Burning the Straw Shack (2)
Yoo Wol-ryeong wore an expression of utter incomprehension. Ju Kang-rim gave a wry smile.
"Do you know why the CIA seems to know everything?"
"Why?"
"Because the CIA knows everything."
"I see."
"That's not the right response—you're supposed to argue back so the conversation keeps going. Anyway, the CIA has this image of 'knowing everything.' Whether a building collapses or the president gets assassinated, there are even conspiracy theories claiming 'the CIA knew but orchestrated it on purpose.' And the CIA doesn't just let those theories slide—they actively encourage them."
"Why do that?"
"So their enemies think the CIA knows everything and live in fear." Ju Kang-rim said with a grin. "It scares them into restricting their own actions. And eventually, they back off out of sheer terror. That's the power of an image."
"Why decide to build one all of a sudden?"
"After dealing with Jang Han-taek last time, I realized I needed it. It's better to be a clear object of terror than some formless ghost or American soldier they keep mistaking me for. Makes it easier to handle those bastards."
Ju Kang-rim fiddled with the black coat he was wearing as he spoke. He still hadn't fully mastered the ceremonial attire transformation, but he'd progressed enough to shape it into casual clothes. Even that was incomplete—he could only manage a single coat for now.
"Since I'm operating as a Grim Reaper anyway, it makes sense to implant that image in them. The bad ones have so many sins weighing them down that they're already flinching at their own shadows. They tremble at occult stuff or superstitions that don't even fit."
"So you're sparing them to spread the rumors."
Yoo Wol-ryeong nodded as if it made sense.
"If they don't know much about me for sure and they're gripped by fear, I let them live. Can't spare the brave ones or the smart ones, though. Soon enough, those bastards will give me a nickname or something. Then I exploit that image for all it's worth."
Ju Kang-rim smiled.
"Rumors will breed more rumors, and soon they'll think of me every night, see me in every shadow. The rustle of leaves or the whisper of wind will make them jump. And when they finally face me, all that pent-up delusion will seize their hearts."
Ju Kang-rim and Yoo Wol-ryeong left the blazing room salon behind and headed for their next target.
"And they'll meet the Grim Reaper."
November had arrived, and the banks of the Han River were bitterly cold. Ju Kang-rim pulled his collar tight and scanned the desolate riverside. Even for autumn, it wasn't usually this empty—but knowing zombies swarmed the area just across the water made anyone hesitate to set foot here.
"We're here."
Yoo Wol-ryeong spoke up. She was dressed in a plain navy coat and boots. Ju Kang-rim matched her in a gray coat and hat, a backpack of gear for the hunt slung over his shoulder. They looked like any ordinary couple out for a stroll.
But they had come to unleash another massacre.
"Is the target over there?"
Ju Kang-rim asked, eyeing Sebitseom. Yoo Wol-ryeong nodded. The structure floating on the river had once been a famous tourist spot, but now it lay abandoned, quietly crumbling into ruin. Their previous strongholds had all been smack in the city center, but this one was in a remote area.
Not that it was strange.
"They import and distribute Shine Sand from here?"
"Yes. There's a dock where they bring it in by boat to the convenience store, then leak it out to the outside from there."
Yoo Wol-ryeong answered flatly. Ju Kang-rim checked the time: 12:09 p.m. Even in November, the sun blazed high, but he had no choice but to move now. His observations over the past few days showed they cleared out all the Shine Sand from the warehouse at night.
They've figured out I only strike at night.
Night raids were advantageous, of course. He could hide his presence, attack one-sidedly, conceal his identity, and maximize terror.
He could storm in at night, raze the place, and cut off Shine Sand distribution just fine. But Ju Kang-rim chose daytime.
Because this was a trap.
They'd concentrated their forces here, deployed immortals, and were waiting for him. Exactly what he wanted.
His goal was eliminating immortals, not Shine Sand.
But if they thought he'd come at night, now was the perfect time for a real surprise.
"Shall we?"
Yoo Wol-ryeong gave a small nod. The pair, strolling the riverside like lovers on a date, split off without a word and moved.
Sebitseom consisted of three islands. Ju Kang-rim targeted the largest one, with the convenience store and wedding hall—now a ruined warehouse.
If the bastard's here, he'll be waiting in there.
Yoo Wol-ryeong couldn't act until an immortal was confirmed. Once verified, she'd decide based on Ju Kang-rim's capabilities.
Ju Kang-rim spotted an organization member standing guard at the entrance. CCTV monitored the front door too.
He approached without hesitation. The guard noticed late, reaching for his hip holster to halt him.
Too slow.
Ju Kang-rim yanked off his hat, smothering the man's face, and cleaved his skull with the axe. As the ceremonial attire transformation began, paint and hat concealed his body and head.
