Traces of the Black Sunstone
The air inside the safehouse was so thick it felt suffocating. I sat on the worn sofa. On the table lay the Black Sunstone containment box. A black metal case etched with a red sun emblem. Even sealed shut, it felt alive.
Thump. Thump. Like an incredibly slow heartbeat.
Beside the box were the flip phone and smartphone the Rat Merchant had given me, a revolver with nearly empty chambers, and a folding knife. It was almost funny how neatly I’d arranged them. None of them were proper tools. The revolver had two bullets left. The folding knife was cheap junk. The flip phone was a temporary burner that could be traced at any moment. The smartphone sat somewhere between the Rat Merchant’s surveillance and his reluctant assistance. And the Black Sunstone—
I hadn’t even opened it yet, and it already held my life as collateral.
I tightened the bandage wrapped around my palm. A little blood seeped through. Wounds torn open during the escape. Scrapes from crawling through the drainage pipes. Gashes from colliding with Hound. My body was wrecked. But what bothered me more was what lingered in my head.
The Viper’s memories still remained. Not complete ones. Just fragments. Yet they were painfully vivid. A dark room. A bound person. A flickering candle. Small glass vials on a table. And cold eyes observing someone dying.
I closed my eyes, then opened them again.
“These aren’t my memories,” I said out loud.
But speaking them aloud didn’t make them disappear. If anything, the lingering echo of those memories seemed to mock me. Are you sure they aren’t yours?
I clenched my teeth. The price of Villain Manifestation wasn’t just pain or stamina drain. It dragged in the way that villain had viewed the world. The thief’s terror. The con man’s arrogance. The Viper’s cold detachment. They were slowly piling up inside me.
This was only from manifesting a low-grade remnant. What would happen if I ever manifested the abilities of a truly powerful villain I knew clearly by name, crime, and power? The mid-boss villains who had cornered Yoon Taeha multiple times. Or the monsters from later events who could turn an entire city into a disaster zone. How long could I hold on if I manifested something like that?
My thoughts stopped there.
Knock. Knock.
The iron door rang out. One short rap, two long ones, then another short. It was the signal the Rat Merchant had mentioned. I snatched up the revolver immediately.
“State your name from outside the door.”
After a brief silence, the Rat Merchant’s voice came through.
“It’s me. The rat you paid to come.”
“Are you alone?”
“I wish I was.”
I aimed the muzzle at the iron door.
“Then turn around and leave.”
From outside, I heard the Rat Merchant curse under his breath.
“I’d love to, but this gentleman flipped the moment he heard about your item. If I didn’t bring him, his face said he’d dissect my entire information network.”
Another voice cut in then.
“That’s an exaggeration. I’d call it verification, not dissection.”
It was an older man’s voice. Thin and dry. The kind of tone that looked down on whoever was listening.
“Is there a difference?” I asked.
The man outside answered calmly.
“Dissection happens after death. Verification can be done while the subject is still alive.”
The Rat Merchant jumped in immediately.
“See? Now you understand why I didn’t want to bring him.”
This wasn’t normal. I kept my eyes fixed on the door and said,
“If you’re coming in, slide your weapons under first.”
A moment later, several items were pushed through the gap beneath the iron door. A small pistol. A folding stun gun. A leather case containing thin scalpels. When I saw the last item, I frowned.
“Why are you carrying scalpels?”
The man outside answered,
“They fit my hands well.”
The Rat Merchant added,
“Just so you know, he doesn’t have a license. Or rather, he did, but it disappeared.”
“There’s no need to phrase revocation quite so delicately.”
“It sounds worse when you say it yourself.”
I took a short breath before opening the iron door. This was different from the Rat Merchant coming in alone. The man about to enter was someone whose name had briefly passed through my memories. Very briefly. But clearly.
I kept the revolver trained as I released the lock.
Click.
The Rat Merchant entered first. He wore an oversized hoodie and a dust mask. His eyes darted around anxiously. Behind him came a tall man who looked to be in his early fifties. A gaunt, lanky build. Deep-set eyes. Hair mixed with black and white. Old silver-rimmed glasses perched on the tip of his nose. He wore a crisp black suit beneath a white lab coat. He looked like someone who had just walked out from somewhere between an operating room and a funeral parlor. In one hand, he carried a black leather bag.
