Chapter 31

A Hell Without Flames

The sound of machinery clicking into place illuminated the space before us.

Click.

I pulled back my poncho and switched on the light I had tucked inside my chest pocket.

A bleak scene immediately revealed itself.

I was impressed by South Korean construction technology for surviving repeated bombardments.

And I was surprised by the amount of ordinary everyday trash scattered around.

Crushed plastic bottles.

Opened cans.

They littered the floor everywhere.

Deacon Min Hyungjun of the Taegeuk Cloak Group, who had arrived a step behind us Supreme Mages, clicked his tongue.

Unlike us, the Taegeuk Cloak Group wasn't wearing gas masks or ponchos, making his grimace clearly visible.

Pretending to pinch his nose, he shook his head.

"Judging by the smell, it's gone a little stale. Looks like refugees really did stay here."

Meanwhile, Lee Sejun adjusted his rifle, dropped to one knee, and examined the discarded garbage.

Then he tilted his head.

Naturally, he made sure everyone could hear his thoughts.

"Did they scatter noisy objects around to detect intruders? If they wanted to stay hidden, they should've cleaned up this trash too..."

Either way, we had roughly twenty-three minutes left.

Three identified species and eleven unidentified species were known to inhabit Seoul.

Lingering here wasn't a good idea.

I loved magic, but I had no desire to fight endless battles against monsters.

Exploration in horror movies was basically an instant-death mechanic.

But time was running out.

We needed to find something and get out.

Finding clues about magic would be a bonus.

With that in mind, I suggested splitting up by group.

Deacon Min brushed back a strand of hair and looked at us with concern.

"There are only three of you. Are you sure? We could split the manpower evenly."

"All three of us are Mutation-type mages."

"Mutation-type? Ah, the special abilities granted by the Lord. Hmm... If Nain is with you, you'll probably be fine."

Thus the Supreme Mage Trio and the Taegeuk Cloak Group split up in the lobby.

We would head upstairs via the emergency staircase and search the second floor.

The Taegeuk Cloak Group would finish searching the first floor.

Once the roles were assigned, moving forward became much easier.

The only concern was Shin Nain.

He kept muttering prayers under his breath.

His eyes looked unfocused.

His mental state seemed unstable.

I snapped my fingers in front of his face.

"Hey, shit-for-brains. Focus. Tell me what you hear."

"...Jemin. Sejun. Something's strange. I can still hear babies crying..."

Thankfully, there were no footprints near the emergency stairwell door.

Still, I signaled to Shin Nain.

He nodded.

"Nothing."

Creeeeeeak.

With my rifle tucked beneath my right arm, I pushed the emergency door open with my left hand.

Since it had no handle and only needed to be pushed, it let out an obnoxiously loud noise.

Fortunately, the stairs were intact.

Just to be safe, I shone my chest light downward.

Benches and bookshelves that hadn't been visible from the lobby had been piled up with trash.

As though someone had deliberately blocked access to the basement.

If we had more time, we might have cleared everything away and investigated.

But the barricade was obviously hastily assembled.

It wasn't garbage disposal.

Someone had intentionally sealed the path below.

And unlike a normal dumping ground, there were no signs of human waste.

No graffiti.

No filth.

Surprisingly clean.

Not even a single red footprint.

I signaled to Lee Sejun and Shin Nain that it was safe to enter and readjusted my grip on my rifle.

The lower staircase was blocked.

Next came the second floor.

As we climbed, I observed Sejun and Nain.

Shin Nain remained tense.

Sejun glanced toward the blocked lower stairs and muttered,

"They probably barely used the stairs."

After that, silence returned.

Only the sound of shattered concrete and broken glass crunching beneath our boots remained.

Crunch. Crunch.

Countless fragments cracked and rolled beneath our soles.

The moisture building inside my gas mask became increasingly uncomfortable.

Beyond the fogged lenses, the world was swallowed by mist.

A terrifying sort of mystery filled the air.

People imagine hell as a place of sulfur and flames.

Lately, I'd changed my mind.

Hell isn't bright.

It isn't lively.

It's dark.

Damp.

A place where humanity has been judged unworthy even of eternal punishment.

A place that doesn't bother measuring good or evil.

A place that doesn't even grant you the opportunity to burn and emit light.

That is hell.

And right now—

We were in it.

The fog trembled faintly with every step we took.

The thought that corpses or monsters might be lurking beneath it made my heart pound painfully.

Then we found evidence that people had once lived here.

"Candles?"

Melted wax and burned-out candles lined both sides of the hallway.

