There was one thing that felt off.
For a while now, there had been a faint, inexplicable saltiness in the air. At first, Lee Haru thought it was just the lingering taste of the Spam he had eaten straight, without any rice.
But the sensation tugged at something buried in his memory. Frustrated, Haru grabbed a fistful of his hair, trying to remember.
His thoughts drifted backward—beyond this world, before he ever got possessed by the novel.
“Hey, when you become an adult, you are supposed to go watch the sunrise, not go clubbing.”
He recalled a line his childhood friend had once said. Prompted by that one comment, Haru and his three closest friends had hopped on an express bus to Jeongdongjin.
To save money, they skipped booking a room. Four big guys in long padded coats wandered the cold, dark beach that night, walking aimlessly for hours.
“…Yeah. The air that night by the ocean—it smelled just like this.”
The air was so briny it felt like he could taste salt just by flicking his tongue into it. As that distant memory came rushing back, a strange glimmer lit up Haru’s eyes.
From that moment, he started closely examining the seams where the walls met the floor and ceiling.
He rapped the walls, ceiling, and floor with his knuckles until they were swollen, then switched to tapping with his empty water bottle.
The sensation beneath his hand was subtly off—too inconsistent to be solid concrete.
Of all the places he tapped, one section of the living room wall stood out—it gave off a noticeably hollow echo.
He stuck his head into the corner and sniffed. The salty scent from before hit stronger there.
Driven by suspicion, Haru scoured the apartment for any cracks or crevices. It was only possible because Black—the man in charge—was currently away.
“This is the only room I have not been able to check properly.”
Still, aside from the hollow sound in the living room wall, there were no gaps large enough to peek through to the outside.
Left with no other choice, Haru found himself standing before a firmly locked door. There had to be a reason it was sealed shut. Opening it might bring consequences he could not afford.
His fingers, still haunted by the memory of Black’s grip around his throat, trembled slightly.
The man’s violence was different. It was nothing like what Kang Min had inflicted on him in the past, nor like the torment Hong Seong-jun subjected him to after he woke up here, his wrists swollen and bruised.
Both of them had struck him with emotion—rage, contempt, hatred.
But Black’s violence was… empty.
If someone were to ask whether it really mattered—violence is violence, after all—Haru could almost agree.
And yet, when Black had been choking him, the look in his eyes had been far more chilling than the fury burning in Kang Min’s or Hong Seong-jun’s.
It was like the indifference of a man crushing a bug underfoot without even realizing it.
Black gave off the terrifying impression that he could snap Haru’s neck at any moment, with no hesitation, no feeling, no thought.
Haru tightened his grip on the doorknob. Even if this ended up making things worse, he had chosen this path. He had to see it through without regret.
“Hnnngh…!”
With a grunt, he poured all his strength into the handle. Since the door was locked, he intended to break the knob right off.
His face turned bright red from exertion, but in the end, Haru slumped to the ground, still clutching the unyielding doorknob.
“Haaah… haah… Damn this pathetic stamina…”
If he had been in his original body, he could have broken a simple doorknob without breaking a sweat. But this body was weak—so weak that just one burst of effort had left him drenched and shaking.
The Spam he had eaten earlier seemed to dissolve in his stomach at lightning speed.
A pang of sorrow crept up, stinging his nose. Struggling to escape, unable to eat properly—his situation suddenly felt even more pitiful.
“Ugh… nghhh…!”
But he could not give up. Not now.
Determined, Haru clung to the doorknob and shook it with everything he had, until it felt like even the last traces of energy were being wrung out of him. At first, it felt solidly locked, but the more he shook it, the looser it became.
A faint glimmer of hope began to break through the suffocating dark.
Maybe he had focused too hard. He failed to notice the shadow creeping silently up behind him.
“What do you think you are doing?”
“Gyaah—!”
A rough, gravelly voice scraped against his ears, and Haru jolted like he had been electrocuted.
Shit.
A frigid chill—like the air had dropped several degrees—rushed across his skin. Still gripping the handle, Haru forced his stiff neck to turn.
And there he was.
Zero, his head tilted a chilling forty-five degrees to the side.
Haru’s heart lurched so hard it nearly leapt out of his throat.
“Y-You are back…”
He forced a groveling laugh and straightened up. His hands, flushed red from the struggle, were hastily hidden behind his back.
