Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 011
Chapter Title: Reunion with My Dead Mom Was the Worst.
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An Young-hee looked at Ironclad with moist eyes.
"Chief Officer. Is there really no way? What if we ask someone else...?"
"This is materialization, my specialty... If my sorcery doesn't work, there won't be anyone on the Korean Peninsula who can pull it off."
An Young-hee stared at the gold nugget right in front of him... like a fish flopping around in a market stall box.
The other three had each taken a box back to reality with Ironclad's help.
Ironclad's sorcery hadn't worked on An Young-hee's item.
"This... this can't be real. There's no way this is happening."
Ironclad met the gaze of those rotten pollock eyes.
"Chief Officer, what should I do? Could you at least..."
"That's solicitation of bribery, you know? Don't go begging other sorcerers for favors like that either. You'll get stabbed in the back hard."
"No way..."
Ironclad placed a hand on An Young-hee's shoulder.
"It'll bring tears of blood, but giving up makes it easier. How about becoming a civil servant while you're at it? We direct-deposit the allowances here."
"I'll pass, thanks."
An Young-hee straightened up, dead serious.
An Young-hee spent two days hanging out in Purgatory Surface, helping Ironclad with his work.
Their age gap wasn't that big, so they hit it off decently.
He was worried about the real world, but apparently his body there was in the hands of a vetted medical team taking proper care of it.
'The worry isn't on that end.'
He was anxious about some weird changes happening to his physical body in reality.
'Doesn't look like any major issues, though.'
Judging from the sorcerer civil servants' reactions, things were still okay for now.
No guarantees it'd stay that way forever, though.
He had to get back to reality ASAP.
Return prep was done. Before heading out of Purgatory Surface, An Young-hee made one last stop at the bus stand.
The ankle-deep water drained off fast.
A sewer department sorcerer civil servant had directed the cleanup, sorting it out quick.
The infrastructure itself was fine; the issue was the first downpour since Purgatory Surface showed up.
The floor emerged as the water receded.
And across that floor—visible only to An Young-hee—reality.
At the real-world bus stand, a single stick of incense burned in a head-sized censer.
"Said light one, and they really lit just the one. Kids these days and their vibes, huh."
Still.
Alive was good enough.
An Young-hee pulled out the paper Kim Se-yeon had given him.
A sheet covered in a magic circle and brimming with Death Qi.
He set it on the ground and stepped on top. The paper lit up.
The doll serving as his body's core vanished, then his Death Qi flesh scattered away.
'I could resist if I tried.'
But it'd just draw unwanted suspicion.
An Young-hee closed his eyes.
He opened them to a hospital room.
IV needle in one arm, and on the other, the doll he'd made with Kim Se-yeon.
The door opened. A familiar sorcerer civil servant walked in.
"Dobong Mountain?"
"Chief Yoon Hyun-yoon here. Greeting done?"
"Yes."
"Get up and move around. Gotta fix any glitches right here."
Move? No clue how.
An Young-hee awkwardly powered through a full set of national exercises.
Yoon Hyun-yoon put a hand on An Young-hee's shoulder.
"No hitches. No discharge paperwork. Walk out like nothing happened, back to normal life."
"Ah, got it."
He'd been laid up in the room, but no patient gown—just his regular clothes.
A few talismans stuck to the fabric screamed sorcery.
Hands and wallet light, An Young-hee strolled right out of the hospital.
Blue sky overhead.
Fresh emotions surged.
"...Fuck. This really happen after just a week?"
No such thing as easy days anymore.
Yoon Hyun-yoon peered down at An Young-hee from the hospital window.
A suited man stepped into the room.
"Chief. How's it looking?"
"What is there to say? Total smokescreen. No way a newbie dipping toes in Purgatory Surface offs that old bat."
The Vacant Shrine Maiden dipping into politics had the Sorcery Hazard Countermeasures Division on red alert.
Decades back, pushers had urged her into the political ring.
Hitler, no less.
A demonic sword that could cleave a nation in half—one of history's all-time greats.
Fools everywhere thought they could handle it. All got swallowed whole.
She'd tested the waters with a fingertip, then never glanced back.
Now that nuke was stirring again.
Digging into why uncovered the MacArthur Shrine Maiden's exorcism as the trigger. Cue national probe into her exorcism.
An Young-hee was a suspect for the moment.
Presumed last contact before the MacArthur Shrine Maiden vanished.
"Report?"
"No charges."
"Leave wiggle room for another meet?"
"Not signing off? Want endless bounces?"
"Fair enough. Still coveting him though? Genius deploying martial arts on sight."
Severing ties amid a rampaging Purgatory Surface disaster to return? Lunacy.
Yoo Shin-hwa survived not some low-rank mess—a full rank-1 disaster.
And right before Purgatory Surface exit, his soul was irreversibly soaked in Death Qi.
Real-world Yoo Shin-hwa? Pristine.
Crack that method, save hordes from Purgatory Surface disasters.
