The First Stage

The wrist meter for Persona's Black Stage was blinking red.

The numbers were slowly dropping, but it was still dangerous. Only moments earlier I had been standing on the black stage. A dilapidated theater. Empty seats. A black mask half smiling, half weeping. And Persona. That name had lodged itself deep inside my mind. It wasn’t simply a memory. It was embedded in me, as if I had known the layout of a stage I had never seen for a very long time.

I leaned back against the sofa and steadied my breathing. The metallic taste of blood still coated my tongue. The sunspot stone storage box lay on the table, wrapped in shielding cloth. The red sun emblem was hidden, yet something inside it still seemed to pulse. Thump. Thump. The sound wasn’t coming from the box. It echoed inside my skull.

Rat Merchant’s voice drifted through the door. “Copycat. Say something. You still alive in there?”

I couldn’t answer right away. My throat was bone-dry. Several seconds passed before I managed to speak.

“Not quite dead yet.”

A short curse came from the other side. “If that’s your idea of reassurance, you’ve got a seriously shitty bedside manner.”

Seon Woo-rak stood beside the table. He tightened the edges of the shielding cloth over the sunspot stone storage box with steady hands. His movements were calm, but cold sweat glistened on his forehead.

“Seven point four seconds,” he said. “More than double the original plan.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I distinctly remember you saying three seconds.”

“That was my intention as well.” Seon Woo-rak kept his gaze fixed on the meter screen. “The issue is that the box reacted first. It would be more accurate to say the crystal inside forced the gap open rather than me opening it.”

“So you’re saying it’s not my fault.”

“It would be inconvenient if you summarized it that neatly.” Seon Woo-rak finally looked at me. “Your own supernormal ability couldn’t reject the reaction. The sunspot stone and you pulled each other in.”

The words left a foul taste. It sounded as though the stone and I had wanted one another.

I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. “Just give me the result. Success or failure?”

Seon Woo-rak’s eyes gleamed. I didn’t like that look. A man had nearly died, yet he was more interested in the phenomenon he had uncovered.

“It’s difficult to call it a failure.”

“Then we can call it a success?”

“You didn’t die. The supernormal reaction ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rate stopped below the runaway threshold. And you connected with a new target. In those respects, it is a success.” He paused, studying my face. “However, a mask appeared on your face for a brief moment.”

I lifted a hand to my cheek. Nothing. Only blood, sweat, and lingering heat.

“I don’t feel anything now.”

“Which is why I said ‘for a brief moment.’” Seon Woo-rak smiled thinly. “It was a black mask. Half smiling, half crying. Does that match the symbol of the entity you called Persona?”

I said nothing. He understood anyway.

At that moment a black sentence rose in the center of my vision.

I read the message to the end. As I did, the tips of my fingers gradually turned cold.

Persona. The villain who had tried to destroy Yoon Taeha not in body but in mind. The one who enjoyed breaking people more than killing them. The one who had trapped citizens in the middle of the city, made them suspect one another, and offered choices for survival. Those choices had looked like salvation, but they were stage mechanisms. When one person pressed a button, another died. When one opened a door, another’s exit closed. When someone chose their own life, the stage fed on that terror and grew wider.

A complete Persona would have done this on a city-wide scale. But what had opened inside me was only a fragment. Small-scale stage sense. Weak illusion. Movement path illusion. Fear response amplification. Even so, it was dangerous. It was fundamentally different from the lower remnants. The Thief saw escape routes. The Swindler saw openings to deceive. Viper’s Fang saw where to strike. Persona saw people. Or rather, did not see them as people. Roles. Audience. Victims. Leads. Supporting cast. Stage props. That was how it categorized them.

That way of thinking clung to the inside of my skull like a thin thread. I dragged a hand down my face.

“Get out.”

Seon Woo-rak looked up. “I assume that isn’t directed at me?”

“If it were meant for you, I would have used more words.” I closed my eyes, then opened them again. “It was meant for the things that have crawled inside me.”

Seon Woo-rak watched me for a moment, then nodded. “Hold on to that distinction. If it collapses, you will cease to be yourself.”

“Surprisingly sound advice.”

“It isn’t that I avoid giving sound advice. It’s that people usually understand it too late.”

“Have you never considered that your tone is why they don’t listen?”

