Black Mask Acquisition Operation

The Hero Association Seoul Southern Branch, Special Disaster Response Department conference room.

Seo Mun-ha stood before the darkened monitor. There was no smell of blood in the room. No stench of filth. No acrid bite of scorched concrete. No screams. Only the faint odor of coffee gone cold, the sharp tang of disinfectant, and the quiet rustle of report pages turning. That made it worse.

The field was always filthy. Blood and dust and sweat and screams tangled together while judgments were made on fragments of information. But once an incident entered a conference room, it transformed. The person who had bled became a casualty. The survivors became five civilians. The organization members broken by terror became combat incapable. And the uncontrolled supernormal became a high-risk target.

Seo Mun-ha looked down at the tablet in her hand.

Black Mask. A temporary name slapped on by someone whose identity she didn’t know. Seo Mun-ha didn’t like it. Names were convenient. They made targets easy to call and reports easy to file. But convenient names turned people into objects far too quickly.

Kang Doyun. Copycat. Black Mask. Three names pointing at the same man.

Or did they?

Seo Mun-ha switched on the monitor. Helmet-cam footage recovered from the Central Waterway began to play. The image shook violently. A dark drainage tunnel. Black Dog operatives. Screaming hostages. The injured rookie hero Yoon Taeha. And the gaunt man walking out of the shadows.

Round glasses. Messy curly hair. A pale face. Over it all, a faint black mask that seemed to overlap like a phantom.

One of the agents in the footage shouted.

Immediately another voice yelled.

At that moment the footage warped. The drainage wall looked like theater seating. The filthy water on the floor rippled like a curtain. The distortion was impossible for normal recording equipment. The device hadn’t malfunctioned. The perceptions of everyone present had shaken at once, and the supernormal recorder had captured the afterimage.

“Classifying it as a mental-type disaster wouldn’t be unreasonable,” the analyst beside her said.

Seo Mun-ha didn’t answer right away. In the footage, Kang Doyun had not killed anyone. He had created an escape route for the hostages, disrupted the Black Dog operatives, and given Yoon Taeha room to move. As a result, five civilians had been rescued. By that metric alone, he was closer to a field collaborator.

But the method was the problem. Amplified fear response. Mass hallucination. Distorted movement. Mental domination that made distinguishing friend from foe nearly impossible. The ability could save lives, or it could shatter dozens in exactly the same way.

Seo Mun-ha paused the footage. Kang Doyun’s face filled the screen. A mouth that was not smiling. A mask that made it look as though it were. And beneath it, eyes that trembled.

The analyst asked carefully, “Should we designate the subject as uncontrollable?”

“We don’t know yet,” Seo Mun-ha replied. “If he were truly uncontrollable, the hostages would have died first.”

“Then should we classify him as a rescue collaborator?”

“That isn’t correct either.” She switched the tablet off. “Rescue intent and risk level are separate matters.”

The conference room door opened. A staff member from the medical wing hurried in.

“Team Leader. There’s a problem with Agent Yoon Taeha.”

Seo Mun-ha’s eyebrow twitched minutely. “Has his condition worsened?”

“No. He’s disappeared from his hospital room.”

The air in the room tightened subtly. Seo Mun-ha lowered her voice. “Is the location tag still active?”

“The signal remains, but it’s cut out several times after leaving the medical wing.”

“Direction?”

“It initially headed southwest from Guro, then the route twisted multiple times. Current estimate is toward Incheon.”

The analyst murmured, “Is he chasing Copycat?”

Seo Mun-ha thought for a moment. Yoon Taeha. Rookie hero. Survivor of the Guro Abandoned Factory incident. Participant in the civilian rescue at the Central Waterway. The person who had called Kang Doyun’s real name in the footage. Analysis showed that the moment the name was spoken, Kang Doyun’s supernormal reaction had faltered.

It could be coincidence. But very few things on the field could be dismissed as coincidence.

“Not chasing,” Seo Mun-ha said, staring at the frozen image of Kang Doyun. “Attempting contact.”

“This is insubordination.”

“It is.”

Seo Mun-ha picked up her coat. A black tactical coat with the Special Disaster Response Department insignia on the shoulder.

“Contact the special investigation team. Track Yoon Taeha using his location tag as reference.”

“Is this a recovery operation for Agent Yoon Taeha?”

