The Mirror of Sacrifice
In the dim classroom, amid scattered bloodstains and fragments of corpses that had been hastily cleared away, they had created a makeshift resting place.
The two of them took turns catching what little sleep they could, barely restoring their stamina. Now it was Han Yujin’s turn to stand guard while Lee Won-hee slept.
The only reason they had endured this long was the immense power of Yeonwon-ryeok—the power of fervent wish.
Yeonwon-ryeok. A versatile force that seemed capable of granting nearly any desire.
With it, they had evaded the ghosts’ senses, found places to hide, substituted for meals, and recovered stamina, mental strength, and injuries. Thanks to that, they had survived for a full fifteen days without any external help.
But like everything in this world, Yeonwon-ryeok was not omnipotent. If they kept forcing it out without proper rest, it would eventually run dry.
Both he and Lee Won-hee had now reached their limit.
“···Sunbae.”
Even in her sleep, Lee Won-hee muttered incoherently, her face deathly pale as if trapped in a nightmare. Watching her, Han Yujin felt an agony that tore at his heart—an overwhelming despair.
He had never imagined he would feel this much emotional pain at the sight of her like this.
‘······Yeah. When did it come to this?’
Objectively speaking, the time since he had met Lee Won-hee and begun looking after her wasn’t all that long. Yet bonds of fate did not always deepen or grow important in direct proportion to time spent together.
In a way different from romantic affection between man and woman, Lee Won-hee had already become an irreplaceably important person in his life.
If this child grew up and saved many people, it would be an achievement equal to his own. For someone who had lived half-heartedly, chasing nothing more than wealth and honor, it was the greatest meaning his life had ever held.
And it wasn’t only for that reason.
Someone had once said that affection is returned in the measure it is given.
What had begun as mere pity and a slight sense of moral duty had grown deeper the more he watched her gain vitality, shine brilliantly, and become a greater person with each act of care. The more she showed him boundless trust and affection, the more she looked to him with expectation—the more she had become someone truly irreplaceable in his life.
Even if the day came when Lee Won-hee was no longer an S-class hunter, his attitude toward her would not change. He was not a sociopath who measured people solely by their utility.
Simply knowing that someone trusted him with their whole heart was enough to bring profound comfort to his life.
That was precisely why it was so painful to watch her suffer like this. The fact that he had no way to resolve this situation filled him with utter despair.
‘If only······ if only I had been an S-class hunter too······.’
If his Yeonwon-ryeok had been as strong as her darkness, he might still have been full of vigor. Perhaps he could have even destroyed this labyrinth phenomenon and escaped.
Of course, the outside world was also in the midst of a catastrophic disaster, but at least it wouldn’t be as relentlessly cruel and oppressive as this place.
“Ugh···.”
Lee Won-hee groaned again.
Whatever nightmare she was having, her complexion was truly terrible. Yet knowing she hadn’t managed more than snatches of sleep for days, he couldn’t bring himself to wake her.
If she didn’t rest even a little more in this shelter, there was no telling when they would be able to make another one.
‘······This might be our last rest.’
He closed his eyes for a moment and examined his own condition.
It was something he had done several times before, but this time he did it with an entirely different mindset.
His face twisted in pain much like Lee Won-hee’s in her nightmare. Realizing there was almost no time left to hesitate, he let out a small but deep sigh.
‘At this rate, we’ll both die anyway.’
It was truly the limit.
A limit is called a limit precisely because it cannot be overcome by willpower alone. In a situation like this, there was no chance of some unexpected stroke of luck appearing.
He made up his mind.
“Won-hee.”
Strangely, though the decision had been so difficult, once his heart was set, he felt remarkably calm and resolute.
Even though he only shook her gently a few times, Lee Won-hee jolted awake and sat bolt upright.
“Wh-what is it···?”
“We need to talk. It’s important.”
She shook her head a few times, trying to clear her mind.
“What is it?”
“Your awakening ability—you can select and absorb the abilities of the ghosts you kill, right?”
She looked slightly startled but nodded obediently.
She had revealed it several times before without hiding it, and during the desperate fifteen days of hiding and fleeing, she had been forced to show that side of herself repeatedly. There was no point in denying it now.
“Then you should be able to absorb human abilities just as well.”