Seon Woo-rak pretended to ponder it. “I have, several times. But it wasn’t a problem worth fixing.”

He really was an insufferable man to the very end.

From beyond the steel door, Rat Merchant spoke again. “Since the two of you nearly died and seem to have bonded, how about opening the door? The situation outside has gone to shit in a way that money can’t fix.”

I glanced at Seon Woo-rak. He finished wrapping the sunspot stone storage box completely in shielding cloth, secured it with metal straps, and slid it toward me.

“Activity level has decreased slightly.”

“Can we call it stabilized?”

“I wouldn’t use such an optimistic expression. More like throwing a wet cloth over an ember on the verge of explosion.”

“How long will it hold?”

“A little longer than previously estimated. Roughly forty-eight hours.”

I placed the box inside my backpack. “So I bought a day with my life.”

“A day obtained without dying. In this business, that’s quite expensive.”

The truth of it only soured my mood further. I tightened the backpack straps and opened the steel door. Rat Merchant, waiting outside, took a step back. The moment he saw my face he frowned.

“Touch your face.”

I rubbed my chin with the back of my hand. “Blood?”

“I wish it were just blood.” Rat Merchant stared at me and lowered his voice. “Your mouth is closed, but it looked like you were smiling. Not your expression. Like someone pasted a different one on top of your face.”

I had no reply. There was nothing to say. Rat Merchant didn’t press. He was a coward, but that same cowardice let him read lines. He knew pushing the question would only hurt him. Instead he pulled a small tablet from his pocket.

“Let’s deal with your face later. This is more urgent right now.”

The screen showed the dark market bulletin board. A new post was pinned at the very top.

Rat Merchant shook the tablet. “The entire Guro underworld is hunting you now. The ones who smell money have already started moving, and even the cowards will sell information.”

I stared at the screen. Three hundred million. That was not a sum placed on an ordinary subcontracted villain. It meant the sunspot stone was that important. Or that Black Dog’s upper echelon was desperate enough to confirm whether I had opened it.

“What about Madok?” I asked. Rat Merchant’s expression hardened.

“He burned one of my auxiliary safehouses.” He ground his teeth. “One of my dens is gone. I evacuated the people in advance so no one died, but some equipment and records were lost.”

“He’s moving fast.”

“Fast doesn’t cover it. He’s erasing every place you might hide, one by one.” Anger threaded through Rat Merchant’s voice. Half of it was aimed at Madok. The other half was aimed at me. I couldn’t blame him. The moment I entered his information network, he had been dragged into this game as well.

“What about the Association?” Seon Woo-rak answered while checking his equipment. “Search teams are sweeping the area.” He showed me the screen. A short red spike appeared on a small graph. “It’s likely a device searching for sunspot stone reactions. The brief opening earlier left a trace.”

Rat Merchant looked back and forth between us. “Let’s summarize. Black Dog put a bounty on you, Madok is burning my dens, the Association has laid out a search net, Hound has your scent, and now some stage-and-mask thing has crawled inside you.” He swallowed dryly. “At this point a normal person would be shopping for a coffin, right?”

“An accurate summary,” Seon Woo-rak said.

Rat Merchant glared at him. “I wasn’t summarizing for your commentary.”

I set the tablet down. “What about Yoon Taeha?”

Rat Merchant’s face twisted slightly. “That rookie hero. We don’t know yet if he’s officially with the Association. But the post he left on the public tip channel keeps spreading.” He scrolled with his finger. A familiar sentence appeared.

Typical Yoon Taeha. He still didn’t know the true nature of the sunspot stone or what it originally meant. All he knew was that people had been hurt at the site, Black Dog was searching for someone, and a dangerous object had disappeared. And that was enough to make him move.

I picked up my smartphone. Rat Merchant’s eyes widened. “You’re not seriously thinking of replying to that hero right now, are you?”

I didn’t answer. Rat Merchant reached for my wrist, then stopped. He must have decided grabbing me would cost him. I accessed the Association’s public tip channel. Leaving a direct number would be suicide. Pinpointing exact coordinates was also dangerous. But I could give a direction.

I opened a one-time reply window. My fingers paused for a second. Persona’s voice whispered from inside.

Call the lead. The more audience there is, the clearer the stage becomes.

