Chapter 10
Chapter 10
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 010
Chapter Title: Who Allowed It? I Didn't Allow It.
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The terrified Yanbian sorcerer spilled everything.
The figure before him wasn't human.
A Rank 1 Purgatory Surface disaster.
The torrent of power exploding from the depths of Purgatory Surface carried a faint whiff of hell.
You couldn't just touch something like that willy-nilly.
Fine, let's say touching it was tolerable if you yielded.
With dozens of spells protecting your body, it wasn't untouchable.
But this guy? He ate it.
There's a reason folklore warns against eating things from other worlds.
Ingestion is the most intimate connection to an object.
Eat something from hell, and you're connected to hell.
What happens to a soul tied to hell?
Straight to hell.
The being standing before the Yanbian sorcerer was exactly that.
An impure element mocking the laws of the world.
'Son of Hell.'
The words didn't sound like a joke.
Having heard the full story, the monster pulled a small box wrapped in cloth from the Yanbian sorcerer's bosom.
"Spirit Ice Sect. An organization specializing in souls and possessions. You claim you know nothing beyond their founder resurrecting? Not because you're just a low-rank member?"
"I'm the captain of one unit. Above me, there's only the elders, and if they were plotting something, the elders would know."
"What about the sect leader?"
"The position has been vacant since the founder."
"Makes sense. If the founder resurrects and the current leader won't step down, that'd be a hassle."
An Young-hee unwrapped the cloth emblazoned with bagua symbols and opened the box. Inside was a weathered bell.
"This is Spirit Ice Sect's sacred relic. No need to pretend you don't recognize it, right?"
"The Korean government would definitely know about it."
"Good answer. But do you know what happens after the interrogation ends?"
An Young-hee grabbed the Yanbian sorcerer by the collar.
"Thank you, thank you."
"You're insane."
Why the thanks for a one-way trip to hell?
An Young-hee hurled the Yanbian sorcerer out from under the umbrella.
As he flew, he collided mid-air with a falling anchovy and vanished.
All it took to send a man to hell was one anchovy.
"What a mad world."
A insane urban stormscape where rain, tornadoes, and seafood churned together.
An Young-hee walked through the downpour and flying fish.
Yoo Shin-hwa didn't pass out.
Shin-hwa.
His true name tenaciously held onto his consciousness.
His mind sharpened unnaturally clear.
Was this the power of his true name too?
Who knew.
Not much was known about true names.
Some even claimed they were clues to reaching heaven.
Yoo Shin-hwa just hated this situation.
What's the point of keeping his mind intact while paralyzing his body?
To leave last words?
Heroes in legends always nailed their final words.
As he pondered an epic parting line, Yoo Shin-hwa watched An Young-hee prepare for a final showdown with the Yanbian sorcerers.
An Young-hee, facing off against the villainous sorcerers in ankle-deep water, embodied the hero Yoo Shin-hwa had always envisioned.
He was unscathed even touching the fish. He even ate some.
Then An Young-hee muttered,
'Guess I'm the son of hell or something.'
The sorcerers' ghosts couldn't even approach him.
Not in this hellish place.
Only An Young-hee stood tall.
"That's... a hero..."
His family elders had taught Yoo Shin-hwa to live a righteous, impartial life. That's what made a hero, they'd said.
That wasn't heroism.
Was Hercules a hero because he had the virtues of a saint?
Was Cao Cao a hero for being such a good son?
A hero wasn't someone good or righteous.
A hero accomplished the impossible and witnessed what others couldn't.
Like that man over there.
An Young-hee flung the last sorcerer into the rain.
Since he wasn't a hero, he melted away into hell with the rainwater.
Having dealt with the final sorcerer, An Young-hee walked over.
"How you holding up? Can you hang in there?"
"This true name of mine... it's just buying me time for last words. I can feel it. I'll say them, and then I'll die."
An Young-hee scowled.
Yoo Shin-hwa turned his head, gazing at the blackened sky.
"Sacrifice is part of a hero's path. You're the hero, Uncle, and I'm the one who supports you and dies. That's how it goes."
"Quit talking like that. You're just a kid."
He'd just sent those sorcerers straight to hell.
Kim Cheol-su, and the sorcerer possessing his body—An Young-hee had killed them both personally.
He felt no aversion to death whatsoever.
But watching Yoo Shin-hwa die? That was tough.
That face, accepting it all with such resolve, reminded him of his mother on her sickbed.
Purgatory Wiki hammered it home repeatedly.
-Judge the amount of Death Qi you can accept and handle wisely.
-Knowing your own limits is the prime virtue of any sorcerer.
Know your limits.
Know your place.
-Accepting Purgatory Surface's Death Qi brings you closer to death, so always monitor your condition when handling it.
The more Death Qi you use, the more your soul stains with death, until you cross a point of no return.
It happened even to top-tier sorcerers all the time.
'Will it work?'
An Young-hee had never once felt inadequate or endangered by Death Qi.
He just did it, and it worked.
Unlucky genius territory, but true.
Spells needed a plausible ritual and the sorcerer's will.
Fulfill those two, and even AI-generated spells activated.
"Who allowed it?" "Uncle?" "I didn't permit lightness. I didn't permit release. I didn't permit falling. You shall not become light. You shall not be released. You shall not fall." "You're scaring me. What's with that?" "I impose weight. I impose bonds. I stake you like a post. I am the one who brings peace, the one who bestows peace." "You shall be bound, unmingled, unpulled, steadfast." "Thus, you shall have peace."
⟨ Anchor Ritual ⟩
An Young-hee plunged his hand into Yoo Shin-hwa's body.
