Chapter 132
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 132
The ghost stories about the Black Cloak were famous, but Ju-hyeon had never paid them much mind.
‘It’s not like I had access to any information, anyway.’
All information and traces of the “Black Cloak,” a humanoid monster that had recently appeared out of nowhere, were strictly controlled by high-ranking researchers. There was no way for Ju-hyeon, who was still just an assistant manager, to access any of it.
However, he knew enough to understand that the entity was some kind of portrait.
“…”
“What? Cat got your tongue? Or are you just stunned by my beauty?”
“…Ah… You certainly have… a lot of confidence.”
“With a face like this, shouldn’t one be overflowing with it?”
“Well…”
The conversation was flowing so naturally it felt absurd.
“…Are you really the Black Cloak?”
He was a far cry from the image Ju-hyeon had in his head.
“I heard the Black Cloak speaks in a much more rigid manner.”
“Where’s the fun in that? I adapt to my company. It’s a talent of mine, you see.”
“I don’t really understand what’s happening right now.”
“Surprisingly, you aren’t dreaming. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t treat me like some mere illusion.”
“…You certainly don’t seem… like an illusion.”
His mind was still dazed, but his heart was pounding wildly from the shock.
“Why… why are you here?”
“Because it felt like someone was calling me.”
“Well, I certainly didn’t call you…”
“I suppose not.”
The portrait, wearing a hood pulled so low that his face was completely hidden, pointed a finger below the frame.
“You look like someone who could paint much better than this.”
“…Ah.”
Where he pointed, there was a crude drawing of the Black Cloak, sloppily sketched in black crayon.
“…”
For some reason, the drawing was shimmering, its form unstable.
“…Did you come out of this drawing?”
“If I had, I would have emerged from that sheet of paper, my foolish gentleman.”
“But that drawing did summon you, didn’t it?”
“It allowed me to pinpoint this location. And thanks to that, I met you.”
“Your way of speaking is… all over the place.”
“I find it hard to stay still for even a single moment.”
“It’s just, you’re so different from the image of the Black Cloak I’ve heard about…”
“Hmm.”
Though his face was hidden in the shadow of his hood, he somehow seemed displeased.
“This line of conversation is terribly boring.”
“…”
Only then did a sudden sense of crisis wash over Ju-hyeon.
“…I’m sorry.”
Whatever this entity’s true identity was, there was nothing to be gained by provoking its hostility.
He couldn’t even remember that just a moment ago, he had been agonizing over whether to make a wish to the Evil God, Sankalut. His mind was failing to function, overwhelmed by the sheer absurdity of the situation.
Ju-hyeon decided to apologize first.
“If I offended you in any way… uh…”
“Are you going to offer me a sacrifice, then?”
“I don’t even know who you are. Offering a sacrifice right off the bat seems a bit much, don’t you think…?”
“Excellent. Prudence is a fine virtue for a human.”
“But really, why are you here?”
“I’m quite sure I already told you.”
“No one called you.”
“No one called me, you say.”
A brief silence fell. The portrait gently waved his hand.
“You called me, did you not?”
“…”
Unlike before, his voice was now gentle and low.
“And so, I came.”
“…”
“Because you called upon an Evil God.”
And just like that, his tone became as flat and cold as a corpse.
“I am looking for a friend to help me adapt.”
“…A friend…”
Did that “adaptation” refer to integrating into human society?
Among the gods, Evil Gods were known to be exceptionally interested in humans. It was completely unexpected, but if the “Black Cloak” was indeed a type of Evil God, then him suddenly appearing and striking up a conversation made a strange sort of sense.
‘No, actually, it doesn’t.’
Do Evil Gods usually just show up out of nowhere like this?
“…I, I… was trying to summon… a different… Evil God.”
“No matter which entity you intended to summon, there would be no better option than me.”
“Uh…”
It was an incredibly arrogant statement, but rather than feeling resentful, Ju-hyeon felt only fear and anxiety.
‘His presence is growing heavier.’
He was beginning to understand why the entity’s way of speaking was fluctuating. Most beings of such immense, mysterious status couldn’t conform to human standards, so many things about them seemed strange.