The moment he saw me, his eyes narrowed.
“Copycat.”
“Dr. Sun?”
“That’s what they call me. My real name is Seon Woo-rak.”
Seon Woo-rak. The instant I heard the name, something in the back of my mind reacted. It was a name that had been mentioned briefly in the original story—during the time Yoon Taeha was investigating sunspot-like supernormal materials—as a researcher expelled from the Association. A man obsessed with solar supernormal crystals who had been driven out for ethical violations. Afterward, he had drifted into the black market, bouncing between supernormal criminals and illegal labs. His appearance in the story had been short. His name had been dropped almost in passing. That was why I couldn’t clearly categorize him. Was he a villain? A researcher? An ally? Or a man who summoned disasters? It was unclear.
But one thing was certain. He was dangerous.
Seon Woo-rak studied my face carefully. Or rather, he examined my eyes, the handprints Hound had left on my neck, the bandaged hand, and finally the Black Sunstone containment box on the table. He said,
“You’re alive.”
“You didn’t come to see a dead man, did you?”
“If you had been dead, that would have been worth observing in its own way.”
The Rat Merchant looked at Seon Woo-rak with a disgusted expression.
“This guy starts conversations like this.”
Seon Woo-rak replied calmly,
“Fact-checking is the foundation of any conversation.”
I didn’t lower the revolver.
“If you came to critique my appearance, you can leave.”
Seon Woo-rak’s gaze shifted to the Black Sunstone containment box on the table.
“I have no such intention. That is far more important.”
“Then just look at that.”
“I would like to, but I need to examine you as well.”
He pointed at the handprints on my neck.
“You were bitten by Hound.”
“I was caught.”
“Yet you escaped.”
Seon Woo-rak’s gaze moved down to my bandaged hand.
“There are lingering traces of toxicity on your hand.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Can you smell it?”
“Not smell. I’m observing the reaction. Imitating a tracking dog like Hound isn’t my hobby.”
The Rat Merchant interjected cautiously.
“I told you. Copycat stopped Hound.”
“More accurately, he slowed him down.”
Seon Woo-rak murmured while looking at my hand.
“According to records, Copycat’s supernormal is imitation-type. A low-risk contract villain. Strong evasion tendencies. Low aggression. Submissive toward higher-ranking villains.”
He lifted his head.
“Yet right now, you don’t match the records.”
“Then the records must be wrong.”
“Records are usually late, but they aren’t entirely useless. Especially for low-grade villains. There are fewer variables.”
It was an unpleasant remark. I raised the muzzle slightly.
“Just look at the Black Sunstone.”
Seon Woo-rak glanced at my gun. His expression barely changed.
“You’re impatient.”
“Black Dog is after me, Hound is still alive, the Association is moving, and the Guro Abandoned Factory survivor is looking for me.”
I pressed each word out.
“So save the small talk for later.”
Seon Woo-rak’s pupils narrowed.
“Guro Abandoned Factory survivor. You mean the young man named Yoon Taeha?”
I kept my expression neutral.
“You already know the name?”
“It briefly leaked through the emergency dispatch network. Not an official record. Someone captured it and let it slip downward.”
The Rat Merchant looked at Seon Woo-rak with a horrified face.
“Wait. That hasn’t even circulated through my lines yet.”
Seon Woo-rak didn’t even glance at him.
“Your lines aren’t everything.”
“That’s practically an insult to an information broker.”
“If you don’t like insults, build faster lines.”
“If it were that easy, would I be living in this underground hole sniffing around?”
The Rat Merchant ground his teeth but said nothing more.
Seon Woo-rak placed his leather bag on the table.
“I’ll examine the containment box.”
I spoke immediately.
“Confirm the conditions first.”
Seon Woo-rak’s hand paused.
“Conditions?”
“I told the Rat Merchant. Stability, traceability, storage method. Those three you can share. But do not tell him about my supernormal’s reaction, potential ability amplification, or risk of corruption without my permission.”
The Rat Merchant raised both hands.
“I delivered it exactly. Word for word.”
Seon Woo-rak glanced at the Rat Merchant, then back at me.
“Copycat worrying about his own supernormal reaction. Interesting.”
“If you don’t like the conditions, leave.”
“No. I like them.”
A faint smile tugged at Seon Woo-rak’s lips.
