Supervisor Park

Rumors outran wildfire.

And nowhere faster than here in Abyss, a place packed with idle inmates who ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had nothing better to do than run their mouths.

Of course, nine-tenths of it was pure garbage.

But the public has always preferred a juicy tabloid scrap over the truth.

"M-make way! Coming through!"

"Good afternoon, Handler Kang! Have you eaten, sir!"

The moment I stepped into the corridor, the Red Sea parted.

The same guys who'd been snickering hey, rookie only yesterday couldn't even meet my eyes now — they were folding themselves into ninety-degree bows. Even the ugly tattooed tank-bros plastered themselves against the wall at full attention.

Okay. This feels weird.

I gave a casual little nod, playing it cool.

The inmates whispered among themselves like they'd just witnessed a miracle.

"Did you see that? He just looked at me."

"Whoa, look at that composure. That's the Emperor of the Night who tamed an S-rank for you."

"No killing intent at all. They say a true master hides his aura…"

…It wasn't that I had no killing intent. I was just wiped out from being worked over all night.

Stuck to my side like a wad of gum was the root of this entire circus: Elise.

She had the sleeves of my oversized dress shirt rolled up and was clamped onto my arm with both hands. The inmates swallowed hard and still didn't dare look — they turned their heads away. You would too, if you preferred keeping your eyeballs in their sockets.

"Hey. Air conditioner."

"Yes, Inmate."

"Why does everyone keep staring? It's annoying."

Elise scowled and grumbled.

We were on our way to the temporary quarters — the VIP Visitation Room — because the Penthouse had burned to a crisp.

"Because you're too beautiful, Inmate."

"Hmph. Obviously."

She snorted, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward.

Simple. Getting easier to handle.

"And they're scared. Anyone who watched that fire show yesterday and wasn't scared would have their guts hanging outside their body."

"You're not scared."

"I…"

I chose my words carefully.

Of course I was scared. Terrifyingly so.

But if I ran, a five-billion-won penalty clause was waiting for me with open arms.

"I'm the handler. A handler can't be afraid of his patient."

"Patient?"

Elise stopped walking and looked up at me. Those red eyes rippled with something unreadable.

"You're the first person besides the Warden to look at me like a patient instead of a monster."

"Is that a compliment?"

"Who knows. It might mean you're an idiot."

She tugged my arm again.

"Hurry up. I'm hungry."

The temporary quarters — the VIP Visitation Room.

No bed, just a lonely sofa sitting in the middle of the space. Elise didn't complain. More precisely, her attitude said that as long as her personal human air conditioner was right there, the environment could go hang.

"Ahh~."

"…Excuse me?"

"I don't have hands free. I'm holding onto you."

Elise kept both hands locked around my left arm and simply opened her mouth. I sighed, speared a piece of steak with a fork, and fed it to her.

Chew, chew.

Her cheeks bulged with meat as she wore a look of pure satisfaction. I kept slicing and ferrying steak with the diligence of a full-time attendant.

To anyone watching, it would have looked exactly like a couple's meal. In reality, it was a caregiver spoon-feeding a patient.

Knock knock.

The door opened, and an unwelcome guest walked in.

Black uniform. A nameplate on his chest.

"Pardon the interruption. I'm here regarding the transfer of Inmate 001."

Supervisor Park.

The same condescending senior who'd looked at me like a bug on my first day. He put on a polite face, but his eyes were packed with contempt and jealousy.

An F-rank strutting around with an S-rank on his arm. Disgusting, right?

I could read him like an open book.

Elise didn't even glance at him. She was focused entirely on the meat.

"Handler Kang Jinsoo. Step outside for a moment? I've got some work to hand over."

Supervisor Park called me out. A clear summons — he meant to put me in my place.

I was about to answer when—

Clack.

Elise set down her fork.

"Who said you could tell him to come and go?"

