Chapter 33

Chapter 33
## Chapter 33

Shadows of Seoul (3)

Hans secured a triumph he found acceptable, taming the ravenous horde of the dead.

The multiplying army of ghouls, moving like a dark tide, drained into the shadowy void yawning across the ground.

‘Come to think of it, I need to dedicate time to analyzing rift sorcery that allows for hopping between worlds.’

The spatial arts he currently employed only tapped into the pocket dimensions tethered to this reality, rendering them useless for transferring assets across different realms.

To truly breach the barrier between universes, a traveler had to either step through physically or rely on minuscule, exceptionally scarce relics of rift magic.

‘It would also be highly practical to look into mind-bending enchantments. A technique exists within the pages of “Forbidden Knowledge,” but it isn’t a realistic path to take.’

Weaving dark spells to shatter a target’s willpower and convert them into a mindless thrall presented no real challenge.

On the flip side, subtly altering someone’s perception while leaving their core identity intact was an intricate ordeal, demanding a massive investment of hours, focus, and a variety of rare catalysts.

‘I can manage to get my hands on artifacts unique to Outerica. The true obstacle is everything else.’

The label of “Forbidden” attached to “Forbidden Knowledge” was entirely justified.

The ingredients necessary for such procedures were universally macabre.

It felt morally reprehensible to spill the lifeblood of an innocent youth or harvest the anatomy of an unborn child merely to make things a bit simpler for himself.

‘My best bet is to engineer a fresh methodology using that lore as a baseline. My to-do list is endless, but the clock is ticking. Traveling to Outerica would be the most practical way to optimize my schedule, but first, I must devise a strategy to blind the Church’s tracking hounds. It’s quite a headache.’

Moving along, he advanced toward the storage unit where the captives were locked away.

Past the heavy steel barricade patrolled by his reanimated minions, his senses picked up roughly a dozen distinct auras of life.

They appeared to be clustering together in a corner, likely spooked by the violent clashes occurring outside.

Before shattering the barrier, he paused to assess the scenario.

‘Perhaps I’m a preferable alternative to what they fear. There are a few details to verify.’

Instead of forcing them to confront shambling, horrifying ghouls, wouldn’t it be far more reassuring to present Hans, even if his fully concealed form carried an eerie aura?

He pulled his hood down further to shadow his face, hoping to dull the terror of his presence.

With a resounding echo, he smashed through the threshold and stepped inside, encountering a trembling group of captives tightly huddled together.

Managing these terrified civilians was an objective that required immediate action.

Reaching into his garments, he pulled out a mobile device taken from the fallen Mines, dialed the emergency services, and tossed it toward the captive group.

“Uh… What’s this?”

Guided by an invisible kinetic force, the phone soared gracefully through the air, dropping squarely into the palms of a bewildered hostage.

“Hello, emergency services. What is your…?”

Directly following, the distant phrase of an operator drifted from the device in his grip.

Stunned, the man paused in confusion, casting a glance toward Hans before nervously speaking into the line to explain their plight.

Keeping watch until that moment, Hans quietly faded into the shadows.

‘It appears no infiltrators are embedded among them. This situation is resolved.’

Planting saboteurs within a group of captives wasn’t a standard tactic for these lawbreakers.

Hans possessed an acute sensitivity to dark resonances like terror and hopelessness.

By directly observing them and evaluating their instinctual dread, he concluded no hidden threats lurked in the crowd.

Given that this facility was a classified stronghold run by the Mines, the wardens were entirely comprised of sorcerers, meaning they likely viewed ordinary humans as mere livestock beneath their notice.

‘I’ve etched another victory onto my tally as a slayer of the Mines.’

In the beginning, his strategy was to operate with total anonymity, yet his perspective had shifted as time went on.

Because they lacked any means to trace his identity and wiping the memories of every single hostage was a tedious chore, he realized that letting urban legends spread about his exploits might actually serve to depress local criminal activity.

Truthfully, it provided a bit of entertainment to watch net users wildly debate the mysterious figure in the mask.

Consequently, he masked his true self while allowing the testimonies of those he saved to fuel the rumors.

As a direct outcome, descriptions of Hans sporting the traditional Hahoe mask became a viral sensation across digital forums.

‘Switching tracks, who exactly are the operatives of the “Cheonhwehoe”? They appear to influence every underworld plot, yet their fundamental identity remains completely shrouded.’

This was data extracted directly from probing the minds of the captured Mines.

The syndicates he smashed on this day possessed only tangential ties to the Cheonhwehoe, making it nearly impossible to follow the breadcrumbs of their funding.