“People who survive long in this world usually know their own market value. But you’re calculating your information value first.”
“Don’t say it like it’s a compliment.”
“It’s not a compliment. It’s an observation.”
“Neither one is welcome.”
Seon Woo-rak pulled out gloves and slipped them on.
“I won’t open the box. I’ll start with surface reactions.”
He opened his bag. Out came a small measuring device, metal tweezers, a magnifying glass with a red lens, and something like gray metallic fabric. He attached a small device to the top of the containment box.
Beep.
A short electronic tone. Numbers flashed rapidly across the device’s screen. Seon Woo-rak’s expression changed. First curiosity. Then suspicion. Finally, excitement.
“Hmm.”
The Rat Merchant swallowed dryly.
“How expensive is that ‘hmm’?”
“Be quiet.”
The playfulness vanished from Seon Woo-rak’s voice. Without taking his eyes off the device, he asked me,
“Copycat. Did you open this?”
“No.”
“Have you touched the crystal with bare hands?”
“I touched the box. I’ve never even seen the material inside.”
“Any exposed memories?”
“None.”
Seon Woo-rak checked the device again.
“Then this is strange.”
“Stop saying it’s strange and explain.”
“The crystal inside the box is already reacting.”
The Rat Merchant took a step back.
“It’s reacting?”
Seon Woo-rak placed the tip of his gloved finger on the red emblem of the box.
“Solar supernormal crystals usually react to external supernormal factors. They activate faintly near supernormal users and are strongly stimulated by direct contact. But this one…”
He looked at me.
“It’s reacting to you.”
I furrowed my brow.
“Even though it’s inside the box?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“That’s why I came all the way here.”
The Rat Merchant cut in.
“So is it dangerous or expensive?”
Seon Woo-rak turned to him.
“I believe I said the information you’re allowed to hear is stability, traceability, and storage method?”
The Rat Merchant bit his lip.
“Drawing the line like that means all three are bad, doesn’t it?”
“You caught that much.”
“I didn’t survive this long for nothing.”
“Good. Then you’ve earned the right to listen.”
Seon Woo-rak tapped the box with his finger.
“First. Stability is low.”
The Rat Merchant’s face hardened.
“How low?”
“If someone nearby uses a strong supernormal, the crystal inside could be stimulated. Even with the box closed, there’s a chance of leakage.”
“And if it leaks?”
“Nearby supernormal users could suffer supernormal factor overload. Ordinary people would experience acute nervous system failure. In the worst case, death.”
The Rat Merchant looked at me.
“You were playing hide-and-seek with Hound while carrying this thing?”
“I didn’t exactly get a manual before I ran.”
Seon Woo-rak continued.
“Second. Traceability is high. Olfactory-type supernormal users like Hound can obviously detect it, and Association equipment can pick up the active wavelength.”
“Distance?”
“Short while the box is sealed. But if you use your supernormal or the crystal activates further, the range expands.”
That meant using Villain Manifestation could reveal my location. I swallowed a curse internally. From now on, every time I used my ability, the chance of survival wouldn’t just rise—the chance of being caught would rise with it. Villain Manifestation was both the power that saved me and the bell that shook my leash.
“Third. Storage method.”
Seon Woo-rak lifted the gray metallic fabric.
“Temporary shielding cloth. Wrapping it with this will reduce the wavelength. It’s not perfect, though.”
The Rat Merchant asked quickly.
“Cost?”
“I’ve already received payment.”
The Rat Merchant’s eyes shook even more anxiously.
“When you say you’ve already received it, it scares me more than if it were free.”
“It’s not your money, so rest easy.”
“Even if it’s someone else’s money, ominous is ominous.”
Seon Woo-rak ignored him.
“That’s all the information you’re permitted to hear.”
The Rat Merchant looked back and forth between me and Seon Woo-rak.
“So from here on it’s the expensive talk?”
I set the revolver on the table. The muzzle wasn’t pointed at the Rat Merchant. But it was enough. The Rat Merchant shut his mouth.
“Fine. I’ll leave.”
He walked toward the door, then stopped.
“Just don’t blow each other up in here. This is my safehouse.”
Seon Woo-rak said flatly,
“The possibility of explosion is low.”
The Rat Merchant’s face stiffened.
“Saying that just means there is a possibility.”
“Every accident has a possibility.”
“I really don’t want to be around this guy.”
