The Damned - Chapter 55

“Shit, this is bad luck. Damn it… I sealed everything on the west side, so how the hell did it get out?”

Cho Chang-Geon, looking as if he was at a loss, clawed at his short hair in frustration. He stepped in to block Jae-Hyeop, who was about to dash into the space where Yeo-Woon had vanished.

“Ah! Hyung! You can’t!”

“Why not? I’ll go in and bring him back.”

In a moment of carelessness, Yeo-Woon had been possessed by a wandering spirit and disappeared.

The mistake had been underestimating the situation, assuming there was no reason Yeo-Woon would use his powers here. Unable to explain spirits or malevolent ghosts, they had made up a lie, saying this land nullified supernatural abilities. That lie had led to this disaster.

“You know why. Your skill, Hyung…”

The truth was, the salt flats didn’t simply nullify abilities—they absorbed them and reflected them back.

This was land where desire or greed should not take hold.

Jae-Hyeop, who specialized in offensive skills, might try to rescue Yeo-Woon but end up slitting his own throat with his own blades.

“Then what the hell do we do? The kid’s gone, and you expect me to just sit here and do nothing?”

“Isn’t there anyone in the rear with a defensive skill?”

Chang-Geon’s suggestion made Jae-Hyeop rub his face in frustration.

The infamous disposal unit, known for being full of killers who believed the best defense was offense, was useless in this situation. Though they’d brought along dozens of people, none were of any help right now.

Jae-Hyeop, after nearly tearing out his hair, finally looked up.

Whether it was from anger or despair, his expression was deeply troubled. His bloodshot eyes betrayed his inner turmoil.

“Radio Hyung. President Moon has a mental-type skill.”

***

When Yeo-Woon opened his eyes, he found himself in a space surrounded by mirrors.

Dizzy, as if he’d ingested a potent drug, Yeo-Woon looked into one of the mirrors. The first thing he saw was a child who had led him here.

The seven-year-old version of Yeo-Woon, head bleeding and crying, didn’t remember anything at the time. Instinctively, Yeo-Woon approached the mirror, trying to wipe the tears from the child’s face.

At that moment, someone asked the young Yeo-Woon,

“Hey, little one. Why are you crying? Where’s your mom? Oh no, look at you bleeding.”

A chilling sense of dread coursed through Yeo-Woon’s body.

When the stranger’s hand touched him, the young Yeo-Woon ran away in fright.

As the child vanished, another version of Yeo-Woon, about ten years older, emerged from the adjacent wall.

This was the Yeo-Woon who sold chewing gum and picked pockets. His face, streaked with grime, always bore fresh bruises, but at least he no longer cried.

Watching this, Yeo-Woon felt a mix of weariness and anguish. He was an adult now; how long would these memories continue to haunt him?

“Ah, damn it… Enough already.”

Feeling around the floor, Yeo-Woon picked up a hard, salt-like crystal, intending to smash the mirror.

Just then, a familiar voice spoke.

“Hey, Yeo-Woon. From now on, you’re my son.”

“Your son? What’s so great about being your son?”

“Well, for starters, you get a last name. You won’t just be Yeo-Woon anymore; you’ll be Gil Yeo-Woon. Since I’m Gil Hyeong-Tae, you’d be Gil Yeo-Woon.”

“And what difference would that make?”

“Man, where you’re from, how you grew up, and how you live—all of that matters. That’s what a name is. Sure, it’s better to have it from birth, but who cares if you don’t? You can always make one. From now on, don’t call me boss; call me dad.”

“Ugh, gross. Dad? Seriously?”

It was a voice Yeo-Woon knew all too well.

Gil Hyeong-Tae’s voice, which he hadn’t heard in ages. If he’d known it would end so suddenly, maybe he would’ve given in and called him “Dad” once.

Lowering the salt crystal, Yeo-Woon sank to the ground in front of the mirror. He wasn’t even thinking about being trapped anymore. Instead, he listened closely to the long-lost voice of Gil Hyeong-Tae.

Before he knew it, he was back in a damp semi-basement room, lying on the floor.

“Hey, Yeo-Woon. Wake up.”

Why does it have to be that bastard, Cho Tae-Sook?

Watching the scene unfold as if on TV, Yeo-Woon scowled.

Cho Tae-Sook, barging into his place like it was his own, pulled a paper bag from his jacket and shook Yeo-Woon awake.

“What the hell… I’m trying to sleep. Why the drama?”

“Hey, you said you wanted fish-shaped bread. I begged the food cart lady to sell me some and brought it.”

“Whoa… Really? She said they don’t make them past 2 AM.”

“Yeah, well, who do you think I am? I kept pestering her until she gave in. I even carried it here to keep it warm.”