I activated Stage 1 of the Mutation Eye System and looked around.

No red footprints.

Still, I couldn't relax.

My foresight only predicted threats from moving targets—monsters—starting ten seconds into the future.

If something were hiding in ambush and attacked within ten seconds, I'd be helpless.

So I aimed my rifle and carefully watched every intersection, corner, and doorway.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Thirty.

No red footprints appeared.

I turned to Shin Nain.

"Shit-for-brains. Hear anything?"

"Baby cries... not nearby. They're deeper inside."

"Let's clear each room quickly."

Lee Sejun swallowed nervously.

The Supreme Mage formation was established.

I, Baek Jemin, would check the rooms.

Shin Nain and Lee Sejun would guard the hallway against anything that emerged.

Every door we passed would be closed behind us to create noise if something approached.

And all three of us would remain within one another's line of sight.

Once the rules were set, the search began in earnest.

Ten minutes?

Maybe more.

Perhaps seventeen minutes remained.

I took full advantage of the reduced magical backlash.

Using Stage 1 of the Mutation Eye System repeatedly, I rounded corners and kicked open doors one after another.

It greatly reduced the burden of constant vigilance.

Bang.

Empty.

Rattle.

Locked.

I immediately readjusted my rifle.

Smashing the stock into the door, I kicked it open.

Crash!

Dust exploded into the beam of my flashlight.

Keeping my rifle shouldered, I scanned the room.

About ten seconds later, as the dust settled, a strange sight emerged.

Then Lee Sejun's nervous voice sounded from behind me.

"Jemin. See anything?"

"Bloodstains. Clothes."

I approached slowly and knelt down.

Dark, dried blood covered piles of clothing.

Yellowed white shirts.

Torn padded jackets.

Clear evidence that people had once lived here.

The problem was that all of it was mixed with blood.

I grabbed the edge of a relatively clean garment and pulled.

Crack.

The dried blood split apart.

Old.

Very old.

Had monsters attacked them?

I searched further.

Nothing.

The room, once a clinic office, contained only blood-soaked clothing.

There wasn't time to speculate.

A chill crawled up my spine.

"Everyone get ready. Monsters definitely came through here."

Without a word, Shin Nain and Lee Sejun tightened their grips on their rifles.

I moved to the next room.

Bang!

The doorknob turned easily.

Inside were signs of resistance.

Bloody handprints stretched across the walls and floor before abruptly ending.

The victim hadn't been dragged toward the window.

Judging from the marks, they had been dragged into the hallway.

Yet the trail vanished before reaching it.

Instead, a thick patch of blood had dried near the doorway.

As though something had exploded.

Nothing else stood out.

I closed the door.

Next room.

Bang! Bang bang!

This door's handle was broken.

I considered shooting it open.

Then thought better of it.

Gunfire might attract monsters.

For all I knew, they could follow the smell of gunpowder.

The rifle was on safe.

Still, it was a risk.

I smashed the handle repeatedly with the stock before kicking the door open.

Quick scan.

Dust everywhere.

No footprints.

But there was a strange symbol.

It looked like a bowl-shaped character.

For a moment I thought it might be a magical inscription.

Yet I felt none of the mental disturbance associated with magic script.

The only unusual thing was that it appeared to have been painted using blood-covered hands.

Was that all?

The room resembled the previous one.

Bloodstained clothing everywhere.

However, several bags—including school backpacks—had been neatly arranged against the wall.

I approached them.

Slipping my rifle sling over my shoulder, I searched through the bags.

Half-eaten snack wrappers.

Spoiled triangle kimbap.

Mold-covered tuna cans.

Sticky drink cans fused to the bottom.

The traces of human life remained intact.

Then I found a notebook.

Torn violently apart.

I picked it up and speed-read it.

The contents weren't remarkable.

Just curses directed at the people outside Seoul.

The coherent portions could be summarized as follows:

• Requests to stop the bombardment were ignored.
• Vehicles arrived nearby. They weren't relief vehicles. A newlywed couple who approached them were killed.
• Babies were born even in a place like this. We want those babies to see sunlight.

After that, the notebook devolved into madness.

May everyone outside die.

We'll break through the containment line.

We'll spread the monsters.

We'll all die together.

Let's help the monsters and take revenge on the government and military.

Nothing useful remained.

I tossed the notebook aside and raised my rifle.

Only one room remained.

The deepest room on the floor.

The room from which the baby cries originated.

When I stepped back into the hallway, Shin Nain and Lee Sejun already had their rifles raised and aimed down the corridor.

