Free Web NovelFor months... or even years? Faced with that overwhelming possibility, Yohan felt the darkness closing in—but he forced himself to stay positive. If he hadn’t met Lee Hyunmook, he would’ve been torn to shreds by that eyeball monster. So he should be thankful just to be alive.
“Yes, Mr. Hyunmook...! Let’s do our best together!”
When Yohan spoke brightly, Hyunmook stared at him like he was looking at some strange, unfamiliar life form. To be honest, even in his saner moments, Hyunmook seemed a little unhinged. But instead of pointing that out and being rude, Yohan just rummaged through his backpack again.
“Ah, would you like one of these? I found some jelly in a building yesterday.”
He pulled out one of the jelly packs he had carefully gathered in the pitch-black building. Holding the packet up to the firelight, Yohan tilted his head.
“Did we even have jelly like this in our country?”
Come to think of it, the packaging looked odd. The writing wasn’t in Korean—or English, or Chinese, or Japanese. The longer he stared at it, the more uncomfortable it made him. And the image on the wrapper was even weirder—some grotesque animal that didn’t look like it belonged on Earth.
“That’s probably not something you should eat...”
Hyunmook spoke in a flat tone, eyeing the jelly packet in Yohan’s hand. But it was precious food, so Yohan went ahead and opened it anyway. A strong fruity scent burst out.
“Smells fine to me!”
Relieved, Yohan pulled out a piece of jelly. It was oddly misshapen, like a defective product. Watching silently, Hyunmook took the jelly from his hand, unwrapped one himself, and popped it into his mouth. After a few chews, his expression twisted strangely. Yohan stiffened, thinking maybe it had gone bad—but what Hyunmook said next was the opposite of what he expected.
“...Why is it fine?”
Hyunmook slowly chewed the jelly with intense scrutiny, then pulled out another and ate it. Yohan, who had been worried since it had been abandoned in a rift, visibly relaxed.
“Maybe it’s just imported jelly!”
“...You’re sure you found it here? Not something you brought in your bag?”
“It was lying on the floor in the building where I was hiding. It was still in the wrapper, so it shouldn’t be dirty.”
Saying that, Yohan popped one into his mouth. The shape was a mess, but the flavor and texture were sweet and gelatinous, and it lifted his mood a little. He offered a few more, and Hyunmook stared blankly at the colorful jelly in his hand.
As he slowly chewed, a deep wrinkle formed between Hyunmook’s brows. Every now and then, he glared at the jelly like he didn’t understand it, and sometimes even looked suspiciously at Yohan. Not knowing why, Yohan awkwardly avoided his gaze to avoid provoking the man who was, at best, only marginally sane. Then, summoning his courage, he tried to change the subject.
“S-So... were you staying around here?”
“...No.”
Worried that Hyunmook might not want to talk, Yohan glanced at him to read his mood. But he didn’t look irritated or annoyed, so Yohan continued.
“Oh, I see! Then I must’ve been really lucky. It’s a relief you happened to be passing by here. You saved my life.”
Yohan forced a cheerful tone. Hyunmook seemed to drift into thought, then swallowed his jelly slowly and spoke.
“Maybe... I thought I saw sunlight nearby.”
“Sunlight? I stayed there the whole time and it was pitch black for two days straight.”
Yohan tilted his head. He’d been holed up in a dark building with no trace of light. If there had been sunlight coming in, especially through a window, he would’ve noticed. Still, rather than correct Hyunmook, he tried to come up with a plausible excuse.
“Maybe when the Abyss opened, the sunlight came through somehow?”
“...Maybe. Or maybe I just saw a hallucination.”
Hyunmook muttered vaguely. Yohan nearly blurted out, “Do you know how to get out of here?”—but he swallowed it down. If there were a way out, and it were possible, someone as powerful as Hyunmook would’ve escaped long ago. He wouldn’t be wandering around like a deranged ghost, having lost his team and mind. That dark hopelessness pressed down again, and Yohan sighed.
“What day is it out there now?”
Yohan didn’t find the question strange. In a place like this, time must feel like it crawled. And with no real night or day, there was no way to keep track of it.
“The day I came in here was November 7th, 2035.”
At Yohan’s reply, Hyunmook suddenly trembled—then started laughing.