She turned her head and pinned Supervisor Park with a stare. Licking sauce from the corner of her mouth, she drawled lazily,

"My air conditioner is eating. Can't you see?"

"Ah — my apologies. But under regulations, training a new hire is a senior's duty, so…"

"Training?"

Fwoosh.

The candle flame on the table suddenly roared upward. Supervisor Park flinched and stumbled back a step.

"I'll train him myself. Don't stick your nose where it doesn't belong."

"B-but…"

"Get lost. You're ruining my appetite."

Elise flicked her hand — the exact motion you'd use to shoo a fly.

Supervisor Park's face flushed purple, then pale. A B-rank hunter's pride, trampled by an S-rank inmate — and right in front of an F-rank rookie, no less.

"…Understood. I'll come back later."

He glared at me and mouthed the words:

Just you wait.

Then he slammed the door hard enough to rattle the frame on his way out.

"What a creep."

Elise opened her mouth again as if nothing had happened.

"Ahh~."

"…Inmate, that man is my direct senior."

"So? If he's mad about it, tell him to go be a witch too."

Logical. Unassailable.

I picked up another piece of meat and put it in her mouth.

But a chill ran down my spine. That last look from Supervisor Park — pure malice, no question.

I've been marked.

The price of borrowing a tiger's authority would be steep. Safe while the tiger was at your side — but the moment the tiger slept, the fox became prey.

"Mmm…"

The second her stomach was full, Elise fell asleep. Sprawled sideways on the sofa with my thigh as her pillow, snoring softly without a care in the world, she looked exactly like a cat.

Of course, the problem was that this particular cat was a nuclear-grade feline who could torch an entire city if you poked her wrong.

When she's asleep, she's an angel.

Two in the afternoon.

The sleepiest, most peaceful hour of the day.

My head, however, was a mess.

Bzzzt—

The radio in my pocket vibrated once, short and sharp. I checked it with the volume muted. A text message.

Here it came.

I looked down at the sleeping Elise. Wake her and she'd be furious. Sneak out and she'd somehow know anyway, with that sixth sense of hers.

But ignore a senior's summons and he'd slap me with a disciplinary write-up for "insubordination" without blinking.

It'll only take a minute.

I carefully shifted Elise's head onto a sofa cushion. Thankfully she only whimpered a soft "nnngh…" and didn't wake. I draped my outer jacket over her and slipped out of the visitation room like a stray cat on the prowl.

Basement Level 2. The supply room.

A cramped corner stuffed with dust-caked cleaning tools and battered old fixtures. I opened the door and walked into a haze of acrid cigarette smoke.

"You came."

Supervisor Park was perched on a battered desk, smoking. Flanking him stood two massive guards with their arms crossed — a little show of force.

"You called for me, sir."

"Hey, Kang Jinsoo. Living large, aren't we?"

He ground his cigarette butt into the floor and walked over. He flicked my name tag with two fingers.

"An F-rank strutting around with an S-rank on his arm — think the whole world belongs to you now? Inmates calling you 'big bro' this and 'big bro' that, and you actually believe you're somebody?"

"I've done nothing of the sort. I'm simply performing my duties…"

"Duties?"

Supervisor Park snorted — then suddenly kicked me in the shin.

Thud!

"Ghk—!"

The unexpected blow staggered me. A reinforcement-type Awakener's kick — pain that rattled the bone itself. I didn't scream. I clenched my teeth and held it in.

"Hurt? Of course it does. That's the difference in rank."

He grabbed me by the collar and slammed me into the wall. A B-rank's oppressive presence crushed down over my whole body.

It was nothing like Elise's killing intent. If hers was an overwhelming natural disaster, this guy's was the sticky, foul stench of a sewer drain.

"Listen carefully. Whether you got in on the Warden's backing or sold your body to the Witch, I don't care. What I won't stand for is you throwing your weight around in my sector."

He snarled, spittle hitting my face.

"I originally applied for the exclusive 001 detail. Then the Warden picks you? An F-rank piece of trash? Do you have any idea how much that bruised ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my pride?"

