The Killer's Scent
“Kid! What the hell are you planning to buy that's got you glued to this spot for days? You're scaring off customers—why don't you take your creepy ass somewhere else?”
“Sorry. Just a bit longer.”
Levin didn't budge despite the merchant's scolding, stubbornly holding his ground.
He was parked right in front of a junk shop.
Not your average junk shop, though.
This one sold items made from monster corpses.
He'd been camped out there for days now.
No wonder the owner was chewing him out.
Still, Levin persisted.
He'd been beaten and chased off multiple times, but he always came back.
“Ugh! That leech-like little shit!”
The shop owner glared at him like he wanted to murder him, then stormed back inside.
Levin leaned against the wall and muttered to himself.
“Another bust today? Yeah, this ain't easy.”
He closed his eyes for a moment.
He hadn't come to Dokkaebi Market just to gawk at passersby.
The bastard definitely bought something here.
Levin had been tracking the murderer who killed his mom and little sister.
The guy had racked up a few more kills since then. And like he was mocking Levin's pursuit, he'd gone completely dark.
Whenever Levin, exhausted from the chase, took even a short break, the killer struck again like he'd been waiting.
Levin figured the guy might have caught on to his tail. Nothing else explained the pattern.
In the end, he'd given up directly hunting the murderer. But that didn't mean he'd quit the chase entirely.
He'd just changed tactics.
The stuff he uses isn't mass-produced crap. It's all made from special materials.
Exhibit A: the killer's knife.
That blade was custom-made to slice through flesh efficiently and drain blood with ease.
Levin had traced it via the cuts left on the bodies, but he hadn't found a single matching knife—not even close.
The murderer's blade was that unique.
But Levin wasn't fixated on its shape.
It was the properties.
The blood of his victims was unnaturally sticky. The viscosity was off the charts.
Levin suspected exposure to intense heat.
Either the killer was deliberately superheating the blood, or one of his tools radiated high temperatures.
What if that knife of his is made from special materials that generate heat?
That was why Levin was glued to this spot.
There were plenty of heat-emitting materials out there.
Flame lizard bones, firestones, blaze eagle feathers, flame golem remnants—the works.
But you couldn't find that stuff in ordinary shops.
Especially not in the slums.
Outside Neo Seoul, the only place was Dokkaebi Market.
So Levin was betting the killer had come here—specifically to this junk shop.
After all those kills, the blade's gotta be chipped.
Human bodies might seem fragile, but they're tough as hell—especially the bones. They could ruin a blade quick.
No matter how special the materials, that much use would wear it down.
To repair it, he'd need supplies from here.
No telling when—or if—the killer would show.
Maybe never.
But Levin was prepared to wait forever.
He had nothing else left.
Patience is my strong suit anyway.
He stuck around the shop for days more.
Dozens of customers came and went.
They bought all sorts: useless scraps, jaw-dropping hauls of pricey stuff.
Levin eyed every buyer closely. None raised red flags.
Then his gaze sharpened.
He was tracking a man who'd just entered the shop.
Black robe, hood pulled low—face hidden.
But as he passed, a thick stench of blood slammed into Levin's nose.
Levin's face hardened.
First time he'd smelled anything that potent.
It nearly drove his reason away.
He clenched his fists without realizing.
It's him. Has to be.
No hard proof.
But the moment he saw the guy, Levin knew.
His instincts screamed it.
Levin trusted his gut.
Not yet. Move too soon, and I'll spook him.
He didn't follow inside. Just waited doggedly for the man to emerge.
It took a while.
He'd clearly bought a haul, but he stepped out empty-handed.
Subspace item?
Those were rare as hell.
Even in Neo Seoul, few Awakeners had one.
If the black-robed man packed one, he wasn't some nobody.
“Hoo!”
Levin waited till the guy was well clear, then stood.
His body ached from the long sit, but he ignored it and tailed the man.
The black-robed figure was paranoid cautious.
Never let his guard down.
Walked casual, but his senses were wide open.
