Free Web NovelThere’s a saying: when a child is at fault, it’s really the fault of the adults.
Some agree. Some say that’s not true.
Then what about someone like Park Hae-min?
“You can’t fix him. Even after hearing that the Savior Kang Han-min was counting on him, he couldn’t control himself and stole again. I hate to say it, but honestly, cutting his hand off might be the only solution.”
Moon Yang-gyeong saw Park Hae-min’s actions as a kind of psychological disorder, attributing full blame to him alone.
“Kleptomania? That’s a mental illness. And he’s into gambling too? Honestly, he should be grateful the Rifts opened.”
Cheon Young-jae agreed.
But not everyone saw it that way.
“Well, who knows what drove him to that. He admitted it was wrong—maybe we could give him one more chance? He probably doesn’t know how else to relieve stress besides stealing.”
Surprisingly, Woo Min-hee was the one who showed leniency.
Despite her notorious title as Red Mask, known for dragging away children, she always treated them fairly and by the book.
She wasn’t warm or friendly, but there was never any sign of organized or malicious abuse like what we saw in Tak Min-su’s territory.
The corpses piled up in the labs were the result of extreme testing, often stemming from parents’ selfish desires—or misplaced zeal to meet their expectations.
Perhaps after witnessing enough of those deaths, Woo Min-hee developed a different perspective from someone like Cheon Young-jae.
As for me, I’m fifty-fifty.
Kleptomania is a form of mental illness—a personal defect.
That’s something you can’t help.
But what matters more is the reaction that comes after.
Even after doing wrong, he acted so shamelessly.
Later, when Park Hae-min came to apologize to me privately, he uttered a word that perfectly encapsulated his inner thoughts.
“I guess I was at fault, but honestly? If you think about it... it’s the world’s fault. The world changed like this, so isn’t it natural for moral hazard to follow?”
That word was "fault."
At some point, it became more common—and more accepted—for people to blame the outside world rather than themselves for their wrongs or failures.
I remember something a panelist once said on a current affairs show before the war.
A world of blame.
Blame the country.
Blame your parents.
Blame your region, your school, even your genes.
That woman said it all with a bitter smile.
She’s probably dead now.
I don’t know who she blamed in the end, but if anyone deserved to blame the world, maybe it was her.
Anyway, Park Hae-min came to me and apologized. And I accepted it.
It seemed like the issue of his kleptomania was settled.
But most people know the truth.
Once blame starts, it rarely stops.
Still, he’s an elite.
*
The cause of Tunnel City’s collapse was uncovered.
It was horrifying.
Someone released a chemical weapon in the city.
Most of the survivors had been children—because the organization had already cast them aside, isolating them far from the main site, which allowed them to escape the disaster.
The symptoms of the dead, reconstructed from survivor testimony, pointed to a VX-type agent. But no residue was found, suggesting a new variant.
Unbelievable as it sounds, a girl with a torn left earlobe told a terrifying story.
“It was a monster. It showed up and dropped something... like a canister that released weird gas.”
If we believe her, then we’ve just made contact with a type of monster we’ve never seen before.
A monster capable of chemical warfare.
Considering we’ve already seen ones specialized in close combat, electronic warfare, and even those with human-like intelligence, it's not far-fetched to think chemical warfare monsters could exist too.
But seeing the increasingly malicious forms of these new types gives me chills.
Naturally, I went to Pyo Won-sang.
If anyone had information, it’d be him.
After hearing the full explanation, he let out a sigh and shook his head.
“This was done by humans.”
He showed me a photo.
A metal canister, presumably the gas container.
Terrifyingly, it had the emblem of the Republic of Korea printed on it.
“It’s called LVX gas. Similar to VX, but slightly weaker and dissipates quickly. The Defense Ministry requested that the compound allow troop deployment within 24 hours without special decontamination. While it’s less lethal, in confined spaces, it’s just as effective.”
“What about the monster?”
“That...”
Pyo Won-sang whispered into my ear. fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com
“It was an Awakened.”
“An Awakened?”