He grasped the doll at the core of his flesh.
Death Qi formed the body as he extracted the doll and pressed it to the ground.
The street was flooded, hiding the pavement from view.
But An Young-hee clearly sensed the reality beyond the floor.
Finally, An Young-hee said to Yoo Shin-hwa,
"If you survive, come to the station and light some incense for me."
He shoved the doll forcefully into the ground.
His hand, clutching the doll, bored into the earth and crossed into reality.
The doll was a relay linking reality and Purgatory Surface.
If the connection grew unstable due to the Purgatory Surface disaster, send the relay to a safe spot.
Did it work?
No clue.
It had all been An Young-hee's whim from start to finish.
Failure would sour his mood big time.
An Young-hee straightened up from pressing his hand to the ground.
The tornado loomed much closer now.
After handling major crises back-to-back, mental fatigue set in. And guys like him got childish when alone.
Staring down the remote vowing to use telekinesis for real, or fantasizing about stylishly subduing a home invader— that's how he unwound.
This was just more of that juvenile nonsense.
An Young-hee extended his hand toward the tornado.
Who Allowed It?
Tornado dispelled. I didn't allow it.
Clench.
He balled his fist.
And the tornado vanished.
Seafood and rebar it carried hurtled outward before crashing down.
"...You're kidding."
A phantom cold sweat beaded on his sweatless flesh.
Kim Se-yeon was swamped.
A Rank 1 Purgatory Surface disaster had erupted, along with an assault by a group aiming to overthrow Korea's Purgatory Surface control.
The Korean government tightly controlled Purgatory Surface.
Disgruntled elements attacked sporadically—a routine lasting over a decade.
'But that's not all.'
Foreign powers probing Korea's weakening influence added their insidious strikes, like true military ops.
Rank 1 disasters lasted hours to months. Until then, no clocking out—just eat, sleep, and guard city hall in Purgatory Surface.
That's how it was supposed to go.
But the tornado vanished.
Fish still fell, but fewer, and weaker in Purgatory Surface aura.
On the 5-rank disaster scale, this was upper Rank 4 or lower Rank 3 territory.
Manageable based on the handler's skill.
Falling fish posed no major threat if you stayed alert.
This was an opportunity. A huge one.
"It's calming down."
"Yeah. You okay, Deputy?"
"Ironclad... Huh. They've got you with them."
Kim Se-yeon spotted three people tailing Ironclad like chicks.
"Where are the other two?"
"...We got separated in the fight. Tracks suggest they pursued the Yanbian sorcerers."
"Disciplinary action will depend on how well you write those reports."
Kim Se-yeon issued the warning.
Participating in a government program meant being government-friendly—hard to find such people.
Over 50 candidates this time, but only 6 joined, including Yoo Shin-hwa.
Three potential junior officials or government collaborators were missing.
Yoo Shin-hwa was a solid martial artist, but not survivor level against multiple Yanbian sorcerers.
That was the limit of modern—and Purgatory Surface—martial artists.
Kim Se-yeon addressed the fatigued trio.
"First off, glad you're safe. Effort deserves reward. Here's good news: You've hit a once-in-years jackpot. Those fish carry deep-core Death Qi. Sell 'em in reality, and you're looking at nine figures easy."
"R-Really?"
Oh Jae-cheon, pushing late 30s, had gone bust from scams.
Hanged himself amid debts, then Deep Dived into Purgatory Surface.
Miraculously survived, but debts followed even here.
If he hadn't learned Purgatory Surface meant money, he'd have hanged himself again, hell be damned.
"Know what the deep core is?"
"The real Purgatory Surface, not this place."
Kim Yu-shin spoke up.
"Figured that out in a week? Ever thought of becoming a civil servant?"
"N-No, not yet."
Grad student Kim Yu-shin, ready to ditch his program for the right offer, but his gut—untouched even entering grad school—screamed warnings at shaman civil service pitches.
"Can't force you. Deep-core Death Qi items fetch millions per pebble. And right now, seafood's dumping enough to turn all Seoul into Noryangjin market. Ironclad. Take those folks and collect nearby fish. Pull relics from the warehouse as needed."
"Collected seafood is ours to keep?"
The three rookies' eyes sparkled.
Even Kim Se-yeon felt tempted.
Rookies saw only cash, but hey, raking it in beat nothing.
Ironclad led the trio away.
Kim Se-yeon eyed the reddening sky.
"Tornado. Gone, just like that."
Fish were dangerous, but the tornado? An unstoppable calamity.
If it'd lingered months, Korea's barriers would've shattered, rippling to China and Japan.
Yet it vanished abruptly.
Purgatory Surface disasters popped up and faded on whims, but this was too sudden.
Like someone erased it.
"Ridiculous."
Records existed of crushing Rank 4 or 5 disasters by force, but Rank 1? Different league.
Hand grenade vs. nuke.
If a sorcerer dispelled that tornado, they'd be godlike in Purgatory Surface.
Kim Se-yeon's eyes widened.
A ragged-clothed participant trudged toward them.
Spotting Kim Se-yeon, An Young-hee approached.
"What happened?"
"Tracked Yoo Shin-hwa and the Yanbian sorcerers. Picked this up along the way."
An Young-hee produced the box.
"Spirit Ice Sect?"
Kim Se-yeon recognized it.
'Jackpot.'
An Young-hee inwardly cheered.
This dodged futures where tracking Kim Cheol-su snared him instead.
Good news kept coming.
"Those fish are all money?"
An Young-hee was loaded. And broke.
Nothing liquidatable.
House gone, debts piling—quick cash was welcome.