The Absolute's Shadow
Park Seryong had stepped out of the Great Rift for a while. He had expected it would take at least a few more days—perhaps even half a month—before any news emerged regarding Han Yujin’s activities.
And when the news finally arrived, it was nothing short of shocking. So much so that every high-ranking official who received the related intelligence had doubted its authenticity multiple times.
Inside his quarters within the defensive facility just outside the Great Rift, Park Seryong stared at the tablet again and again, feeling an emotion he couldn’t quite distinguish between excitement and fear.
Chinese Standing Committee Member eliminated in a single day… without leaving any trace?
Not only had Han Yujin taken out that one man, he had completely annihilated every key figure involved along with an entire faction of the violent criminal organization known as the Bloodscale Society—hundreds of members—without leaving a single trace.
If Han Yujin had not already made contact with the National Intelligence Service and received their information in advance, no one in the world would have been able to guess who was responsible.
China, based on its population, possessed far more S-class hunters than Korea. Due to political instability, most of those S-class hunters were scattered across the country, assigned to guard important figures or suppress unstable factions.
In other words, Han Yujin had pierced through surveillance and protection that included those very S-class hunters and accomplished all of this in a single day. It was an act that far surpassed the level of power Park Seryong had imagined him to possess.
‘If he wanted to, he could kill anyone in this world without leaving a trace.’
Moreover, the way the Bloodscale Society members had died forced even darker imaginings.
‘He might even be able to freely dominate other people’s minds.’
If he could make them commit such horrifying acts of self-mutilation before dying, making them obey him would be even easier, wouldn’t it?
Park Seryong had already concluded that this probably wasn’t the case for himself, but one could never be entirely certain. Perhaps every act of assistance he had given Han Yujin so far had been under the influence of some mental manipulation.
‘If he can be eliminated… he must be eliminated at all costs.’
But that seemed impossible. Unless, of course, they caught him off guard and bombed his location with missiles.
Naturally, that was something Korea could never do. How could they justify firing missiles into their own city center just to kill their own S-class hunter? It would be utter madness.
‘However, if the United States or China ever learn the truth… if their highest officials discover the full extent of Han Yujin’s power…’
They might very well choose to destroy Korea entirely if it meant preventing the emergence of an Absolute.
Therefore, while Korea trembled in fear, they could not carelessly share this information with anyone. The range of actions they could take was extremely limited.
The top priority, of course, was to win him over.
Fortunately, Han Yujin had shown a rather patriotic side so far, and after gathering information from those around him, Park Seryong felt relatively little cause for concern.
In relation to this, Park Seryong had already received a secret request from the government. Had it not been for that request, he would never have received such critical and detailed information so quickly.
In truth, even without such a request, Park Seryong suspected he would have acted similarly on his own.
Finally setting aside his hesitation, he manipulated his smartphone and placed a call to Han Yujin.
Had it not been for the missed call log and message from Park Seryong, he would have immediately used his ability again to check on the future state of Earth.
Wondering what the matter was, he returned the call. About thirty minutes after inviting him to the safe house to speak in person, Park Seryong arrived with surprising speed, as if he had rushed straight over.
Throughout their greeting and while settling onto the living room sofa, Park Seryong carried a subtly tense air about him.
His expression and demeanor were perfectly natural, but as a consummate investigator, Han Yujin could read his condition through his heartbeat and the emotions sensed via the Six Paths of Reincarnation.
Since no beverages had been prepared, he poured the contents of a spiritual wine bottle into a cup and offered it. Park Seryong accepted it with casual thanks and took a sip. A flash of astonishment crossed his face.
“This is alcohol.”
“It’s good for the body.”
Thanks to that, Park Seryong’s tension seemed to ease slightly.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Han Yujin asked directly.
“So, what brings you here?”
Park Seryong hesitated, struggling to speak. Only after Han Yujin waited patiently without pressing him did he finally ask, extremely cautiously.
“What is your true purpose… if I may ask?”
“My true purpose? You mean regarding this world, I suppose?”
“Yes. What you did in China…”
“It seems you’ve already heard everything. You really do have quite the network.”
Han Yujin spoke lightly, but suddenly pinpointed something he had overlooked. Even while observing the man’s attitude and various other clues as an investigator, he had failed to notice it until now.
“Did I unintentionally threaten you?”
Park Seryong let out a short, low sound before nodding.
“Even for someone like me who has been in contact with you, this situation feels this way. I imagine others are taking it far more seriously.”
“It couldn’t be helped. Those bastards had already betrayed Earth and were planning to bring about the apocalypse in a little over a decade.”
“…You’re talking about that world of ghosts, then.”
“Correct.”
Seeing the other man at a loss for words, Han Yujin continued.
“I told you once before. I don’t particularly have any desire for power. After seeing people squabbling inside a tiny well, how could I possibly develop any greed? Besides…”
As he spoke, he leaned back further into the sofa.
“The current Earth is far too vulnerable. Even someone like me, who could conquer the world if I wished, would be crushed like an insect with a mere flick of a finger by powerful beings outside this well.”
“…Most people won’t believe that easily.”
“There’s nothing that can be done about it. Unfortunately, this isn’t a matter of choice—it’s a matter of survival. I must continue moving quickly when necessary, and I cannot afford to carefully consider how frightened people might become each time. If anyone tries to interfere with me… I will have no choice but to respond accordingly.”
Having said that, Han Yujin stared at Park Seryong a little more intently.
