Free Web NovelJust two days after Lee Chanha’s warning, Yohan underwent a series of complicated examinations.
The examiner smiled as he spoke.
“Once you complete this test, you’ll be able to leave here. You won’t be able to meet your family until the government makes an announcement, though.”
“Really? This is the last test?” ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm
Yohan, who had been passively enduring the tiresome examinations, brightened at once. Having his blood drawn again and again, being shoved into machines over and over—it was all truly irritating.
“At this level, we can practically say there’s no contamination at all.”
Inside, Yohan nodded vigorously. He had the ability to °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° never become contaminated. At this point, no one could be cleaner than him....
“No, honestly, considering you stayed in the Abyss, it’s practically a miracle you’re this free of contamination.... Anyway, you’ll be discharged today or tomorrow. Congratulations.”
Since contamination had yet to be perfectly defined, researchers could only guess at it through tears and endless work. They would draw blood, stare at cell mutations under a microscope, scan the inside and outside of the body—nothing more. But even that was enough to prove contamination. What’s more, even if contamination was detected, it didn’t always mean automatic quarantine.
For example, among the active Awakeners right now, there was the Special Suppression Division and its captain, Jung Siyoung. Even with severe contamination in her left arm, she was forced to overwork her body—because with Lee Hyunmook gone, it would be catastrophic if Jung Siyoung also stepped out. People understood this well, and perhaps that was why expectations for Hyunmook’s return were particularly high this time.
“Ah, Yang Yohan. There’s still a final interview process before discharge.”
“An interview?”
Interviews had been as numerous as the tests themselves. The same questions repeated, details dug into endlessly even when there was nothing more to say. Yohan’s face darkened as soon as he heard the word “interview.” Especially since he had things to hide. It seemed the government knew Yohan and the others were concealing something important.
Above all, they pressed relentlessly about how he had erased contamination. He was tired of saying he knew nothing, guilty too. Government officials kept bringing up those who, because of contamination, had been “humanely executed” or locked away forever until death, and the huge costs involved....
Part of him wanted to confess about Purification and heal everyone. But he kept quiet, trusting in Hyunmook. Today, too, he thought the interview would be the same—until he saw who was waiting. It wasn’t Jung Siyoung. Instead, a middle-aged man greeted him with a bright smile.
“Ah, Yang Yohan? Nice to meet you. I’m this person here.”
The business card said: Commissioner Kim Jongseok, Rift Management Agency.
Yohan, who had gone straight from school into the Abyss, only vaguely assumed “commissioner” must be a high position.
“Want something to drink? Green tea? Coffee? We’ve got soda, too. What was it, you said in the Abyss you couldn’t get anything like this?”
It was as if he were being treated like someone who had returned from the wilderness, even rudely so. The Abyss had indeed been more brutal, more dangerous, filthier and fouler than the commissioner described, but Yohan took the drink anyway. Even after returning, he still hadn’t tired of soda.
“Um, is there something more you need me to say? I already told you everything about the Abyss....”
“Ah, no, today’s meeting isn’t for that. Yang Yohan, I was wondering if you’d be interested in working at the Rift Management Agency.”
The moment he heard that, Lee Chanha’s warning came rushing back. So this was the “good offer” the government had mentioned! Yohan steeled himself once more. No matter what offer came, he wouldn’t be swayed.
“You’re at the age to be worrying about jobs, right? With your experience in the Abyss, you’d get preferential treatment as a career hire. The Agency isn’t as underpaid as people think. Dangerous? All Awakeners work in dangerous conditions anyway. But here, insurance is guaranteed.”
Even if they offered him a hundred billion won, Yohan wouldn’t work at the Rift Management Agency. Still, the terms were generous. Why would they try to recruit a low-tier Awakener, nothing more than a common strength-enhancement type, with conditions like this? Even without Chanha’s warning, he wouldn’t have fallen for it. Yohan answered politely.
“I appreciate the offer, but I just came back from the Abyss, so I’d like to rest a while.”
“Of course. You should rest. Must have been so hard, huh? Oh, I read the reports. Everyone went through hell in there. Then how about this—why not just sign the contract now, and take a year off before you start?”
The man’s persistence was relentless. Even when Yohan declined politely, he kept sweetening the conditions, desperate to secure a contract. If he kept refusing, he risked arousing suspicion. What to do? After a moment of hesitation, Yohan made a big decision.
“Uuugh....”
Suddenly, Yohan burst into tears. Commissioner Kim Jongseok, who had been persuading him so enthusiastically that he was spitting, was caught completely off guard. Yohan didn’t care—he dove into full sobbing.