I clenched my teeth. “Shut up.”

Rat Merchant flinched. “That wasn’t aimed at me, right?”

“If you stay quiet, that’s enough.” I typed briefly.

I hit send. Rat Merchant clutched his head with both hands. “You just used the Association channel. At a time like this.”

“It was a one-time reply.”

“If you’re calling that a safety measure, your survival instincts are already dead.” He lowered his voice but couldn’t hide his anger. “You’ve got a leash around your neck from Black Dog, Hound has your scent, there’s a bounty on the dark market, and now you’re dragging a hero into this?”

“I didn’t drag him in.”

“Then what the hell do you call it?”

I slipped the smartphone into my pocket. “I only gave direction to someone who was going to come anyway.”

Rat Merchant fell silent. He stared at me. The irritation from earlier slowly transformed into unease. “You’re thinking of enlarging the board.”

“The board is already large.”

“And?”

“Better than being dragged along.”

Rat Merchant swallowed a curse. His eyes flicked to my wrist meter.

The number was still high.

“Copycat,” Rat Merchant said carefully. “You weren’t the type to set up boards like this. You were cautious, quick at calculating loss, but you never gathered people in one place like this.”

I looked at the meter and answered. “I know that too.”

“Then stop. That thought might not even be yours.”

The words were sharper than expected. Rat Merchant didn’t know what Persona was, but he instinctively sensed I had changed. I adjusted my backpack strap. Behind me, the sunspot stone storage box pulsed faintly with heat.

“It’s already too late.”

Rat Merchant couldn’t say anything more. Seon Woo-rak had been quietly listening to the exchange. His gaze lingered longer on my wrist meter than on my face.

“You’re attempting to use some of Persona’s thinking right now.”

I looked at him. “Don’t say that out loud.”

“You’re already doing it even if I don’t say it.” His voice was low. There was no humor in it this time. “Gather multiple parties in the same space and make them collide. Stimulate the pursuers’ fear and suspicion. Use the resulting chaos to slip away. Structurally, it’s no different from directing a stage.”

“I decided this.”

“That distinction matters.” Seon Woo-rak nodded. “But the Persona inside you would say the same thing. That you decided it.”

I didn’t answer. That was what bothered me most. My own judgment and the villain’s lingering echo. I had believed I could separate the two. But what was I supposed to do when they agreed?

Creating a board to survive. Persona called it a stage. I called it strategy. If the result was the same, where was the boundary between them?

I rubbed the back of my neck. The black mask tattoo burned hot.

“Rat Merchant.”

“I’m listening. Even though I really don’t want to.”

“The route to the Central Shopping Mall.”

Rat Merchant narrowed his eyes. “You’re heading there?”

“Yes.”

“That place is the worst for hiding. The central hall is wide open, the upper-level railings have clear sightlines, and you can come up from the underground parking. Plenty of entrances, perfect for being surrounded.”

“That’s why we’re going.”

Rat Merchant looked momentarily speechless. He glanced at Seon Woo-rak. “We should stop him, right?”

Seon Woo-rak answered calmly. “It’s actually rational.”

“Why are you agreeing with him?”

“A location that’s easy to surround is also a location that makes it easy for others to surround each other.”

Rat Merchant looked back and forth between us, then let out a hollow laugh. “When a researcher and a villain head in the same direction, usually only the people nearby end up dead.”

“We’re not dead yet,” I said.

Rat Merchant shot back immediately. “There’s no one in this room who finds that comforting.”

He was right. We cleaned up the safehouse. There wasn’t much to take. The sunspot stone storage box. Two burner phones. A smartphone. A handgun. A folding knife. Bandages and painkillers from the first-aid kit. Seon Woo-rak packed his equipment neatly into a black bag. Even then he kept moving the sunspot stone reaction meter between my wrist and the backpack.

“Do you have to keep pointing that thing at me?”

When I asked, Seon Woo-rak answered nonchalantly. “I need to know when you’re going to explode.” He thought for a moment, then added, “And if I can stop it before you do, I should.”

“Skip the first part and start with the second.”

“That would reduce the amount of information.”

“My patience is also running low.”

Only then did Seon Woo-rak close his mouth.

