#37 Devil's Hand (3)

Saturday afternoon, and crowds swarmed everywhere we went. In the heart of the bustling shopping district we visited now and then, I met Seo Yeon-hee at the square adorned with a quaint fountain.

We texted every day, but we didn't meet that often. This was only our second time in April since the samgyeopsal barbecue a few days ago—once every ten days or so. For working adults, that wasn't exactly rare. My meetings with her had dropped sharply after I started at Jeil High School, so in that light, it felt surprisingly realistic.

Seo Yeon-hee was dressed vibrantly today. Full spring had arrived, and she wore a loose, flowing dress that matched perfectly. No flashy jewelry caught the eye, just light makeup on her face as she beamed at me and gave a gentle wave.

And right after that, as her lips puckered into a perfect circle—clearly prepping an "o" sound—I rushed forward.

"Ah, seriously, I warned you. Don't call me that."

I clapped my hand over her mouth. The soft, moist feel of her lips and the faint tint smearing onto my palm didn't faze me.

After all the grief I'd gone through catering to Sea's moods. And beyond that, hearing her call me "oppa" right in front of me would scramble my brain.

The weird part was how Seo Yeon-hee, who should've effortlessly dodged, just let my hand stay there, watching me.

I learned why soon enough.

I warned her sincerely and pulled my hand away. She looked up at me with flustered eyes, then asked with a hint of embarrassment.

"Um... don't you like being called Dojin?"

"...Ah."

That's when it hit me. Lee Dojin. It had an "o" sound too.

Around then, she seemed to catch on to my sudden move, narrowing her eyes playfully before teasing me with a grin.

"You secretly like that kind of thing, huh?"

"...No clue what you're talking about, but anyway, no. We're busy—let's get going."

I barely remember what she said after that.

We switched transports several times to reach a remote spot, then flew a few more kilometers to our destination. A forest path with no sign of humans for hundreds of meters around. We entered the lone, dilapidated cabin and killed time until past six in the afternoon. Then, ripples of light shimmered in the air.

Weeeng, shoooo...

Three in total. Figures in masks emerged from them—one animal mask each, by coincidence.

Dragon, Rabbit, Fox.

The Dragon Mask—Yoo Hae-bin, slimmer than usual and shrouded in mist—greeted us energetically.

"Boss, Senior! Hello! First time meeting the other two for real!"

"Nice to meet you."

The Fox Mask's calm reply. True to form, the Rabbit Mask—who specialized in keeping her mouth shut unless necessary—just nodded.

"All five here... Let me explain the plan again."

Seo Yeon-hee headed to the table in the cabin's center as she spoke. She'd changed our appearances and builds beforehand, and today she wore a mask too. A hat alone wouldn't cut it for hiding her face amid the busywork.

She picked up a black pen and wrote on the paper atop the table.

"We'll split into two groups. Me, Fox, and Dragon... basically decoys. While we keep them busy, my cutie pie and our Rabbit eliminate the loose ends. If it goes smoothly, we're done then. If not, all five move together from there. Estimated time: under sixty minutes. That's the max—faster is better, right?"

It wasn't a complicated op. Her group handled their part, we handled ours.

Mine and Rabbit's roles seemed straightforward enough... the other three were the concern. They'd drawn the annoying jobs.

But Yoo Hae-bin replied with cheerful vigor.

"No problem! Just hold 'em so they can't leave, yeah?"

"That's the gist. Everyone read the roster?"

The hunters at the auction house. At ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠least ten A-ranks, but really, Han Tae-gang alone warranted more caution than all of them combined.

The Rabbit Mask asked for details on that point.

"Eternal Guild's Han Tae-gang... who's handling him?"

"Oh, don't worry about that. Me and this guy have it covered."

Seo Yeon-hee chattered casually, resting the hand not holding the pen on my shoulder. Her slender fingers brushed my exposed neckline naturally, past the mask. The Fox Mask watched silently, then offered in a flat tone.

"If someone needs to step in, I'd like to handle it. That okay?"

"If it comes to that."

Seo Yeon-hee smiled and wrapped up the talk.

"Devil's Hand hits the auction at nine p.m. Cutie pie and Rabbit head out around eight-thirty... we'll follow shortly after."

With that settled, silence blanketed the crumbling cabin.

Perception barriers kept outsiders away, but we couldn't leave either. Seo Yeon-hee lounged in a chair, humming a tune. Fox and Rabbit claimed diagonal corners.

Ten minutes or so later, Yoo Hae-bin glanced around cautiously and whispered to me.

"Teac—er, uh, Senior."

"What."

"Y'know... that thing."

She peeked left and right, then asked curiously.

"Those two don't get along?"

Meant the Fox and Rabbit Masks, obviously. I answered with what I knew.

"Guess they just never clicked from the start."

Seo Yeon-hee had brought them in as recruits, and it'd been like that ever since. They synced fine during ops, but otherwise treated each other like ghosts—no chit-chat.

Yoo Hae-bin whispered knowingly.

"I get the vibe. Y'know, those types who are kinda awkward socially. Hard to warm up to."

"...Who're you thinking of?"

Cheeky enough to badmouth our Sea right to my face. But Yoo Hae-bin blinked innocently.

"Huh? You know someone like that too, Senior?"

"...Focus up. Go somewhere else."

I mentally noted to punish her properly next class as I looked down.

My fists were clenched tight without me realizing.

"Hoo..."

Today, these hands would kill ten people. Like before.

And ahead.