“There are three priorities.” Seo Mun-ha walked toward the door. “First, secure the Solar-Type supernormal determinant.”

Her voice remained calm. “Second, secure Copycat Kang Doyun.”

The analyst asked, “If he resists, how should we proceed?”

Seo Mun-ha paused. The trembling eyes from the footage rose in her mind. The scene of civilians escaping along the black lines as well. She answered without emotion.

“Immediate suppression.”

“Should we also request lethal authorization?”

“Not yet.” Seo Mun-ha shook her head. “We need to confirm what is inside that man.”

She added, very quietly, “Whether he has been devoured… or is still holding on.”

With those words, Seo Mun-ha left the conference room. Once she was gone, only the frozen screen remained. A man who looked as if he wore a mask. A face that smiled without smiling. Black Mask. The name had been stamped into the Association’s records.

It was before dawn had fully broken when we emerged from the underground maintenance room of the abandoned junkyard. My body was still heavy. The aftereffects of the supernormal suppressant left my fingertips dull and my stomach churning. Still, I couldn’t stay lying down.

Black Dog had raised the bounty. The Association had reclassified me under the name Black Mask. Hound was still alive. Madok had escaped the Central Waterway. The junkyard maintenance room wasn’t a place that could hold out for long. The Rat Merchant knew that better than anyone.

“If we stay here any longer, we’re dead,” he said, checking several terminals at once. “There are already scavengers smelling money in the area. The fake tips I leaked won’t last long. Black Dog is burning every rat hole they can find, and the Association is going to look at you as a mental-type threat again.”

“So where are we going?”

“Incheon Abandoned Port.” The Rat Merchant held out a screen. A rusted port map. Warehouse district. Dense cluster of abandoned containers. And an underground structure marked beneath Warehouse 3 on the south side.

“Dr. Sun had an old laboratory there. It has shielding equipment, and we can add a double-lock to the sunspot stone storage box. At least it’s better than here.”

Seon Woo-rak did not deny it. “The equipment isn’t in perfect condition, but under the current circumstances it is the best option.”

The Rat Merchant ground his teeth. “I really hate hearing the word best. It just means there are no alternatives.”

Ghost Van was waiting at the junkyard entrance. A black van. The license plate had been changed to numbers that might or might not be real, and the rear windows were blacked out. The moment he saw us he spoke briefly.

“Incheon. Additional fee.”

The Rat Merchant shouted immediately. “We already paid the additional fee!”

“Guro escape fee.”

“This is an extension!”

“Different city.”

“You don’t talk much, but you have a real talent for pissing people off with the little you do say.”

Ghost Van didn’t blink. “Get in. Otherwise contract terminated.”

The Rat Merchant ground his teeth again but eventually climbed in. I hugged the backpack to my chest and settled into the back seat. The sunspot stone storage box was wrapped in shielding cloth and temporary metal straps. The double lock still hadn’t been installed. That made me even more uneasy. My fingers kept digging into the backpack strap. If I let go, it felt like it would be taken. If I kept holding it, it felt like I would open it myself. Both were dangerous.

The Rat Merchant looked at my hands and said, “Don’t grip that so tight. Just watching your fingers head toward the box knot is enough to make my heart stop first.”

“I know.”

“Then why do your hands keep going there?”

I loosened my grip slightly. Seon Woo-rak observed me from the opposite seat.

“Supernormal reaction rate?”

I checked the wrist monitor.

“Fifty-eight.”

“High. Even with suppressant residue remaining, that level means the sunspot stone alone is continuously stimulating you.”

“Not a single piece of good news,” I muttered.

“It’s about time you got used to it.”

The Rat Merchant grumbled, “Listening to you two talk makes me feel like my lifespan is shrinking. One talks like his body’s about to explode, the other records it like experimental data.”

The van left the junkyard and entered the predawn road. Guro’s shabby buildings fell behind. The city had not fully woken yet. A cleaning truck passed beneath streetlights, and a night-shift worker smoked in front of a convenience store. Those ordinary scenes felt strangely distant.

Just last night I had been a third-rate villain who died early in the original story. Now I was a high-risk target pursued simultaneously by Black Dog and the Association.

Copycat. Kang Doyun. Black Mask. The more names multiplied, the blurrier my position became.

So I whispered softly.

“Kang Doyun.”

The Rat Merchant glanced at me from the side. “Checking your name again?”

“You said it was necessary.”