Without lowering his weapon, Sejun spoke.

"You were in there longer than usual."

"There was still food left. They didn't simply starve. Something happened. Stay alert."

The Supreme Mage Trio reformed our formation and advanced.

Still no red footprints.

I asked Shin Nain to listen.

He nodded.

Then we stopped before the final room.

And this time—

Even Sejun and I could hear it.

Waaah... waaah...

Something stirred deep inside me.

The feeling was complicated.

First came sadness.

A baby abandoned in a place like this.

Then mourning.

People had risked everything to protect that child.

Then righteous anger.

At the circumstances that had forced such a situation into existence.

If there were anything capable of answering me, I wanted to ask:

What exactly had South Korea done to deserve this?

Why us?

Why humanity?

Why this tiny country?

Why had this happened?

I set those questions aside and reached for the door.

Then—

"Jemin."

Shin Nain grabbed my shoulder firmly.

"You're not that heroic of a person."

...

"You came here for magic. Sejun came to repay his debt to the country. I came because of my holy war of atonement to God. None of us came here to save heretics."

I closed my eyes.

It was insane.

But I needed a moment to organize my thoughts.

When I opened them again, the crying remained.

Waaah. Waaah.

I could picture a tiny infant flailing its little arms and legs while waiting for a guardian.

Yet my mind remained cold.

Lee Sejun seemed to have reached the same conclusion.

His brows were furrowed behind the gas mask lenses.

He tucked his rifle under his arm and brushed a hand across the grenade hanging from his belt.

Resolving himself.

Then I recited the motto of the Supreme Mages.

We are madness opposing madness.

Absurdity confronting absurdity.

Before hell seeps into the world—

We advance into hell first.

"Hup!"

I kicked the door open and surged inside.

At that moment, Stage 1 of the Mutation Eye System finally revealed red footprints.

They were crawling toward us.

Slowly.

Agonizingly slowly.

Like something dragging itself across the floor.

Easy Enough to Defeat Even Without Foresight

The moment I saw the owners of the red footprints, two visions overlapped.

One was the vision of an ordinary human.

The sight I saw when I wasn't using magic.

There, abandoned and stained infants kicked their tiny limbs while wrapped in swaddling cloth that still retained traces of human warmth.

Watching them cry desperately, pleading for their fading lives to continue, stirred overwhelming pity within me.

"Waah... waah..."

But the magical vision showed something entirely different.

What lay within the blankets was merely a silhouette resembling a baby.

Concealed by dense fog, swaddling cloth, and infant cries, the creature revealed its true form to magical sight.

Thump!

It reminded me of an old internet shock image I'd once seen.

A grotesque tumor.

A teratoma, I think it was called.

A type of cancer containing malformed teeth, eyes, and organs growing together in impossible configurations.

And however unpleasant it was to admit—

Cancer was life, too.

Cancer only wanted to live.

Seeking a new host when the current one died.

Wrapped within the blankets were teratomas clumsily and blasphemously imitating the human form.

Those teratomas were pretending to be babies.

Limbs covered in teeth flailed helplessly.

Meaningless hearts pulsed openly in the air.

Lidless eyes rolled toward us.

Then lips embedded in their throats parted.

What emerged wasn't a monster's roar.

"Waah."

Click.

The three of us instantly shouldered our rifles.

Semi-automatic.

Finger on the trigger.

"AAAAAAAH!"

A gunshot rang out alongside Lee Sejun's scream.

Spent casings fell heavily onto bloodstained clothing.

Muzzle flashes erupted.

Tumorous masses exploded apart.

The teratomas immediately stopped pretending.

Wobbling grotesquely, they began crawling toward us at alarming speed.

All the while continuing to cry like infants.

Trying to avoid our fire.

"Waaah! Waaah!"

Each cry made my vision dim as though static were filling my eyes.

Only then did I understand.

A psychic attack.

They weaponized humanity's instinct to protect children.

They dangled that noble compassion before us and advanced behind it.

Monsters that used the cries of helpless infants to suppress humanity's own survival instincts.

Nightmarish creatures that could only be resisted by those whose will to survive surpassed their compassion—

Or those who had awakened magic and recognized the contradiction.

"WAAAAAH!"

My rifle wavered for a moment.

The teratomas closed the distance.

Only then did I understand why I hadn't prepared a grenade beforehand.

Why I'd insisted on entering personally.

The unconscious instinct of the species.

The moral conviction that babies must not be harmed.

Even after realizing they were monsters, some part of me had still hoped for a miracle.