“A former Awakened, I guess. As you know, they get summoned.”
A single photo summed up the situation.
The tunnel had been attacked by people.
There were monsters, yes, but they did nothing.
Just like in Incheon, they came with humans and left with them.
“For reasons we don’t fully understand, Awakened who’ve been summoned seem to retain fragments of their humanity for a time. The unnatural stillness, silence—and the fact that cultists drag them around like sacred beasts—make sense in that context.”
I didn’t reply.
I’d already seen it firsthand.
And it was people from the Jeju Committee, like Pyo Won-sang, who gave me that experience.
He showed me another photo.
“That group is camped out in a tunnel near a wind power substation.”
When he looked at me, I had a rough idea of what he was about to ask.
“...Team Leader Ha Tae-hoon says it’s proving difficult. Not just the people, but the monster as well.”
“I’ll help.”
Give and take.
I don’t intend to take on risk for free. But in this world, you get nothing by just sitting around.
Besides, there’s someone I need to put to work.
*
“Thanks, Park Gyu. With you on board, it’s like gaining a whole army. I’ll give you a full briefing later.”
The policy is usually to ignore most survivors, but this group is armed with WMDs and uses them without hesitation—no commander, however naïve, could tolerate that.
Clearing out the human faction and monster around the substation under the 823-meter-tall Mount Hyoak’s wind turbines is directly tied to our survival.
That chemical weapon is a top-secret new model. How they got it is suspicious, but what’s worse is that they have the knowledge and skill to use it tactically.
Pyo Won-sang believes they must have backing.
Either one of the Big Three, a surviving warlord, or maybe even the “Wae-gu” faction rumored to be swarming the southern coast.
After Japan’s collapse, refugees flooded across the sea.
Those trying to reach Jeju drowned and became fish food, but the southern regions were largely unguarded.
The warlord-held zones are murky, but even the now-worthless message boards occasionally post sightings of Japanese refugees in Sokcho.
Coming from a recently functional state, they’re numerous—and many are powerful.
“Well. Let’s do it. If it’s an order.”
Today’s partner was supposed to be Park Hae-min, but somehow all three regular Awakened volunteered for this mission.
And so we ended up with a strange team: two Hunters and three Awakened.
I’d aimed to use Park Hae-min, but the other two insisted on joining, so I accepted.
Regardless of everything else, it’s clear these three are aware of their “elite” status.
Click—
The way they handled their weapons, the way they prepared mentally, the look in their eyes.
The first virtue of an elite is not fearing battle.
More accurately, it’s being afraid—but not letting fear consume you.
I believe that second trait is the more noble one.
“What are we supposed to do with three regular Awakened?”
Cheon Young-jae, a man educated by the internet, grumbled about the team makeup—but it’s not our concern.
The main force is Ha Tae-hoon and the soldiers.
Our job is simple: if a monster is found, we eliminate it.
The monster ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) was estimated to be a Crown type.
A weaker variant of the Spider type—no territory, no minions.
A Crown type is a joke, like the one that Prophet—the Skelton impersonator—showed in his video.
If it were me, I wouldn’t even need to fire a gun. Just the axe would do.
The real threat is the humans.
“This is the New Government Reconnaissance Team of the Republic of Korea. We know you’re hiding in there. We want to talk. Please send someone who can represent your group.”
True to his sly Jeju roots, Pyo Won-sang didn’t show his face—just watched from the safety of his armored train and tried to initiate contact via broadcast.
But with that approach, who would respond?
“Fuck off!”
Ratatatat!
As expected, the people occupying the wind substation responded aggressively.
“We’ve got nothing to say to you! Get lost if you don’t want to die!”
It might seem reckless, but judging from what I’ve seen in China, they’re doing the right thing.
When people got caught with chemical weapons and still trusted the government enough to surrender?
The ringleaders were beaten to death until their eyes popped out.
The rest were shot.
The only survivors were a few raped young women and naive children.
And even they probably didn’t last long.