Zero’s face was blank. Expressionless. He glanced back and forth between Haru’s face and the now-damaged door handle.
Haru swallowed dryly. He wished the man would just explode—rage, yelling, anything.
But Zero’s face was like a mask—a lifeless, inhuman facade. No emotion leaked out. Just an empty stare that made Haru’s pupils tremble with fear.
He took a step back on trembling legs—only to collapse onto the floor as his strength gave out.
“Trying to escape?”
Zero walked over and crouched in front of him. His arms draped loosely over his knees, and his fingertips lightly tapped Haru’s leg.
Haru remembered the bulging veins that had run up Zero’s neck just before he lost consciousness yesterday. They had been swollen and engorged then—but now, they looked even worse.
Whatever Zero had done while he was out… it had made the veins grow thicker. They pulsed grotesquely now, writhing like live worms under his skin.
The lower half of Zero’s face remained obscured beneath black clothing and gloves, making it impossible to see the full extent of his condition. But Haru had no doubt—the veins bulging across his body must look just as grotesque.
And yet, all the man had done was speak.
That alone was enough to make Haru feel like a noose had been cinched tight around his neck.
His airway steadily constricted, breath turning to static in his lungs.
“Ghk… ngh…”
His face flushed red from the suffocating pressure, but Zero’s expression did not waver in the slightest.
Instead, he reached out a hand.
Haru saw it coming, but escape was already out of the question. His body was paralyzed under the crushing weight of terror—so stiff he could not even lift a finger.
“Gkkk…”
Once again, it repeated.
Zero’s hand closed around his neck, and just like before, he sucked in Haru’s Guiding energy with ravenous hunger, as if he were devouring something vital and forbidden.
But this time, it was worse.
Perhaps because he had already been drained to the brink yesterday, Haru’s body now contained even less Guiding energy than usual.
Yet Zero was absorbing it faster than ever, drawing it out like a vortex. Haru’s body began to short-circuit, unable to handle the violent overload.
“P-Please… help…”
Convinced he really might die, Haru gasped out a desperate plea. He could not even finish the sentence.
Just those two syllables made his eyes flutter violently, the whites quivering as if they might roll back in shock.
While Haru’s complexion grew visibly worse by the second, a different kind of expression finally surfaced on Zero’s face—pleasure.
It seeped in like a fine mist, slow and eerie. His glassy, unfocused eyes drifted across Haru’s dying face with chilling detachment.
Even in his fading consciousness, Haru felt his skin crawl. This man—this monster—could kill him, right here, right now, and would not even blink.
That terrifying possibility was no longer a fear. It had become fact, pressing heavy against Haru’s mind.
Tears had already gathered in the corners of his eyes. By the time he noticed, they were spilling down his cheeks. His face, once flushed red, had gone ashen and blue.
If I die here… I swear I’ll cling to him as a vengeful ghost.
It had to be this man’s influence. That was the only explanation for why Black’s people treated Guides like disposable tools. Even the S-rank Espers who had looked down on him had never pushed him this far.
Sure, Kang Min—the bastard from his memories—was cruel enough to rival this. But ever since Haru had possessed this body, not even he had ever pushed Haru to the brink of death like this.
Just as Haru felt his final breath unraveling, the pressure around his throat vanished.
“Gghk—! Cough, cough, cough!”
Harsh, dry coughs erupted from his chest. Unswallowed spit trailed from his lip in a sticky string.
His head swayed dangerously, as if it might collapse straight into the floor. His lungs, having gone so long without proper air, screamed with pain as they finally drew in ragged gulps.
“I barely started. You’re absurdly fragile.”
“Hh-hngh… cough, cough…”
Haru wanted to glare at him—wanted to curse him to hell—but he held it in. One wrong move and the assault could start all over again.
So instead, he clenched his fists so tightly his nails split the skin on his palms.
Thud.
“Drink this. I’ll be back.”
Zero tossed a recovery potion toward him like he was tossing scraps to a stray.
“And don’t waste your energy trying to open that door. What you’re looking for isn’t in there anyway.”
Haru did not answer. He kept his eyes on the bottle, motionless and silent, waiting for the man to disappear.
Only when he heard the faint click of the door closing behind him did Haru finally allow his trembling hands to move.
