200 Chapter
200 Chapter
Light poured down.
The tempered blade flashed—cutting with conviction.
Twin blades danced in both hands and sky, like ritual scythes.
AaaaAAAAAH…!
The blades rained down upon the centipede cloaked in the appearance of a corrupted monk.
These were not the standard guillotines used to subdue minor evil—like the ones that struck Deputy Jin Nasol in the undersea palace, or the one embedded in my shoulder back in the Dream Incubator.
No—these were ritual-grade.
At least twice the size, adorned with vibrant tassels and finely crafted bells.
Made for exorcism.
Weapons forged to oppose malevolent “entities.”
Urrgghhhrrrrraaaah…!
The corrupted being—no longer preaching the truth of the world, merely mumbling its grotesque realization—shuddered.
Its mimicry of a human mouth spat out madness. Each time it thrashed, arms shaped like human limbs tore from its body and crumbled into ash on the floor.
A rite for appeasement.
Thud.
The centipede convulsed. The Seonang Shrine’s pillars and roof beams began to collapse.
Splinters seemed ready to rain down upon the crowd, but—
“Do not be alarmed.”
Agent Cheongdong’s firm voice rang out.
Clear bullets from his glass hand-cannon embedded themselves midair, surrounding the shrine—trapping the centipede within.
搏
Each round glowed with inscribed talismans—precisely effective, acting like spiritual seals.
“It should be safe now.”
“……”
“The most difficult and meticulous step in resolving supernatural disasters involving ritualistic or shamanistic forms—”
He looked to me.
“—is always this: revealing the hidden identity.”
Of course.
You can’t destroy what you don’t recognize.
And the reason the SDRA failed to identify the Nameless Brilliant Sect preacher buried beneath this shrine—why they failed to realize what was empowering it—
Was because of all the institutional resistance.
The notes Agent Choi had written in frustration:
—Well… honestly, the branch office wanted to investigate this more seriously. But other departments blocked it. Even disbanding the village was denied.
Every year they’d say: “Just go rescue them again next year.” “There’s no conclusive link between disappearances and the festival.”
But apparently, some bureaucrats were being bribed by Jisan Village.
So hands were tied.
—Having the holiday festival repeat every year means the disaster is long and cyclical, right? But actual investigation time is way too short.
And especially with ghost stories like this—ones with long history and distorted rituals—it becomes even harder to find the original form.
With so many urgent rescues to perform, the team could barely maintain status quo.
—So it’s always frustrating. You can tell something is behind it all, but unless you find it, you can’t do anything—no exorcism, no cleansing. I hate that part.
—Wait, Podo, don’t you dare read this and decide to go dig up the village secrets by yourself! We do things as a team, got it? ^^
But—
I did.
“You were the one who uncovered its identity.”
I lifted my head.
“You pulled it out from beneath the shrine. And now that it’s been revealed…”
Agent Cheongdong smiled.
“This is where we shine the brightest.”
This was—
The specialty of Team Black Tortoise.
“The traditional purging of evil.”
“Sir!”
A voice called from the roof.
Agent Choi hurled his guillotine skyward. The ghostfire he held ignited with blazing light—like a second sun.
The flames swept the shattered shrine floor to ceiling.
AaaaAAAAAH!
The dark, damp hollow built to nurture the centipede was consumed.
Bright, warm yang energy flooded in to replace it.
Auuuuuughh!
The centipede, now stripped of many human arms, opened its mouth again—but its message could no longer take shape in human language.
Team Black Tortoise's systematic containment procedure drove it relentlessly into a corner.
First: Purification of the ritual space.
Driving out the environment that welcomes malign influence.
Second: Containment.
“Now!”
The bullets fired earlier by Cheongdong constricted around the shrine.
The centipede, exposed to blinding brightness and missing half its limbs, writhed and thrashed.
But their strategy pierced through its essential and elemental weaknesses—severing its connection to the incomprehensible evil truth it had been channeling.
And then came the end.
Third:
“Sealing.”
䥗
A final round fired from Cheongdong’s glass cannon.
Empowered by an advanced sealing rite, crafted by the finest artisans of Baridegi Workshop, the bullet embedded itself into the entity’s forehead.
Thunk.
And then—
From the bullet embedded in the creature’s head, the contents of its body were sucked inward.
Oooooooooh!
The centipede collapsed into itself, compressing with an otherworldly rupture.
Not just its body—but the shrine, the ground beneath, the liquor, and the entire spiritual territory polluted by the Centipede Acolyte—were pulled inward.
Into the glass bullet.
AAAAAAHHH!
Its voice rang out one last time—
And was cut off.
……
Clink.
The glass bead, now blackened, dropped into the crater where the shrine had once stood.
Roughly the size of a fist.
Etched on its surface was the image of a centipede—deeply carved.
The rugged, bold lines glimmered with a golden hue, like a sacred fragment of the Brilliant Nameless Sect's scripture—but that light was quickly swallowed by the sealing force.
The surface of the glass hardened—cooling into solid silver.
“……”
“……”
Agent Cheongdong walked over to the pit, picked up the silver bead, examined its front and back—
Then placed it in his blessing pouch.