“Uh··· yes, probably.”
“From what I saw before, no matter how weak the absorbed ability was, it seemed to manifest at a level appropriate to your own strength.”
“That’s right.”
For example, there was the ability to move through shadows.
It was clearly an ability she hadn’t originally possessed, yet roughly nine days ago, after killing a ghost that could do so, Lee Won-hee had become able to melt into shadows and move through them.
And she did it far faster and more smoothly than the original ghost—on a level truly worthy of an S-class hunter.
“There’s some kind of··· spirituality in your darkness, isn’t there? Is that why?”
“Yes. The principle is···.”
He listened to her explanation for a moment before nodding that it was enough.
“Won-hee.”
“···Yes.”
Sensing something ominous, she answered cautiously. Han Yujin smiled at her. Just as he was about to speak—
— Krrgh··· krrgh···!
The presence of a ghost came from outside the classroom. It wasn’t merely passing by; it had clearly picked up their scent.
‘Just as well.’
He swallowed the words he had been about to say, quietly stood up, and gripped his sword. At his feet, thick darkness began to spread from Lee Won-hee as she rose as well.
Han Yujin looked at her for a moment, then spoke.
“No matter what happens, you must survive, Won-hee. If you live somehow, even if I die, it will have meaning.”
“Don’t say such ominous things.”
“If you break down and give up, the only one who wins is the monster that put us in this situation. You know that, right?”
“···Sunbae, why are you saying things like···?”
As she asked again—
— Kyaaaah—!
Bang—!!
The ghost finally saw through the concealment of Yeonwon-ryeok and smashed through the classroom door.
After that, it was the same as always—battle and flight.
The sword wrapped in Yeonwon-ryeok that had grown faint by now sliced the ghost apart, while the darkness spread only in the minimum range necessary tore apart other ghosts and absorbed tiny amounts of their power.
Lee Won-hee quickly selected the special ‘abilities’ that were occasionally absorbed along with the power. Most had to be discarded, but every now and then there were some worth keeping.
And so.
After they had repelled yet another wave of ghosts and were almost clear of them—
“There’s no need to blame yourself, Won-hee. I’ve truly reached my limit. This is the best choice for us, so I’m doing this of my own will.”
Suddenly those words came from Han Yujin behind her, and at the same time, part of her darkness slipped beyond her control and began to writhe violently.
“Eh···?!”
She had never lost control of her ability like this except when she was very young. The moment she spun around in shock—
She saw Han Yujin standing there, smiling at her.
Together with the multicolored glow of Yeonwon-ryeok and the darkness that, influenced by that power, had betrayed its master’s will and was now rushing toward him.
In his final moment, he tried to say something more to Lee Won-hee. But true to the power of an S-class hunter, once the darkness had broken free, it was terrifyingly fast and strong.
Crunch—!!
A horrifying sound like thunder rang in his ears, and for an instant he felt excruciating pain. But fortunately, everything quickly sank into a warm darkness and soon became peaceful.
He thought he heard a piercing scream in that last moment, and it hurt his heart······.
‘I’m sorry, Won-hee······.’
This really was the best option.
If he intentionally caused the very ‘accident’ that had made her come to hate her own awakening ability, he believed she would achieve her goal even if she refused it with all her heart.
‘If you gain my Yeonwon-ryeok as well, you might be able to escape and survive.’
With that final thought, he lost consciousness.
Han Yujin has died.
* * *
He suddenly came to his senses.
He had definitely thought he was dead, but he immediately realized that wasn’t the case.
‘···Right. That’s right. Ghost Wonhee told me to prove it.’
He recalled the original memories that had been forcibly suppressed for a while.
He was not A-class hunter Han Yujin. He was Nascent Soul investigator Han Yujin. It was as if he had been hit by the Dream Illusion Mind Snatching Art; he had simply forgotten himself for a moment and faithfully played the role he had been given.
The background and characters had all been false, but the way he had chosen and acted while facing that situation and those people was all real.
‘To think I was someone who could make that kind of sacrifice······.’
He was surprised at himself anew, yet he wondered if this was proof enough to change Wonhee’s heart. Could there be a more perfect ‘good sunbae’ than this?
Just as he tried to gather his thoughts a little more—
He instinctively realized the situation was not yet over.
