An Unexpected Surge of Karma
His mind was a tangled storm by the time he reached the studio apartment and stepped through the door.
All manner of wild imaginings swirled through him, forcing Han Yujin to traverse the night streets—which should have felt peaceful—with a thread of tension running beneath his skin.
This is reality.
The knowledge that there were no second chances, that death would not simply deposit him back in bed, made him instinctively more cautious. That wariness followed him even after he entered the apartment.
He drew the curtains, killed the lights, and powered on the computer. The inbox he checked remained empty, deepening the sense of foreboding.
The odds of simple negligence or them running off with the payment are almost zero.
This was an outfit with a proper office in the heart of Seoul’s bustling center. The reviews made clear it had been operating for more than a year or two; its reputation was solid, the volume and quality of past reports excellent. The sum he had entrusted them with was hardly large enough to tempt anyone into absconding.
Something had gone wrong.
Of course, it might not be the cult that had harmed them. A family emergency, a sudden hospitalization with no time to notify clients—such things were possible.
No.
If that were the case, they would have contacted their clients. Three days had already passed.
What if the director himself had an accident?
Even that seemed unlikely. Unless every employee of the detective agency had been incapacitated at once, someone would have followed up in the team leader’s absence.
Could those cult fanatics have actually kidnapped them? The entire staff?
The harder he tried to apply common sense, the more the anomalies stood out. Yet the idea that the cult had truly done something still refused to fit inside any rational frame.
Laying hands on multiple people would create ripples too large to contain. This was not some lawless corner of South America where gangs ran unchecked. No matter how fanatical, the cult could not be ignorant of the consequences.
If they acted anyway, there must have been a reason compelling enough to justify the risk…
Once again, the image of Ghost Wonhee rose unbidden in his mind.
She would be less than ten years old now. She could have no connection whatsoever to Yeongwon High School or the cult. Even if some tenuous link existed, her age would place her far from this incident.
Am I being too wary of that cult?
Objectively, it was nothing more than an obscure pseudo-religion. In the ruined future Earth, its only notable feature had been the powerful ghost haunting that school.
Subjectively, however, he could not simply let the matter pass.
Wonhee was not an existence one could dismiss with the casual thought that a strong ghost had simply been there.
That’s why I commissioned the investigation. Because it seemed I could obtain Karma with money.
He would earn plenty of money in the days to come, and any location destined to spawn such a powerful ghost in the future likely held significance. The fact that the school’s backer was a cult ripe for suspicion had made the choice obvious.
So he had placed the request.
The possibility that the cult might be connected to the outbreak and progression of the global Ghost Apocalypse had been little more than a vague “what if.”
Yet now this problem had appeared.
There were too many unknowns and no avenue for further information. The more he pondered it, the more knotted his thoughts became.
Let’s simplify. What matters most right now?
His own safety, without question.
Is there any chance I’m in danger?
If the cult was irrational and reckless enough to move against an entire detective agency, then the man who had hired that agency could not claim to be safe. The contract bearing his name, contact information, and address was still in their files.
Have I fallen into paranoia?
On the surface, only the daily reports had stopped. The target was merely a cult, not a criminal syndicate. Yet he alone knew what others did not: how terrifyingly powerful a ghost would one day take root in a place tied to that religion on the ruined Earth. That single fact was reason enough for vigilance.
Perhaps even now, while he sat here worrying, the agency staff were enduring unimaginable torment. Their lives might already be slipping away.
Han Yujin picked up his smartphone.
It was well past midnight, but after a brief hesitation he brought up the number of his assigned officer at the Ability Management Bureau, finger hovering over the call button.
“Huu…”
It felt like suddenly noticing severe chest pain and wondering whether it was the prelude to a heart attack. Calling emergency services seemed both troublesome and embarrassing if it turned out to be nothing. Reason suggested the odds were low, yet ignoring the feeling left him uneasy.
I’d rather be a fool than dead.
He pressed the call button without further delay.
Even if this proves to be a stupid mistake, I can just kick the blankets later and be done with it.
Despite the hour, the call connected.
"Yes, this is Officer Kang Min-ah."
“This is Han Yujin. I apologize for calling so late. The reason I’m contacting you is…”
Han Yujin chose his words carefully and began to explain the situation.
He glossed over exactly how he had learned of the cult and why he had commissioned the investigation, framing it as a personal matter tied to an acquaintance. He was equally vague about why he considered the group dangerous.