“That was Dr. Sun’s idea.”

“You saw the effect yourself.”

The Rat Merchant twisted his mouth. “If you’re talking about when I called you mask bastard, don’t thank me. It felt disgusting.”

“I didn’t.”

“Don’t do it in the future either.”

At that moment Ghost Van spoke through the rearview mirror.

“Tail.”

The atmosphere in the vehicle changed instantly. The Rat Merchant lowered his body toward the window. “Black Dog?”

“Unknown. Gray van. Followed twice.”

Seon Woo-rak took out his terminal. “Doesn’t appear to be an Association vehicle.”

The Rat Merchant swallowed a curse. “Bounty hunter, then. Five billion won and they’re already sticking to us on the road.”

Ghost Van silently turned the wheel. The van left the main road and entered an underpass. The gray van followed. Ghost Van spoke quietly.

“Catch it.”

The Rat Merchant gripped the handle. “Can’t you explain what you want me to catch before saying it?”

“Handle.”

The next instant the van accelerated sharply. My body was thrown back. I clutched the backpack. The Rat Merchant spat curses while grabbing the seat handle, and Seon Woo-rak surprisingly calmly secured his bag.

Inside the underpass the engine noise echoed loudly off the walls. The van behind accelerated as well. A gunshot rang out. A small impact sounded near the rear window. The Rat Merchant swallowed a scream.

“They’re even shooting? Five billion must have killed everyone’s patience!”

Ghost Van didn’t answer. He changed lanes abruptly and slipped between cargo trucks ahead. The gray van hesitated for a moment trying to follow. In that gap Ghost Van braked hard then accelerated again. Tires screamed behind them. There was a crash. The gray van scraped the side of a cargo truck and lost balance. It didn’t completely roll over, but it could no longer follow.

The Rat Merchant muttered with a pale face, “This is why I hate transporters. They treat human lives like optional lane changes.”

Ghost Van said, “They’re alive.”

“Is that supposed to be comforting?”

“It is.”

I caught my breath and checked the wrist monitor.

It had risen slightly. Dangerous. I hadn’t used any ability, yet the mere pursuit had increased the rate. Because of the sunspot stone? Or had the Persona sensed the fear?

I looked out the window. The end of the underpass, dawn light visible like an open exit. The exit of the stage. No. It was just a road. I clenched my teeth.

“It’s a road.”

The Rat Merchant looked at me. “Who were you talking to just now?”

“Myself.”

He watched me for a moment but asked no more. And so we headed for Incheon.

When we arrived at the entrance of the Incheon Abandoned Port, the sky was beginning to brighten faintly. Rusted gates. Piles of containers. Cranes frozen in the distance. The sea wind carried the mingled smells of salt and oil.

Ghost Van slowed near the gate, then stopped.

“Front.”

I lifted my head. Beside the gate, in the shadow of a rusted container, a person stood. A young man wearing a thin coat over bloodstained civilian clothes. His arm was wrapped in bandages and a poorly applied gauze clung to his forehead. His face was pale, with dark circles under his eyes.

Yoon Taeha. The original protagonist who had faced Madok at the Central Waterway. The guy who should have been in the Association’s medical wing had followed us all the way here.

The Rat Merchant pressed his face to the window then immediately cursed. “Why is that hero here?”

Seon Woo-rak narrowed his eyes with interest. Ghost Van spoke briefly.

“Two minutes.”

“What’s two minutes?”

“Conversation ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠time. If longer, we depart.”

I opened the car door and stepped out. My legs wobbled slightly. Yoon Taeha saw it and tried to take a step closer. I raised my hand.

“Stop there.”

He stopped. A few steps apart. The cold wind of the abandoned port passed between us. Yoon Taeha spoke first.

“Mr. Kang Doyun.”

The moment I heard the name, something inside my head clicked into place, small but firm. Name anchoring, as Seon Woo-rak had called it. Annoyingly, it worked. I said quietly, “From here on, this isn’t the incident you heard about from the Association.”

Yoon Taeha’s eyes wavered. Only after speaking did I realize my mistake. The incident you knew. The original story. It could have sounded that way. From Yoon Taeha’s perspective it had to sound strange. He didn’t know the original story. He didn’t know he was the protagonist. He couldn’t know what would happen next. Only I did.

I corrected myself immediately. “I mean the information you received and reality are different.”

