Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 008
Chapter Title: Fish Fall from the Purgatory Sky
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The city hall had turned into utter pandemonium.
Even the officials managing the spirit grass were sprinting toward the building in a frenzy.
Not just them—everyone nearby reacted the same way.
Ghosts were on the move too.
Amid the chaos, only the space around An Young-hee stayed eerily quiet.
Kim Se-yeon broke the silence.
"Let's hurry."
"Wait, did you say someone died? What the hell does that mean?"
"I'll explain on the way."
Kim Se-yeon took off at a brisk pace.
An Young-hee and the other four followed behind her.
She scattered talismans, and a translucent barrier formed overhead to shield their heads.
Then she began her explanation.
"The surface or the interior of the sun—which has higher temperatures and more intense activity?"
"Surface runs from five thousand to tens of thousands. Interior's in the millions to tens of millions."
The college kid answered.
"Purgatory Surface is the same. This is just the surface. If there's a surface, there's an interior. Power from deep inside can sometimes affect the surface. We call them Purgatory disasters. Grade 1... you're really unlucky. Might even have hellish energy mixed in."
The inside of city hall was a mess too.
People dashed around, shouting terms An Young-hee couldn't make sense of.
A few approached Kim Se-yeon, but she brushed them all off and led the group onward.
She stopped in front of a thick steel door in the corner of the second floor.
Magic circles covered it, plastered with talismans, and assorted instruments hanging above played a lonely tune on their own.
"This is the shelter. Don't come out until someone opens it from outside. And whatever you do, don't try returning to reality. Severing an unstable connection could leave you worse than dead."
Screeech.
The heavy steel door swung open.
Everyone filed into the shelter.
"Absolutely do not open it from inside. That just invites ghosts in."
The door slammed shut.
The sounds of multiple locks engaging from outside echoed through.
They tell us not to open it from in here, after locking it like that. As if a ghost might pick the locks or something.
'Oh, right. It probably could.'
This was Purgatory Surface, after all.
Inside the shelter were dim lights and a few crates of emergency rations.
Yoo Shin-hwa slumped against the wall first and tore into a bar-shaped ration pack.
"Grade 1 disasters only happened once in the last decade. Could drag on for months, so don't waste your energy."
"You're from this world, aren't you?"
The college kid asked Yoo Shin-hwa.
Yoo Shin-hwa fixed him with a murderous glare that made the kid shrink back in terror.
As the college kid retreated, Yoo Shin-hwa stared at the floor, his face twisted with self-loathing and inferiority.
"Tch. Who knows how long we'll be stuck. I'm telling you now so you don't keep bugging me. You heard it earlier, right? The emergence of Death Qi flipped the mystic system on its head."
"Yeah."
"Ever read any wuxia novels, mister?"
"Uh, no."
The college kid shook his head awkwardly.
The real ajusshi—who'd been sitting quietly—chimed in.
A man became an ajusshi after military service, sure, but this guy looked the part from the start.
The ajusshi spoke with hopeful eyes.
"Martial arts are real?"
"They used to be. You heard it—system's flipped. Martial arts, internal arts, what the West calls fighting styles. They all ran on vital energy. Mystic arts manifested through the body naturally required vital energy. Take in Death Qi and you die, right?"
"But we use Death Qi..."
"Not filling your marrow or every vein with it. Fill your body with Death Qi? That's a corpse. All orthodox martial clans collapsed."
"Purgatory Wiki mentioned sorcerers specializing in fisticuffs."
"Orthodox styles died out. Those who ditched orthodoxy to adapt survived. Demonic outliers relying on external aids."
Yoo Shin-hwa said while rummaging a canned drink from a box and chugging it.
"I'm the last heir clinging to orthodoxy out of spite. Poor as dirt, prideful, and powerless. So don't talk to me. Don't expect anything."
As if the whole conversation led to that, Yoo Shin-hwa clammed up, scanning each person with eyes laced with faint hostility.
An Young-hee met his gaze.
He stared back without flinching, and Yoo Shin-hwa looked away first.
"I'm O Jae-cheon. No clue how long we'll be here, but let's tough it out."
The introductions started with the ajusshi.
An Young-hee just gave his name.
College kid was Kim Yu-shin. The one gloomy woman was Im So-yeon.
No one mentioned jobs or hobbies.
'Stepping into Purgatory Surface means their lives were never ordinary.'
Being here meant cursed by someone, using sorcery yourself, or Deep Dive... a near-death experience.
Lives of people cursed or surviving near-death wouldn't match a normal person's.
One of them—college kid Kim Yu-shin—probably used sorcery directly to reach Purgatory Surface.
His studious vibe screamed it.