Fortunately, the officer did not press him. Nor did she respond as though he were being ridiculous.
"First, I recommend you avoid going outside. Please remain vigilant about your safety."
“Yes, I intend to do exactly that.”
"Please send the materials you mentioned through messenger or email. I’ll review them right away."
“I’m truly sorry for bothering you at this hour.”
"Not at all. You must have good reason to be this concerned, Mr. Han. Even if nothing comes of it, caution never hurts."
Those words lifted the heavy knot that had been tightening in his chest. Han Yujin thanked her several more times, ended the call, and sent over every document the detective agency had provided.
Then came the quiet wait inside the studio. He sat in silence, waiting for the officer’s follow-up.
Roughly an hour later, the messenger notification arrived.
A chill crawled across his skin. Relief that his judgment had been correct warred with worry for the missing investigators as he typed his reply. The officer’s next message followed quickly.
“The tactical unit?”
The news left him stunned. Without the Ability Management Bureau’s involvement, such swift and decisive action would never have materialized. He had not expected the Korean police to move this quickly.
At least the tactical unit’s deployment brought some measure of relief. The only remaining concern was the slim chance that a few deranged cultists had already begun moving toward him.
Even though he possessed the power of an A-rank hunter, his experience through awakening had taught him never to let down his guard.
An A-rank hunter is nothing but a speck of dust in the greater scheme of things. Better safe than sorry.
With a mixture of tension and the strange thrill of feeling like the protagonist of a spy thriller, he scanned the surroundings using his spiritual sight. He could observe the outside world without touching the curtains and even peer through walls to a limited degree.
Fortunately, no suspicious signs appeared nearby. Another thirty minutes passed in watchful silence.
Han Yujin’s eyes widened.
Drugs…?
The word instantly called to mind old community posts about a healer hunter arrested for narcotics and the blood test he himself had undergone during his awakening examination. He had dismissed it all as someone else’s problem.
At that exact moment—
“Huh…?”
A strange, overwhelming sensation surged through him. He let out a reflexive sound.
It was Karma.
An enormous quantity—easily three or four times the amount he had originally possessed—poured into him from some unknown source.
Receiving an unexpected flood of Karma was undeniably good news. The arrest of criminals operating what the authorities had labeled a “large-scale” drug manufacturing facility inside Korea was also unequivocally positive.
The recent surge in drug-related incidents might finally subside.
Yet the detective agency staff were never found. They had vanished without a trace, as though they had evaporated.
Not only them—the cult’s high-ranking core members had disappeared like ghosts alongside the investigators.
They must have been discovered by the agency while operating the drug lab, silenced them, then fled once they realized the situation would escalate. The manufacturing facility was caught in the middle of being relocated.
That was the only interpretation that fit.
Over the following days, more details emerged.
The assigned officer continued to share critical information with Han Yujin, treating him as a major stakeholder. The data was far more precise than anything available through public news.
The cult’s official name was the Eternal Goddess Cult. It had not originated in Korea but had flowed in from China.
Accordingly, the National Police Agency, the narcotics division, and other government bodies planned to share intelligence with China’s public security bureau and customs authorities to request joint operations.
If they had been manufacturing drugs here, they were almost certainly doing the same in China. Standard procedure when confronting an international narcotics organization.
In the meantime, no threat approached Han Yujin.
It seemed the cult—or rather, the international drug cartel it had become—had no appetite for pointless retaliation. With their entire leadership in flight, they likely lacked the resources even if they had wished to try.
Yet even while continuing his routine—hunter preliminary education and the rest—Han Yujin could not find peace.
He remained uncertain whether he would truly stay safe. If the cult was merely a drug ring, he could not fathom the source of Ghost Wonhee’s overwhelming power. The likelihood that the investigators had all been killed weighed heavily on his heart.
The officer’s assurance that he would receive a substantial reward as an informant brought little comfort.
That Yeongwon High might end up changing its name.
On his way home late that evening, the idle thought crossed his mind, and with it came sudden clarity.
If he was anxious about future safety, the answer was to grow stronger. If he wanted to uncover Ghost Wonhee’s true nature, the answer was to grow stronger. If he wished to avenge the vanished investigators, the answer was still to grow stronger.
Everything, in the end, could be solved by gaining power.
And for the time being, he would not lack Karma.
It was time to resume the training in the Primordial Forest that had been interrupted.