That one-percent chance.

That in this hell, human compassion had somehow protected real babies...

"In the name of Jesus Christ, begone, Satan!"

Tatatatat!

Several red footprints vanished instantly.

Shin Nain.

Without hesitation, he fired through the gun smoke and muzzle flashes.

One teratoma after another fell.

But we couldn't eliminate all of them before they reached us.

Sejun and I prepared for close combat.

There wasn't even time to use my Hand System magic.

No time to spread blood from my right hand.

Instead, I grabbed my rifle by the heated barrel and swung it.

Eye System, Stage 2.

My pain is longer and greater than any before...

A leaping teratoma smashed against the rifle stock and burst apart.

The moment a red footprint disconnected from the ground, the shifting fog revealed where it would land.

Calculating the ten-second time lag.

Predicting the future.

Using foresight while swinging a rifle.

It was exhausting, but manageable.

With the stun effect from Eye System Stage 2, close combat was becoming easier than shooting.

The surprise performer was Lee Sejun.

As I batted away one teratoma and tucked my rifle beneath my arm, Sejun was already mowing through them like he was swinging a baseball bat.

"Sejun! I'm going to blink once! Hold out!"

Blink.

"AAAAAAAH! AAAH! AAH!"

Listening to his battle cries, I bit down on my left hand.

The effect of Eye System Stage 2 was undeniable.

The entire pack of teratomas flinched.

Sejun moved past fear and into rage.

He kicked them with his combat boots.

Stomped them into paste.

"Die! Die! Die!"

Shin Nain seemed almost relaxed.

"What a relief. They're not real humans. I won't be shaken by baby cries anymore."

As if he'd never been affected at all, he calmly and efficiently pulled the trigger.

Bang. Bang.

I joined him without hesitation.

The creatures were slow enough that even instinctive firing worked.

Whenever a bullet ricocheted off the floor, another tumorous body burst apart.

Their durability was pitiful.

If you could withstand their mental attacks, they weren't particularly dangerous monsters.

They traveled in groups.

They could leap.

But they were predictable.

Blink.

When I opened my eyes again, every teratoma was dead.

Apparently they weren't resilient like Amalgams or Devouring Spines.

For a moment I thought they were nothing special.

Only in my head, though.

As the adrenaline faded, reality returned.

Huff. Huff.

My breathing was ragged.

Air passing through the gas mask filter smelled sweet and rubbery.

Dried saliva clung to the corners of my mouth.

Then crushing exhaustion settled onto my shoulders.

I slapped my trembling thigh with one hand.

For a while, the room contained only dead tumor-creatures and the sound of breathing through gas masks.

"Reload."

Recovering spent magazines never even crossed my mind.

At my words, we all swapped magazines regardless of how many rounds remained.

Click.

The sight of brass casings tangled among melted flesh made me sigh.

"I'll finish searching inside. Nain, Sejun—watch the hallway."

Only then did I properly take in the room.

Bloody handprints covered every wall.

They weren't symbols.

Not letters.

Just desperate scratches left behind by people writhing in agony.

Beneath those handprints lay a heavy notebook and a pen.

I approached, knelt down, and opened it.

Inside were pages packed with writing from an anonymous survivor.

"In the name of Jesus Christ. In the name of God."

I wasn't sure how many minutes had passed.

The gunfire outside must have been heard.

Static from the radio Sejun carried had become much louder.

The problem was that reception remained terrible.

I figured I could report later and hurriedly skimmed the notebook.

Eye — Cognition? Distortion?

Ear — Fate? Detection?

Hand — Intelligence? Alchemy?

Heart — Life? Enhancement?

Tongue — Acceptance. Transformation

• Each stage induces specific thought patterns.

When questioning mages, Stage 1 consistently produces "reflection."

Stage 2 consistently produces "grief."

• Magical aptitude seems tied to the symbolic meaning of each body part.

Thoughts and emotions appear to influence manifestation.

• Stage 1 Hand Magic is extremely useful.

Although the duration is short, blood handprints can partially block monster attacks.

When applied to a club and swung, it inflicted meaningful damage.

• Not enough blood.

** Only seems to work on blood extended from the right hand.

*** I got someone killed.

Someone who knew the Tongue Symbol joined us.

A new form of magic.

• Awakened it. Acceptance and Transformation.

** Side effects are worse than other body parts.

• I realized something.

Humanity cannot win this war.

• Because we love ourselves too much.

** We must accept that humanity is not special.

*** I have decided to abandon Tongue Magic.

• The Tongue Symbol is on the final page.
• Baby cries echo constantly.