For some unknown reason, he felt as if a ‘mirror’ had been placed directly in front of his perception. It was so large and pristine that once he noticed it, he could not look away.
Moreover, the mirror was not simply reflecting an image.
What it showed were the events that had unfolded after he had chosen to sacrifice himself.
‘······Why?’
Hadn’t Wonhee thrown him into an illusion simply to test him and make him prove himself?
— No···! No···!!
Strangely.
Truly strangely.
Wonhee herself seemed to have forgotten everything and was treating the situation as real, screaming in despair.
— Sunbae···! No···!! Why···!! Why on earth···!!
She wailed in a voice that seemed to tear her throat apart, frantically groping at the spot where Han Yujin had been devoured and erased by her own darkness. As if doing so could somehow pull him back out from where he had already been consumed.
It was not an act or a performance. It was real.
Just like Han Yujin himself, Wonhee had clearly come to believe the entire situation and all the people in it were real.
‘Why?’
To show him?
The moment that question formed, he immediately realized it was not the case.
Wooong···!
The mirror that was showing the scene resonated faintly.
Suddenly he realized the mirror before his eyes was familiar. It was not radiating the brilliant light it had back then, but it was unmistakably the same object.
The thing deep underground on Earth that periodically emitted massive roars to repel ghosts. Even though he had only glimpsed it, he had somehow felt it was a ‘door.’
‘Why is this······ here, right in front of my eyes?’
Even as he questioned it, the scenes reflected in the mirror continued.
It did not merely convey images and sounds. It was as if he had become the person inside the mirror; he could vividly feel every thought and emotion.
She truly believed everything was real.
Therefore, she was in utter despair and grief over Han Yujin’s sudden, silent sacrifice. The pain of her heart being ripped to shreds was so vivid he could feel it himself.
He was forcibly, intensely drawn into the scene within the mirror.
* * *
Even as she wailed, Lee Won-hee frantically accepted the Yeonwon-ryeok he had passed on to her by sacrificing himself. If she did not accept it, it would soon dissipate.
She could never allow that to happen.
Yet the moment she accepted it, the realization that the situation could no longer be reversed caused a scream to burst from her throat of its own accord.
“Why···!!”
Why.
“Sunbae··· why···!!”
You knew perfectly well I would never want this.
And after doing this, you tell me to live?
This is the best choice? That you did this on your own so I shouldn’t blame myself?
“Why on earth··· how could you···!!”
Her screams turned into choking sobs as she collapsed onto the floor where he had vanished. She pressed her forehead to the ground and rubbed her face against it as if it were Han Yujin’s embrace.
Like every other place, the floor was covered in blood, and her hands and body—already stained from groping across it—became utterly drenched in it as well.
But none of that mattered to her right now.
The fact that he, her sunbae, had vanished from this world irreversibly had stripped all meaning from everything else.
Her mind accepted the truth, but her heart could not. It felt as though some part of her soul had broken beyond repair.
“Sunbae, please··· I was wrong, please come back···! I was wrong···! I was wrong so please···!!”
She wailed until she could barely breathe, not even knowing what she was saying.
The ghosts that had almost been shaken off came rushing in at the commotion, but the darkness that had already slipped beyond her control tore them apart, crushed them, and killed them on its own.
“Please··· sunbae, don’t abandon me··· don’t abandon me, please···!!”
He had been the first true guardian she had ever met in her life.
More trustworthy than her worthless parents, warmer than the grandmother who had cared for her yet always kept a certain distance.
For the first time.
Truly for the first time, he had been her one and only real family.
At the same time, he was the only person she had ever loved enough to die for.
“Sunbae··· how am I supposed to··· how am I supposed to live now······!”
Her strength gave out and she convulsed before finally going still where she lay.
Even then, the endless onslaught of ghosts and the noise of the darkness instinctively fighting them was deafening, as if it would tear her eardrums apart.
Yet Lee Won-hee could hear nothing.
“Why······ sunbae······ please······.”
She didn’t know how long she had been muttering like a broken person when—
She felt a strand of Yeonwon-ryeok bloom.
The unique power of the one who had been her only true guardian, the person she loved so much that she would have given him anything if only he asked.
If she had known it would come to this, she would not have hesitated so much.