We left the safehouse. The western passage was as filthy as Rat Merchant had warned. It connected to the back alleys of an abandoned shopping district and a scrapyard for demolition materials. Rusted metal fences twisted like a maze. Broken tiles, plastic sign fragments, and corroded rebar littered the ground. The dawn air was cold, but inside the alley the stench of stagnant water and rust had settled. It was an eerily perfect stage.

The moment that thought crossed my mind, I stopped walking.

“What do you see this time?” Rat Merchant asked quietly.

I didn’t answer. My vision had changed slightly. It wasn’t like the Thief’s arrows or the Swindler’s floating cards. This time the space itself split apart like stage props. Places where human gazes would naturally fall. Walls that would bounce sound. Corners where darkness pooled most thickly. Directions frightened people would instinctively flee. Floors easy to trip on. Doors that looked blocked but could actually be opened.

The words audience objectification thinking stabbed into my eyes. At the same time an odd overlay settled over Rat Merchant’s face. Cowardly information broker. Human who weighed money against life. Supporting character with high likelihood of fleeing.

I closed my eyes immediately. No. Rat Merchant was not a supporting character. He was a trading partner. A person. The same went for Seon Woo-rak. Dangerous researcher. Ally to be used. But not an audience member. Not a role.

I drew in a deep breath.

“Copycat.” Rat Merchant’s voice came from close by. “Your face is doing that thing again. You should stop now.”

I opened my eyes. The vision was still strange, but I could endure it. “Keep moving.”

Rat Merchant studied my face, then asked no further questions. We passed through the fences and headed toward the Central Shopping Mall. In the distance, vehicle engines rumbled. More than one. Rat Merchant’s expression stiffened.

“Coming from the east.”

“Bounty hunters?”

“Probably. Doesn’t sound like official Black Dog members. They don’t move this loudly.”

Seon Woo-rak checked his wrist device. “Search team passed north again as well.”

I glanced back at him. “Distance?”

“Not exact, but within eight hundred meters. Since you opened the sunspot stone, it’s natural the tracking net is tightening.”

The price was coming due. Bounty hunters from the east. The Association from the north. Black Dog from the south. And somewhere among them, Yoon Taeha would come.

I stopped in front of the Central Shopping Mall’s shattered glass doors. The building had once been a shopping center. Now it was an empty shell awaiting demolition. When I pushed the door, the old hinges screamed.

Inside was vast. Part of the ceiling had collapsed, and faint dawn light filtered through the glass dome above. In the center of the first floor stood a dried-up fountain. Empty storefronts ringed it in a circle. The escalator stood motionless like a dark staircase leading to the upper level. Old advertisements remained on the walls.

Make today special.

The sentence made laughter rise inside me. It wasn’t my laughter. I forced the corners of my mouth down.

Rat Merchant looked around and muttered, “It really does look like a stage. I hate to say it, but it matches the taste of whatever crawled inside you.”

I didn’t answer. The observation was too accurate.

The moment I stepped into the central hall, the space changed again. The empty storefronts looked like seats. The fountain was center stage. The escalator was an exit route. The collapsed ceiling was lighting. And the people who would soon enter this place—audience.

Dangerous. But not yet eighty.

“Seon Woo-rak.”

“I’m watching.”

“Tell me when it passes seventy-five.”

“It might be more urgent to shut it down than to tell you.”

I glared ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at him. Seon Woo-rak corrected himself obediently. “I will notify you the instant it exceeds seventy-five.”

Rat Merchant whispered beside me. “So what exactly are you planning to do in this stage-like abandoned building?”

I looked at the broken information sign. [Underground Parking] [Emergency Stairs] [Management Office]. Some of the letters had fallen off. Persona’s stage sense overlaid new meaning onto them. What the pursuers wanted to see. Where a fugitive might hide. Where the one holding the black stone might be.

I took out my smartphone and accessed the dark market bulletin board. Anonymous account. Short post.

Copycat sighted. Underground parking area of Central Shopping Mall. Black stone confirmed.

I sent it. Rat Merchant almost grabbed my wrist again but stopped. “You just broadcast your location?”

“I broadcast the underground parking location.”

“You think wordplay will keep my heart from dropping into my stomach?”

