Chapter 77
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 77
Chapter Title: The Night the Fixer Sleeps
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Fixers dive into a deep, unbreakable sleep on the night after wrapping up a major case, no matter who tries to wake them.
This was the time when the exhausted Fixer recovered both body and mind—and also when he was at his most vulnerable.
Baek Sowol spent those nights wide awake.
She believed that compensating for her husband's weaknesses during this time was the proper way to support him.
"Really. Sleeping so soundly, oblivious to the world... How cute."
Baek Sowol carefully slipped out of the ring and stroked the Fixer's head.
She had snuck into his arms countless times before without him stirring, so she knew he wouldn't wake easily.
"If only you were this docile all the time..."
The Fixer minimized physical contact with Baek Sowol unless he was lost in sleep.
This was his way of keeping her affection in check, but she interpreted it differently.
"It must be hard for you to hold back, my lord. You're still in your prime, after all. You're cultivating your path, so I mustn't get in the way."
Baek Sowol thought the Fixer refrained from touching her because he was devoted to his spiritual cultivation. In truth, it was to avoid raising her affection further, but she saw it as him tempering his mind.
"Still, when you're asleep, a little touch shouldn't hurt, right?"
Having rationalized it to herself, Baek Sowol picked up the Breath of Mukhae and Silence of Choto that the Fixer had set aside.
-Huh? What are you doing...?
Haeyul inside the Breath of Mukhae reacted immediately, but Baek Sowol shoved him into the freezer as if she hadn't heard a thing.
"Good night, Ghost King."
The freezer door shut with her farewell.
For Haeyul, who preferred the cold, it wasn't a bad spot at all. But knowing Baek Sowol was monopolizing the Fixer again that night irked him anyway.
Haeyul was surprisingly jealous. Not romantic jealousy, but more like a puppy's possessive attachment to its owner.
-Just you wait... Someday, I'll take that spot right beside him...
Haeyul recalled the day at the Mujin inn when he'd boldly claimed the spot next to the Fixer.
He still remembered the twisted expression on Baek Sowol's face from behind.
The thought of landing a solid blow on her had him chuckling inwardly back then. It was still amusing.
-I'll get revenge next time... Yawwwn.
An opportunity to one-up Baek Sowol would come eventually.
For now, he'd dream of that day while dozing off in the freezer.
The freezer was the perfect temperature for Haeyul to sleep.
"As for Lady Hongran..."
Having easily dealt with one disaster, Baek Sowol took the Silence of Choto to a corner of the office.
There sat the box where she usually kept it—a box the Fixer paid no mind to. Inside were an electric heater and various portable warming devices.
Click.
Baek Sowol turned on the heater, warmed the box, and placed the Silence of Choto on a blanket inside.
-Mmm...
She patted it gently, and a contented sigh came from within.
Hongran seemed to be having sweet dreams, as usual.
"The Ghost King sleeps soundly—lucky him. Sweet dreams."
True to form for the Ghost King, who only woke if the Fixer set himself ablaze in a frenzy, Hongran slept deeply—deeper still in warm air. She'd even grumble at Baek Sowol in the morning while secretly appreciating the cozy bed.
She was surprisingly easy to handle.
"Now... it's just us, my lord."
All obstacles cleared.
Baek Sowol tottered eagerly to the Fixer's side, where he slept motionless.
This was her time now.
She could enjoy herself with the unrousable Fixer until dawn, then slip under the covers perfectly.
Thud!
"Mm...?"
Baek Sowol, ear pressed to the Fixer's chest savoring his slow heartbeat, scowled at the sudden noise outside.
It was 3 a.m.—prime time for relishing his steady, anchoring pulse.
The one moment she could immerse fully in her serene lord, entrusted wholly to her...
And now this interruption to her second-most precious duty after tending him.
Baek Sowol's calm facade cracked.
"Who is it?"
Two months of diligent "work" had cleared the area after 2 a.m.—human or anomaly alike. The neighborhood was especially quiet at night.
Daring to make noise in the dead of night?
Not a local, surely.
"Something must've shown up... I'll be right back, my lord. Sleep well, no worries."
Baek Sowol kissed his forehead and rose.
The noise persisted.
For her, who claimed full responsibility for his sleep environment, this was unforgivable.
Even in deep slumber, repeated noise would wake him eventually.
"Who's disturbing my lord's sleep...?"
She quietly shut the office door and stepped outside.
A moonless night, clouds veiling the sky—darker than usual.
Streetlights flickered unnaturally as she emerged. Cats mid-hunt fled over fences in dread.
Moths drawn to light, stray spirits wandering the night—all scattered from the White-Faced Bride.
They knew: on moonless nights when the Fixer slumbered deeply, crossing her path meant no dawn for them.
-Ah... Ahaha... Am I... pretty...?
A chilling voice echoed from a dark alley.
Baek Sowol strode toward the source unhesitatingly. There: an unconscious woman, a man soiled in fear, and a grinning anomaly with jaws agape toward them.
"Hm...?"
The anomaly, toying with young spirit users, slowly turned at the presence behind it.
A horrific woman with a gaping maw and writhing tongue smiled at Baek Sowol.
"How... am I...? Pretty...? Or are you... scared of me too?"
Certain anomalies surged in the 21st century.
Mostly urban legend spawn, proliferating post-internet.
To Baek Sowol, of late Joseon pedigree with deep roots, the "Red Mask" with its slit grin was rootless trash.
And not even Korean origin.
Why was this island nation's pest lording it here?