The Rat Merchant stepped outside. The iron door closed, and the lock engaged. Inside the safehouse, only Seon Woo-rak and I remained. I looked at him.
“Now speak.”
Seon Woo-rak adjusted his glasses.
“Is your supernormal truly imitation?”
“According to records.”
“I’m not asking about records.”
“Rephrase the question in a way I can answer.”
Seon Woo-rak’s eyes sparkled with interest.
“What do you call your own supernormal?”
I remained silent for a moment. Villain Manifestation. My true ability. Was it right to reveal that name to this dangerous researcher? No. I couldn’t tell him everything. But if I said nothing, I wouldn’t be able to accurately understand the reaction with the Black Sunstone. I gave him half the truth.
“The existing supernormal is indeed imitation. But today, something else opened.”
Seon Woo-rak’s eyes flashed.
“A true supernormal.”
“Probably.”
“Its nature?”
“It can only be used after recognizing the target.”
“Target meaning a person?”
“A villain.”
For the first time, Seon Woo-rak fell completely silent. He stared at me for a long time. Interest. Wariness. And a kind of joy I couldn’t understand.
“It can only be used after recognizing a villain…”
He murmured quietly.
“Manifestation type? Reproduction? Succession? No—if the existing imitation system was merely a shell, it wouldn’t be simple copying. The outwardly revealed supernormal is behavioral imitation. The essence is the manifestation of malignant supernormal information…”
I cut him off.
“What does it have to do with the Black Sunstone?”
Seon Woo-rak’s eyes turned to me.
“Your supernormal is information-based. You said it requires not only the target’s ability but also an understanding of what kind of being they are. The villain’s existence, ability, crimes, symbolism. That means it’s not a simple energy-output type.”
He pointed at the box with his fingertip.
“The Black Sunstone amplifies and corrupts supernormal factors. For physical enhancement types, it heightens bodily reactions. For ignition types, it stimulates output and temperature. But when it acts on an information-based supernormal like yours, there’s a possibility it could draw out insufficient information from deeper places.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“Deeper places?”
“Inside you.”
I frowned.
“How can it draw out information I don’t have?”
“Are you certain you don’t?”
Seon Woo-rak smiled thinly.
“Human memory is far wider and messier than people think. Scenes you saw but forgot, rumors you overheard, impressions emotionally imprinted, information your brain retained even though you didn’t understand it. The recognition you speak of may not only mean memories you can consciously recall.”
I stopped breathing. In other words, villain settings I didn’t think I knew. Names I couldn’t remember. Crimes I had glossed over. Abilities I had dismissed as minor roles and forgotten. If all of that remained deep in my mind, the Black Sunstone could forcibly drag it up. If that happened, I could grow stronger. The current remnant-level manifestation could rise to partial manifestation.
But at the same time—
“Side effects?” I asked.
Seon Woo-rak answered without hesitation.
“Information you can’t handle will come along with it.”
“The villain’s emotions and memories too?”
“Then it would be even more dangerous.”
Seon Woo-rak looked at me.
“Do emotions or memories enter along with the ability?”
I didn’t answer. But not answering was answer enough. Seon Woo-rak laughed quietly.
“As a researcher, it’s a fascinating structure.”
I moved my hand toward the revolver.
“That’s not something you say in front of a person.”
“You’re right. As a human, it’s horrifying.”
“What about complete manifestation?”
At my question, Seon Woo-rak’s expression grew serious.
“There is no guarantee you would remain yourself.”
The safehouse fell silent. The only sound was water dripping somewhere far away. I looked down at the Black Sunstone containment box. Power. It was definitely power. But the price was too heavy. I wouldn’t just gain a villain’s ability. The way the villain had hated the world, the emotions they had felt while killing people, their broken and twisted memories—all of it would manifest inside me. The Black Sunstone would deepen that process. To grow stronger, I would need to know more. The more I knew, the more I would be corrupted. The ability called Villain Manifestation had been structured that way from the beginning.
Seon Woo-rak said,
“There aren’t many paths you can choose right now.”
“Summarize them.”
“Seal the Black Sunstone and run. The immediate chance of death decreases, but in the long term you gain no power and the item’s instability remains unsolved.”
“The other path?”
“Slightly open the Black Sunstone in a controlled environment.”
I glared at him.