Yoon Taeha stared at me. His eyes said he didn’t believe me. But there was no time to press the issue. Behind us, Ghost Van’s engine rumbled low. The black van was ready to depart at any moment. The Rat Merchant poked his head through the open door.

“Copycat! A villain having a consultation with a hero at the entrance of an abandoned port doesn’t even appear in black market ghost stories. Finish it quickly!”

I ignored him. Yoon Taeha asked, “Aren’t you going to ask how I got here?”

“I don’t want to.”

“I’ll tell you anyway.”

“Why are heroes only diligent about doing what they’re told not to?”

Yoon Taeha faltered for a second, but continued. “At the Central Waterway I saw the Association pursuing you. I checked the records afterward. A suspicious van fleeing from Guro toward Incheon, collision with an Association checkpoint, and the record of clashing with a bounty hunter vehicle in the underpass.”

“A wounded man was checking Association records?”

“I still had temporary access privileges.”

“The Association is sloppy.”

“You could see it that way.” Yoon Taeha smiled bitterly. “Or maybe I simply hadn’t become a fully suspected individual yet.”

I narrowed my eyes. The statement that the Association did not completely suspect Yoon Taeha was probably true. He was a rookie hero. He had rescued civilians at the Central Waterway and sustained injuries. From the Association’s perspective he was both a protection target and a field witness. At the same time, he was a variable that had influenced my return from beneath the mask. A contact restriction recommendation had likely been issued. Yet he had not been fully isolated. Yoon Taeha had slipped through that gap.

“How did you get out of the Association?”

“I left secretly.”

“In that condition?”

“Aren’t you running in that condition as well?”

Another accurate point. Inside the van the Rat Merchant muttered, “That hero doesn’t yield easily with words.”

Yoon Taeha looked straight at me. “Please tell me what item you possess.”

“You’re better off not knowing.”

“That means it’s even more dangerous, doesn’t it?”

“Correct.” This time I didn’t deny it. “It’s dangerous.”

Yoon Taeha’s face hardened. It was probably because I had admitted it directly for the first time.

“Then why don’t you hand it over to the Association?”

“Because there’s no guarantee the Association is safe.”

Yoon Taeha couldn’t refute it immediately. That short silence was the answer. He had seen it at the Central Waterway too. The Association’s movements that seemed to prioritize securing illegal supernormal items over hostage rescue. Not every field agent would be like that. But the orders had been strange. Even Yoon Taeha must have felt it.

“I wanted to believe,” Yoon Taeha said. “I thought the Association was an organization that protected people.”

“That isn’t entirely wrong.”

“But not completely, right?”

I let out a small laugh. “Good start.”

“Don’t mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you.” It was sincere. Early-stage Yoon Taeha believed in the Association. Or rather, he wanted to believe. He hoped it was an organization that protected people. Because he wanted to become that kind of hero. And now he was already beginning to doubt it. Faster than in the original story. Because I had twisted the original story.

Yoon Taeha took one step closer. “What is the name of that item?”

I hesitated briefly. Should I tell him? The name sunspot stone. Its identity as a Solar-Type supernormal determinant. If Yoon Taeha learned this information, the flow of the original story would drift even further. But it was already too late. He had come this far. It was more dangerous for him to follow blindly.

“Sunspot stone,” I said.

Yoon Taeha’s eyes wavered. “Sunspot stone.”

“That’s the black market name. Officially it would be called a Solar-Type supernormal determinant.”

“If it’s a supernormal determinant…”

“It’s an object that interferes with supernormal factors. Amplification, alteration, awakening, rampage. We don’t know what will come out.”

Yoon Taeha’s expression grew increasingly rigid. “So that’s why Black Dog is after it?”

“Not only Black Dog.”

“The Association too.”

“Yes.” I looked deeper into the abandoned port. Rusted cranes stabbed at the dawn sky. “And probably those above Black Dog as well.”

“Above?”

“An item like that isn’t something an organization like Black Dog can handle alone. Someone entrusted it to them, leaked it, or it was part of an experiment.”

Yoon Taeha fell into thought. Fear was visible on his face, but he showed no sign of retreating. That made it more troublesome. I said, “Go back now.”

Yoon Taeha lifted his head. “I cannot do that.”

“If you follow, it becomes even more dangerous.”

“It’s already dangerous.”

“This isn’t an incident you can handle.”

The moment the words left my mouth, Yoon Taeha’s eyes changed. “How do you know what I can handle?”

