Free Web NovelBi stood frozen in front of the door, his mind blank.
Still, I’m B-class, better than F-class, right?
He felt like garbage for thinking of running off and leaving Iro-i behind. Roy was combat-class, but Bi was noncombat. Even if he opened the door, there was nothing he could do.
I should’ve worked out more.
Slapping his cheeks, Bi shook himself.
No. Trust him.
If it weren’t for Iro-i’s cleverness, he never would’ve snuck in. He moved with suspicious agility and had a rotten knack for tricks. He must have a plan.
Then...?
I’m the one screwed.
That guy would find a way out no matter what, but I wouldn’t. Iro-i was buying time, but I should have run farther. Clenching his teeth, Bi made up his mind. He gripped the leg of the cult statue he’d tucked at his side as tightly as he could. At least he had something. Not an ideal weapon, but better than nothing.
From now on, aim for the head only.
His teacher had said: even against a bigger opponent, never give up. There’s always an opening—and if you get one shot, go for the head.
Below the stairs was silent. No footsteps, no whisper.
Please let me return safely to my family. Amen.
Without realizing it, Bi prayed desperately, still clutching the cult statue. He took a deep breath, touched the railing, and peeked down one step at a time, half expecting the garden door to burst open. Every two steps he risked a glance behind.
His prayer must’ve worked. He reached the first floor without incident and quickly surveyed the lobby. Still empty.
This isn’t a ghost building—where is everybody?
When he’d come in, there’d been plenty of people. Outside, even the guard was gone. It was nothing like last time.
So I just walk out...? What was I worried about?
Powerping was the last thing on his mind, and Iro-i hadn’t asked for any special favors. But as soon as he stepped forward, a scream came from the worship hall.
“Eek! Th-the New Sky Lord is...!”
“S-someone took it? Where’d it go?!”
New Sky Lord? Bi’s head snapped toward the statue in his hand. They were looking for this...
Wasn’t it Jesus?
Sweat beaded on his palm. If they caught him, he wouldn’t be left alive. He’d thought to walk out boldly since he’d come in officially. Instead, he’d almost turned himself in.
Bi spun and dashed into a storage room.
Bang!
That was way too loud. Heart hammering, he froze by the doorknob as hurried footsteps pounded outside.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“The New Sky Lord statue’s gone!”
“Looks like a thief got in.”
“What?”
A low, heavy voice. The guard at the entrance, snarling that not even an ant could come and go without permission.
“By the way, the fifth-floor window’s shattered too.”
“What? Why are you telling me now!”
The sudden shout nearly stopped Bi’s heart. Trembling, he locked the door and frantically looked for a hiding place. His eyes fell on the mountain of boxes: the Powerping.
Damn that drug...!
Was Iro-i or Powerping my enemy? He hesitated, then thought: I should take a few bottles. If I escaped empty-handed, Iro-i would never let me hear the end of it.
He grabbed a handful of bottles, then spotted a narrow gap behind the boxes—just big enough to hide his scrawny body. Thank God for my stick-thin genes.
Ugh, so cramped!
He squeezed in as footsteps drew closer.
They can’t be coming here, right?
He tightened his grip on the statue—and they did.
Beep-beep-beep-beep—
The keypad clicked, then the handle turned.
No! Go away! Turn back! Please don’t come in!
As Bi squeezed his eyes shut, the door opened, flooding the dark storage with light—and then slammed shut.
“Not here!”
...Huh?
Bi stood frozen, barely breathing. They were just like Iro-i—stupid.
“Check upstairs!”
“Roger!”
The footsteps receded. His legs gave out, but wedged between wall and boxes he stayed upright.
Sob... I survived.
Lucky this time—but now what? With word out of an intruder, there was no walking out. Only one choice remained.
Turn myself in ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) to the Detention Bureau.
He might end up in a juvenile hall for trespassing and theft, but at least he’d live. Pulling out his phone, he dimmed the brightness and typed with one shaky hand:
[Pleeease save me ㅠ I’m trapped in Salvation Church basement. 1F storage. Cult stuff ㅠ I’m Iro-i.]
Iro-i had said to include his name, so maybe it would be fine. Now he just needed to hold on.
✧
Meanwhile, Bi and the torn-up Roy hid inside an empty fridge with no name tag. It was scorching hot outside, but inside was refreshingly cool.
Hope the ribs got sold okay.
He regretted not shoving them in the next fridge over when suddenly he heard voices by his head.
“I hope this one yields results. Why did M12 escape?”
“I know. It was our only success. It’s a shame we lost it because of the Detention Bureau.”
“But this new subject’s progress is solid.”
“True. Symptoms appeared faster than previous batches. But F17... it’s so slow compared to the others.”
Roy held his breath, eavesdropping. M12, subject, success—all disgusting words. And that they’d start coughing up blood tonight—so there were timed bombs down here that would turn humans into Blood Fiends.
This is insane.
Everyone except the one who saw the music video didn’t understand: the Awakening drug didn’t just awaken humans, it made them Blood Fiends. How had their prototype survived as human without turning? It had failed to go all the way, so it was a dud.
I thought he’d die without help, but he was tougher than expected.
He was lucky. And the reason Bi went through this was simple: to get the drug formula and maybe make an antidote. He couldn’t just watch more victims appear. Plus, he’d get revenge on Hojin and screw with them.
I planned to steal some drug and torch the place.
Who cares if the cult burns? If the Detention Bureau arrived in time, they might catch the first Blood Fiend of Chaos. And as the arson suspect, Bi already had cuffs on once.
Since they cuffed me first, maybe I should really burn it for fairness? freewebnσvel.cѳm
He’d be part of their team soon—cleaning up was natural. That’s why they scouted him. All for full support from the Detention Bureau.
Just hurry up and come do your job, you idiots!
Why were they gossiping by a corpse? Didn’t it freak them out? Roy shivered imagining the body below. He regretted it—better they chatted.
Shit.
He’d cramped inside the fridge, forehead on the cold steel, when a new researcher flung the door open—exactly the compartment he was in.
“Not here. Only in the tagged fridge—”
“Huh? But someone’s in here.”
“What?”
“Who put you here?”
“Move it. Wow, it’s real?”
So mundanely exposed. But the dead stay silent. Roy pressed motionless against the floor, holding his breath.
......
We’re screwed.