“The word ‘slightly’ is the hardest to believe.”
“I won’t open the box completely. I’ll only expose a tiny amount of the internal crystal’s wavelength. We’ll confirm the reaction with your supernormal and, if possible, raise the baseline of your true supernormal.”
“If it fails?”
“Severe supernormal factor overload. Mental information reflux. Memory confusion. Seizures. Death.”
“If it succeeds?”
Seon Woo-rak’s lips curved upward.
“You will obtain a hand that lets you survive much longer than now.”
A statement that treated a person’s life as a variable on an experiment table. But it wasn’t wrong. I was weak right now. I hadn’t killed Hound, nor had I completely subdued him. Black Dog would keep coming, and the Association would widen their investigation. Yoon Taeha would likely follow the clues from the factory incident to find me. In this state, I wouldn’t last long. I needed power. But in gaining power, I might lose myself.
I asked,
“Success rate?”
Seon Woo-rak thought for a moment, then said,
“Thirty percent with current equipment.”
“Low.”
“If you were in perfect condition, forty percent.”
“Still low.”
“In my lab, I could raise it to fifty-five percent.”
“Location?”
“I won’t tell you, because you’d threaten me with that gun and demand I take you there.”
What a brazen man. I asked,
“What do you want?”
“A blood sample.”
“Rejected.”
“I expected that. Then hair and skin tissue.”
“No to that either.”
“How about urine?”
“Say one more word and I shoot.”
Seon Woo-rak sighed as if disappointed.
“You’re quite defensive about your own value.”
“Everything that comes out of my body is information. I have no intention of handing it to a researcher.”
“A correct judgment. Which makes it all the more regrettable.”
I stared at Seon Woo-rak for a moment. This man was dangerous. But he had skill. At the very least, the information he had given me about the Black Sunstone filled in the gaps in what I already knew. I couldn’t cut him off right now. I had to use him.
At that moment, urgent knocking sounded on the outer iron door.
Knock knock knock.
It wasn’t the signal. It was the Rat Merchant.
“Copycat.”
I picked up the revolver.
“What is it?”
Outside, the Rat Merchant’s voice trembled.
“A message came through the relay channel.”
“From who?”
“Madok.”
The moment that name was spoken, the air inside the safehouse grew even colder. The Rat Merchant pushed a small terminal through the gap beneath the door. I picked it up. Short sentences floated on the screen.
[Copycat.]
[Nice trick with the phone.]
[Hound says he lost your scent.]
[But he asked something strange.]
A moment later, the final sentence appeared.
[Are you really Copycat?]
I felt my fingertips turn cold. Hound had lost my scent. But in exchange, he had handed over far more dangerous information. Copycat had changed. He was different from the records. He used different abilities. There was a possibility he had come into contact with the Black Sunstone. Black Dog would no longer see me as a mere contract villain.
The terminal vibrated again.
[30 minutes.]
[Come out with the item.]
[If you don’t, I’ll start burning the rat bastard’s dens one by one.]
The Rat Merchant. The safehouse. The contact network. Madok had already begun to move. He hadn’t learned the new burner number. He had thrown the threat directly at the Rat Merchant’s relay channel. And the Rat Merchant couldn’t ignore that threat. Neither could I. If this safehouse was raided, I wouldn’t just lose the Rat Merchant. Burner phones, black market contact routes, the connection to Dr. Sun, and the only space where I could hide my body right now—everything would be gone.
Outside the door, the Rat Merchant spoke quietly.
“Copycat. This isn’t an empty threat. Madok isn’t the type to stop at just scaring people.”
I knew. Madok. A mid-level executive of Black Dog. One of the villains who had drawn out Yoon Taeha’s first true rage. A cruel, calculating man who used his subordinates like disposable tools. And right now, that man’s target was me.
I set the terminal down. Seon Woo-rak was staring at the Black Sunstone containment box.
“The situation has become urgent.”
“If you have advice, give it now.”
“If you’re going to run, wrap it up and go. If you’re going to fight, open it.”
Seon Woo-rak lifted the shielding cloth.
“If you’re going to negotiate, you need to know exactly what cards you hold.”
I looked at him.
“You’re saying I should slightly open the Black Sunstone.”
“Just a little.”
“Success rate?”
“Still thirty percent here.”
“If it fails?”
“Dying would be the easier outcome.”