If we were dealing with kind-hearted Koreans, maybe it wouldn’t go that far. But punishment was unavoidable.
Same end either way.
There’s no reason to spare them.
“We’re starting the briefing. Park Gyu, can you attend?”
Ha Tae-hoon was reportedly trained in military tactics.
I’d heard one of the top scorers from the class before mine was trained in a U.S. military facility.
That kind of program was scrapped during my time after our Jang Ki-young got into a heated argument with an American officer.
“We’ll allow for negotiation, but plan to end it quickly.”
The power gap was overwhelming.
Our train had not just drones, but new armored vehicles too.
But this battle started with a standoff involving only a small number of infantry.
The real strike would come after.
Under cover of night, Ha Tae-hoon’s special ops team and our Hunter squad would assault the tunnel—enemy HQ.
We already knew the layout, including a secret entrance the enemy didn’t.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
As single-shot bursts echoed across the pale canyon, painting it in greyscale, we waited for nightfall.
Their weapons were decent—anti-tank gear, machine guns—but expensive and hard to maintain.
Their only drone had already been shot down by our killer drone, leaving them blind.
Ha Tae-hoon’s team and our Hunters began climbing the steep mountain path behind the enemy line.
Indeed, these so-called “Kang Han-min kids” lived up to their elite reputations.
Night, cliffs, jagged rock—they moved swiftly without complaint.
Han-na, Haru, or Ahn Seung-hwan wouldn’t have made it.
The standout was Park Hae-min.
The worst was Go Hee-seol.
She slipped.
She was harnessed, so it wasn’t life-threatening, but it could’ve delayed us.
I grabbed her arm and pulled her up.
“...Thanks.”
It was the first time this aggressive woman ever thanked me.
Park Hae-min was beaming with confidence.
He carried both firearms and a massive melee weapon on his back.
A Chinese bakdo.
I didn’t know where he got it, but judging from the ornate design and the simplified Chinese characters carved into the blade, I figured it was probably stolen.
“This way.”
Ha Tae-hoon pointed toward the brush.
Soldiers moved skillfully, clearing the foliage and digging.
Soon, a hidden hatch emerged beneath the soil.
An emergency maintenance passage for technicians.
The occupying forces didn’t know about it—so no guards, no surveillance.
Ssshhhh—
Lubricant was applied to the hatch.
To ensure everything went smoothly, Ha Tae-hoon added one more trick.
“Call in some artillery support. Not much—just ten rounds. But tight grouping.”
Fweeeee—BOOM!
Mortars began pounding the ground.
As the bombardment struck, soldiers opened the hatch.
Creeeeak—clang!
Despite the oil, the hatch made a loud noise from years underground.
But it was masked by the mortar fire.
The hatch opened, revealing pitch-black darkness.
A chasm into the abyss.
The plan was to send in drones first.
But someone jumped down before the soldiers even moved.
“I’ll go first.”
It was Park Hae-min.
As he passed me, he gave me that cocky look.
He wanted me to see it.
See what an elite looks like.
“What the hell. Is he fearless? I mean, sure, he’s got a reflex shield, but what’s he gonna do at point-blank?”
Cheon Young-jae scoffed.
Then a woman behind him spoke.
“It’s okay.”
Go Hee-seol.
Always acting like a battle maniac, but her face now looked different—calm, composed, and... sad?
“He used to be part of a kill team.”
“A kill team?”
“Sometimes, we go up against people, too.”
At those words, I remembered the Awakened group that attacked me at the Jeju outpost.
But that couldn’t be them.
They were low-level.
“Honestly, he’s better than me. He ruined it all with his sticky fingers, but still... he’s the real elite.”
Thunk—Thunk—Thunk—
Park Hae-min signaled from below.
All clear.
Soldiers began their descent.
As I prepared to go down, Go Hee-seol sighed beside me.
“...Unlike me.”
Then she dropped down into the hatch first.
“...”
There are things I want to say.
But right now, there’s work to do.
Click—
I checked my weapon and descended into the darkness I knew so well.
That familiar blackness wrapped around me.
