Ch.16Chapter 16 – Storm and Asura

On a stormy night, a bluebird was flying about, searching for shelter from the rain. After crossing mountains, forests, and rain-swept plains, the bird reached a remote hill covered only with grass. At the summit of the windswept hill stood an antique mansion.

On the second floor of the mansion, a soft light leaked from an ornate window frame. Following this light to its destination, the bird perched on the windowsill. The only illuminated room in the mansion appeared to be a study or library. The lavish decorations and numerous artworks suggested that the room’s owner was quite wealthy.

A mounted goat’s head hung on the wall, and a large desk occupied the center of the room. The desk was neatly arranged with various items—a telephone, laptop, documents, fountain pen, and other miscellaneous objects. In the left corner of the desk, a phonograph was playing. From it flowed Franz Peter Schubert’s classic masterpiece, Op.1 D.328. The urgent, intense piano sounds reminiscent of a storm drowned out the noise of the wind and rain.

Behind the desk was a high-backed swivel chair facing the bookshelf at the rear, making it impossible for the bird on the windowsill to see the silhouette of whoever might be sitting there. Just then, a telephone ring began to interrupt the piano performance.

Ring-ring, ring-ring-

Perhaps annoyed by the telephone’s disruption of the music, or perhaps having been waiting for the call, a suited arm immediately shot out from behind the chair’s backrest and picked up the phone. A reptilian pale hand brought the receiver to an ear.

“Yes, this is Mr. B.”

“It’s Jang Paldeok here.”

It was the call he had been waiting for.

“Ah, the blacksmith. So, how did it go?”

“That fellow came by today. The awakened one you mentioned, Shin Jaehyuk.”

“Awakened one? Hmm, that could be the case.”

The hand not holding the phone tapped the armrest.

“What weapons did he order?”

“A dagger, shield, spear, and mace.”

“…I see. Well then, keep up the good work.”

The bloodless hand set down the phone. The fingers tapping the armrest quickened their pace.

Mace—Mr. B spat out the word as if surprised, then began to laugh maniacally.

“Ha—hahahahaha, uahahahahahaha——! Excellent, excellent! My judgment was correct after all. It must be him! My investment of goodwill was worthwhile—!”

The excited man slammed his palm down with a bang. The explosive sound reverberated off the walls before quickly fading beneath the music flowing from the phonograph. A voice, fervent like that of a girl meeting her first love, muttered:

“Good, with this, one piece is complete! No, not complete. This is just the beginning. But well begun is half done, so perhaps we’re halfway there—”

Ring-ring, ring-ring-

Suddenly, the telephone rang again. The gaze of the man hidden behind the chair turned toward it.

“How strange. Three calls in one day. I wasn’t expecting any more calls. Could it be Shin Jaehyuk?”

His long, dark eyebrows furrowed in puzzlement. Though he couldn’t guess who might be calling, he couldn’t ignore it either. This was a direct line known only to important individuals.

After a moment’s hesitation, he picked up the phone.

“This is Mr. B.”

“…”

For a while, there was no sound from the other end of the line. Growing impatient, he snapped irritably at the unknown caller.

“When you make a call, isn’t it polite to introduce yourself?”

Only then did a human voice begin to come through from the other end.

“I am Kwak Taewoo.”

The response was completely unexpected. The name of a murderer who had once shaken the world before the Great Cataclysm. But how did he know this number?

“The Chopstick Killer! I heard the prison was attacked and collapsed—you managed to escape, I see. So, what business do you have with me, and how did you contact me?”

He waited patiently for an answer. But what came back was an utterly unexpected response.

“I have a request. Of course, you have no right to refuse. I know your true name. I wonder what would happen if this name were to be revealed, ■■■■.”

When the four secret syllables were pronounced, the man’s actions suddenly froze. Like someone had pressed a pause button, all movement stopped in an instant. Anyone witnessing this would have felt discomfort and eeriness at the machine-like, unnatural stillness. Slowly, his lips parted.

“…You, how do you know that name?”

Naturally, no answer came.

“…No, a foolish question. Very well. I accept. What do you need?”

“Forged identification, locations of gates worldwide, large quantities of firearms, a skilled blacksmith, and information on one person.”

The man sneered at the endless stream of demands.

“Quite a lot, aren’t you asking for. Gate locations and a skilled blacksmith. Planning to enter the gates yourself? You must have awakened.”

The silence confirmed his speculation.

“…You’ll need to contact me weekly for updated gate location information.”

“Fine. Compared to the weight of your secret, this is a small price. I’ll accept it, though grudgingly. The person you want information on?”

A burning voice answered:

“Shin Jaehyuk.”

The conversation paused. Why was that name coming up again? The man concealed his emotions and responded casually.

“…How can I find someone with just a name? You need to provide at least some basic information.”

“About a week ago, an investigator who came to visit me. I want his personal information, residence, and daily routine.”

Had Shin Jaehyuk touched a nerve during his visit? What had happened between them? Or was he simply a madman? If not that, then perhaps…

Deep in thought, Mr. B habitually tapped the armrest. Coincidentally, the climax of the piece was playing from the phonograph. It was time to decide whose side to take. He spoke carefully.

“I accept all your requests. But let me ask two things. The price seems disproportionate for keeping my secret…”

“Ask.”

Good. Mr. B threw his first question to uncover everything about his counterpart.

“What is your motivation?”

“Revenge!”