Did that really happen? He’d always thought the guy was just an ass.

Watching himself laughing over a bag of fish-shaped bread, Yeo-Woon felt a strange happiness well up in him. Without realizing it, tears began to fall.

“Hey, Yeo-Woon. Why does it make me so happy just to see you eat? Damn it. I should’ve been your dad in my past life or something.”

“If I were your son, I’d look like you, wouldn’t I?”

“Oh… You’re right. That wouldn’t be good. I like you because you’re handsome.”

“Ugh. Don’t ruin my appetite with that nonsense. Shut up and let me eat.”

“You always act like that when I compliment you. Hey, Yeo-Woon, you know I really love and cherish you, right? You don’t have a clue about my feelings for you. If you knew how much I love you, you’d have to forgive me at least once if I ever mess up really badly in the future.”

“Did you do something wrong to me?”

“No! I’m just saying! It’s a figure of speech! Don’t you know what a metaphor is?”

“Cho Tae-Sook, that bastard. And Gil Yeo-Woon, you idiot. What’s so great about someone like him anyway?” Yeo-Woon mumbled quietly.

There was no longer anything reflected in the mirror. Just Yeo-Woon, squatting in front of it, alone.

It was only then that Yeo-Woon realized he was trapped.

What was that child, anyway?

The hallucination Je-Hyeop had warned him about when they first entered the gate? Or was it a trap? Whatever it was, it was so cold that his lips turned blue. He felt like he would freeze to death if he stayed there any longer.

Deciding he couldn’t just sit and wait, Yeo-Woon started banging on the mirror and shouting.

“Hey! Executive Director! President! Sir! Please help me! Is anyone out there?”

But the more he moved, the colder he felt, as if an ice shard was roaming inside his body.

“So… cold…”

While blowing warm air onto his ice-cold hands and frantically banging on the mirror, he suddenly heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Are you okay?”

“President…? Is it really you?”

When Yeo-Woon turned around, it was Beom standing there.

Yeo-Woon looked around to see where Beom had come from. The surroundings were still only filled with mirrors, with no door or opening through which anyone could have entered.

Could it be another trick of the mirror? With tears welling up, Yeo-Woon asked cautiously.

“Then, is there a fake president too?” Beom chuckled lightly.

“No. Why would there be a fake president?”

“President… I’m trapped.”

“I know. That’s why I came to rescue you.”

“President…”

Yeo-Woon’s voice trembled like that of a goat. Without even realizing it, he rushed to Beom and hugged him tightly.

“Gil Yeo-Woon, you really can’t go a day without causing trouble, can you?”

Beom muttered complaints while patting Yeo-Woon’s back as he began to sob.

“I-I didn’t mean for this to happen. I really tried to do well this time. But the child was crying, so…”

“Enough. What matters is that you’re alive. Just keep causing trouble, and as long as you’re alive, I’ll find a way to rescue you every time.”

“But… isn’t it a bit much to keep doing this every time?”

“You’re joking at a time like this?”

Watching the child, oblivious to how many people outside were worried about him, Beom couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

When the first transmission came in, he couldn’t fully grasp the situation.

A disturbance had occurred.

In other words, Yeo-Woon had been possessed by a spirit. But there weren’t supposed to be any spirits in the eastern area Yeo-Woon had gone to.

Back when Cho Chang-Geon had been there a few years ago, all the spirits had been sealed in the west. And just today, Beom had personally confirmed the gate’s seal.

In the years since, a stray spirit must have latched on.

What rotten luck. For a mere stray spirit to end up in an S-Class gate.

And worse, it had run into Beom, making it clear that moving on would be impossible.

Just in case, Beom had sent his team members out and entered alone. He’d been observing Yeo-Woon from behind the mirror—the younger Yeo-Woon and the current one watching it all.

What was the point of showing this?

Even as he watched, the spirit’s form didn’t solidify. It seemed Yeo-Woon was firmly caught in the clutches of a particularly nasty ghost.

“Listen carefully, Gil Yeo-Woon. For us to get out of here, I need to grant whatever it is you desire. What is it that you want?”

Since Beom had used his abilities to enter this space, there was a price to pay.

“More precisely, I need to fulfill the wish of whatever’s possessing you. So, what is it that you—or it—wants?”

“What I… want?”

Yeo-Woon pondered deeply.

But as he gazed at Beom, only one thought surfaced.

“…Could you… just love me, please?”

“…What?”

“Please hug me, President. I… I’m so cold.”

Ah, so it was a lustful spirit.

Watching Yeo-Woon cling to his waist, Beom finally understood the nature of the ghost that had brought him all this way.