Chapter 34 :

<34>

The shocking night, stained with a gunfight that resembled urban warfare, had passed. What was happening to the security of Seoul? The incident that provoked such questions and outrage among the public was gradually sinking deeper into a labyrinth of mystery.

The bodies discovered at the scene were completely burned in a fire at the jurisdictional hospital, and the bullets recovered were all identified as Poongsan 5.56mm rifle rounds—the standard equipment of the Republic of Korea. The monster’s corpse was found in the alley where the gunshots had echoed, but it had decayed as if decades had passed in an instant, leaving only bones behind. Those bones, too, disappeared in the hospital fire.

No matter how severe a blaze might be, bones burning away without a trace was not something that could happen in a normal fire.

However, there were no credible witnesses, and no manpower was allocated from above. After the media frenzy died down, even the police gradually reduced their investigative personnel. As if on cue, a political scandal erupted, causing media attention to fade with unusual speed. As a result, an odd situation arose in which a juvenile officer from Yeongdeungpo Station and Detective Sim Gu-jin, a veteran with fifteen years of experience, became responsible for investigating the case.

“Damn it! Do you think I’m blind? And now you’re telling me they’re Poongsan rounds… Does that even make sense?”

Detective Sim raised his voice while gripping the phone, but the person on the other end ignored him completely and simply hung up. It had been a call to the forensic lab, which was overwhelmed with work despite its limited staff. Highly educated and holding high ranks, and busy beyond measure, it was only natural that they looked down on frontline detectives. But for the one being dismissed, it was impossible to accept.

“In the capital of the Republic of Korea, Seoul, there’s a full-blown gunfight and rockets flying around, and the police are just sucking their thumbs! How the hell did I get shoved into this mess, huh?”

It was somewhat strange that he drifted into self-pity mid-rant, but Detective Sim was, in his own way, a man with a sense of duty. Even when he worked in juvenile affairs, he had sent all the troublemaking kids to reform school out of that very ‘sense of duty’. As a result, after receiving petitions from parents and principals, he had been pushed around from post to post until he ended up saddled with this thankless assignment.

“Um… Detective Sim. Coffee.”

A conscript policeman, somehow managing to mess up his short hair stylishly, approached with a yawn, holding a paper cup over a stack of files. Normally, riot police were tasked with suppressing demonstrations, but protests had become rare these days. With the right assignment, some ended up delivering coffee and playing games at the computer instead.

“Ah, you rotten bastard! What’s this? I told you to bring it black!”

Detective Sim snapped at him while drinking the coffee. It was vending machine coffee anyway—what difference did it make whether it was black or milky? But the conscript offered a half-hearted apology. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes—exaggeration aside, nearly an inch thick—he must have been chatting all night during his duty shift.

“Damn it! There should’ve been rifling marks left on the barrel, and you’re telling me you don’t know? Are we investigating this or not?”

Detective Sim sighed as he reviewed the files. Looking out the window, despite the horrific murder that had occurred, the world was already bustling with Christmas preparations. Autumn was nearly gone, and winter stood at the doorstep—enough that vendors selling roasted sweet potatoes were pushing their carts around.

“Got guts, don’t you.”

Anyone brazen enough to pull a cart past the police station clearly didn’t fear crackdowns. He rubbed his face and stood up. The section chief glanced at him, but Sim was, in Go terms, a discarded stone. Whatever he did no longer mattered.

“Then I’ll be back.”

“Yeah, sure.”

The section chief answered absentmindedly, tapping ash into the tray.

* * *

“Man, what a waste. If we’d drained all that vampire blood and sold it, we could’ve made a real fortune.”

The arms broker and courier who introduced himself as “Kenneth Yang” exclaimed exaggeratedly while looking at Sylvester. While Se-gun, Sylvester, and Song Deok-yeon waited outside Seoul in the safe house he had provided for the police investigation to cool down, they had to endure his grating chatter.

Yet he had his reasons for talking so much. A hunter of True Vampires—practically a legend among vampire hunters—stood right before his eyes. And astonishingly young at that. It was only natural for an arms dealer to find that strange. But though he found it odd, he did not doubt it.

To regard Sylvester as an ordinary human in this world was impossible from his appearance alone. With clean silver hair, cold eyes, and a sculpted, smooth body that possessed muscle without ever seeming bulky, Sylvester carried a charisma so intense it made even vampires tremble with fear of death. He was the only human to have slain a True Vampire—the True Vampire hunter, Father Sylvester.

“From what you’re saying, it sounds like you knew these firearms were taken from vampires… Did you hand guns over to them?”

The legendary figure, Sylvester, frowned menacingly at the arms dealer as he asked. The dealer feigned surprise, then grinned.

“As expected… you’re sharp. I was going to reveal that shortly…”

Shing!

But before he could finish, Sylvester’s claymore leapt from its sheath. Before the man could even react, the blade lightly brushed past his Adam’s apple. The wound at first appeared pale, then began to bead with drops of blood.