It was clearly not a happy laugh. That eerie sound made Yohan shrink back in fear. He clutched the jelly tight to his chest and slowly scooted backward. Hyunmook tilted his head back as he laughed, then slumped forward. The laughter faded into low chuckles. From him, Yohan could feel a deep, suffocating sense of despair.
“Ha... haah... It’s been three years. Just three goddamn years...”
His muttering was so dark and menacing that Yohan couldn’t even offer a hollow “That must’ve been hard.” Was this what people called a killing aura? It felt like his insides were shriveling up. And maybe it was just his imagination, but the firelight seemed to dim around Hyunmook’s body.
Trembling with fear, Yohan tried to inch away—when Hyunmook reached out. His hand grabbed the bench he was sitting on.
Screeeeech!
“Ghk...!”
Yohan barely held in a scream, clapping a hand over his mouth. The bench scraped loudly as it dragged toward Hyunmook, taking Yohan with it. After all that fuss about noise attracting monsters, Hyunmook himself made a racket—then calmly warned him with a blank face.
“Don’t. This is the edge of the safe zone. Beyond this, I can’t guarantee your survival.” freewebnσvel.cøm
“Y-Yes, hic—okay, I’ll be careful...”
Yohan replied with a hiccup lodged in his throat. Hyunmook stared at his hiccup like it was some alien thing. Yohan couldn’t even point out how rude it was to gawk at people like that—he just lowered his gaze.
“You scare easy, don’t you?”
“N-No, hic, not really...”
Yohan stammered with a polite answer, trying to straighten up. But Hyunmook twisted his upper body to get a closer look at Yohan’s face. He didn’t even blink—it was truly terrifying and suffocating.
“Are you crying?”
“N-No, I’m not...”
Despite the double denial, Yohan’s eyes were already brimming with tears. Honestly, he was a crybaby and easily scared—but it wasn’t just because of Hyunmook. It was the terror of the whole situation. That even someone like Hyunmook could fall into such despair here—it made everything feel ten times more hopeless. Then, as if flipping a switch, Hyunmook’s voice softened.
“Don’t worry. No matter what happens, I’d never hurt another person.”
Yohan couldn’t even answer—he just nodded quickly. A teardrop fell and darkened a spot on the dusty floor. For a long while, only his hiccups broke the silence.
* * *
“Mmm...”
Yohan stirred awake, groggy from thirst and hunger. The first thing he saw was Hyunmook’s broad back, crouched close and facing away. He must’ve stayed like that all night.
‘...Why the hell did I fall asleep like this?’
He remembered dozing off by the campfire, lost in gloomy thoughts. He’d curled up somewhere warm, but now he was crammed between Hyunmook and the wall. Yohan cautiously spoke.
“...Mr. Hyunmook?”
Though he heard him, Hyunmook didn’t respond—he was humming. Cheerfully. He’d slipped back into his deranged state overnight. It had to be because of [contamination].
[Contamination] happened when someone stayed in a rift too long or fought its monsters too often. Sometimes it showed as depression, mania, or strange marks and boils. In severe cases, the body warped in unnatural ways. At that point, forced confinement was the only option. Otherwise, they’d lose control and have to be taken down by fellow Awakened.
And this wasn’t just a rift—it was the [Abyss]. What could someone like Hyunmook have become after spending three years in here? Yohan completely understood why he’d gone mad. Hyunmook was undoubtedly in a serious state of contamination. And unfortunately, once the mind and body were contaminated, there was no going back...
‘If I stay here long enough, it’ll happen to me too.’
The weaker the person, the higher the risk. Civilians were especially vulnerable. In fact, it was an unspoken rule in Awakening Parties that civilians weren’t allowed to stay longer than a week. Hyunmook had only survived this long because he was abnormally powerful. He hadn’t told Yohan to hang on for as long as possible last night for no reason.
‘Would I even last a month before going completely mad...?’
As a non-Awakened, Yohan didn’t have much hope. He couldn’t tell if this sinking feeling was from actual contamination or just despair. Either way, it was hard to shake. But he clenched his fists and mustered up his resolve. Even if he was going to die, he’d do everything he could before then. It was a sort of stubborn optimism—almost like defiance.