No knowing when it'd end. My goal was clear; everything else was my call.

So I didn't want regrets—at least not in the moments I chose. I'd strained for that so far.

And today too.

Eight-thirty arrived. Seo Yeon-hee approached and patted my shoulder.

Shoooo...

The mist cloaking my body blended with the surroundings. Even I could barely make out my own form.

"Mana'll dispel it. That's fine, right?"

"Plenty."

For the opening strike. Hide till then, and nothing else mattered.

She cast stealth on Rabbit too. We stood side by side near the cabin door.

"Good luck, Senior!" Yoo Hae-bin cheered.

"Be careful." The Fox Mask's low murmur.

"See you later." Seo Yeon-hee's fond send-off.

Shoooo...

The empty space split vertically. I stepped through—and night sky greeted me under the fallen sun.

Mana's blessing had graced the world for over a millennium now.

In the light, famed guilds and houses rose. But those wielding mana didn't limit themselves to them.

Why hold back on what I crave with this power?

Such thoughts birthed outliers. No... plenty of them.

Those who betrayed comrades over petty grudges. Those craving riches beyond means, ethics be damned. Those who relished torment, even murder.

Time drew them together.

Groups dubbed mana special crime organizations.

And among them, "Thief"—centered in the Middle East—was one of the oldest, over twenty years since founding.

Awakener thieves at its core, delighting in seizure. Valuables to them ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or their targets—wealth, life, anything went. Stealing brought profound satisfaction, mana fanning those flames.

Its most notorious was boss Khalid.

Thief's strongest, cruelest, most desire-warped soul. Beyond standard S-rank, unrivaled in the group.

As Korean time neared nine p.m., Khalid—hidden a hundred meters from Daemyeong Group's auction—surveyed his men.

"Time to move."

One reason for this distant land: steal the Devil's Hand.

Korea's Awakener Association called it impractical, but Khalid saw through the flimsy lie.

As if it could be useless.

Days ago, intel arrived. The hand was material for a weapon of immense power. Backed by docs from a verified source.

A-grade terror group Phantom, active lately.

They proposed: join forces to steal it.

Compelling terms, hard to refuse.

Execution: eight-fifty p.m.

They'll distract Han Tae-gang...

Thief just needed to snatch it pre-auction. Khalid's peerless in theft; that's why they chose them.

"All set?"

His men grinned wickedly. Biggest score in years.

Khalid smirked inwardly at Phantom.

Wrong ally chosen.

Phantom was strong. Their number two slew Iron Fist Yeom Ui-jun at a party. Enigmatic boss held off JR Guild's two heads.

Equivalent to two peak 36 Heroes.

But...

Han Tae-gang's different.

Yeom Ui-jun? Joseph Leonard? Rick Gadel? Laughable. Even combined, toppling Martial God Han Tae-gang? Futile.

Phantom's boss versus him? A minute's endurance would be impressive.

Thus, Khalid planned to vanish post-theft. No pursuit spare. If they came, slaughter them—drained from Han Tae-gang.

He'd brought twelve A-rank-equivalent elites, prepped for Phantom clash.

Good.

Clock ticked ten-to-nine.

Grinning, Khalid led through dark alleys.

Thud, thud.

Footsteps trailed.

Then, they cut off.

Schwick—

A familiar severing sound.

Scream followed.

"Gaaahhh—!"

He whirled. One minion staggered, right arm gone. Black wisps danced in empty air.

Mist cleared. Two shadows. Plain white mask. Cute rabbit mask.

Boom!

White Mask blitzed the amputee.

Thud. Grabbed collar, hoisted.

Tensed hand...

Spluuurt!

Body burst like a balloon.

Eleven minions and Khalid clustered.

Trap dawned in a flash. Retreat or fight?

White Mask murmured low.

"Come at me."

The scales tipped to fight. No time to question why.

Unbeknownst, White had nudged his mind.

Numbers favored assault.

One minion flinched back. Rabbit flung her hands.

"Urk!"

Rear minion yelped. Slashes on forearm and back bled.

The passage to main street—now webbed with invisible mana threads, blocking escape.

Physical retreat ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠impossible.

Khalid bellowed harshly.

"Kill 'em both. Rip off those masks."

The battle began.

I never thought myself a good person.

Where's a good soul doing this?

I do it because I want to. Because not doing it would drive me mad.

My novel's protagonist and heroine, cherished like children.

My parents, who gave love beyond repayment.

I couldn't survive a day without saving them—trying to.

And that's the limit of fate.

How exactly? My choice.

The hologram demanded ten deaths.

Never refused a quest, but maybe I could've skipped. Taken the penalty.

But I didn't.

I chose to kill ten awakeners gladly.

My call—who died too.

Seo Yeon-hee's secret demon corpse. Asked her to sever the arm, dump it in a park.

Lured it to auction. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Fed false intel to crime group Thief, drawing them to Korea.

Ten A-rank awakeners. If killing, at least scum like them.

Those whose worthless lives couldn't atone a tenth of lives they'd taken, even dying for one innocent.

I don't think I'm doing good.

Don't claim minimal conscience.

I just wanted to.

Author of World Guardian.

Protagonist of Birth of the Demon God.

Final boss of Kill the Evil.

And as a man living this world by my free will.

I chose my deeds.

Obvious, really. No novel spells every thought and act.

So...

It won't go exactly as you want. Ever.

I glared at the hologram and reached out.

Crunch!

Heartburst sound.

Hologram updated.