Yoo Shin-hwa got grilled hard.
Zero yields.
'Looked like he was holding back.'
Yoon Hyun-yoon's gut only.
Testimony held no holes.
Investigation also revealed An Young-hee packing martial arts.
Prime talent.
But.
"Why would a guy like that sign up for civil service."
"Can't argue. Sigh, manpower crunch ever end?"
"Our division's eternally understaffed. Dream on. Let's roll."
The two civil servants shuffled out like patients.
Purgatory Surface cleanup, politics' Hitler, Kim Cheol-su and Spirit Ice Sect on top.
They croaked? Death by overwork, crushed under workload.
An Young-hee sighed at his bank balance.
Texts piled up.
Especially pay-up demands.
Burned house aftermath.
Left-over loans.
His cash? Laughable.
Not just ramen-only life—ramen off the menu soon.
Riiiing. Call incoming.
An Young-hee checked, picked up.
"Yo, Uncle."
-Homeless punk finally calls?
Speechless for a beat, then regret hit.
Too quick on the draw.
'Needed an alibi ready... nah, ghost a week—how excuse that.'
Off to afterlife, snagged in disaster, delayed return?
Geum Se-hun'd haul him to Korea's top shrink, hand in iron grip.
No shaking those 635 flexing bragging muscles.
Prodding voice across the line.
An Young-hee whipped up an excuse on the fly.
"Grieving hard, took a soul-searching trip."
-Fair enough. Snooped while you ghosted. Arson confirmed, perp on the lam. Insurance payout incoming—covers house settle-up, mortgage wipe, few mil left. Bastards lowballed; max this side of court. Sue for billions more?
Not even involved, yet doable? An Young-hee rolled with it.
Geum Se-hun ran the maternal cash flow.
Ghost-taming gold beats corralling civvies and suits.
"Timeline?"
-Min three years. They dig in, endless.
"Nah. Take the deal."
One week.
Glance at the chaos since Purgatory Surface entry.
Tomorrow's fog—three years? Eternity.
-No regrets?
"Nope."
-Got your grandpa's streak. Funds hit account today-tomorrow. Same one?
"Yeah."
Billions shaved to 60 mil.
Gut punch, but silver lining.
Dozens of texts nuked, short-term living secured.
Mom memories cashed out.
Relief at no money woes? Self-disgust rose.
-Plans?
"Clean slate."
Opportunity.
Sorcerer life reboot.
An Young-hee eyed the floor. Purgatory Surface beyond—people, ghosts milling.
This constitution? Normal life DOA.
Sorcerer fate: probe, conceal, exploit it.
-Solo for real?
"Tens of mil? Frugal rent, two years solid. Not lounging."
Sensed something?
Geum Se-hun spoke.
-An Young-hee.
"Yeah?"
-Stay safe. Mom's share too.
"Will do."
Hung up.
Text pinged spot-on.
Post-wrangling, 60 mil remainder.
"Mom memories fetch this?"
Bittersweet pang—like a world-link snapped.
Low simmer anger.
"Full pivot to arson?"
Insurance scum needed bankruptcy wake-up.
An Young-hee neatly folded insurance hate, tucked in heart nook.
60 mil.
60 mil memories.
Pricetag on nostalgia? Chest tight, anger bubbling.
"Fuck. Can't even rag on Yoo Shin-hwa. Muzzle time."
An Young-hee chucked his smartphone to the ground.
Half vent, half on purpose.
Sorcerer restart meant scrubbing traces.
PC with adult vids and secrets? Torched. Phone next—all worldly ties ash.
An Young-hee headed to new digs: Kim Cheol-su's workshop.
"Lemme see. Nearby, yeah?"
New phone and number planned, but Binding Demon intel shifted gears.
Kim Cheol-su's stash had burners and fakes.
"Here? Nah, here? Bingo."
Bedside drawer. Amid clothes: burners, fake IDs galore.
Passports tossed in.
ID and passport photo slots blank.
Channel Death Qi into patterned ID—An Young-hee's mug etched in.
Kim Cheol-su's gear? Trustworthy.
An Young-hee now a 34-year-old Ansan native.
Burner account names matched the fakes.
Not crude forgeries—overlaid on real records.
"Straight-up new ID?"
Kim Cheol-su moonlighting broker?
Fresh start jackpot for An Young-hee.
Test run: new account/card, phone activation.
ATM pull, bank hops to fund burner, homebound.
Dual IDs off Korea's grid now.
An Young-hee's next move?
Chat forum login.
Provocative title as ever.
Anon post.
Market.
He filed away its existence. And Chaos Demon King's name.
Blood Master not all sunshine either.
An Young-hee replied to Cheongsong Young Lord.
Ears perked at that one.
Dead-wrong info? Correction chain incoming. None.
Damn... brutally pragmatic advice.
An Young-hee locked in new life goals.
Secondary: Shrine up, doors open.
Primary? Locked from day one.
Find Mom in Purgatory Surface.