About ten meters?
Levin marveled at how he could tell.
Probably his sharpened senses post-awakening.
He kept at least ten meters back.
The man delved deeper into the alleys.
Levin was certain.
He's hunting tonight.
His heart pounded wildly.
He forced it calm.
Then the black-robed man stopped dead.
Levin froze too.
The man turned, staring right at him.
Their eyes met.
He spoke.
“What are you? Trailing me from Dokkaebi Market?”
“How? I was outside your range.”
Levin blurted in shock.
“My detection's wider and denser than you think, kid!”
“Kuh!”
“Now, tell me why you're following me.”
The man's cold gaze sent chills down Levin's spine.
Eyes that pierced everything, brimming with feral hostility.
Like a black panther's.
Levin swallowed dryly.
The man's lips curved under the deep hood.
“Tell the truth, or I'll tear you apart.”
“It's you, right? The sick fuck who carves people into Hydra shapes.”
“Sick fuck? You philistine who can't appreciate art. This is why I hate the slums. Full of brain-dead scavengers too busy surviving to learn shit. No wonder you can't grasp true art.”
“Ripping people apart is art? Fine, let's make some.”
Levin snapped, rage boiling over.
The man's smile deepened at the outburst.
“Getting that emotional? You're no ordinary tail. One of my victims family?”
“Damn right, you bastard!”
Levin roared and charged.
His form blurred ghostly.
He'd activated his awakening ability: ghostification.
The black-robed man gaped at the translucent figure radiating purple energy.
He'd seen plenty of Awakeners, but nothing like this.
“Heh heh! You'll be fun to cut. Wonder what slicing a ghost feels like?”
Shiak!
A grotesque dagger shot from his sleeve.
Blade like sword and saw fused, trailing barely visible silver wire.
He flicked his fingers.
The dagger on its wire pierced Levin.
Would've killed a normal human or Awakener outright.
But ghostified Levin took zero damage.
“Die!”
Levin unleashed massive electric energy.
Bzzt-crack!
It swept the area like a storm.
The black-robed man couldn't dodge.
His robe shredded, revealing his face.
“Grah!”
Long, lizard-like face, slit eyes. Most striking: crude scars crisscrossing it, stitched like a rag doll. Hideous.
“You dare!”
He flew into a rage.
Never expected ghostification plus lightning.
It was chain lightning, usable only by lightning-type magic Awakeners.
A hair off, and he'd be dead.
His fury was terrifying.
“Chaa!”
He swung the wire-bound dagger.
Levin sneered.
“That shit won't work. You're slow on the uptake, old man.”
“Brat! That's why you're gonna die.”
“What?”
White lightning flashed along the wire.
Electricity from the man's hand.
Levin realized: prosthetic arm, mechanical.
It generated intense current like his own.
Bzzt-crack! Boom!
Lightning clashed, birthing an energy storm.
It leveled part of the slums.
＊＊＊
“What the—?”
Briel jolted upright at the massive tremor.
The building shook like an earthquake.
Her workbench experiments rattled.
Luckily, it passed quick.
She scanned for Zeon.
He was already up, peering out the window.
A white light faded in the distance—Zeon caught it.
Briel asked.
“What's going on?”
“Sounds like a fight.”
“This damn slum. Never a quiet night. Dongdaemun? Somewhere else?”
“Shinchon.”
“Huh? That close?”
Then—
Boom!
Another explosion, white lightning sweeping the slums.
Zeon's windows rattled like they might shatter.
“Who the fuck fights in the dead of night?!”
Fuming, Briel yanked her conical hat low and fumed.
Zeon said calmly.
“It's Levin.”
“What?”
“Levin's fighting.”
High buildings blocked the view.
But that intense signature energy wave? Unmistakably Levin's.
“Levin's really scrapping? He found the killer?”
“Time to check.”
Zeon threw open the window.
Thick sandwind whipped his face.
He leaped into it without hesitation.
Briel yelled, jumping after.
“Wait up—I'm coming too!”