‘Perhaps he’s in the middle of adapting, just as he said.’
However, the pressure he hadn’t felt at first was gradually intensifying—a dangerous sign.
‘Does his true nature reveal itself more clearly the closer he gets to that blunt tone?’
When he spoke with that first, playfully cruel tone, it was merely absurd. But when his voice took on a reverent weight, and even more so now with this mechanical cadence, his true status felt overwhelmingly clear.
“…”
“You seem confused.”
“…A little, yes.”
“How may I help you?”
“Could you… speak a bit more casually…?”
“Aha.”
His tone pitched up instantly.
“I see you prefer a lack of formality.”
“…Yes, this is much more comfortable.”
At the same time, the suffocating pressure eased.
‘…Is his personality actually shifting?’
For a moment, the thought of reporting this new information about the “Black Cloak” crossed his mind, but it quickly faded. It was ridiculous to still be bound by professional habits when he was holding the Mark of the Evil God.
Watching Ju-hyeon’s reaction, the portrait asked, “Why did you call an Evil God?”
“…That’s surprising. I thought a god would know without me having to say it.”
“That would be an invasion of privacy.”
“…”
“And right now, I am a human.”
“…Ah, right.”
It wasn’t very convincing coming from an entity that had popped out of a picture frame, but Ju-hyeon could tell the being was trying its best to accommodate human standards. The proof was that despite claiming to be an Evil God, there had been no reports of witnesses whose brains had exploded upon seeing the Black Cloak.
If he hadn’t been so considerate, there would have been countless victims just from being looked at. A god could be a walking disaster simply by being perceived.
“Why did I want to call an Evil God, you ask…” Ju-hyeon muttered, then fell silent.
“…”
Well…
“…I don’t really know.”
“You have no talent for revenge.”
“So you do know everything about my situation.”
“I merely followed the scent of wrath.”
“Of course you did…”
There was no way an Evil God wouldn’t know the circumstances of a mere human. His banter about an “invasion of privacy” must have been some kind of disguise or a show of consideration.
‘No, would an Evil God ever show consideration?’
Then was it an imitation of a human, an attempt to appear as friendly as possible? Most Evil Gods were cunning and skilled at worming their way into human hearts; such an imitation would be child’s play.
If anything, that thought made him feel more at ease.
“I trusted people.”
“What kind of people?”
“I trusted everyone.”
Ju-hyeon had been trying to summon Sankalut blindly, without even having a wish prepared. He had simply wanted to vent his inexplicable impulse, even through such a foolish method.
So, there was no harm in playing along with this other Evil God. If anything, the Black Cloak his family used to talk about felt more familiar, so Ju-hyeon continued.
“I trusted my family, I trusted my friends, and I trusted my colleagues.”
“Are you the type to be overflowing with trust?”
“I thought I was being cautious in my own way… but it’s embarrassing that it ended up like this.”
“What ended up like what?”
“Some of my people died because of my foolishness, some betrayed me, and the rest abandoned me.”
“That is terribly sad.”
“I was so angry. So angry that I wanted to ruin everything, but I don’t even know how to begin.”
“And so you called an Evil God?”
“I thought if I just called one, something might get better. That maybe I could ruin something. So I put my skills to use. I made it quite well, too.”
No matter how easy Evil Gods were to summon, the fact that he had crafted the Mark so quickly meant he was undoubtedly talented. Ju-hyeon found himself mocking and admiring his own talent in this absurd situation.
“I wanted to do good.”
He didn’t care about honor.
“Just… anything…”
“I see.”
“I wanted to make a better world.”
“What a beautiful heart.”
“…That would have been enough…”
He had walked this path knowing it would be hard, but it was harder than he could have ever imagined.
“Isn’t this too much?” he complained, a grievance he could only voice to an Evil God. “I know that having good intentions doesn’t guarantee good results. I knew I couldn’t struggle alone, so I gathered family, friends, and colleagues… but they all died, betrayed me, or left.”
“…”
“Look at this. It’s a Mark that can summon Sankalut. If I hold this, the Evil God can gaze upon me more easily. I’m using the knowledge I learned at the Association’s Research Institute for this. I even made it too well. And then, I tried to summon an Evil God when I didn’t even have a wish to make.”