From outside, I heard the Rat Merchant swallow a curse. There wasn’t much time to hesitate. Madok had given me thirty minutes. That meant he was already tightening the noose. The Association was searching for illegal supernormal items. Yoon Taeha would try to draw me out through conversation. Black Dog was trying to kill me. I had two bullets left. My body was broken, and my ability was unstable.
I placed my hand on the Black Sunstone containment box. My skin prickled. In my mind, the thief’s terror, the con man’s arrogance, and the Viper’s coldness all writhed at once. The villains’ remnants. The dirty traces left inside me. I pressed those emotions down and said,
“Seon Woo-rak.”
“I’m listening.”
“If anything seems even slightly off, close it immediately.”
“I’ll have to see the situation.”
I raised the revolver and aimed it at his forehead.
“That’s not the answer I want to hear right now.”
Seon Woo-rak looked at my gun for a moment, then smiled.
“Very well. If anything seems off, I’ll close it.”
It was an untrustworthy statement. But right now, I had no choice but to bet on it. I looked down at the Black Sunstone containment box. The black sun inside was calling to me. And I—
To survive, I had to open that sun.
Seon Woo-rak took a palm-sized metal device from his bag. It was a device with three overlapping circular rings. He placed it on top of the box and fitted the red-lensed magnifying glass to his eye.
“I won’t open it completely.”
“I know.”
“What I’m about to do is loosen the locking mechanism by only one stage. The internal crystal won’t be directly exposed, but a portion of the wavelength will leak out.”
“How long?”
“Three seconds at first.”
“Is three seconds enough?”
“Three seconds is enough to break a person.”
Seon Woo-rak spoke calmly. I didn’t laugh. He turned the device’s first ring.
Click.
The red sun emblem on the box slowly brightened. The air inside the safehouse changed. The temperature hadn’t risen. Yet my skin felt hot. Every time I breathed in, it felt like thin ash was sticking to the inside of my lungs.
[Warning.]
[External supernormal crystal reaction detected.]
Seon Woo-rak’s eyes flashed.
“There’s a reaction in your pupils.”
“Do you have time to look at my eyes right now?”
“It’s a reaction.”
“If I collapse, closing it comes first.”
“Of course.”
It was an untrustworthy answer. The second ring turned.
Click.
A scraping sound came from inside the box. Like fingernails scratching the metal interior. At the same time, countless scenes shook deep inside my mind. A narrow alley. A mask. Blood-stained cards. A rusted knife. Stage lights. Laughter. Screams. A black curtain. And names. Names I couldn’t remember. Names I definitely knew but had forgotten. All those traces began rising from the bottom of my mind like black water.
“Copycat.”
Seon Woo-rak’s voice grew distant.
“Reaction rate is rising. Twelve. Eighteen. Twenty-five.”
I gritted my teeth.
“You haven’t even opened it yet.”
“This is preliminary reaction. The crystal is knocking on you first.”
The third ring. Seon Woo-rak’s finger stopped. He looked at me.
“From here, it will be difficult to turn back.”
“The situation is already beyond turning back.”
“Do you agree?”
“Do it.”
Seon Woo-rak turned the third ring.
Creeeeak.
The red emblem on the box split. Just a hairline fracture. Light leaked through the crack. It wasn’t red. It was black. Light, yet black. It made no sense. But that black light clearly stabbed my eyes.
[Supernormal reaction rate 31%]
[Supernormal reaction rate 44%]
[Supernormal reaction rate 59%]
My breath caught. Something inside me opened. The thief’s terror screamed. The con man’s arrogance laughed. The Viper’s coldness quietly opened its eyes. And behind them, in an even deeper darkness I had yet to name, someone knocked on the stage.
Knock. Knock. Knock. Like an actor checking the floor before the curtain rose.
“Reaction rate sixty-eight.”
Seon Woo-rak’s voice quickened.
“It’s rising too fast. Copycat, hold on to your consciousness.”
“Close it.”
“It hasn’t even been two seconds yet.”
“Close it!”
Before I finished speaking, my vision flipped black. I was no longer in the safehouse. An old theater. Empty seats. A dusty stage. Black lighting falling from above. Someone was clapping from the audience seats.
Clap. Clap. Clap. Slow, polite applause.
On the stage lay a single mask. A black mask that was half smiling, half crying. From behind the mask, a voice spoke.