The intelligence gathered from the previous syndicate he dismantled mirrored the ambiguous clues he held now.

‘No matter. If I persistently tear down these illicit syndicates one by one, their core leadership will eventually be exposed.’

If the current breakdown in metropolitan security stemmed from their machinations, an encounter with them was bound to happen before long.

Detecting the distant, wailing approach of police emergency vehicles, Hans abandoned the facility.

In keeping with his established pattern following a clash, nothing remained at the scene save for a painted emblem of the Hahoe mask.

—

A secluded booth within a lavish dining establishment that went to extreme lengths to safeguard the anonymity of its patrons.

A pair of individuals lounged across from one another, tipping back drinks.

“Word on the street is some lunatic sporting a mask has been tearing through the city lately, masquerading as a vigilante.”

A man possessing an incredibly ordinary, easily forgotten countenance initiated the conversation while refilling the glass of his companion.

“Rumor has it he commands the dark arts.”

A refined gentleman of middle age, adjusting his spectacles, offered a detached reply before taking a sip.

The evening progressed in this rhythm, defined by the steady pouring and sharing of spirits.

“I’ve never encountered a rational individual who tampers with the dark arts.”

“True, but looking at his scale of operation, one could argue he maintains a twisted sort of elegance. He seems bound by a code, actively shielding innocent bystanders from harm.”

“Ha, a code maintained by a practitioner of the dark arts. How chilling. Such types are usually far more unhinged than radical zealots.”

The dark arts, which corrupted the natural currents of the world, were incredibly predatory and expanded at an alarming rate, dealing a lethal blow to anyone caught in their wake.

Yet, because it was a fundamentally tainted power, prolonged exposure inevitably eroded the mental stability of the caster.

“His territory is widening. We are obligated to intervene, but are you saying no leads have materialized?”

The sector where Hans first emerged as the Hahoe mask, near the southwestern banks of the Han River within Seoul, had rapidly expanded to choke out multiple administrative zones.

Furthermore, his chaotic movements made it nearly impossible to chart his next strike.

“Cornering him is proving to be an ordeal. He utilizes instantaneous displacement without a second thought, and masking his approach makes it impossible to pinpoint him until his sorcery is already unleashed.”

“Hmph, instantaneous displacement. Pair that with absolute stealth, and he becomes far more troublesome than initially estimated. Could he be a traveler who recently made landfall back on Earth?”

The ordinary-looking fellow drained his spirit in a single gulp, fixing his gaze on the middle-aged gentleman opposite him.

That piercing, yet vacant stare prompted the refined gentleman to shift his spectacles, deliberately breaking eye contact.

“Whatever his origin, his constant interference in our operations is becoming an unacceptable roadblock.”

“Then maximize your vigilance.”

“Understood, if that is your wish. We shall employ our own measures to rectify the situation.”

Flashing a deceptive smirk, the ordinary-looking man rested his glass on the wood and arose.

“My schedule is packed, so I must depart. The expenses are settled, so conclude your evening at your leisure.”

With a careless gesture of his hand, he slipped noiselessly out of the booth.

“Sigh…”

Grateful to be unburdened by the stressful meeting, the middle-aged gentleman let out a long, unburdened breath.

He then went back to nursing his vintage spirit.

Reflecting the premium nature of the venue, the quality of the liquor was undeniably superb.

A substantial interval slipped away.

Chime, chime…

Abruptly, the sharp alert of a mobile phone shattered the quiet air.

Scowling, he glanced down at the display to identify the caller.

The name of a lower-ranking officer flashed on the glass.

What emergency could possibly disrupt his night at such an hour?

Grudgingly accepting the connection, panicked words came tumbling out of the speaker.

“Director! Forgive the ungodly hour! A notification just came in from the outer boundaries of Seoul, and the scale of this is catastrophic.”

The subordinate rapidly detailed the horror.

A massive processing facility handling human remains had been uncovered, brought to light by rescued captives and the intervention of the Hahoe mask.

Disconnecting the call, he let out another heavy breath and pushed himself up from the table. The hour for indulging in fine spirits had officially ended.

—

3 AM. Heinz, having concluded his business involving the exchange of precious metal, wandered aimlessly through the avenues.

In another sector, Hans, having wrapped up his violent encounter, was occupied with eliminating any traces of his presence.

Heinz, who had journeyed from a far-off realm specifically to verify if any deception lurked behind the winning lottery slip, intended to linger until the operation reached its absolute finish.

‘If they attempt to shadow my movements, I will simply unmask their operation.’