Ju Kang-rim tilted his hat to shadow his face, baring his teeth in a mutter.
"Your time to die."
She tightened the straps, checked the locks and triggers. Satisfied everything was perfect, Ttakkachi stroked the dog's head pressed close to her knee and murmured.
"We've done all we can. Now we wait."
"Ttakkachi-nim!"
An organization member rushed up in a panic.
"Front door CCTV's smashed! And some guys aren't responding!"
Before Ttakkachi could reply, the lights flickered and died with a jolt. The wedding hall plunged into eerie silence, all electrics cut. The dim interior froze the member's tense face.
Ttakkachi muttered flatly.
"He's here."
She stood, patting the dog's scruff. It bounded off as if understanding.
The member fretted. "It's daytime—how? He's only shown up at night so far."
"Probably 'cause we moved the Shine Sand before nightfall. Lots of empty spots now—where's everyone else?"
"Th-they went for lunch... Told 'em to hurry back, but it'll take time."
"Hitting at lunchtime? Rude bastard. Should at least respect meal times. Half our guys is plenty. Stay calm, hold positions. Stick to the plan."
"But..."
The member scanned the interior anxiously. The traps Ttakkachi had ordered seemed dubious. The ghouls filling the hall felt more reliable. But he couldn't say that to her face.
"Hope for luck. Get ready."
Ttakkachi loaded her crossbow and fixed her gaze on the door, tense.
Would he kick through the front? Smash a window? The enclosed wedding hall had limited entries. That first shot mattered.
Then the door cracked open.
As Ttakkachi's finger tensed on the trigger, something rolled in.
Hiss... sss...
Dozens of cylinders tumbled across the virgin road, spewing white fog.
Only then did Ttakkachi realize.
"...Tear gas!"
He knew it was a trap, but Ju Kang-rim wasn't idiot enough to charge in unprepared. When storming a fortress rigged by hordes armed to the teeth, how do you fight?
Drag them out.
He heard the chaos inside. His lips curled.
No matter how ready, they're just gangsters.
Ju Kang-rim had learned from humanity's top military machine. Not a strategist, but trained tacticians outclass amateurs.
Timing it, he donned his gas mask.
"Gah, hack!"
As one bolted for the door, Ju Kang-rim smashed his head. Grabbed the collar, yanked him, backhanded the next throat.
"Don't go out! Stay back!"
Realizing Ju Kang-rim's presence late, they retreated behind the door. He ducked to the wall.
Bang, bang-bang-bang.
Bullets riddled and splintered the door. He waited for the coughing beyond to subside.
Fewer rushed out than expected, but no booby trap on the door—good enough.
Counting to three, he kicked the door and hurled himself into the tear gas.
Late gunfire erupted, but blind, sobbing shots missed wildly.
Three near the door.
The interior was a choking haze. Ju Kang-rim gauged numbers by coughs and charged.
Few could brace for a hand axe bursting from the gas.
"How's he know our positions?!"
A scream-shout echoed. Ju Kang-rim had no gas-piercing eyes, but silhouettes sufficed.
He'd ignited will-o'-wisps on entry—flames only he saw, marking them through the fog.
But he couldn't press the rout. Mid-swing at a handkerchief-masked thug's nape, his axe clanged—blocked unexpectedly.
Clang!
A ghoul, swaddled in heavy armor, massive bulk. It ignored the axe in its forearm, lunging.
Ju Kang-rim yanked free, swung again. Shallow cuts—no dismemberment.
Ghouls feel no pain—gotta disable in one go.
Meanwhile, more ghouls swarmed his position. He fell back.
They'd prepared thoroughly. This might be tougher than thought.
Fewer coughs.
Fewer humans meant more ghouls. Gripping his axe tighter, he thought.
Eight minutes... ten tops to find and kill the immortal.
Clunk.
Power surged back—someone reconnected it. The domed ceiling parted slowly.
Ju Kang-rim stared, incredulous. Romantic sunlight for newlyweds; a pain for him.
Four minutes.
Tongue clicking, he adjusted. Gripping his axe, he muttered.
I offer ten years of my lifespan to the Saingeom.
Whoosh!
Flames erupted along the Saingeom, roaring to life. Ju Kang-rim gripped the transformed long sword and charged the armored ghoul.
Slash.
As if the prior axe block was a lie, the ghoul's torso sheared in half.
Can't get tripped by small fry. My target is the immortal.
He felt the immortal's gaze amid the chaos—enduring without curses. No ordinary foe.
Ju Kang-rim predicted its spot. Then sensed ghouls herding him one way.
That direction.
The vast, flat hall had one vantage free of gas: the second-floor staff room overlooking all.
Killing intent flashed from there. Dodging, something clamped his leg.
A dog the size of a man, gnashing his calf. Simultaneously, an arrow from the staff room pierced his arm.