Ah. Inferiority complex.

An F-rank had taken the post he'd been rejected for. Of course it burned.

"So I'm going to give you a little training. A rookie shouldn't get too comfortable, right?"

Supervisor Park gestured to the guards behind him. They dropped two enormous boxes with a heavy thud.

Inside were spent mana stones, their magic fluctuating unstably.

"Sort all of these. Today."

"…All of them, sir?"

"What, you can't? Then write your resignation."

Sorting spent mana stones.

It looked like simple labor. In reality, it was the most hated job in the facility. The unstable mana leaking from the stones chewed away at a worker's mind. Normally it was done by machine, or by C-rank and above in full protective gear.

Ordering an F-rank to do it bare-handed was basically telling me to go die.

"I'm currently on close-contact management of Inmate 001. Taking this assignment would interfere with my primary duties…"

"Don't give me excuses!"

He flicked my cheek with his fingers.

"You said 001 is asleep. Do it while she's out. And if you don't finish every last one, I'm putting a red mark on your personnel file for 'inadequate job performance.' Clear?"

Personnel evaluation.

That was tied directly to full-time conversion, bonuses, and — above all — the five-billion-won penalty clause. Get fired here and the loan sharks would drag me off to put on a very different kind of show.

"…Understood."

"Can't hear you."

"Understood! I'll do it!"

"There we go. Should've said that from the start."

Supervisor Park clapped my shoulder, satisfied.

"Oh, and keep this from 001. You're not the kind of pathetic little snitch who runs crying to an inmate over internal work, right?"

He left the supply room with a nasty grin. The big guys followed, snickering at me as they went.

I was alone in the empty supply room.

"Haa…"

I sank to the floor and rubbed my throbbing shin.

It hurt. Managing a witch's moods was already killing me — and now I had to endure a bullying senior's power trip on top of it.

Just sorting, right? Fine. I'll do your damn sorting.

I gritted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my teeth and approached the boxes of spent mana stones.

Fortunately, I had Status Condition Immunity.

The debuff that let corrupted mana from spent stones gnaw at a person's mind wouldn't work on me.

Just watch. You think a pile of rocks is going to break me?

I started sorting like a man possessed. My hands scraped raw and the undersides of my nails turned black, but I didn't stop. If anything, the mindless labor helped clear the clutter in my head.

One hour. Two hours.

I had nearly emptied one of the boxes when—

Bzzzt—

The radio buzzed. Not a text this time. A call.

Origin: VIP Visitation Room.

Elise's voice. She'd woken up. It was thick with sleep, but the irritation underneath came through crystal clear.

"I-I'm coming! I just stepped out to the bathroom!"

That woman was a damn bloodhound.

I looked down at my blackened hands. The foul stench of spent mana stones was practically vibrating off them.

"I'll wash up and be right there! Just give me one minute!"

I stopped what I was doing and shot to my feet. Unsorted stones still sat in a mountain. But right now, soothing the Witch came first.

Supervisor Park, you son of a bitch. This isn't over.

I bolted from the supply room and headed for a sink. I scrubbed my hands raw with soap, but the black grime under my nails and that distinctive fishy mana-stone reek refused to come off easily.

"Damn it, damn it!"

I wiped my wet hands roughly on my clothes and ran for the visitation room.

What was I supposed to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tell Elise?

That Supervisor Park ordered me to do it? Then he'd cook my personnel file. Lie? She'd catch it instantly.

Caught between a rock and a hard place.

A fire-breathing witch in front of me. A knife-wielding senior behind me.

Not a single quiet day in my life at Abyss.

I opened the visitation room door. Elise sat on the sofa with her legs crossed. Her eyes went straight to my hands.

And slowly — very coldly — they narrowed.

"You… what happened to your hands?"

The air around her began to shimmer.

I swallowed dryly.

Getting through today in one piece was looking less and less likely.