“C-Commissioner, you don’t understand... it’s too much.... In there, uhhhg, do you know how terrifying it was...? I thought... I thought I was really going to die...! The monsters, no matter how many you kill, they just keep coming, and sob, hic, hic.... Honestly, my family’s fine, I’m not broke, so why would I—”
It wasn’t hard for him to cry. Coming out of the Abyss had been such a joy, but strangely it also left him prone to tears. He had always been quick to cry—just a little sad thought, and the tears would pour. Lately, even just remembering Hyunmook and the others suffering in the Abyss left his pillow soaked.
So he let it all out. The tears he usually kept in check, he gave up holding back. They streamed down like a broken faucet as Yohan cried bitterly.
“Have you ever seen an eyeball this big...?! With teeth on it?! And, and, uuugh, I thought it was a subway, but—hic, hic—it wasn’t, oh God.... What was that thing even supposed to be...?! Giant worms and sea worms, w-why were they that big?! I nearly puked, it was so disgusting.... I just wanna go home.... Please, just let me go home... uuwaaah....”
The longer it went on, the less his words could be made out, his speech slurred by sobs. He babbled like a drunk: I miss my family, I’m terrified, how can you tell me to fight monsters again.... Eventually Kim Jongseok pressed his forehead as if he had a headache, sighed, and said patiently:
“Yes... fine. Just... if you change your mind later, make sure you call me, alright? Don’t forget my card.”
Still bawling, Yohan clutched the business card as he left. Outside, a Special Suppression Division soldier waiting in the hall looked baffled. Wiping his tears on his sleeve, Yohan returned to his isolation room and sat quietly on the bed. Sniffling, he thought:
‘If this had been back in the days of forced conscription, I’d have had no chance.’
When the rifts first burst open and tens, hundreds of people died daily, every Awakener had been subject to forced conscription. In a national crisis, it had been unavoidable.
But the treatment was no better than that of living weapons—nothing but coercion. The only advantage had been that the byproducts harvested from slain monsters carried high value. Researchers, against all odds, had developed techniques to separate contamination from those byproducts. The tragedy was that the same couldn’t be done for living beings.
In time, as society stabilized, Awakeners resisted en masse, and the conscription era ended.
Back then, Awakener organizations had argued that a local vigilante group could protect citizens better than distant soldiers. With distrust in public authority strong and public safety weak, vigilantes sounded convincing to civilians too.
Through countless protests, debates, and the government’s limited budget to maintain expanded armies, time passed, and vigilantes evolved into what were now called guilds. Exploring rifts, harvesting profits, occasionally finding Eternal Stones, selling Awakening Party services, running security firms—these were professions people desperately wanted.
At the same time, mercenaries being effectively the private armies of the wealthy stirred controversy, threatening public order. Unless the rift phenomenon ended and no more Awakeners appeared, chaos and conflict were bound to continue.
Yohan purified the sweet drink he had brought back from Kim Jongseok and sipped it, thinking. The Sunrise Team would surely resume their activities. As for him, he truly intended to rest at home, just as he’d told the commissioner. Every word he had spoken had been true. And yet... he couldn’t shake a lingering regret.
‘Could I join the Sunrise Team? Even if not, since we’re close, we’d keep in touch, right? After surviving the Abyss together, they’d at least share their phone numbers, wouldn’t they?’
Now that he was out, seeing the news, seeing people’s reactions, he realized anew just what kind of stature Hyunmook and the Sunrise Team held in Korea. Not only in Korea, but worldwide, they were legends.
So his confidence slowly ebbed. The thought that most often struck him was that, Purifier or not, maybe he wouldn’t hold such an important role among them anymore. Perhaps, in some ways, he’d been more useful back inside the Abyss....
‘No! What nonsense is that? Ban those crazy thoughts, ban them!’
The idea that life in the Abyss might have been better in any respect made him flush with shame. Thank God no one could read his mind.
‘Come to think of it, everyone’s abilities look different now, even their power feels completely changed. What will people think? Especially Hyunmook’s lightning—the color alone is different.... And some of the other abilities, I definitely can’t show them in public.’
As Yohan recalled the eerie powers he had seen Hyunmook unleash in the Abyss, a sudden longing welled up in his chest.
‘I miss Hyunmook....’
Since leaving the Abyss, he had seen Yoon Seungryong, Seo Yakrin, Joo Hoyoung, even Lee Chanha. But not once had he seen Lee Hyunmook. He knew well that Hyunmook, now a returned high-tier Awakener, must be impossibly busy. Still, the absence stung.
As he sighed and fiddled with the empty can, a knocking sound came from the glass door. Thunk-thunk. Thinking it was another examiner, Yohan raised his head—and his eyes widened.
