Chapter 365
Chapter 365
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 365
Chapter Title: Terror (2)
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Something emanating from far away made my brow furrow involuntarily.
It was a frenzy of intense emotions triggered by an unspecified multitude, and the turbulent currents of karma roiling under its influence.
'This is...'
And soon enough, I pinpointed the source.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Breaking News! Indiscriminate bomb terror attacks are occurring across Seoul! The government... -BOOM!—!
I'd flipped on the TV just in case, and the news anchor's urgent report cut off mid-sentence at the sudden explosion.
The raw blast—likely near the station—shook the feed, making the anchor flinch, her pupils trembling like there was an earthquake.
Bzzz— bzzz—
Right on cue, my work smartphone lit up with a barrage of email alerts.
-Jin Soran: Lord! Massive bomb terror near the Blood Alliance branch and Howard Industries stores...
-Hans's Slave No. 1: Hahoe Mask-nim! Looks like the Reverse Heaven Society did it! Ability Management Bureau is on high alert...
Jin Soran, managing Korea's vampires as Heinz 2nd's proxy, and even An Seongjin, the black mage Hans had taken in.
Everyone was frantic with the sudden crisis, yet they were still scrambling to report in.
And even...
-Hey you bastard don't come out stay inside!
A single messy text from Kang Taesan, his one true friend, dripping with desperate urgency.
With the situation crystal clear, I closed my eyes on the spot and accelerated my thoughts.
Massive bomb terror erupting across Seoul.
The picture was obvious.
'Yeah, only the Reverse Heaven Society could pull something like this.'
Korea's underworld was firmly under the Blood Alliance's thumb.
No smuggling outfit was exempt, and sneaking weapons like that past their eyes was next to impossible.
Of course, in a world rife with abilities, nothing was ever 100%...
'But orchestrating something this big? Not just anyone could. Things were too quiet lately—I thought they'd fully pulled out of Korea.'
Despite relentless purges chopping off their tails, they'd hunkered down till the end.
Preparing for a stunt like this, no less.
"The nerve."
A grim mutter slipped through my clenched teeth, so subconscious I only noticed after hearing it myself.
I didn't care about the rest of Earth—this Korea was solidly my turf.
They knew it too.
Pulling this stunt out in the open? It was a direct challenge to me.
"Hoo...".
I took a deep breath, forcing calm.
An inexplicable disgust boiled inside me, over the top.
Thank goodness for Clear Mirror Still Water working overtime; otherwise, it'd take way longer to rein it in.
'Focus on response first.'
Priority one: handle the crisis.
Botch this, and Korea's hard-won stability goes down the drain.
I'd vent this rage by exterminating them thoroughly.
'Can't pull Hans right now.'
Of all times, the Strong Return Realm was at a boiling point.
Martial Alliance forces massing near Beijing—war could erupt any second.
If Hans stepped away mid-coordination and something blew up, it'd be chaos.
'Not that the real Hans needs to show.'
Perfect—I had just the skill for this.
I activated it without hesitation.
Shhh—
The room's temperature plunged.
Light dimmed as creeping darkness claimed it.
Taut skin and tough muscles melted away, leaving bony frame.
Pulsing heart supplying blood turned to one scattering death; eye focus unbound, replaced by senses of the dead.
A bizarre, alien omnipotence flooded my body.
I burst out laughing unwittingly.
⚡ SKILL ACTIVATED ⚡ Entity Projection (Avatar overlaid onto host)
[Kekeke— Kuhahaha!]
Entity Projection draped the Avatar's existence over me.
Thus, I became Hans, the Demon King invading the Strong Return Realm.
I shrugged off the vanished chimera robes, loose over the martial garb, donned a robe, and secured the Hahoe Mask to the skull.
[Kuh— The ratlings skulking in their holes have finally crawled out, eh.]
Howard Industries' sudden moves must've irked them.
Their pent-up patience finally snapped.
Sure, guesswork didn't reveal their bold backing, but...
[Let's see what you're scheming—]
Didn't matter to me.
[—by peering into your skulls.]
Just capture and check myself.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ A young man clutching a smartphone on a selfie stick, action cam strapped to his body, panted as he sprinted.
"Huff, heuk... What the hell is going on?!"
Hong Dushik, the internet streamer who'd filmed the Gold Dragon up close.
That shot spiked his viewers overnight; hooked on the thrill, he roamed outdoors chasing scoops.
His drug high faded, viewers dipped—partly why.
Fame was fleeting; rehashing that tale turned thin as gruel, exposing his limits.
But quitting? No way.
He splurged on an action cam, prowling as "hidden gem eateries" cover, camera ready at any hint of action.
Hoping for a dragon-like breakout scoop.
'Damn, who am I kidding? Not a reporter! Should've stayed home gaming.'
First boom? He joyfully bolted toward it—chance at last!
Korea: top-tier safety globally.
Whatever, authorities'd handle it quick, he figured...
Reality hit harder.
Soaring flames, acrid smoke.
Crashing buildings, deadly debris.
Wailing survivors, stampeding crowds in panic.
One slip, and you're dead—stay sharp.