If she had known, she would have answered honestly when he asked what her wish was at the Bosingak bell-ringing event.
If she had known, she would have pestered him to do everything she wanted, would have thanked him every single day without putting it off, and would have confessed that she loved him.
She would have held his hand without pretending to be shy, would have buried her face in his chest and acted spoiled as much as she wanted.
Now······.
It was all too late.
The Yeonwon-ryeok poured strength into her utterly exhausted body. It seemed to gently wrap around and heal the part of her heart that had broken.
Her mind understood it perfectly.
They had both truly reached their limit. This had been the best choice. Since she would never have allowed or accepted it in words, this had been the only way to pass the power on.
She slowly rose to her feet.
Covered head to toe in blood, the tears streaming down her face mixing with it until she looked as if she were crying tears of blood.
She blankly looked around, then began to control the darkness that had been rampaging completely out of control.
The previously savage darkness instantly gained structure and began slaughtering the ghosts far more quickly and efficiently. Then, using the Yeonwon-ryeok that had now become her own power, she concealed her presence and staggered forward.
The power of Yeonwon-ryeok unleashed at the level of an S-class hunter was truly tremendous.
She had not gone far before the ghosts lost track of her and began to wander. No longer needing to fight, she continued walking unsteadily in her dazed state, moving exactly as she had done until now.
Just as her sunbae had guided her all this time.
Since the people outside would never easily give up on one of Korea’s few S-class hunters, a rescue team would surely come eventually. She moved in search of another resting place so she could endure until then.
She had wanted to watch movies together.
She had secretly practiced cooking so she could proudly make something for him.
She had stayed up all night searching for travel destinations on her phone, imagining how wonderful it would be to go on a trip together.
There had been so many other things she wanted to do with him—things she wanted to experience and create memories from.
She continued to stagger forward, silently shedding tears of blood. She didn’t even know where she was going, but she simply walked, searching for any place that seemed safe.
A ghost brushed past right beside her, yet astonishingly it did not notice her at all. Before, she would have been detected long before it got this close.
Then, at some point—
A voice spoke.
Lee Won-hee, who had been walking while staring only at the floor ahead, slowly lifted her head to look at the speaker.
The unidentified woman was now standing only a few steps away, smiling with satisfaction as she gazed at her with eyes mixed with darkness and the color of blood.
— The final tempering remains, child.
The instant the words ended—before Lee Won-hee could reflexively manipulate her darkness to attack—
A fingertip she hadn’t even seen approach lightly touched her forehead.
With an explosion, the sensation of her head shattering into pieces and her body collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut was the last thing she felt before infinite darkness swallowed her and stole away all perception.
Immediately afterward, a terrifying cold descended.
At the same time, she felt something incredibly precious and warm flowing out of her already-dead self and drifting away.
— No······!
The only light that illuminated this horribly frightening and cold darkness was moving away.
Something vitally important that had constituted her very being—an essence infused with her endless love and memories of sunbae Han Yujin.
The most precious thing she had left was rapidly moving away.
— Don’t go······!
She cried out and began to run.
She didn’t even know whether her already-dead self could run inside this darkness, yet she struggled with all her might to chase after it.
— I’m here······! I’m right here, so don’t go······!
She kept running.
But no matter how much she ran, she could not catch up to the light that was drifting away.
The unbearably cold darkness wrapped around her entire body, restraining her and preventing her from following properly.
— No······! Please, please······!
No matter how she tried to shake off the restraint and chase after it, the light only moved away faster and faster.
And so.
Just before the light completely vanished into the distance.
As she was engulfed by overwhelming despair, screaming in terror at the thought of being left alone forever in this endlessly cold and infinite darkness—
Han Yujin, who had been feeling every one of her emotions as vividly as his own, struggling with the same fear and pain, finally reached out his hand.
At the same time, countless mysterious runes of indescribable hue rose from the oval mirror’s frame and began to swirl. His outstretched hand passed through the mirror’s surface—which should have been impossible to penetrate—without any resistance.
The instant he caught the tiny orb of light that had been about to disappear—
The countless runes swirling around the mirror’s edge exploded with light all at once, dyeing everything in brilliant radiance.
An enormous amount of Karma began to be consumed at a terrifying speed.