The type to experiment with the occult out of curiosity.
A smartphone would've been nice, but using a doll as medium left him bodiless here.
Over ten hours had passed for sure, but less than a day.
Yoo Shin-hwa jolted awake from dozing against the wall.
"Get off the wall!"
Before he finished, Kim Yu-shin and O Jae-cheon had already pulled away.
Boom!
The wall shattered, gale-force winds howling into the shelter.
"Open the door!"
"She said ghosts come in if we..."
"We can exorcise ghosts, but if that touches us, we're straight to hell!"
Hell-bound made Kim Yu-shin shove the door first. While Im So-yeon yelled about outside locks, An Young-hee watched the stormy scene outside.
A beat later, Yoo Shin-hwa and O Jae-cheon peered through the broken wall.
"What the hell is that?"
Regular-guy ajusshi O Jae-cheon gawked blankly at the sky.
"Fuck this shit. I don't even know what that is. We're so screwed. Totally fucked."
Yoo Shin-hwa spewed raw teenage profanity.
An Young-hee was purely awestruck.
A massive tornado sucked up an apartment complex into the sky.
Rain fell from the heavens mixed with all sorts of seafood; some got yanked into the twister, pulverizing civilization in the whipping winds.
Roooar—!
A whale the size of a building, spinning with the tornado, bellowed loud enough to reach city hall.
Yoo Shin-hwa—still cursing nonstop—shouted.
"Jump!"
"We're on the second floor...?"
"Fake bodies anyway!"
Yoo Shin-hwa shoved Kim Yu-shin.
Kim Yu-shin let out a short scream... that was it.
How far could a two-story drop be?
His cry was just "Argh! Squawk!"
The rest jumped one by one.
An Young-hee dropped next, with Yoo Shin-hwa last.
"What're you doing? Jump quick!"
An Young-hee bolted. Everyone else did too.
Yoo Shin-hwa deflected falling seafood with bizarre maneuvers.
They reached the city hall's main entrance on the first floor without a single casualty.
An official—one hand gripping a wooden staff, the other prayer beads—spotted them and yelled.
"Who the hell are you?!"
"...Program."
"What?"
"Beginner support program!"
The official's guard dropped at Yoo Shin-hwa's shout.
"Andong Yoo clan?"
Yoo Shin-hwa was infamous among Seoul city hall staff.
A famed house that steadily produced elites had fallen, its heir showing up every time for the beginner support program to snag freebies.
Few sorcery officials existed, and they all knew his name.
Yoo Shin-hwa swallowed his shame.
His impoverished clan taught him to always act honorably, no matter what.
That was his last shred of pride, joining the beginner program despite ditching his self-respect.
"Disaster hit during training. Shelter collapsed."
"Head to the library main gate, drop my name. Rest follow their orders."
An Young-hee memorized the name on the official's badge.
Namsan-hyung.
Another desperate sprint later, they reached the library entrance.
Same scene repeated.
Official asked who they were; Yoo Shin-hwa swallowed shame but opened the way with his name.
'Impressive.'
An Young-hee meant it.
Yoo Shin-hwa was eighteen at most, hot-tempered too.
At that age, with that personality, exposing his shame to save lives.
A famous internet quote came to mind.
Being born kind, or overcoming evil nature through effort—which is greater?
Compared to the outside—seafood raining amid storms and tornadoes—the library was nearly silent.
People ran right in front, others shouted, but no sound reached An Young-hee's ears.
"Let's go."
Yoo Shin-hwa led them deftly.
An Young-hee followed quietly.
After some typical official runaround, roles assigned.
"Head underground for support. Disaster's falling from the sky, so down there you won't drop dead."
City hall basement had sewers, where sorcerers clashed in the labyrinthine tunnels.
Hundreds of ghosts swarmed from the far end; sorcery officials and allied sorcerers countered.
The official's name: Ironclad.
Minus Kim Se-yeon, every official name so far was weird.
Not awkward, just not what parents typically name kids?
'Tied to their true names.'
True name matching birth name was a blessing, a talent.
Meaning folks with odd, mockable names by normal standards had higher odds of sorcery prowess.
Ironclad—forming hand seals and chanting—spotted Yoo Shin-hwa.
"Andong Yoo clan's Yoo Shin-hwa! Can you use martial arts?!"
"Not much power."
"Ghosts controlling weapons. Block those! Open a path if you can!"
Yoo Shin-hwa charged ahead.
Outline-only ghosts burst on contact with his hands.
The official pointed to a bag in the corner.
"Exorcism squad. You lot infuse Death Qi there. Stack finished talismans by me."
O Jae-cheon grabbed the bag quick.