And declared:
“Disaster resolved.”
“Phew!”
Agent Choi collapsed to the floor, still gripping his blade.
“Are the civilians okay?”
“Yes. They’re stabilizing.”
The outsiders and villagers—those who had been exposed to the horror—were either unconscious, wandering in a daze, or staring blankly at nothing.
It seemed the disappearance of the Centipede had left them temporarily stripped of reason—consumed by emptiness.
The festival musicians had vanished, leaving only their instruments and clothes.
Here and there, beneath the collapsed garments, bone fragments and dirt could be seen…
And as I swept my gaze across it all—it landed on Agent Choi’s back.
“……”
He sat silently.
Staring at the pit where the Seonang Shrine had been.
…What’s he thinking?
This was a spy who would die in a month if he didn’t leak information from SDRA.
And this was the agent who’d risked his life—after preparing for a single day—to descend into the provinces, face a monstrous centipede, and save the traitor.
What the hell is he thinking right now?
“……”
I didn’t want to know.
Because once I figured it out, the thoughts and tasks I’d have to deal with would exhaust me.
They always did.
But strangely—
Right now, for just a second—
I kind of wanted to hear the answer.
To know what he was thinking.
“…Podo.”
“…!”
“Wanna come over?”
Without thinking, I stepped toward him.
Agent Choi didn’t turn to look at me.
But as I got close, he reached a hand behind him—
Toward me.
“It’s done. Let’s go home.”
……
……
I took his hand.
Agent Choi pulled me up lightly as he rose to his feet.
“Up we go!”
That familiar smile had returned to his face.
And then he started making a fuss again.
“Aigo, my aching joints… I take one day off and the kid goes and gets himself kidnapped. This is why we can’t rest.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault, Podo, is it? I heard the caller wasn’t in their right mind. Can’t be helped if it was an emergency.”
“……”
“But next time, don’t be so reckless, okay?”
He said it as if, of course there will be a next time.
“……Yes.”
It was strange, but somehow, things felt just a bit better.
Even though nothing had truly been resolved or progressed.
“……”
My head felt slightly clearer.
“That’s the spirit. That’s what makes Team Black Tortoise #1!”
Agent Choi patted my back and then walked off toward where Agent Cheongdong was handling the sealed bead.
I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly.
Yeah.
At least today, I’d survived.
And having seen SDRA agents successfully seal an anomalous entity through traditional exorcism techniques—maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.
Everyone else survived too, for that matter.
…My heart felt lighter.
The brilliant ghostfire had vanished, but the sun was now shining overhead, glinting warmly.
Hmn.
Then, as I lowered my gaze, I spotted the three villagers who’d carried my palanquin body earlier—collapsed beside the empty shrine zone.
But—only three.
Baek Saheon.
I turned my gaze toward the spot where the incident reporter had stood.
He’d been one of the four bearers. Positioned to the left of the shrine, originally—but….
Hmn.
He was gone.
Seemed he had slipped away the moment things had started going sideways.
Not that strange, really.
In fact, in this case, probably the smartest move.
Even so, now that my strength had returned, it felt just a bit irritating.
That bastard shoved me into the sacrificial seat and I went through all that hell….
Still, the knowledge he’d shared overnight—despite the risks—had been undeniably useful.
I guess he won’t need to come back here anymore.
—No, you have to return here every year. Just running away? That’ll only drive you mad and make you hang yourself!
According to what Baek Saheon had said at dawn, villagers needed to return regularly to Jisan to escape the madness of the “Truth of the World.”
No matter how many times they soaked the centipede in alcohol, crushed it with a gold effigy, and sealed it under the Seonang Shrine—it had already touched them too deeply.
But now that the original source—the Centipede Acolyte—was gone… maybe it really would be better.
Hmm.
I was about to look away—when I spotted something odd.
Something lying where Baek Saheon had stood.
“……”
I shifted slightly and bent down to pick it up.
It was a folded paper—no, something more like a tiny origami boat.
A message?
I decided to check it later and tucked it into my pocket.
Then, when I looked up—my eyes met Agent Choi’s.
“……”
“……”
He kept smiling, then turned away and said breezily,
“Good thing we weren’t late, right? I literally came running the second I finished prepping.”
“If you hadn’t been up in Seoraksan, you could’ve come sooner. Why did you even go there on your day off?”
“Ahahaha… Just needed a little healing, you know? Fresh air, good water. Oh—but hey! There he is—the real MVP who made sure we reached Podo in time.”
Agent Choi pointed toward a distant spot.
And there—stood Deputy Eunhaje.
“Yes. He told us exactly where the shrine was.”
“…!”
Deputy Eunhaje had been waiting by the village entrance, and upon spotting them, had directed them straight to the Seonang Shrine.
Thanks to that, the agents had arrived before I could become the centipede’s new arm….
He must’ve been busy himself.
I felt grateful.
I tried not to stare blankly.
“He recognized Cheongdong. Oh, look—he’s nodding to us.”
Deputy Eunhaje dipped his head slightly as our eyes met.
Then melted into the crowd.
Or—at least, that’s what he probably thought, and how I perceived it too.
