study. Love that in a guy."
Honestly, it still screamed "neighborhood bridge hideout for lowlife smokers." Train racket overhead. But that very normalcy screamed afterlife—impossible in his old world.
And given the shit he'd done and ignored, Ju knew no paradise awaited.
"Wasn't gunning for angel choirs on clouds or sulfur pits, but this slummy? Didn't see it coming..."
"Sorry to burst your bubble. Main entrance is pretty swanky, though."
Thud. The man stubbed his cig on the ground and ambled out. Slicked-back hair, floral shirt, shades, sleeves rolled up over tattooed, scarred arms. Thug central. But the moment Ju locked eyes, his soul felt crushed.
"Ju Kang-rim."
The man squatted in front of him, grinning like it was Christmas.
"Name's Yeomra. Bet you've heard it."
***
"...Yeomra? That King Yeomra?"
"Not the stuffy image you're thinking."
Yeomra flicked off his shades, pointing back at the woman.
"That's Yoo Pro."
"Moon-duty Grim Reaper Yoo Wol-ryeong, sir."
"Right, Moon-duty Grim Reaper Yoo Wol-ryeong. Step outta line, she'll lop your head clean off. I'm chill, but she's a hardass."
Ju Kang-rim mulled it over. King Yeomra—underworld judge sorting the dead's deeds. That was his full extent of knowledge. With death tolls skyrocketing, shouldn't the afterlife be slammed? No time for chit-chat.
But prejudice. High-ups always had the most free time, per his experience. Personal summons meant business.
He flashed a beaming grin, clapping his palms together.
"Ahh, a big shot! Shoulda said so—I'd have shown proper respect! My bad!"
"Ooh, check it, Yoo Pro. Ex-military—polite as fuck."
"If that's military virtue, why not make bootlickers Defense Minister?"
Amid Yoo Wol-ryeong's snark, Ju cranked his smile to max. Death might end it all, but afterlife with wits intact? Game on.
"Caught me off-guard, couldn't bow proper. What brings you to me...?"
Yeomra fiddled with his scruffy goatee, eyeing him. Ju played cautious. Bigwig courtesy, sure—but Yeomra screamed "dangerous type."
Steer clear of these psychos if you can. Squeeze max gain, then ghost.
Afterlife structure unknown, but if it talked, same as topside.
"You lived a riot, Ju Kang-rim. Sociopath chasing success. Lick boots, grovel—peak go-getter."
"Ahaha, think you've got the wrong idea..."
"Your whole file's in the ledger."
"Didn't actually lick boots."
Flattery needed ROI. Boot-licking for general rank? Nah, peanuts. Complex folks craved validation, power over cheap thrills. Ju climbed by touting wins and burying dirt for leverage.
Rumble-rumble. Train thundered overhead, dust raining down.
Yeomra brushed dust off Ju's shoulder.
"So, how was it?"
Ju tensed. Yeomra's lips quirked faintly.
"Humanity tanked, but you hit the peak. Top 1% for sure—folks danced to your chin."
"Fox riding tiger's coattails."
"Worth the climb?"
"...Nah. All smoke. Glory's bullshit..."
"Skip the sweet talk."
Fine. No lies stick. Tough nut, but honesty if stuck.
"Alright, straight up: sweet as hell. Safe walls, smug over 99% zombies. Wielding budgets and god-powers? Rush like none other. Hundreds of thousands hung on my word. Gerald's glow, technically."
Ju ground his teeth.
"Listed refugees: cull weak, sick, breeders—zombie chow. God mode. Life or death, my call."
Underworld judge? He'd wielded that already. S-ranks bled on frontlines; Ju picked winners, fueled the bullshit.
"Offed heads hiding infections, seized cartel cash as 'conscription,' skimmed rations post-wine bribes to climb, then purged supply thieves."
Yeomra just smiled.
"Know you sheltered 'clean-up' civvies in hideouts, iced anyone toxic to humanity."
VIP leverage, sure.
"Your lists? Brutal call, but needed sorting. Not evil. Fair, even."
Yeomra shrugged, arms crossed.
"Flops look bad. Yours tanked not from bad plans—other shit."
Ju blinked. Talk veering weird.
"...Just chased my bag."
"Yeah. Max good without bleeding out."
"I..."
"Not hellspawn. Circumstances shoved you there. So, chance feels right."
Chance? Ju's head snapped up.
Yeomra shrugged, disappointed.
"But yeah, you're right."
Ju stared. Yeomra wry-grinned.
"Hell's weak sauce now. Zombies scoff at lava—'tepid spa.' No family worries, just chill fry? Tempting."
"Uh, wait..."
"Meant well, but good boys shouldn't suffer earthside. Hell it is."
"Hold up!"
Ju grabbed Yeomra's sleeve turning away, forehead slick, smile strained.
"Said something about a chance for me?"
Yeomra smirked, fishing a cig from the crumpled pack.
"Chance for you."
Snapped fingers—flame sparked midair, lit the cig. Deep drag, then pointed at Ju.
"But you gotta be a Grim Reaper."
Ju flashed to the voice before death.
Chance—work with me.
***
Yeomra strolled the Samdo River bank, briefing Ju.
"Locals know best—field's fucked."
"...Field?"
"The living world, Yeomra-nim."
Yoo Wol-ryeong corrected sharply from behind.
"Yeah, living world. Total shitshow. Guess why?"
"Gates...?"
"Bingo. Gates. No notes needed. I just call it 'shitshow.'"
"Official term: Gate—or Heavenly Gate, Yeomra-nim."
Heavenly Gate. New to Ju. Gates were street slang—no one grasped it fully.
But Yeomra and Yoo tossed it casual.
"Yup. Gates open fixed times, choosy passers. Then boom—random mega-scale. Shitshow city."
"Why...?"
Yeomra flashed a creepy grin.
"Cuz shit that should've died clings like roaches."
Passed Ju a cig.
"Immortals. Your VIP bosses."
Ju nearly fumbled his smoke.
"Them existing cracked the Gates. Zombies, abominations, living world clusterfuck—all immortal handiwork."