Inside brimmed with talismans; Kim Yu-shin, O Jae-cheon, Im So-yeon, and An Young-hee all infused without prompting.
An Young-hee had no urge to stand out.
National disaster.
Nothing for newbie sorcerers. And drawing eyes could mean trouble.
An Young-hee recalled forum advice.
'Government's trustworthy most times.'
Meaning not during the exceptional cases.
"No telling what'll happen to me, so briefing now. Anti-government sorcerers attacking city hall amid the disaster. If it falls, run till disaster ends, then sever connection. Safest bet."
A voice echoed from the opposite side.
"You government dogs! What'd you do to Brother Cheol-su?!"
The official snarled back, fury mixed with annoyance.
"Why ask us about that bastard Kim Cheol-su?! When disaster ends, you're all wanted! Got it?!"
An Young-hee cursed inwardly.
'Fuck.'
Why was Kim Cheol-su popping up here?
"Who else but you could kill Brother Cheol-su without a trace?!"
"Told you, we don't know, you psycho! We'd hang a banner if we caught him!"
Sorcerers attacking city hall over Kim Cheol-su; Ironclad denying it.
Watching it unfold, An Young-hee felt a chill.
He didn't know what kind of man Kim Cheol-su was.
But unlikely he'd have loyal underlings risking lives for him.
If so, the guy would've mentioned them before dying.
"You Yanbian smugglers!"
Ironclad chanted; steel spikes erupted from the ground, skewering ghosts and filling the sewer.
Not ordinary sorcery—Ironclad sweated buckets, black smoke leaking from his body.
"Yoo Shin-hwa!"
Steel spikes cleared a path; Yoo Shin-hwa dashed through like the wind.
Knowing it wasn't the time, An Young-hee still asked Ironclad.
"They Chinese?"
Burning a talisman like a cigarette, Ironclad replied.
"Nationality's Chinese, but mystic identity's murky."
"Identity?"
"Built on Chinese sorcery base, mixed with Onmyodo from Japanese occupation. Korean War, they stole plenty of our sorcery too."
Inhaling Death Qi from the talisman, Ironclad formed seals again, face cold.
"Break's over. Back to talismans, please."
The sorcerer briefly possessing Kim Cheol-su's body.
His curse chant mixed Chinese.
Kim Cheol-su with no underlings.
Yanbian sorcerers claiming to be his crew.
Possessing spirit speaking Chinese.
The picture formed.
"What kind of sorcerer is Kim Cheol-su?"
Not Ironclad—a supporting civilian sorcerer answered.
"Big shot. Six years back, name blew up outta nowhere. Korea's top clans and corps hunted him, but he slipped 'em all. Toured the world building rep. Collects weird jujus globally—guy you wanna meet once."
Kim Cheol-su: elite sorcerer. The one stealing his body: leagues above.
Kim Cheol-su solo; but that guy?
Had a faction in life?
Waiting for master's revival, seeking signs.
Selling Kim Cheol-su's name as part of it.
Attack government in his name, leave him no place in Korea—forcing exile.
Find master, or if not, dismantle his Korean foothold. Sophisticated play.
'They're fast as hell.'
An Young-hee killed Kim Cheol-su less than 48 hours ago.
Incredible speed.
Problem: Government probes Kim Cheol-su, fallout hits An Young-hee too.
The whole sewer shook.
Death Qi wrapped the passage; white silhouettes burst through broken walls.
A colossal ghost gripped and rattled the sewer.
"A ghost that size?! You maniacs killed how many?! Rookies, over here!"
Ironclad hastily chanted and sealed, erecting a metal barrier. The sewer collapsed.
"Ajusshi!"
"Kid!"
Bonded already? Im So-yeon and O Jae-cheon called to An Young-hee.
An Young-hee feigned running to the barrier but tripped over jutting steel.
Rocks tumbled everywhere. Bone-crushers if they hit.
An Young-hee rolled onto his back, facing the ceiling.
He could see the Death Qi flows Yoo Shin-hwa used.
Death Qi forms phantom muscles and bones.
Channel along phantom bones and muscles in specific flows; simple moves yield massive power.
Classified as one system—an art learned through body, not rote spells.
No simple trick.
Yet somehow.
'Feels like I can do it.'
Strong certainty he could mimic the flow exactly.
An Young-hee clenched his fist lying down.
Recalled Yoo Shin-hwa's Death Qi flow, thrust arm at falling rock.
Rock shattered outward.
'Attack secured.'
An Young-hee rose.
Eyed the Yanbian sorcerers' direction.
Let them rampage, government's reach hits him too.
"Gotta kill 'em."
Shut their mouths.