I cursed inwardly. Another mistake. I kept viewing Yoon Taeha through the lens of the original story. Early Yoon Taeha. Still weak Yoon Taeha. Yoon Taeha who had not obtained the sunspot stone. But the person before me now was not a sentence from the original story. He was a living human being. A human walking out beyond the flow I knew.

I spoke roughly. “You can tell by looking. You’re still weak.”

Yoon Taeha’s face hardened. “I know that.” Surprisingly he did not argue. “I am weak. At the abandoned factory and at the waterway, I couldn’t block properly. I tried to save people, but if others hadn’t helped I would have failed.”

“If you know, then go back.”

“That’s why I need to know more.” Yoon Taeha took another step closer. “Because I’m weak. If I remain ignorant I’ll be hit again.”

I looked at him. This was the original protagonist. He acknowledged weakness. And ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠instead of retreating because of it, he dug in deeper. Reckless. Frustrating. And that was why he was the protagonist.

“Why should I tell you?”

“There is no reason.”

“Then?”

“I will still ask.”

“What if I don’t answer?”

“I will follow anyway.”

I let out a hollow laugh. “Is this a threat?”

“It is a request.”

“A pretty persistent request.”

“Then let’s call it a request with a little warning mixed in.”

This guy was more brazen than I thought. Had early-stage Yoon Taeha in the original story been this direct? No. The incidents had changed. He hadn’t obtained the sunspot stone and had experienced different events at the abandoned factory and Central Waterway. He had begun to suspect and move faster than originally. That was my fault too. Because I had twisted the original story.

From the van, Ghost Van honked the horn briefly. Beep. The Rat Merchant practically hung out the window and shouted.

“Copycat! Time’s up! Get in!”

I looked at Yoon Taeha. “If you follow, there are conditions.”

His eyes wavered. “Does that mean I can come with you?”

“Conditionally.”

“I’m listening.”

“First. Do not contact the Association.”

“I will comply.”

“Second. Do not touch the sunspot stone.”

“Understood.”

“Third.” I looked directly into his eyes. “If I determine it’s dangerous, I will abandon you.”

Yoon Taeha flinched. “That—”

“If you don’t like it, go back from here.”

He looked straight at me. “Will you really do that?”

I answered, “I can.”

Was it a lie? I didn’t know. I had already turned back at the Central Waterway. I couldn’t abandon civilians. I couldn’t completely use Yoon Taeha as bait. So could I truly abandon him in a real crisis? I couldn’t be certain. But I had to say it. I had to draw the line. To make clear that I had no intention of protecting him. So he wouldn’t mistake me for a hero or an ally.

Yoon Taeha remained silent for a moment, then nodded. “Understood.”

“You don’t look like you really understood.”

“I understood that you said you could abandon me.”

“And you’re still coming?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Yoon Taeha answered shortly. “Because I have no intention of abandoning you.”

For a moment I was speechless. What kind of logic was that? I said I would abandon him, yet he declared he would not abandon me. It wasn’t negotiation. It wasn’t a threat. It was simply a declaration. I smiled tiredly.

“You really won’t live long.”

“I’m still alive.”

With those words Yoon Taeha walked toward the van. He seemed to have decided my permission had been granted. The Rat Merchant widened his eyes inside the window.

“Wait! We’re taking him too? Isn’t that a contract violation?”

Ghost Van spoke from the driver’s seat. “Contract renewal required.”

The Rat Merchant clutched his head. “Ah, this is just ridiculous!”

I returned to the van. Ghost Van looked at Yoon Taeha through the window and said, “Condition violation. Hero riding along.”

“Price?”

“Double.”

The Rat Merchant screamed. “Why do you get to decide that!”

“My car.”

“There’s nothing wrong with what you say and that makes it even more infuriating!”

Yoon Taeha looked at me with a face that didn’t fully understand the situation. “Is money the problem?”

The Rat Merchant answered immediately. “Money is the biggest problem, hero. The world may look like it runs on ideals, but when you’re running for your life, fuel costs come first.”

Yoon Taeha thought for a moment then searched his pocket. He took out his wallet. Inside were a few cards and a small amount of cash. The Rat Merchant saw it and let out a hollow laugh.

“Forget it. Put it away. That won’t even cover fuel.”

Yoon Taeha said seriously, “I will repay it later.”

