Interlude (1): Fate's Black Thread
At the branch manager's warning, I twisted my lips into a smirk.
"That's a relief."
"......Pardon?"
"Safety nets just dull the blade. Makes it uncomfortable to wield. Since I'm paying top coin for this, it better be razor-sharp."
Jagan's lips peeled back nearly to his ears at my response.
Jagan stepped closer, whispering in a sly undertone.
"I'll take that as a compliment."
Jagan bowed deeply with refined courtesy. Whether being acknowledged by a monster was cause for joy, I couldn't say—but at least he'd pegged me as a 'business partner.' That was satisfying enough.
The deal was done. Time to collect the goods.
But first, one last check.
"One thing I'm curious about."
"What happened to the other five?"
The remaining participants whose signals cut out after we split on the first floor. What became of them?
Jagan answered lightly to my question.
"Roles?"
Jagan kindly pointed downward with a finger.
"......No thanks. I'll pass."
I waved him off, furrowing my brow. Just imagining it turned my stomach.
"Negotiations are over. Let's wrap up the deal."
Jagan stepped back, clearing space.
I extended my right hand into the void.
"Hellgate open."
Whoooong—!
Space screamed. The air my fingertips touched tore like paper.
Crackkk.
A rift split reality, manifesting a colossal door before my eyes. Crimson-black abyss. Within yawned a void of pure nothingness.
Jagan gazed in rapture. He yielded to the massive emptiness without resistance.
Ku-gu-gu-gu—.
The Hellgate unleashed tremendous suction. The opulent VIP lounge's furniture on the sixth floor, the masterpieces on the walls, the ghost story's lingering aura—all dissolved into black smoke and funneled inside.
Jagan's body frayed into mist, drawn inexorably in. With a final, courteous bow toward me,
Shooooaaaak—!
With those words, Jagan's form fully dissolved into black smoke, swallowed by the Hellgate.
"Whew."
I dusted off my hands and sealed the gate. As the crimson-black fissure vanished, the surroundings shifted like a lie.
The department store lobby, shrouded in darkness. Though I'd been on the sixth floor moments ago, with the ghost story's space lifted, I was back on reality's first floor.
"......Back."
Beyond the main entrance's glass, garish lights flashed wildly.
Weeeeng— weeeeng—!
Red and blue emergency beacons. Headlights from dozens of vehicles pierced the dim interior.
"People inside! Survivors spotted!"
"Move in! Medical team, stand by!"
Megaphone blasts and urgent shouts echoed from outside. Rescue teams had arrived.
I rubbed my dry face, composing my expression. Time to slip back into my everyday self.
"......P-please... save me."
With a terrified look, I staggered toward the light-flooded exit.
My long, grueling department store shopping spree was finally over.
Outside Hwarong Department Store, chaos reigned. Beyond the yellow barricade tape, reporters shoved cameras forward, shouting, while police held them back bodily.
Han Jun-hyun of the Anomaly Management Team turned his back on the noisy scene, phone to his ear on a secure line.
"Yes, Director. Han Jun-hyun speaking."
A heavy silence preceded the deep voice from the receiver.
DIRECTOR:Report.
"A ghost story manifested inside Hwarong Department Store without precursors. The interior warped into a twisted space, resulting in multiple casualties. Current survivors: four."
Han Jun-hyun reported without emotion.
DIRECTOR:Han Suho was the key figure in clearing this ghost story, correct?
He seemed to have grasped the situation via live broadcast already.
DIRECTOR:What did you make of him on-site?
"You saw the broadcast too, Director. Without him, survivors would've been zero."
Han Jun-hyun replied with conviction.
"Incredible instinct for grasping rules. Steel nerves that hold amid terror. Exactly the talent our team needs."
DIRECTOR:Sharp indeed. I concede.
A positive response. But cold critique followed swiftly.
DIRECTOR:But the flaw: F-rank hunter.
"......"
DIRECTOR:Even recruited, his combat power's negligible. Suited only for rule-based ghost stories. But fieldwork brings variables.
The director's analysis was ice-cold. Ghost stories demanded brains, yes—but minimal force for contingencies. An F-rank's physique couldn't protect teammates; it'd be a burden.
DIRECTOR:Drawbacks outweigh strengths. And he didn't save everyone.
"That's......"
DIRECTOR:Recruitment on hold. Build a loose collaboration instead. Consultant level for emergencies.
Han Jun-hyun bit his lip. Undeniable reality. Ranks were the absolute measure of a hunter's worth.
If only Suho's rank were a bit higher......
He swallowed deep regret inwardly.
Then, the director issued orders.
DIRECTOR:Probe casually when you can. How does he unravel complex rules so fast?
DIRECTOR:Beyond sharp—there's know-how. Uncover it.
Han Jun-hyun nodded. Truth be told, that puzzled him most.
DIRECTOR:Good work. Return and file the report.
"Understood."
Click. Call ended.
Han Jun-hyun sighed shortly and headed toward the scene.
As he vanished, a rustle came from behind a building pillar.
"......"
Kang Chae-young, in modified hanbok, emerged from cover. She narrowed her eyes at Han Jun-hyun's retreating figure.
"Hmm, 'collaboration,' huh."
She scoffed.
Management Team's got no eye for talent.
F-rank? Physical shortcomings? Mere shells.
The Han Suho she'd seen defied such metrics.
Oppa Suho... he's the real deal.
She rewound memories of the department store. Amid the slaughter, his eerie calm—like another world. Rule-cracking speed was chilling.
That's why she'd played along deliberately. Backing his deductions subtly, ensuring no one questioned. As a shaman fully trusting and supporting him, others would follow without protest.
"Whew."
Kang Chae-young licked her lips slowly.
The more I learn, the less I know.
All the more alluring. No one stirred curiosity like an inscrutable man.
She whispered to the air.
"Spirits. What do you think?"
Silent void. But her eyes caught something.
"Is Oppa Suho... the 'nobleman' I've sought? The man with the blank fate."
Then, faint light flickered in the emptiness.
Affirmation.
Kang Chae-young's eyes gleamed.
"......Knew it."
Her lips curled.
Truth was, she wasn't one for cheap haunted broadcasts.
Her sole reason for joining: one prophecy.
'Fate's black thread.'
The spirits' divination led her here. Moon Shadow Society's destiny intertwined with one bearing pitch-black darkness.
That shadow could devour them—a perilous pit.
Yet only by stepping willingly into its depths could true light be grasped. A path as dangerous as it was seductive.
She'd bolted from home, auditioned for the show, chasing that clue.
And found it.
"Came to the right place. For real."
Kang Chae-young pulled out her smartphone. The screen showed Han Suho's contact, saved recently.
Not under 'Han Suho.'
[Void]
Empty, yet fillable with anything—a hazardous fate.
Her thumb caressed the screen softly.
"This'll be fun."