** Everyone capable of killing them is already dead.

• Avoid the baby cries.

I silently thanked the notebook's owner.

How concise.

How practical.

Unlike Father Jeong Yonghwan's journals, there were no emotional digressions or excessive flourishes.

Simple Korean.

Clear notes.

Easy to read.

Perfect.

Without hesitation, I turned to the final page.

Then I laid the notebook down amidst the faint fog and lingering gun smoke.

The meaningless symbol gradually transformed.

A semicircle.

A vertical line through the center.

Alternating branches extending from both sides.

It resembled a key.

A strange symbol.

Naturally, the backlash struck immediately.

"Ugh... agh..."

"Jemin?"

"AAAGH!"

It was unbelievably spicy.

As though my tongue had been soaked in chili oil.

Tears streamed down my face.

The tears I'd planned to save for my parents' funerals were pouring freely.

This wasn't the time to hold a rifle.

I dropped it.

Opened my canteen.

Dumped water onto my tongue.

For a brief moment, the cold water helped.

Then it felt like the water itself had turned into liquid pepper.

"HAAAH! HAAAH! AAAH!"

I swear chemical warfare training wasn't this painful.

I thought I was dying.

When I lifted my gas mask, blood-flecked saliva spilled from my mouth.

Sejun and Nain were saying something.

I couldn't hear any of it.

Eventually, the burning stopped.

The sensation became cold.

Like melted ice cream coating my tongue.

Only then did I spit and put my gas mask back on.

When I looked up, Lee Sejun was staring at me with utter disappointment.

"Jemin, maybe this is what happens when you learn magic without thinking."

"You should try learning some yourself."

"Hah. Why can't we get fireballs or lightning magic like normal people..."

The complaints of ordinary mortal Lee Sejun weren't important.

What mattered was Shin Nain.

His gaze had turned icy.

"I can still hear baby cries. We need to leave."

"Wait. One second."

I skillfully tucked the notebook into the waistband of my pants.

There was nowhere else to put it.

The elastic of my underwear would have to do.

A double-lock system when combined with my belt.

As soon as I picked up my rifle, Sejun's expression became openly disgusted.

"Jesus Christ. You're seriously planning to submit something you've stored in your underwear?"

"There are things in this building far nastier than my body hair. Let's move."

The exit went quickly.

As we'd already seen, the upper floors and roof had taken most of the bombardment.

The second floor remained relatively safe.

This time, despite the tension, no threats appeared.

The only concern was Shin Nain's warning.

The baby cries.

We encountered that threat directly when we reached the first-floor lobby.

The Taegeuk Cloak Group should have returned.

They didn't.

Instead, Shin Nain aimed his rifle into a dark hallway untouched by our lights and spoke with a trembling voice.

"The baby cries..."

"What about the people who went in there?"

Lee Sejun's tactless question received no answer.

Or rather—

Shin Nain couldn't answer.

We didn't leave immediately.

For several moments we stood there aiming into the darkness.

Using Eye System Stage 1, I looked beyond.

Red footprints.

Many of them.

But they weren't approaching.

They lingered beneath the shadows.

Watching us.

Waiting.

I didn't know how teratomas reproduced.

My guess?

They exploited humanity's instincts.

Approached while crying like babies.

Curled up like infants seeking comfort.

Latched onto flesh and spread their tumors.

Becoming one with the host.

The victim would eventually dissolve beneath countless tumorous growths.

And yet people couldn't kill them.

Because they looked like babies.

Because they cried like babies.

Because the image they imitated was too sacred.

Too pure.

Even knowing the truth, people hesitated.

And died weeping.

The Taegeuk Cloak Group might have worn ridiculous capes and carried absurd names.

But they had unquestionably been brave enough to walk willingly into hell.

I patted Shin Nain on the back.

He still couldn't move.

"Let's go."

Only the Supreme Mage Trio returned.

The machine gunner atop the armored vehicle visibly flinched when he saw us.

As we climbed inside, the driver glanced over and asked:

"What about those Taegeuk Flag people who went in with you?"

Shin Nain clasped his hands together in prayer without removing his gas mask.

Lee Sejun removed his gas mask and squeezed his eyes shut.

Only I answered.

Removing my own mask, I looked at the driver.

"They aren't coming back."

"Let's go."

Only then did the armored vehicle's hatch close.

The wheels began to turn.

At last, I slumped forward and exhaled deeply.

There were no eternal flames.

No demons overseeing punishment.

And yet—

We were in hell.