“Uh, no? I don’t think Noona Gaeun was there at the time. Right, Eunho-hyung?”
“If I remember correctly, she was out looking for farmland with Sister Benedicta.”
“Oh, right.”
Kim Sibaek accepted the correction without much fuss. People forget what happened just yesterday—of course even someone like him could misremember something from years ago.
To shut down Lee Hangyeol’s nonstop chatter, Yang Eunho and the research chief brought out a cryogenic case holding the manastones. When they opened it, several manastones were revealed—still stained with monster blood and bits of flesh.
“Wait, are you seriously refining these with faith instead of magic?”
Normally, refining manastones required magic. But from what Hangyeol could see, there wasn’t even the slightest prep for drawing a magic circle. That crow that supposedly performed the amazing trick of drawing one with its foot? It was now just perched quietly atop Kim Sibaek’s head.
“Mmm. If we want to maximize the efficiency of the medicine, refining with faith is actually more effective than with magic. Besides, on Earth—refining with magic causes serious degradation.”
According to Kim Sibaek, magical refinement on Earth resulted in about 90% material loss. But with Divine Power, he could bring that down to around 50%.
The room collectively gasped. The research chief, flustered, even forgot to maintain a professional tone.
“That can’t be right! I mean—I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but—!”
“There’s a distinct difference in results when refining with faith. That said, the god I serve—Death and Beauty—doesn’t have much to do with manastone production, so the efficiency’s lower.”
The first gods to awaken the world were Heegu and Changje, and from them, all others descended. Since all gods share the same origin, they can exert influence even outside their primary domains. Lord Biendeoé, being a goddess of death, had at least partial authority over refining the manastones of fallen monsters.
[Death and Beauty is smugly boasting that she’s got a talent for exploiting all sorts of niche domains.]
“Ah…”
The research chief, who’d practically burst into flames moments ago, cooled down in an instant. Unlike her, who was clearly struggling to hide her “are we dealing with a cult?” expression, Yang Eunho looked… conflicted. The more he witnessed, the more it felt real—like this wasn’t some performance or religious gimmick.
Meanwhile, Lee Hangyeol, who’d already accepted the holy trinity of “Trusting Tae Woon = Trusting Kim Sibaek = Don’t think too hard”, had recovered quickly.
“Hyung, are we starting the refinement?”
“Yes. Let’s begin.”
The manastones they’d collected all came from venomous monsters. Normally, you’d need to draw and activate a magic circle first, but Kim Sibaek skipped all that. Instead, he extended both hands around the gathered stones, and light began to form between his fingers.
“……!”
The three of them had been watching with half-skepticism, half-resignation—ready to call it a scam at any moment. But suddenly, their eyes flew wide open.
The manastones, now enveloped in radiant light, began to levitate—and dissolve midair.
The research chief glanced frantically between the recording on her phone and the miracle unfolding before her eyes, mouth agape.
The light in Kim Sibaek’s palms grew steadily brighter, yet strangely, it wasn’t blinding. On the contrary, the more they stared, the more it soothed their eyes. It was… calming.
They couldn’t see exactly what was happening inside the light, but it was clear that something was changing. Ash-like black flakes started to fall from within.
The research chief, lips sealed in fear of disrupting the process, finally couldn’t hold back.
“What is that falling stuff?!”
“It’s the remnants of the monster.”
The blood and flesh clinging to the manastones had been purified. While the three swallowed nervously, the manastones fell from the light one by one with soft thuds.
“W-what the—?!”
The stones had lost all color, now a cloudy, dull gray—as if their very essence had been completely drained.
Refined or not, manastones normally retained their shape. So this defied everything they thought they knew. And while Yang Eunho was stunned, the ones who truly grasped the implications—Hangyeol and the research chief—were even more shaken.
Kim Sibaek gathered the glowing light still in his hands—now free of impurities—and transferred it into a glass vial he had prepared. The luminous mass seeped in like a thick liquid and slowly sank to the bottom.
“It’ll take a little time, but the refinement’s complete.”
The moment he spoke, the research chief scrambled to measure the manastones’ concentration—and gasped again when she saw the result: 0%.