“That is something I would prefer to avoid as well. So, why don’t you try resolving this for me, Mr. Park Seryong?”
The conversation ended up lasting much longer than expected. And it was by no means an easy one.
Fortunately, he had once shown Park Seryong the apocalyptic scene of Earth’s future using the Dream Illusion Mind Snatching Art, and the existence of Lee Won-hee—who could serve as evidence—had been discovered by Park Seryong himself. That had created at least a minimal foundation of trust.
Had that not been the case, the moment he revealed his mental abilities, it would have been extremely difficult to persuade the man with any words or actions.
Additionally, Han Yujin had already provided clues that his efforts to save Earth were not born from simple goodwill. By explaining more specifically this time, he gained greater persuasive power.
He spoke of how his awakening ability required him to exert some form of influence on as many people as possible. Therefore, it was better to exert positive and lasting influence, which was why he intended to distribute knowledge and awakening herbs.
Pure and complete goodwill was easily doubted, but when that goodwill also included tangible benefits, it became far easier to believe—especially for someone like Park Seryong.
‘I wonder how this will unfold…’
No matter how capable Park Seryong was, this was not a problem that could be easily resolved. In the worst case, he might have to personally weed out politicians showing suspicious movements.
People who might genuinely believe they were acting for the sake of the nation and humanity.
‘I can’t simply let myself be taken advantage of.’
It would be an unavoidable yet thoroughly unpleasant task.
Fortunately, it didn’t seem like it would escalate to the point of causing problems in the city center. It was simply that once things began to tangle, they would likely become entangled in a chain reaction, which was headache-inducing.
‘I’m certainly not some pure-hearted saint.’
If the situation became too troublesome and hopelessly tangled beyond his ability to manage, he might simply use the dimensional travel technique obtained from the Aheti race and leave for another world entirely.
No matter how much he loved his homeland, he had no intention of throwing away everything he possessed to protect it—especially not when the very things he sought to protect were flailing about and kicking up a fuss like idiots.
He could understand why they were doing it, but he had no patience for being dragged down by such foolish struggles.
Rather than perishing together in absurdity, wouldn’t it be wiser to survive alone and take revenge later?
In any case.
After the conversation ended and he was alone once more, he activated the Illusory Maze Formation to secure the area again, then lay down on the bed. He placed Mu-yong beside him, stroked her gently, and organized his thoughts for a moment before activating his awakening ability.
A short while later.
Regaining his senses at the waiting area, he completed all preparations with flawless efficiency. This time as well, he had no plans to bring Mu-yong along.
‘I wonder if the gate will successfully anchor this time.’
The fact that the gate to the post-apocalyptic Earth had been fixed before had nothing to do with knowing Earth’s future, so he could not be certain of success this time. During his very first use of the ability—when he knew nothing—he had simply fixed the gate with the desire to earn money, and that had led him to this very world.
With a slight sense of worry, he reviewed one last time what kind of wish he should hold. Only after confirming once more that there were no issues did he reach out and touch the ever-changing gate.
The form of the fixed gate, fortunately, was indeed that of Earth’s future.
Unfortunately, it appeared the apocalypse had not been prevented, for its condition was terrible.
Once again, it was a modern fire door. It seemed to be the most suitable form for embodying the concept of apocalypse. A steel fire door was also rather appropriate for representing Earth’s civilization.
The problem was that the fire door was in nearly the worst possible state—rusted in various places and heavily dented. Even the silver text that rose before him made him sigh.
‘Conquered by what?’
Since it was not a simple apocalypse or destruction, it seemed they had been defeated by some alien intelligent species possessing a proper civilization.
With that general guess in mind, he opened the gate and stepped inside. At the same time, he concealed his presence using Monghwan Yusim and scanned his surroundings.
It was a dark indoor space. The place felt like a prison, but not an ordinary one—it appeared to be a specially constructed facility.
He stood in a corridor lined with cells on both sides rather than inside a cell itself. One end of the corridor was blocked off, with an exit door only on the opposite side.
Inside the roughly ten cells, groups of four or five people—separated by gender and age—were imprisoned.
‘At least there are still people here.’
It should be easier to gather information than in the post-apocalyptic Earth he had seen before.
Instead of revealing himself and causing a commotion, he focused on a middle-aged man staring vacantly into the air with dead-fish eyes.
Tap—!
The faint sound reflexively drew the middle-aged man’s attention. When his slow gaze turned toward the empty air where the sound had come from—
The instant he witnessed a pair of violet eyes floating there, he was pulled into a dream.
A short while later.
The middle-aged man shook his head with a slightly dizzy expression as he emerged from the dream. He stared at the empty air where he had seen the violet eyes, then let out a faint sigh and lowered his head deeply.
He simply thought he had dozed off for a moment and had a strange dream.
And so.
Han Yujin remained standing silently in the corridor, still concealing his presence with Monghwan Yusim, organizing the information he had just obtained and feeling slightly confused.
The date of the apocalypse he had confirmed in the post-apocalyptic Earth was 2032.
Fortunately, in this middle-aged man’s memories, the world had remained intact until 2057. That meant that, from the perspective of the present Earth, there would be no major problems for approximately thirty-five years.
The problem was—
‘Why was there no notable change during those thirty-five years?’
If this truly was Earth’s future, he himself would surely have done something—anything—during such a significant period of time.
Yet in the middle-aged man’s memories, no such events existed at all.