He had been quietly bracing for an ambush or an asset play, but up to this moment, nothing out of the ordinary had transpired.

When their paths diverged, he had detected a flicker of mistrust within the concealed merchant, but perhaps his stern admonition hit the mark, or they were simply cautious by nature?

‘As long as they comprehend how to play fair, they remain viable partners for commerce. The transaction is finalized, so the matter is settled. Should they choose to instigate unprovoked hostility, I will simply eliminate them.’

This particular sector fell squarely within the territory monitored by Hans.

It would require only a modest increase in vigilance to keep the peace here for the foreseeable future.

Thus, he continued his nocturnal stroll, though the density of the nighttime crowd had diminished sharply compared to his arrival hours earlier.

Even for an area typically bursting with nocturnal energy, the drop-off in activity was staggering.

Because Hans had violently disrupted the status quo here not long ago, the neighborhood populace seemed to be exercising extreme discretion.

Avoiding any actions that might invite disaster appeared to be the overarching sentiment of the public.

Reflecting on the reality that he had single-handedly enforced this tranquility, a sense of satisfaction washed over him.

‘Whether this order is forged through brutal dominance or peaceful means, what difference does it make? Treat courtesy with courtesy, and meet aggression with aggression. If nothing else, the outcome is absolute.’

While a pair of drunken revellers were trading blows in a dark alley corner, it was nothing more than typical nightlife friction.

There was absolutely no reason to waste his energy on such a petty squabble.

“Ha, fantastic hook! And a follow-up strike! The other guy isn’t folding either? Quite an entertaining brawl.”

Anesthetized against injury by the sheer volume of spirits they had consumed, the fighters traded reckless blows, injecting a bit of chaotic amusement into the desolate streets.

Both were stumbling erratically, ensuring that far more punches cleft the empty air than connected with flesh.

He was passing the time by observing the sloppy duel when an unexpected voice materialized from the darkness behind him.

“Hey, friend, step over this way for a brief chat.”

A demand issued right at Heinz’s back. In a heartbeat, adrenaline flooded his system, and his combat reflexes ignited.

His perception sharpened to such an extreme degree that he could distinctly register the thudding pulses of the two drunks brawling a short distance away.

Yet, strangely, he could detect absolutely no physical footprint from the speaker who had challenged him.

Deliberately pivoting his torso to face the rear, he observed a figure standing a mere arm’s length away, locking eyes with him completely unbothered.

As their gazes collided, the stranger motioned with his chin toward a darkened corridor and walked ahead.

‘I am still failing to register any hostile aura. What is the optimal move?’

Though momentarily startled by the sudden confrontation, his path forward was instantly decided.

‘Since when have I lacked the ability to mask my own trail? If the encounter turns lethal, I can instantly vanish into thin air. Fleeing danger is my greatest talent.’

Without further delay, he stepped into the shadows of the corridor after the figure.

The stranger had already taken up a spot, bracing his back against the brickwork with arms crossed, patiently awaiting his arrival.

“Well, your reflexes are certainly commendable.”

It was a casual observation noting that Heinz hadn’t chosen to flee the scene.

Maintaining his silence, Heinz simply tracked the stranger’s movements with an intense stare.

Though the identity of this person remained a mystery, they clearly possessed a specific motive for pulling him aside.

“Lower your guard. I harbor no violent designs against you.”

With a self-deprecating chuckle, the figure pushed away from the brickwork and closed the distance between them.

Disregarding Heinz’s hostile and skeptical expression, the man advanced until they were practically chest-to-chest, drawing deep breaths through his nose repeatedly.

What madness is driving this individual?

“fascinating, I am completely stumped. Your scent is entirely foreign to me.”

The stranger stepped back to create space, fixing his eyes back onto Heinz’s face.

“Tell me, which realm do you hail from?”

“What nonsense are you spouting? Creeping up to sample my scent and then demanding my place of origin?”

Heinz snapped back, his voice dripping with irritation.

He was fully aware that this challenger was no ordinary mortal, but the stranger was behaving with an absurd amount of familiarity without even explaining the situation.

“What’s the story here? Is he one of those transmigrators who recently crossed back over to Earth?”

The man muttered under his breath, giving himself a firm nod before delivering a casual revelation.

“You’re a creature of the night, a vampire, correct?”

A bizarre, knowing grin spread across his face.

“As it happens, so am I. Though our lineages trace back to entirely different worlds.”

It was at this exact juncture that Heinz stood face-to-face with a vampire born of an entirely separate reality.