Not a trace left. Everything usable had been extracted.
“So… you pulled out the essence at 50% efficiency and transferred all of it into that vial?”
“Yes. Oh, and I left this one for you to verify.”
Kim Sibaek handed her a single manastone—the only one that still retained its color. The measurement came back at exactly 50%.
This is… the power of faith?
Even the most skeptical one in the room—the research chief—felt her heart begin to flutter toward the “cult.”
“Hyung! The color’s changing! Wait—is it revealing something?!”
Lee Hangyeol let out a cry as he stared at the vial. The light within was gradually fading. Right before their eyes, it vanished completely.
What remained inside was a pitch-black liquid.
The initial awe from witnessing a groundbreaking refinement technique had faded. Only now could they truly see what was left behind.
“……”
It wasn’t just pitch-black—it was thick, sticky, and pulsing with a grotesque viscosity. The surface bubbled as if it were boiling, releasing small pops like toxic fumes trying to escape. It looked less like an antidote and more like something that had oozed straight out of the gates of hell. No matter how many times he blinked, it didn’t look like medicine. If anything, it screamed poison.
Yang Eunho cautiously asked
“What exactly does this reagent… do?”
“It’s poison.”
“……”
“You could say it works by fighting poison with poison.”
To put it another way, imagine trying to cure someone poisoned by pufferfish by extracting venom from snakes, frogs, and spiders—then distilling all of that into one new super-poison.
“So… you’re saying this poison has to be… ingested?”
“That’s right.”
“And the taste…?”
“Tastes exactly like what it is. Concentrated poison.”
“……”
Yang Eunho silently vowed to never, ever get poisoned by a monster again—no matter what.
Since the reagent (poison) had to be consumed immediately for maximum effectiveness, Kim Sibaek headed straight back to the penthouse. Naturally, Eunho and Lee Hangyeol followed—curious to see how Tae Woon would react.
“Do I just drink it?”
And then—unbelievably—Tae Woon took the vial without flinching and downed it in one gulp. No grimace. No hesitation. He might as well have been drinking water.
Kim Sibaek, who had come prepared with a whole bag of candies, chocolates, and caramels to help with the aftertaste, was the one left stunned. Most people either puked it back up or screamed that they’d rather die poisoned than drink it. It was notorious for being that extreme.
“You okay?”
“Mm.”
Tae Woon closed his eyes, quietly checking his condition. Then he cracked one eye open with a slow, sultry blink.
“Hyung…”
“Y-yeah? What is it? Say something.”
“My body feels… hot.”
“……”
Smack.
A crisp slap landed on his arm. As the sound echoed through the room, Yang Eunho and Lee Hangyeol both had the same thought: If he’s got the strength to flirt after drinking literal poison, what even is love?
After taking the reagent, Tae Woon crawled into bed, pulling the blanket over his head and declaring he needed rest. Because of that, no one saw his face—how pale it had turned, how he was struggling to catch his breath, looking even worse than before.
He absolutely could not let Kim Sibaek find out. That single-minded determination was the only thing keeping him from groaning aloud.
***
Na Jungwoo was burning with resolve.
Though he’d been cleared of charges—proven to have been manipulated like a puppet—the humiliation still stung. Deeply.
I’ll catch that bastard myself. No one else.
Worse yet, the truth had come out: he wasn’t even at the peak of A-rank, let alone close to S-rank as he’d believed. His lack of mana control was holding him back.
With his pride wounded and new determination in his heart, Jungwoo vowed not just to catch the real culprit, but to master his mana enough to break out of Awakener cuffs on his own. His eyes burned with renewed intensity. Even Pi Minhyung, after getting a good look at that deranged stare, gave in with a sigh:
“Fine. Take a break. Do whatever you want. Just don’t expect to get paid.”
Stepping away from the Strike Team’s field operations for the time being, Jungwoo spent every day prowling around HQ, hell-bent on tracking down the perpetrator.
The second I catch his scent… I’ll tear him apart.
With eyes full of murderous intent, Jungwoo scanned the streets like a predator.
And then—something caught his attention.
Across the road, a foreigner wearing sunglasses darted between two buildings, trying to disappear from sight.