'Guardians doing nothing?! Firefighters, cops?'
He didn't know: this wasn't just bombs.
Pre-terror flood of tips—"terror warnings"—to stations and cops.
Too many; real mixed with fakes.
Paralyzed hotlines, scene control, bomb defusal, wild goose chases.
Even off-duty yanked in, still short-staffed chaos.
'Huh? That guy?'
Fleeing the mob, his eyes caught an elderly man blocking the street, dazed.
Not weird in this mess, but unease glued his gaze.
"Uh, hey! Th-that!"
He halted, spotting the unease's source.
Flick!
Man lit his lighter, flame jumping to clutched papers.
Blazing bundle dropped limply—
Whoosh—
—igniting pre-spread oil trails, fire racing everywhere.
"Kyaaak!"
"What the—?! Hey, what're you doing?! Crazy?!"
"Don't push! Back up! Back up!"
Flames surged ahead; fleeing crowd froze.
Pure hell around, but Hong ignored it—eyes tracking the fire.
Whoosh—
Blaze sped on.
Ending at—
"Uwaaa! Duck!"
A mid-size tanker hauling oil.
He screamed, yanking nearby folks down.
No guarantee prone saves from point-blank blast, but better than standing.
Then—
BOOM!—!
Crash!—!
Earth-shattering roar shattered every window.
'Told ya—should've gamed at home.'
Hong squeezed eyes shut, bracing for heat.
Burns hurt bad, right?
Skin loss percentage kills?
Quick death beats agony?
Random thoughts swirled.
Time slows at death?
Felt like seconds passed—no heat, no sound.
'Even... chilly?'
Dead before feeling it?
As he sensed wrongness—
[Hmm. This is...]
An otherworldly voice pierced ear to brain.
Chilling timbre evoking grim reaper.
'Yep, dead.'
Tension drained.
Despair and resignation; he bit his lip.
Deep breath, slow peek up.
Filming afterlife? Mega scoop—
"Ah."
Unreal sight vaporized whimsy.
It was—
A world frozen still.
Not true time-stop, but no other words fit.
Bursting flames iced over; shards and rubble hung midair.
Sweltering hell turned breath-seeing cold.
Terror-struck folk halted, staring blankly.
As if time itself froze.
Hong gawked too, gaze drifting up.
Pulled by strange pull.
There, ten meters high—
'He' stood.
Jet-black robe, hooded; eerie grin on mask within.
Freezing ghostfire from eyeholes, icy mist billowing.
Evil incarnate in human form.
'Hahoe Mask...?'
Korea's famed dark hero.
Sight jumpstarted his brain.
Reaper-like, but real—not job-switched to psychopomp.
So maybe he wasn't dead...
[...Brainwashing, as expected.]
Hahoe Mask, floating the perp nearby for inspection, murmured low.
Unfocused pupils, drooling mouth.
His soul via Eyes of the Abyss? Wrecked.
'They really went all-in.'
Trigger-type brainwashing, not sustained control—fired on condition.
Trace via link? Target untraceable.
Erased traces crushed victim's soul.
Only scraps: brainwasher's face, presumed meet spot.
Clearly aimed at me.
'Wanna throw down?'
Ghostfire flared from curved eye-slits.
Already pissed; this twisted his guts.
No real guts, though.
'Challenge accepted—full force.'
And he had more than personal power.
Intent poured via mind to one.
[Andrew Weaver, get to work.]
-Gasp! Y-yes, sir?
To the tracking/info ace with Trajectory Observation.
Focus here means less disaster aid, but solutions abound.
He wasn't alone.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Help! Save us!"
"Cough cough, over here... please...!"
Roof-trapped survivors screamed amid blaze.
Death's red tongue licked closer.
Suddenly—
Whoosh— fwoom—
No warning; inferno shrank rapidly.
Black smoke whisked away by fresh breeze, superheated air cooled with mist.
"Save... Huh?"
"Wha...?"
Screams to blinks—abrupt shift.
Hell to heaven; dazed glances swapped as similar oddities multiplied elsewhere.
'Ugh... such a hassle... hard to breathe... wanna wrap up and go home...'
Following the limp, floating motorcycle-helmet freak.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ And elsewhere.
"It's Iron Man!"
"Nonsense... that's real?"
"But that hand thing... Spider-Man?"
A mysterious hero in futuristic metal armor zipped about.
Black threads from right hand snagging peril-trapped folk to safety.
'Neither.'
He sighed, smacking lips.
Design tweaked distinct, yet minds lumped 'em.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙ Disaster Relief System activated. Hacking nearby CCTV to guide optimal rescue paths by priority. 92m ahead: Life signs under collapsed debris. 6 serious, 8 minor. Survivor positions marked. Emergency: 151m at 2 o'clock. Flames nearing gas line. Explosion risk 25%—rises to 100% in 23s if ignored. Trivial now.
'Didn't expect this from it. Mechanical civ artifact—makes sense.'
Guided by Mechanical Eye: Callikas, Hesperon accelerated.
Debuting unexpectedly on Earth, etching an unforgettable impression.