Truly.
“It’s the worst.”
The situation, and himself.
“It couldn’t possibly be worse than this…”
“Do you feel better now that you’ve said it all?”
“…Black Cloak, are you an Evil God?”
“Once, quite a few people called me that. Not anymore.”
“I know you were sighted in Korea quite recently.”
“That was before I was here.”
“I see. That makes sense.”
“Just like your situation.”
“…”
“What do you want?”
It was like a devil’s whisper, demanding a wicked price.
Whether the Black Cloak was truly an Evil God or something similar, whether he was a god or a monster—nothing was certain, but…
There was no reason not to answer.
“…A hell where people die worthless deaths, lose precious loved ones for no reason, and live in fear in villages that collapse helplessly under endless disasters…”
A world where the terrible karma created by humans, monsters, and nature indiscriminately ruins everyone, good and evil alike, making it impossible for anyone to find happiness or peace.
“I wish such tragedies would not be repeated.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t have the strength to watch that kind of thing anymore.”
“Hmm.”
“I don’t want to see it.”
I really tried so hard.
The cruelty of humans and monsters mixed together, and the world continued to create atrocities that were hard to even look at.
“Can you grant my wish?”
To that, the Black Cloak replied.
“? No?”
“…”
Ju-hyeon silently raised his head and stared at the Black Cloak.
“…Wasn’t this the part where you offer a deal, saying you’ll grant my wish?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t make deals with the weak of mind and body. A deal? What a dangerous thing to say.”
“Isn’t it usually more profitable to deal with someone weak of mind and body? And can an Evil God even say something like that?”
“Above all, gods are far more trivial and incompetent than you think.”
The Black Cloak asked as if he found the whole idea pathetic.
“Surely you weren’t thinking of wishing for world peace or something?”
“…I figured it wouldn’t work, but still, aren’t you being a little too honest?”
“Look here, gentleman. I just came to find a friend to exchange letters with. I’m sorry, but you’d better give up on your dream of world peace.”
“I mean, I didn’t wish for world peace, I just wanted to contribute something…”
“Isn’t that the same thing in the end?”
“…I can’t say it isn’t.”
No, wait.
“…A friend to exchange letters with? You mean… a pen pal?”
“Will you do it? I can write in the prettiest handwriting possible.”
“I don’t even know why you need something like that… but if I do, what are the pros and cons for me?”
“The pro is that you won’t starve in the future. The con is that you might turn into a pig if you’re not careful.”
“They sound so similar I can’t tell which is the pro and which is the con.”
“How prickly. You seem like the type to have many friends, why not let me join?”
“There are things you can join and things you can’t…”
More importantly…
“…Were you serious when you asked if I was hungry earlier?”
“I asked because you looked like you were about to detonate a nuke in this little country called Korea.”
“You even know about nukes? No, but why did you ask if I was hungry? That doesn’t explain anything.”
“Usually, people who try to cause trouble without thinking are just hungry.”
“I don’t think that’s normal at all.”
“You could call it a human malfunction that occurs when the stomach isn’t full.”
“I think you learned about humans wrong. What does causing trouble have to do with having a full stomach…?”
“So I’m asking.”
Ju-hyeon could feel the portrait smiling from beneath the shadow of the cloak.
“Are you not hungry?”
“…”
He was an Evil God who was persistent in the strangest ways, constantly asking if he was hungry.
‘…What is his intention? Since he’s an Evil God, this can’t be simple divine mercy. He must want something…’
Ju-hyeon tried to think calmly.
“…”
He tried, but it was hard to expect his usual rationality from someone who hadn’t eaten or slept properly in days.
Half swept away by the situation, half enchanted by that sweet voice, Ju-hyeon didn’t resist. He gave in.
“…I think I might be.”
Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. What would happen if one wished for world peace from an Evil God?
In this unreal state, indistinguishable from a dream, Ju-hyeon briefly indulged in the meaningless, worthless delusion.
* * *
The Black Cloak reached out his hand.
Ju-hyeon was invited to the cabin.