You shall witness, and the retribution of the wicked shall be seen by you.
You will see it with your own eyes, and the recompense of the wicked shall be shown to you.
Boom!Thud! The deafening roars continued without pause. The warehouse ceiling and its slate roof could not withstand the vibrations; they crumbled and rained down onto the floor. When a slab of slate crashed right in front of Jun-hee, the beast that had been trying to tear into him only moments earlier flinched in shock. It was forced to abandon its attack and leap aside to save itself.
“Graaawr!”
The irritable roar that followed was thick with rage at the sudden interference.
Jun-hee remained frozen where he lay on the ground. The abrupt chaos—the collapsing metal shelves, the caving ceiling—had left him too stunned to move. Fresh tears spilled from his eyes. Because the person he had been waiting for was finally standing there.
It was a young priest. A man who looked far younger than himself, yet the moment Jun-hee saw him, the suffocating terror that had gripped him simply melted away. It felt like stepping into a single beam of light after being lost in total darkness.
The young priest clicked his tongue softly and approached with utterly calm steps. Behind him, another woman materialized like a ghost. Her clothes were different this time, but once again she was dressed in expensive designer brands—refined, dazzlingly beautiful. Even in the midst of this nightmare, her beauty remained striking and unmatched.
At that moment, the priest’s reverent voice rang out toward the wary beast and So-yeon.
“Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle.”
“Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil.”
His voice resonated, spreading outward with a power that defied resistance. Watching him, Jun-hee felt as though an angel had descended to earth bearing God’s own command.
Meanwhile, the beast that had targeted Jun-hee moments earlier—a massive tiger—lowered its body and bared its fangs in clear warning. Yet whether it was the prayer itself or the young priest’s unnervingly composed demeanor, the creatures could not bring themselves to attack. Instead, with every forward step he took, the beasts retreated.
“May the leader of the heavenly armies, by the power of God, cast into hell Satan and all the evil spirits who roam the world seeking the ruin of souls.”
Hwan opened his eyes. He stared at the tiger roaring threats before him. Its fur was pure white. A white tiger? No. It was something different. Not white, exactly… it was more accurate to call it silver, like strands of silk. It resembled a tiger, yet it was not quite the same.
“Graaaawr!”
The creature roared and lunged. In that instant Hwan casually extended his hand. A blood-red sword had already formed at his fingertips. He leaped forward to meet it. The moment man and beast collided—
Clang!
A metallic crash rang out, followed by a tremendous shockwave that erupted from the point of impact and tore through the warehouse. The already unstable building shuddered violently. More slate tiles slid from the roof and shattered on the floor.
The tiger kept roaring, stubbornly throwing itself at him again and again. Hwan twisted aside with effortless grace, swinging his sword in precise arcs that steadily wore the creature down. His movements never lost their calm composure.
He took one step back, pivoted to evade another strike, then slashed upward in a single fluid motion.
Shiiing!
A crimson arc sliced across the Jangsanbum’s silver flank. Viscous blood sprayed upward like a fountain, soaking the silver fur a deep, glistening red. The beast writhed in agony and collapsed, rolling helplessly across the floor.
Hwan turned to Jun-hee.
“Your daughter is somewhere in here. Go find her. I’ll handle these things.”
“B-by yourself…? Will you really be all right?” Jun-hee asked, voice trembling with worry.
Hwan offered a faint smile. He tightened his grip on the blood-red sword and clenched a silver crucifix in his other hand.
“I’m not alone.”
At that moment another Jangsanbum leaped. No—there were two. A second beast had appeared beside the first, and both sprang toward him at once.
“W-watch out!”
Jun-hee cried in alarm, but the young priest’s figure vanished like a mirage. The tigers were just as startled by the sudden disappearance, yet their airborne bodies could not stop. They slammed into each other with a sickening thud, whimpering as they tumbled across the ground.
Hwan was already standing in front of Jun-hee again, smiling gently.
“Hurry. Go find your daughter.”
Biting down hard on his lower lip, Jun-hee pushed himself to his feet. There was no time to remain helpless. Seeing the priest wield his sword with such masterful grace against two Jangsanbums gave Jun-hee the courage he needed. He had to do something. He must do something.
He forced strength into his trembling legs and looked at the priest once more. The man was clearly no ordinary clergyman. The way he moved against two Jangsanbums, the swordsmanship he displayed—none of it belonged to a normal priest. Just who was this man…?
But there was no time to dwell on such questions. He had to find his daughter.
He glanced behind him. So-yeon had vanished at some point. He had no idea where she had gone, but he was certain his daughter was nearby.
Just a little longer… Hold on, sweetheart. Daddy’s coming…
He snatched the phone lying on the floor and ran deeper into the warehouse.
“So-hee!!!”
He shouted her name desperately.
“Please… So-hee! Where are you?! Please…”
He called again and again, voice raw with longing. But he didn’t know where to begin searching. Then, carried on a faint breeze, he thought he heard a small voice. His feet stopped. He turned his head, following the sound. It was coming from deeper inside the warehouse, barely audible.
“So-So-hee!!”
Jun-hee screamed until his throat burned. In answer, a faint voice drifted back.
“Daddy…”
This time it was clearer. It was definitely calling for him. He would know that voice anywhere.
His eyes fell on a staircase leading underground right in front of him. Thick, pitch-black darkness filled the passage. Even the light from his phone could not reach the bottom. Perhaps it led to a boiler room. And from within that darkness…
“Daddy…”
So-hee’s voice called again, weak but unmistakable.
He had found her. He had finally found his daughter.
Joy flooded Jun-hee’s face. He turned to tell the young priest—but at that exact moment—
BOOM!
Another explosive roar shook the building. One of the warehouse’s already precarious walls finally gave way and collapsed in a thunderous crash. One of the Jangsanbums was caught beneath the falling debris.
Another beast roared in fury and lunged at Hwan. Once again he evaded the attack with ease and countered with a precise slash of his blood-red sword. He still looked completely composed. Jun-hee knew he could not afford to distract him.
Taking one last deep breath, he stared down the dark staircase, slapped both cheeks hard to steady himself, and began his descent without hesitation.
“Wait for me! So-hee! Daddy’s coming… Daddy’s coming right now!!”
It was extraordinary. Their movements were fast, their strength overwhelming, and above all, the coordination between them spoke of long years fighting together. Hwan frowned as he faced the two Jangsanbums, their fur now soaked crimson. The blood-drenched silver pelts rippled like silk. The savage faces peering through that bloody curtain were utterly horrifying.
This was the first time Hwan had ever seen a Jangsanbum in the flesh. He could only imagine how many lives they had taken. Between them he could hear the pitiful cries of the dead—grieving spirits trapped in their grudge. It seemed the true number of victims was far higher than the information he had gathered.
The sound of their wailing made Hwan’s chest tighten.
“Having tasted human blood, I cannot forgive you. You turned those poor souls into changwi again and again, using them as tools to lure the families they loved…”
Hwan’s voice had grown ice-cold, heavy with rage. The two Jangsanbums circled him from front and back, bodies low to the ground, growling deep in their throats.
“How many people’s resentment have you devoured…? Their cries never end.”
The lamentations of those pitiful souls refused to cease. They had become changwi, barely earning release by dragging others into the same fate, yet the mountain of accumulated grudges kept them from passing on to the afterlife. How could they ever find peace? They had been forced to inflict the same cruel torment on the very people they cherished, all at a monster’s command. Hwan could feel the weight of their endless suffering pressing down on him.