If there is no audience, there is no fear.
I stopped breathing. This wasn’t a memory. It wasn’t the thief, the con man, or the Viper. This was clearer. Wider. More dangerous. A black curtain slowly rose from the floor. Beyond it, shadows of countless people were cast. The shadows were all looking at me. No. They were looking at the stage. And standing at the center was me.
“Close it!”
I didn’t know if I had shouted or only thought it. In reality, Seon Woo-rak manipulated something. Creeeeak! The sound of the box closing rang out. At the same time, the black theater shattered into pieces. I rolled off the sofa.
“Cough!”
My lungs belatedly spat out breath. The floor was cold. My palms were soaked with blood. The taste of iron rose from the back of my throat. Seon Woo-rak knelt beside me. Both excitement and fear floated on his face at once.
“Seven seconds.”
He said,
“The exposure lasted seven seconds.”
“You said three…”
My voice was hoarse.
“You pulled too strongly. Or more accurately, the crystal pushed its wavelength toward you.”
A black sentence floated in the center of my vision. This one was far darker than before. As if carved into the inside of my eyelids with a knife.
[Supernormal reaction rate 76%]
[Warning: Mental information reflux has occurred.]
[Villain information fragment detected.]
I gasped for breath. The moment I saw the next sentence, my fingertips froze.
[Target: Persona]
[Recognition stage: Fragment]
[Manifestable: Stage Sense]
[Caution: Directing impulse, audience-oriented thinking, and desire to collect fear may flow in.]
Persona. I knew that name. The villain who had tried to destroy Yoon Taeha not physically but mentally. The one who dragged people’s fears onto the stage, blurring the boundary between reality and illusion the greater the fear became. The master of the black stage. That name had now lodged inside me as a fragment.
Seon Woo-rak swallowed.
“Copycat. Something just overlapped on your face for a moment.”
I touched my face with trembling hands. There was nothing. But Seon Woo-rak clearly looked as if he had seen it. For a very brief instant, something must have overlapped on my face. A black mask. A trace of the stage. Villain Manifestation had deepened by one stage. And I instinctively understood the price.
The thief who had taught me how to run. The con man who had taught me how to deceive. The Viper who had taught me how to bite and kill. This was different from them. Persona viewed people in a fundamentally different way. He didn’t see people as people. He saw them as an audience. He didn’t see fear as emotion. He saw it as fuel. That way of thinking hung inside my head like an incredibly thin thread.
From outside the door, the Rat Merchant’s trembling voice came.
“Are you alive?”
I placed my hand on the floor and barely managed to stand. The Black Sunstone containment box on the table was closed. But the red sun emblem was still faintly flickering. Seon Woo-rak looked at me and murmured quietly.
“It was thirty percent.”
I caught my breath and glared at him.
“Was it a success or a failure?”
Seon Woo-rak thought for a moment. The corner of his mouth slowly rose.
“You survived, so it was a success. You aren’t fine, so it was a failure.”
The worst possible answer. At that moment, the Rat Merchant’s terminal rang again. His voice leaked in quietly from outside the door.
“Copycat.”
I turned my head.
“What expensive news is it this time?”
I heard the Rat Merchant swallow.
“A new message from Madok’s side.”
A moment later, the terminal was pushed through the gap beneath the door. A short sentence floated on the screen.
[Time’s up.]
[Come out with the item.]
[If you don’t, I’ll start burning the rat bastard’s dens.]
It was Madok’s message. Short, blatant, and without any unnecessary embellishment to the threat. I tried to set the terminal down. At that moment, the screen flickered once. One more sentence appeared.
[The audience is entering.]
My fingertips stiffened. It couldn’t be Madok’s sentence. Madok wouldn’t use that kind of phrasing. Seon Woo-rak’s expression changed when he saw the sentence as well.
“Strange.”
“Why?”
“This message didn’t come through the relay channel.”
The Rat Merchant spoke from outside with a trembling voice.
“Then where did it come from?”
Seon Woo-rak slowly lifted his head.
“The safehouse internal network.”
Silence. The old lamp inside the safehouse flickered once. And in the center of my vision, a black sentence rose very slowly.
[The audience is entering.]
I realized it. What the Black Sunstone had summoned wasn’t only power. The door to the stage had opened—just a little.