“It’s not wordplay.” I looked down at the central hall floor. The building’s layout organized itself inside my head. The underground parking lay directly beneath the central hall. Three entrances: east ramp, north emergency stairs, freight elevator beside the management office. The dark market hunters would come from the east. The Association would search from the north. Black Dog would most likely rise from the southern drainage channel. If I made them all look at the same place, they would end up looking at one another. At that moment I would disappear.

The problem was how to hold out until then. I inhaled deeply and, for the first time, consciously grasped Persona’s fragment.

“Persona's Black Stage.”

My voice echoed low through the hall. The air changed. Something unfolded. Not the feeling of a curtain descending, but the realization that an invisible curtain had always been there.

The shadows around the fountain deepened. The letters on the broken advertisement board trembled for a moment. The arrow on the underground parking sign appeared sharper. It wasn’t visible only to me. Rat Merchant flinched.

“The sign just looked like it moved to me too.”

“It didn’t move. I made it look like it moved.”

“You think explaining the difference makes me any less anxious?”

Persona's Black Stage was not complete reality manipulation. At least not yet. It could not create walls that didn’t exist or open doors that weren’t there. But it could make places where gazes already turned clearer. Make open paths look more tempting. Make blocked paths feel more dangerous. It made anxious humans see the clues they wanted to see.

Weak illusion. Movement path illusion. Fear response amplification. The word fragment was accurate. It was not a complete stage. But it was enough to create chaos.

Footsteps came from the east entrance.

“Is this the place?”

“You saw the post.”

“Three hundred million if we catch Copycat. Keep your eyes open.”

Bounty hunters. I gestured for Rat Merchant and Seon Woo-rak to hide inside an empty storefront. Five hunters entered the central hall. Two with guns. One with a steel pipe. One with a mechanical assist device on his arm. The last seemed to be a supernormal user; small sparks danced at his fingertips. Their armament was too good for mere trash. Yet their movements lacked the discipline of official organization members. Men gathered by money. They didn’t trust one another.

Persona's Black Stage slipped into that gap.

“Underground parking,” someone said.

I said nothing. But old announcement speakers in the hall crackled with static. Chzzt. Chzzt. A very faint voice mixed in.

—Down there.

One hunter looked up. “Did you hear that?”

Another frowned. “Stop listening to nonsense and look at the sign. He went underground.”

It wasn’t a sound created by Joker Card. It was closer to an illusion woven by Persona's Black Stage from the hall’s static and their own expectations. Weak. Short. But enough.

The hunters’ gazes turned toward the underground parking sign. At that moment, different footsteps came from the north entrance. More regular. The Association. It wasn’t Yoon Taeha yet. Two field agents carrying equipment entered cautiously.

“Supernormal wave residue confirmed.”

“Possibility of illegal item reaction. Entering interior.”

The hunters froze at the same time. The Association agents saw them. Gun barrels rose.

“Lower your weapons.”

One hunter laughed. “Just out for an early morning walk. Guess we brought too much gear.”

The Association agent repeated, “Lower your weapons. From now on this area is under Association control.”

The voice was calm, but fingers hovered near triggers. Persona's Black Stage fed on that tension. I felt it. Fear. Suspicion. Greed. Anxiety. The emotions gathered at the center of the hall like black threads. The fountain’s shadow grew a little darker.

Seon Woo-rak spoke quietly. “The reading is rising.”

“I can still hold.” My breathing had grown slightly labored. A red curtain seemed to flicker at the edge of my vision. It wasn’t really there. It must not be there. I clenched my teeth.

One hunter said to the Association agent, “Instead of wasting time on us, why don’t you look for Copycat? He’s the one with the black stone, right?”

“Where did you obtain that information?”

“You talked too much.”

Before the words finished, third footsteps came from the southern passage. Black Dog. This time it was different. The steps were quiet. Black jumpers. Black dog tattoos. And from behind them, low breathing. It wasn’t Hound, but they were official Black Dog members.

“Everyone’s gathered,” one Black Dog member said quietly. “Where’s Copycat?”

The central hall froze. Bounty hunters. Association agents. Black Dog. Three groups stood in the same space, seeking the same thing for different reasons.

Me. And the sunspot stone.

Rat Merchant cursed silently beside me. I raised a hand to signal quiet. Persona's Black Stage had already been cast. But it was not a completed trap. Only a thin membrane. If anyone pushed even slightly harder, it would tear. So I had to decide the direction of the push.