It grated on her.
Time for proper punishment.
"Yes, you asked if you're pretty."
"Huh...? Aren't you... afraid of me...?"
"Not at all. No, you are pretty. Too pretty—that's the problem."
The anomaly, mistaking the shadow for human, felt a shiver.
The classic Red Mask ranked as disaster-class: high casualty potential, challenging even skilled spirit users. Most humans froze in terror at sight.
"Wait... You're not... human...?"
"Do I still look human to you?"
At Baek Sowol's question, the Red Mask dropped its scissors and backed away in fright.
She had to flee—but the alley trapped her now.
The White-Faced Bride had drawn her in.
"Don't run. Come here. Look at me."
"N-no... I was wrong... I'll leave... Please... I won't come back to your hunting ground..."
"Tsk. Stop crying and look at me."
Baek Sowol's face twisted grotesquely, eyes hollowing into a nightmarish visage.
A hideous mug no one could call pretty, even politely.
"Well? Am I... not pretty too?"
The White-Faced Bride advanced on the disaster-class anomaly with a trauma-inducing face.
Not just her face: her human guise warped into monstrous form, an unnaturally long arm snatching the retreating Red Mask's throat.
"Gack..."
"Can't answer? Guess I can't let you live. You're too pretty to spare."
"N-no... I'm not... pretty... Please..."
When hunting grounds overlap, anomalies clash over territory.
The stronger prevails; the weak gets devoured—night's law.
Thus, they flee from superiors.
Best to evade annihilation.
Here, the White-Faced Bride's viciousness shone.
She could masquerade as human.
Without her "scary face," she passed for mortal at a glance.
Her evolution favored that.
To clueless anomalies ignorant of ranks—or the bureau's system—she was a silent killer, a calamity in human skin.
"P-pleeease..."
"Should've stayed out of the neighborhood. A pretty face like yours makes me jealous."
Facing inevitable defeat in matchup and caliber, the slit-mouthed woman begged—but the White-Faced Bride showed no mercy.
"Kahak!?"
Baek Sowol gripped the thrashing "slit-mouthed woman's" upper and lower jaws, prying them apart meticulously.
Wider. Far too wide to ever close!
Snap-crunch!
Bone and flesh tore free; the Red Mask's lower jaw ripped clean off.
The disaster-class anomaly, untouchable by average spirit users, died without resistance.
The White-Faced Bride, having literally torn the Red Mask apart, passed its dissolving remains and approached the fainted spirit users.
She'd reverted to human-like form.
"When the sun sets, go home. Wandering gets you hurt..."
Baek Sowol dragged the misguided pair by their collars to a lit street and dumped them in plain view.
Tougher than civilians, spirit users would survive—and someone would call the cops.
-...Whoa!?
-We bowed out today...
Some gawked curiously at the hanbok-clad woman; others fled in terror.
The latter: stray spirits mingling with humans, scattering at her appearance.
The White-Faced Bride was infamous locally. Unlike the newcomer slit-mouth, longtime residents knew and avoided her.
Ignorant intruders making night noise? She appeared from behind and shredded them.
Many had perished thus.
Since Baek Sowol settled here two months ago, disaster-class or higher anomalies vanished entirely.
Curious probes and squatters met the same fate—all shredded.
Spirit or anomaly?
The enigma ignored those harming no humans.
Stay hidden until she left for "that building" after her stroll.
Anomalies held their breath.
To evade the calamity.
Must've slept deeply.
A really pleasant dream.
Nothing special plot-wise, but cozy and warm.
I vaguely knew it was a dream, but didn't want to wake.
-Ring ring.
Of course, the phone rang at the best part.
Right when I clutched that soft marshmallow...
"Who's calling this early..."
Blearily checking my phone, I spotted Sowol far off, arms over her chest, back turned, trembling.
"What're you doing over there?"
"Eek!? N-nothing!"
"...?"
What's with her this morning?
No clue.
"Y-yes... Hello. Fixer Lee Do-hyun speaking."
In my half-asleep daze, a woman's syrupy voice spouted obvious cult spiel.
-We're calling to share good news, chosen one.
I hung up immediately.
Cult solicitation at dawn? Rough start.
-Ring ring.
"What now."
The same number called back.
I ended it without answering and blocked it.
-Ring ring ring.
-Greetings! We're calling to share good news...
"...?"
Another number, same cult pitch.
I hung up and blocked again.
-Ring ring ring.
"..."
An anomaly? Calling from new numbers?
Not your standard cult.
Curious what it wanted, I let this one ring out.
-We'll share good news, chosen one.
"Yes. Go ahead. Let's hear it."
What were they after?
Waiting silently, the woman's voice crackled with static.
"The fourth... is still not clo...sed. When the hand turns back... ...... Break the ...... It went there. ...... Do it. ...... Upside down. Upside down. Upsi..."
Click. Beep. Beep.
It cut off.
What was that? Actual "good news"?
Seemed like a vital message for me, but static garbled it.
New scam to bait callbacks? Or a genuine warning?
Didn't feel like ordinary cult or phishing.
Suspicious, I tried redialing—but no recent call log. No recording either, despite auto-on.
Blocked numbers vanished too.
No normal trace. I forcibly recalled the number from my high Intelligence glimpse.
Dialed it...
-The number you have dialed is no longer in service.
Just automated tone.
"My lord, what was it? Prank call?"
"No, not a prank. Definitely trying to warn me something. But too much static."
What a morning.
That call needs investigating.