The Rat Merchant covered his face with both hands. “Haah. This is why you shouldn’t deal with heroes. They have no money but their eyes are so sincere.”

Ghost Van eventually opened the rear door. “Get in. However, no hero activities inside the vehicle.”

Yoon Taeha hesitated. “What does no hero activities mean?”

Ghost Van said dryly, “Even if someone looks suspicious, do not jump out. Even if someone looks injured, do not open the door. Even if I speed, do not talk about citizen safety.”

Yoon Taeha stiffened for a moment. I said, “If you can’t do it, get out.”

He gritted his teeth and nodded. “Understood.”

Yoon Taeha boarded the van. The atmosphere inside the vehicle became strange in an instant. Villain transporter Ghost Van. Information broker Rat Merchant. Illegal researcher Seon Woo-rak. Third-rate villain Copycat. And original protagonist Yoon Taeha. By composition alone, it was already a doomed party.

The Rat Merchant pressed himself into the corner of the back seat. “This car has become really weird.”

Seon Woo-rak looked at Yoon Taeha with interest. “So you are Yoon Taeha.”

Yoon Taeha looked at him warily. “Who are you?”

“Dr. Sun. For now, let’s say I am Copycat’s temporary physician and research collaborator.”

“Research?”

Yoon Taeha’s gaze immediately turned to me. I closed my eyes. I was already tired. “Explanation later.”

Ghost Van said, “Departing.”

The van entered deeper into the abandoned port. Rusted containers were stacked high on both sides, and steel cranes stood like beasts that had stopped long ago. From the sea side came the smell of salt and oil. The sun had not fully risen yet, so everything was submerged between gray and black.

Yoon Taeha looked out the window then asked me quietly, “What are you planning to do here?”

“Stabilize the sunspot stone.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“Extremely.”

“Then why do it?”

I answered, “Because not doing it is more dangerous.”

Yoon Taeha asked no more. But his gaze kept lingering on my backpack. Seon Woo-rak said, “Yoon Taeha. The sunspot stone is especially dangerous to someone with supernormal abilities like you. Do not touch it even out of curiosity.”

Yoon Taeha frowned. “What do you mean by someone with supernormal abilities like me?”

Seon Woo-rak smiled. “A person who possesses a supernormal ability he himself does not yet fully understand.”

Yoon Taeha’s expression hardened. I glared at Seon Woo-rak. “Don’t say unnecessary things.”

“It is important information.”

“Not right now.”

Yoon Taeha looked back ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and forth between us. “Do you two know something about my supernormal ability?”

I answered immediately. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t a lie. I knew the original Yoon Taeha’s ability. But I couldn’t be sure whether the current Yoon Taeha would awaken in the same way. He had not obtained the sunspot stone and the flow of events had changed. I could not be certain his true supernormal would open in exactly the same form. So for now I had to say I didn’t know.

Yoon Taeha looked at me suspiciously but did not press further. Ghost Van slowed down.

“Arrived.”

Southern Warehouse 3 area of the abandoned port. Before us stood an old warehouse building. On the surface it looked like an abandoned logistics warehouse. Rusted iron doors. A broken sign. A half-lowered shutter. Abandoned containers and discarded forklifts lay around it.

Seon Woo-rak got out carrying his bag. “My laboratory is underground.”

The Rat Merchant muttered, “An underground laboratory in an abandoned port. It really looks like a villain’s hideout.”

Seon Woo-rak said casually, “Actual villains use it occasionally too.”

Yoon Taeha stiffened immediately. I grabbed his shoulder. “No hero activities.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You did it with your face.”

We entered the warehouse. The interior was dark. Dust-covered cargo pallets, torn vinyl covers, and rusted conveyor belts were visible. Seon Woo-rak opened the inner office door with familiarity. Inside was a single old desk. He felt beneath it and pressed a hidden switch.

A low rumble sounded. One section of the floor split open, revealing stairs leading underground. The Rat Merchant let out a small gasp of admiration. “Wow. It really is a villain hideout.”

Yoon Taeha’s face grew even stiffer. I said quietly, “Endure it.”

“I really haven’t said anything yet.”

“You did it with your face.”

We descended the stairs. The deeper we went, the more the air changed. Instead of dust and sea smell, there was the cold scent of metal and disinfectant. Old wiring and pipes tangled along the walls, and red emergency lights were lit here and there. Finally the underground laboratory was revealed.