I nudged a piece of broken advertisement board on the floor with my toe. Thud. A small sound. At the same time Persona's Black Stage wove itself with the unease in the hall. From the darkness near the underground parking, a shadow wearing a backpack flickered past. A fake. An extremely brief illusion. But it was the shadow every person present wanted to see.

Copycat.

“There!” One hunter reacted first. He ran toward the underground parking. An Association agent shouted, “Stop! We will consider this refusal to comply with control!”

The Black Dog member spat a curse and turned. “Whoever catches him first gets to keep one arm!”

Balance shattered in an instant. The hunters ran, afraid the bounty would be stolen. The Association tried to restrain them. Black Dog treated both as obstacles. In front of the narrow underground parking entrance, the three groups tangled together. Someone aimed a gun. Someone ignited flames in their hand. An Association agent drew a suppression baton. A Black Dog member unfolded a black chain-like supernormal device from his wrist. No gunshots yet. But they would come soon.

I didn’t wait for that moment. “We move now.”

Rat Merchant and Seon Woo-rak moved at the same time. We slipped into the low passage behind the management office on the opposite side of the central hall. It had probably once been for cleaning staff. Low and narrow. The sign had fallen off and the door was half rusted. But Persona's Black Stage blurred it. Made it less noticeable. Made gazes slide past. Made passersby think, That’s probably blocked. It wasn’t perfect concealment. But the people gathered in the central hall were now more concerned with one another. That was enough.

We pushed ourselves into the passage. Gunshots finally erupted behind us. Bang! An Association agent’s shout followed immediately. “Weapons down!” Someone cursed. Someone screamed. Persona's Black Stage tried to devour that scream. I almost stopped. The scream felt like fuel. Terror made the stage clearer. If I turned back now, I could wrap the entire hall a little tighter. Make the hunters suspect one another more. Show the Association agents false shadows. Push the Black Dog deeper into the underground parking. I could buy more time in that chaos.

I can do it. I should do it. The more audience, the easier the performance.

I stopped. Rat Merchant grabbed my arm. “Copycat.” His hand was trembling. “Your face went there again just now. You can’t turn back.”

I sucked in a breath. Only then did I realize I had been smiling. The corners of my mouth had risen. Just a little. But clearly. I forced my expression rigid.

“Go.” My voice cracked slightly.

Rat Merchant asked no more questions. We reached a small emergency door at the end of the passage. It was locked. Rat Merchant reached for his bundle of keys. At that moment a voice came from behind us in the passage.

“Are you escaping that way?”

My body stiffened. A clear, young voice. But mixed with exhausted breathing. I slowly turned my head. At the entrance of the passage, between dawn light and dust, a young man stood. Torn jacket. Ill-fitting temporary Association equipment. Traces of the abandoned factory incident remained on his face. But his eyes looked straight at me. A faint blue light swirled deep in his black pupils.

Yoon Taeha.

He stood before me.

A red curtain flickered at the edge of my vision. Persona’s fragment laughed.

The lead has entered.

I gripped the backpack strap. Yoon Taeha took one step closer.

“Are you Copycat?” His voice was cautious. More wary than hostile. More confirming than angry.

I didn’t answer. Yoon Taeha’s gaze moved to my backpack. The sunspot stone storage box. The first opportunity he should have obtained. It was now on my back.

“You have the item Black Dog is looking for,” Yoon Taeha said. “People are getting hurt because of that item. Please come to the Association. We can begin the protection request process.”

Rat Merchant drew in a small breath beside me. Seon Woo-rak said nothing. He was instead observing this encounter. I looked at Yoon Taeha. The man the world would push to the center of events. The human who had survived the abandoned factory without the sunspot stone. The human who still knew nothing. And the human who would one day face the end of this world.

I opened my mouth slowly. “Did you think I would believe you if you said it like that?”

“You don’t have to believe me,” Yoon Taeha answered immediately. “But if the fight grows any larger here, someone will die. It seems you already know that.”

I remained silent for a moment. He was right. The fight had already broken out in that central hall. Bounty hunters, Association, Black Dog. It didn’t matter who fired first. The situation would only grow. It was a stage I had created. Chaos I had intended. A board laid to survive. Yet Yoon Taeha saw people’s deaths first within it.