The reply came in a fierce voice—the voice of someone burning with hatred. And such intense emotion can be trusted. Through Kwak Taewoo’s voice and answers, Mr. B predicted his identity and the full details of the incidents he had caused. Like a detective outlining an unsolved case, Mr. B struggled to contain his excitement as he asked a question to confirm his hypothesis.

“Is it personal?”

Kwak Taewoo was silent for a moment. Then he answered.

“It’s personal, and simultaneously for the sake of humanity.”

Click.

Beep- beep- beep-

The call ended. The room was once again filled with music. The piece playing from the phonograph was reaching its finale. This time, he didn’t burst into laughter. Instead, the voice hidden behind the chair sighed.

“Indeed. You’ve seen through this far. A discernment worthy of your reputation, sage.”

The hand that emerged from behind the backrest placed the phone on the desk and retreated behind the chair again.

“Without the opponent knowing, we’ve taken his joker into our hands. Whether it will stab us or stab him remains to be seen, but at least it’s perfect in the sense that the opponent can no longer use it. Has the time finally come to complete destiny?”

Footsteps rose as if someone behind the chair had suddenly stood up.

“I must contact him.”

Rumble- crash crash-!

Lightning flashed outside the window, brightly illuminating the interior. The chair that had been facing backward creaked as it rotated. The eyes of the bluebird resting on the windowsill shifted to one side to see the chair’s owner. The last two notes of the score concluding the music flowed from the phonograph. The two notes harmonized with the creaking sound of the chair.

Creak, creak…

The chair, slowly rotated to face the front, was empty.

The stormy night deepened in the silent, empty mansion.

***

Rumble- crash crash-!

In a back alley somewhere in South Korea, inside a secret hideout.

The thunderous sound reverberated through a small room.

It was the hideout of the Samdu Faction, a small criminal organization. A reddish light illuminated a man in a suit sitting on a sofa in the center of the room. The man lowered his smartphone from his ear. The hand placing the phone on the table trembled. He forcibly steadied his shaking wrist with his other hand.

The recent call had made him recall the face of the man he loathed. Thinking of that accursed face made his anger uncontrollable. He wanted to erase that existence from this world as soon as possible—within a day, an hour, even a second. But considering that man’s power, he knew his own strength was still far from sufficient. That man was chosen by an evil god…

“Ugh, please, spare me. I’ll do anything. No, I will do anything. Please, spare my life.”

Hearing the groaning, Kwak Taewoo looked up. A man with a back covered in tattoos was barely lifting his face from the floor, squirming and begging for mercy. He was the boss of the Samdu Faction.

“Please, please. Sir, I’ll live honestly from now on. Sob.”

It was obvious why the leader of a criminal organization, small though it might be, was begging so pitifully for his life. Nine corpses—once his subordinates—with torn limbs and holes in their skulls were scattered around the room.

The carnage didn’t end in the room but continued into the corridor outside. Leaning against the corridor wall was the cold, stiff body of a muscular man, with a pool of blood beneath him. The boss glared at the monster who had caused all this with just a dagger and a pair of chopsticks.

‘Devilish bastard…’

Sitting on the sofa, Kwak Taewoo fiddled with his blood-stained dagger. Unlike his subordinates, the boss had been left alive, which gave him confidence to shout:

“I, I’m the boss of the Samdu Faction! Do you know who’s behind me? Boss Ko Sangsu of the Gyeongseong Faction! If you mess with me, he won’t let you—gack”

The Samdu boss couldn’t finish his sentence. In the blink of an eye, a flying dagger had lodged in his vocal cords.

“Guh-gack!”

The man clutched his foaming throat, choking, before finally dropping his head. As the strength left his hands, blood flowed between his fingers.

“You seem to have misunderstood. I kept you alive because I needed a mobile phone.”

Kwak Taewoo reset the smartphone’s password to a number he knew. His actions were remarkably calm, making it hard to believe he had just extinguished someone’s life.

“This timing is most suitable for clearing out trash like you. The police are busy with post-gate cleanup, so they won’t have time to pay attention to you.”

He was right. The police were overwhelmingly busy identifying and processing missing persons and casualties from the gate incidents, as well as finding and disposing of demon corpses. Moreover, with many officers having died protecting citizens from demons, the police were struggling with staff shortages.

In such circumstances, the deaths of mere criminals would be pushed down the priority list and eventually concluded as “poor victims killed by imps.” The deliberately mutilated bodies would reinforce this conclusion. Even if someone suspicious tried to track him down, the pouring rain outside would wash away his traces.

“Status window”

His level had increased. Entering a gate alone at a low level would be suicidal. One couldn’t handle the sheer number of imps. He might hold out for a while, but fighting alone would eventually drain his stamina. And when stamina runs out, it’s over. Rather than jumping into gates as a low-level, hunting trash like these to level up was several times safer and more efficient. Moreover, this work would also help her…

Thinking about his next prey, he recalled the dying words of the Samdu boss he had just killed.

“The Gyeongseong Faction, was it? I’ll deal with them next.”

Rising from his seat, Kwak Taewoo muttered to himself. He wiped the blood from his dagger and chopsticks on a nearby corpse’s sleeve before tucking them inside his suit vest. His shoes splashed through the pools of blood as he walked.

Walking down the corridor, Kwak Taewoo covered his face with his hand. Between his fingers gleamed the fierce eyes of a wounded predator. Those were the eyes of an asura who had resolved to walk a path of blood and corpses. Moving among the lives he had extinguished, the asura made a vow.

I must grow stronger. I must enter gates and kill demons to level up. Faster and more than others. Thus, I will cultivate enough power to kill you. I will surpass you.

And that day will become your death anniversary.

Dark Knight.