It was wider than expected. A metal experiment table stood in the center, surrounded by measuring equipment, cooling devices, shielding cages, and multiple monitors. One wall held a thick safe-type storage box, and on the opposite side was equipment resembling a medical bed.

Yoon Taeha said quietly, “Isn’t this an illegal facility?”

Seon Woo-rak smiled brightly. “Correct.”

Yoon Taeha immediately looked at me. “Do we really have to do it here?”

“If we go to a legal facility I’ll be arrested immediately.”

“That’s—”

“And the Association would take the sunspot stone.”

Yoon Taeha could not answer. He too had lost complete trust in the Association. Seon Woo-rak cleared the top of the experiment table.

“Now, place the sunspot stone.”

I took the metal box from the backpack. The sunspot stone storage box wrapped in shielding cloth. The moment I set it on the table, the surrounding equipment emitted a low sound. A monitor displayed numbers. Seon Woo-rak’s expression changed. A researcher’s expression.

“Good. Now we can examine it properly.”

I checked the wrist monitor.

It had gone down a little but was still high. Yoon Taeha saw the number on my wrist.

“What is that?”

“My leash.”

“Is it at a dangerous level?”

“Close.”

Yoon Taeha narrowed his brows. “You are in a dangerous state too.”

“You finally noticed?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Were we in that kind of relationship?”

Yoon Taeha closed his mouth. At that moment Seon Woo-rak spoke quietly.

“Strange.”

All eyes turned to him.

“What is?”

Seon Woo-rak continued while looking at the monitor. “The sunspot stone’s activity level is higher than expected. Even wrapped in shielding cloth, the internal waves are unstable.”

“Cause?”

“Two possibilities.” Seon Woo-rak held up two fingers. “First. Internal cracks formed from the impact at the waterway and during transport.”

“Second?”

He slowly looked at Yoon Taeha. “There is one more supernormal factor inside this room that reacts strongly with the sunspot stone.”

Yoon Taeha’s face hardened. I understood immediately. Yoon Taeha. The person who should have reacted with the sunspot stone and awakened in the original story. The moment he entered this place, the sunspot stone was reacting. The original story had not completely disappeared. The sunspot stone still recognized the original protagonist.

Yoon Taeha asked quietly, “Is it because of me?”

Instead of answering, Seon Woo-rak turned the monitor toward us. Two red waveforms moved across the screen. One was me. The other was Yoon Taeha. The two waveforms had different shapes but were resonating simultaneously with the sunspot stone at the center.

Seon Woo-rak said, “Fascinating.”

I said coldly, “I told you not to say that word.”

But this time even I could not deny it. It really was fascinating. And dangerous. The sunspot stone reacted with my Villain Manifestation. At the same time it reacted with Yoon Taeha’s still-unopened supernormal. One opportunity. Two targets. The flow of the original story and the flow I had twisted were colliding on the same experiment table.

At that moment the laboratory lights flickered. Once. Twice. Seon Woo-rak’s expression hardened.

“Someone has tampered with the external power.”

Ghost Van turned toward the door. The Rat Merchant checked his terminal and swallowed a curse.

“This is bad.”

“What was caught?”

“Movement on the warehouse exterior surveillance.”

“Black Dog?”

The Rat Merchant enlarged the screen. His face turned pale.

“No.” He looked at me. “It’s the Association.”

Yoon Taeha looked up in surprise. “How did the Association—”

I immediately looked at Yoon Taeha’s wrist. A thin band for wounded civilians. The biometric monitoring tag placed on patients in the Association’s medical wing. Yoon Taeha followed my gaze and looked at his own wrist. His face hardened.

“This is—”

“For tracking the location of the wounded?”

When I asked, Yoon Taeha could not answer. He genuinely looked as if he hadn’t known. The Rat Merchant said quietly, “Hero. Even if you really didn’t contact the Association, it looks like the Association used you to get here.”

Yoon Taeha’s face went white. “I didn’t know.”

“I know.” I spoke shortly. “That’s what makes it worse.”

At that moment static flowed from a speaker on one side of the laboratory. Crackle. Crackle. Then an unfamiliar male voice sounded.

Seon Woo-rak’s face turned rigid. That reaction alone told me everything. These were not ordinary field agents. Not a rescue team. The ones who had come here were after securing the sunspot stone and me.

The voice from the speaker continued.