“Very heroic,” I said.

Yoon Taeha’s eyebrows moved slightly. “Are you thinking of nothing but running away right now?”

“That’s why I survived this far.”

“Do you know how dangerous that item is?”

“I know more than you do.”

“Then you should go to the Association even more.”

“Who guarantees the Association is safe?”

Yoon Taeha couldn’t answer immediately. That short silence was the answer. He still wanted to believe in the Association. But he wasn’t completely certain. He was the type who wanted to believe in people more than institutions. That made him more troublesome.

Yoon Taeha spoke again. “At least it’s better than Black Dog.”

“That’s true.” I smiled faintly. “But better doesn’t mean safe.”

An explosion sounded from the central hall. Boom! Dust fell from the ceiling. Yoon Taeha reflexively turned his head. In that gap, a path appeared before my eyes. The rusted hinge beside the emergency door. A weak point that would break open with a kick even before Rat Merchant’s keys touched it. It wasn’t the Thief’s escape route. It wasn’t Persona's Black Stage either. It was a path found all at once by the calculations I had forcibly learned while surviving until now.

I spoke quietly to Rat Merchant. “Below the hinge.”

Rat Merchant moved at once. Yoon Taeha looked at me again. “Wait.” He reached out. Fast. His body couldn’t be in normal condition right after the factory incident, yet his movement was excellent. As expected of the man the world would push to the center.

I considered making a Joker Card. Considered scratching his wrist with Viper’s Fang. Considered showing him a fake exit with Persona's Black Stage. But I didn’t. Not yet. The moment I used those against Yoon Taeha, something would truly go wrong.

Instead I drew my handgun. I didn’t aim it at him. I fired at the ceiling.

Bang!

The gunshot exploded in the narrow passage. Yoon Taeha’s movement halted for the briefest instant. In that moment Rat Merchant kicked the emergency door open. Cold outside air poured in. I threw myself through the door. Seon Woo-rak followed. Rat Merchant came out last, grinding his teeth.

“I’m adding my heart’s value to the bill.”

Yoon Taeha ran toward the door. “Kang Doyun!”

I looked back. Our eyes met through the gap in the door. More bewilderment than anger filled his eyes. And behind that bewilderment was certainty. That man will chase again. Not to bite like Black Dog. Not to track scent like Hound. But to save people. That was more exhausting.

As I left through the door I said quietly, “I told you not to come.”

Yoon Taeha couldn’t answer. The emergency door closed. Clang. The lock engaged.

We emerged into the narrow alley behind the Central Shopping Mall. The dawn air stabbed my lungs. Chaos still continued behind us. Bounty hunters. Association agents. Black Dog members. And now Yoon Taeha as well. All of them had entered the same space.

It was razor-thin. Persona's Black Stage had not completely disappeared. It would still linger thinly somewhere in the central hall, slowly inflating people’s fear and suspicion. I was afraid ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of that. At the same time I thought it was useful. That frightened me more.

Rat Merchant panted, “Where are we running now? South is Black Dog, east is hunters, north is the Association.”

Seon Woo-rak added calmly, “The west is the path we just escaped from, so it will be difficult to use again.”

I looked at the dark sky beyond the redevelopment area. The city was not quiet. Sirens. Footsteps. Loudspeakers in the distance. And the sound of applause inside me.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Persona's Black Stage was not over yet. The first scene had simply ended.

I adjusted the backpack strap. “We head for the drainage channel.”

Rat Merchant’s eyes widened. “Hound will catch our scent there first, won’t he?”

“That’s why we’re going.”

“Can’t you explain a little before dragging people to hell?”

“I’ll explain while moving.”

Rat Merchant swallowed a curse and followed. Seon Woo-rak also walked carrying his black bag. I looked back at the Central Shopping Mall one last time. Beyond the shattered glass doors, in the darkness, a faint red curtain seemed to sway. It was an illusion. It had to be. Yet beyond that curtain someone was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠laughing. And in the center of my vision a black sentence rose.

I read the sentence and pressed my lips tightly together. Lead candidate. I didn’t need to ask who it referred to. Yoon Taeha had finally stepped onto my stage.