But to someone with razor-sharp perception, it clearly hadn’t gone unnoticed.
Because he was the only one moving with purpose amidst the dazed and vacant.
“Shh.”
Agent Choi, peering intently while holding a finger to his lips, frowned slightly.
“He’s heading toward the abandoned houses. Hmm.”
Tucking away his blade, he smoothed his clothes.
“Let’s follow. His destination’s odd… and you said he’s a reporter, right?”
“Yes.”
“Such a convenient profession for infiltration…”
That deduction made my spine go cold.
He mustn’t get caught.
I didn’t want to put Deputy Eunhaje at risk—or push Agent Choi any further into Director Ho’s hands.
That would be total catastrophe.
“Hm.”
Agent Choi exchanged a few quiet words with Cheongdong, then turned to me.
He scanned me slowly, then spoke:
“Podo… you can go out and rest now if you’d like.”
No.
“If it’s okay, I’d like to accompany you.”
“Alright. Let’s go together.”
“……”
Did he notice?
Even if he didn’t, his kindness made my stomach twist.
Still, I quickened my pace to follow them.
A short while later.
We spotted Deputy Eunhaje—crouched at the edge of the old well, peeling back part of the wooden covering and peering inside.
“…So it’s not that.”
He muttered.
“Citizen? Are you looking for something?”
He glanced up—wearing an almost incredulous expression.
“And here I thought you guys were just regular civil servants… Tch. Aren’t you more like those—what do you call them? Manga characters?”
“…Manga…”
“If you’re going undercover, might as well go full 007, no? Haha, this one here—he likes that nickname, I hear!”
“…Ha.”
Agent Choi gave Cheongdong a hearty slap on the back, then raised a finger to his lips.
Cheongdong winced and shut his eyes. Poor guy.
Deputy Eunhaje shrugged, watching them.
“Anyway, don’t worry. I won’t be saying anything.”
“Thank you!”
But I saw it.
The unspoken glances exchanged between the agents.
Soon, SDRA’s Phoenix Division would be descending to clean up.
And they’d be executing a large-scale memory wipe—harmless to civilians, but thorough.
I just hoped… the deputy made it out before that happened.
Cold sweat trickled down my neck.
Meanwhile, the agents returned to the core topic.
“So what were you looking at in the well?”
“Oh, I heard there was some odd legend about it. Something about it leading somewhere mysterious.”
He pulled out a cigarette—but tucked it back quickly.
“Heard some rumors about bizarre happenings during the village festival, so I came to take a look…”
He tapped the well rim with his finger.
“But… doesn’t seem all that special.”
“Ahh.”
Agent Choi nodded, then pulled something glowing from his coat—as if to help him investigate.
A spirit lantern—infused with dokkaebi fire.
Its crimson glow lit up the well's shadow.
“Let’s get a closer look!”
“…With that, specifically?”
“Yes, yes.”
Agent Choi grinned.
“And this lamp, you see—it doesn’t just light up dangerous places…”
He twirled it.
“It also reacts to them. It detects danger!”
“Ah.”
“Watch—see how it flashes red? That means—”
“That means?”
“That something non-human is nearby.”
“……”
“……”
“Who are you?”
Silence.
“The one who guided us earlier was clearly human—but you aren’t.”
“……”
The figure wearing Deputy Eunhaje’s face lifted his head.
That soft, gentle smile—
“Sharp as always.”
“……!”
“Hello, Agents. We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
“Agent Choi!”
Agent Cheongdong moved to shield me—but Choi held out a hand to stop him.
Even as he did, the fake Deputy Eunhaje kept smiling—sweetly, warmly. Something he would never do.
“Oh, I had actually asked him to take care of something else… but it seems he ended up heading to the wrong place. So I’m here to help.”
Director Ho.
Whether this was a disguise or possession—I didn’t know.
But it was him.
Standing before us, in Eunhaje’s form.
“Was there something you wanted to say to me?”
No.
He’s baiting us.
We couldn’t let this conversation go on.
Agent Cheongdong was here.
If Agent Choi breaks the taboo…!
And even if he didn’t—it might drag Cheongdong in. Or even Eunhaje.
The cycle would repeat.
No.
I clenched my teeth, waiting for a chance to interrupt. I was about to speak—when—
“Perfect timing. That’ll make this easier… now that you know.”
Agent Choi lifted his blade—
And pointed it at me.
“…?!”
“Podo.”
“Agent Choi, what are you—”
Clink, clink.
“You’ve had it rough.”
“……”
“You’ll be okay now.”
Clink, clink.
“Your taboo.”
“……!?”
What was he saying—if he phrased it like ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) that, now—
……
…Wait.
I realized.
Yes. Agent Choi can’t speak of what happened to him last night.
That I’m a spy.
That I planned to steal SDRA information.
Or even that he has a taboo himself.
All forbidden.
But—
“I figured it out. There is something I can do.”
Taboos about me? Don’t exist.
Saying “one of our team members has a supernatural taboo” isn’t prohibited.
Trying to lift it? That’s allowed.
“…!”
“Finding someone legit up in Seoraksan was a pain, too.”
Agent Choi looked up at the sky.
“They’ve arrived.”