The air inside the laboratory froze. Yoon Taeha looked at me. His eyes held both bewilderment and guilt at the same time. I looked at the sunspot stone on the experiment table. The numbers were rising again.

The two red waveforms drew closer. Me and Yoon Taeha. And outside, the Association. The situation was the worst possible. The Association had followed Yoon Taeha. Yoon Taeha resonated with the sunspot stone. The sunspot stone also reacted with my Villain Manifestation. And the Association’s special investigation team viewed me not as a rescue target but as an acquisition target.

I said quietly, “Really.”

Yoon Taeha asked, “What did you say?”

I swallowed the rest. The original protagonist really does drag incidents around with him. There was no way Yoon Taeha would understand even if I said it. Instead I drew my pistol. It was still empty.

The Rat Merchant recoiled in horror. “What are you trying to do with that empty gun again!”

I answered, “I’m not going to shoot.”

“Then why did you take it out?”

I pointed the muzzle not at the laboratory door but at the sunspot stone storage box on the experiment table. Everyone’s expressions changed at once. The Rat Merchant. Seon Woo-rak. Yoon Taeha. Even Ghost Van. They understood. Whether there were bullets or not, that wasn’t what mattered now.

I said quietly, “There are still many places I can aim.”

The Association agent beyond the speaker spoke again.

I did not smile. I had no desire to. The wrist monitor flashed red.

The sunspot stone’s waveform shook once more toward Yoon Taeha. And at that moment, Yoon ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Taeha stepped in front of me.

“You must stop the forced entry.”

I frowned. “What are you doing?”

Yoon Taeha spoke toward the speaker. “This is field hero Yoon Taeha. There are no civilians inside. There is a wounded individual and an unstable supernormal reactor. Please cease forced entry.”

The other side of the speaker fell silent for a moment. Then a cold voice returned.

I looked at Yoon Taeha’s back. Bloodstained civilian clothes. A coat thrown on hastily. Bandages not properly wrapped. Even in that state he stood in front of me. The Association had told him to step back. I had told him not to follow. Yet here he was.

Yoon Taeha said quietly, “I cannot obey that order.”

The voice beyond the speaker grew colder.

“Record it.” Yoon Taeha adjusted his grip on the steel rod. “But if you force entry, I will block you as well.”

The Rat Merchant opened his mouth. “Wow, hero. You’re planning to burn your career from the very start.”

Seon Woo-rak murmured quietly, “Interesting.”

Even after hearing that, I couldn’t say anything. It really was interesting enough to be a completely hopeless situation.

Yoon Taeha stood between the Association and me. Not because he trusted me. Because he could no longer completely trust the Association. And perhaps because he had seen that I had not been completely devoured by the mask.

I slowly lowered the pistol. I did not put it down completely. Instead I moved the muzzle slightly away from the sunspot stone storage box.

“Yoon Taeha.”

He answered without turning around. “I’m listening.”

“If you do this, you become an accomplice too.”

“I know.”

“Your hero career will be shattered from the start.”

“Then I will build it again.”

I clicked my tongue inwardly. This went beyond reckless. But I didn’t say it aloud. The final warning rang from the speaker.

The Rat Merchant quickly operated his terminal. “Dr. Sun! Is there a back door?”

Seon Woo-rak pointed at the inner wall of the laboratory. “There is. However, it will take time to open.”

“How long?”

“Thirty seconds.”

Ghost Van said, “We only have ten seconds.”

Seon Woo-rak remained calm. “Then buy twenty seconds.”

All eyes turned to me. I laughed quietly. This laugh was mine. Probably. The wrist monitor pointed at 78. Dangerous. But not yet 80. The Persona was silent. Yet it had not completely disappeared. I raised the pistol again. An empty gun. But there were far too many things in this room more dangerous than bullets.

The sunspot stone. Yoon Taeha’s unawakened supernormal. My Villain Manifestation. The Association’s forced entry. And all the various equipment in the illegal laboratory.

I said, “All right.”

The Association’s countdown began.

I aimed the muzzle at the cooling pipe on the ceiling. The Rat Merchant swallowed. Yoon Taeha gripped the rod. Seon Woo-rak tore open the back door panel. Ghost Van lowered his body toward the door. I placed my finger on the trigger. There were no bullets. But what this room needed now was not bullets.

I said quietly, “This time.”

“There’s a lot to load for real.”