Out of idle curiosity, Se-gun had once confirmed that Sylvester’s claymore could split a hair in two with the faintest puff of breath. If Sylvester had truly intended to sever the man’s head, there would have been nothing left of his neck. It was a sword capable of carving through a car hood wrapped in black metal and fiber.

“Ah, that hurts.”

Far too ordinary a remark for someone whose throat had just been nicked. But this was a man bold enough to trade weapons with vampires. Of course, Sylvester did not consider mere boldness worthy of respect.

“Don’t ever pull that kind of stunt again! If a vampire’s holding a gun next time, I’ll treat you like one too. I don’t sell vampire blood anyway. Killing a human or killing a vampire—it’s all the same to me.”

“Hahaha! Yes, I’ll be careful. When I dealt with them, they aimed guns at my back too. Caused me quite a bit of trouble.”

“……”

Instead of answering, Sylvester swung the claymore again. Kenneth’s bangs were cleanly sliced off and fell to the floor.

Clack!

The heavy sound of the blade returning to its sheath echoed. A suffocating silence pressed down on Kenneth and Se-gun.

“What’s so funny? Don’t laugh in front of me again. It makes me want to kill you.”

“……”

At this point, even Kenneth—who prided himself on his hearty demeanor, couldn’t bring himself to speak. Se-gun, watching the grim scene, stifled a yawn and turned on the TV.

The screen lit up the dark safe house. A music program was playing.

“Ah, is it already Sunday?”

Se-gun muttered as he disassembled the guns. Instead of collecting vampire blood, Sylvester had taken their weapons—and handed them all over to Se-gun. Now Se-gun no longer had to rely solely on two feeble Tokarevs.

“What, a music show? Huh. Seems like the world’s already forgotten about this.”

Song Deok-yeon, entering through the door, glanced at the TV and grumbled. He took food out of the bag in his hand and tossed it onto the table. Se-gun accepted a bottle of mineral water and turned his eyes back to the screen.

At first it had been called a night of shock, chaos everywhere—but now, somehow, it was barely mentioned on air. People might forget quickly, but who would’ve thought it would vanish from broadcasts this fast?

“Is it the vampires’ power after all?”

Se-gun muttered weakly and sighed. The safe house was a fully bulletproofed two-story building along a national road in Gangwon Province, surrounded by nothing but fields. That night, after buying heaps of fish to block the interior and breaking through a checkpoint in a refrigerated truck, they had arrived here, signed a two-week contract, and spent a week inside.

If there was any consolation, it was that the Republic of Korea did not have an abundance of police officers. Even if all personnel were mobilized, a surveillance net could only be maintained for about three days at most—and even that would gradually fizzle out.

It was worrisome that Song Deok-yeon’s face had been exposed to residents in the neighborhood, but in the dead of night, awakened by pre-dawn noise, it would not be easy for people to remember someone so far away. Those who met him at the PC café with Se-gun might know more, but his image could not be found on public broadcasts. Thus, those called in for TV interviews vaguely assumed Song Deok-yeon was some kind of special forces operative.

To say special forces had been deployed to kill a monster sounded absurd enough that no one would believe it—but at the same time, it was strangely persuasive to people. Meanwhile, public interest would steadily fade.

The families of those murdered by the monster—the Corrupted—had not forgotten the incident. They had formed a truth investigation committee and occasionally held protests in front of the police station. But that too would soon be forgotten.

“Still, they fired an RPG-7 in the city and tossed grenades into the river—doesn’t it make no sense that no one saw it?”

Se-gun tilted his head as he disassembled various standard-issue rifles. Perhaps he was genuinely pleased to now possess superior firepower against vampires; despite the unfavorable situation, a tune slipped from his lips. Watching him, Kenneth shrugged and spoke.

“The Tetra Anax Clan has been in Korea for a year now. Isn’t it about time their influence started taking effect? Rookie hunter?”

“Well. No matter how powerful vampires are, can they really shut people’s eyes and mouths that easily?”

“Of course. Are human eyes and mouths really their own anymore? If you control newspapers and broadcasting, even humans can easily manipulate people. And for the children of Tetra Anax, who possess Trans Emphasis, it’s an easy task.”

Se-gun set the firearms aside and let out a sigh. It was hard to imagine prominent figures in the Republic of Korea falling into the hands of vampires. Creatures that couldn’t even roam in broad daylight controlling people—it wasn’t easy to accept. Yet when he considered the arcane power they possessed, it wasn’t entirely impossible either. That was the problem.

“Then what happens?”

“Nothing changes. How much difference do you think it makes to the ordinary citizens who serve them when the heads of society change? The ruled class is simply ruled. If anything changes, it’s only that their hypnosis weakens people’s belief in vampires and monsters. They’ll rationally deny their existence like conspiracy theories or alien stories.”

“Then what about those who believe in vampires?”

“They become fanatics, of course. Don’t you know that having believers and non-believers mixed together only makes it less credible?”

Kenneth smacked his lips and chewed his bubble gum.

“Want one? Ah, what about you, True Vampire Hunter?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“……”

Kenneth exaggeratedly shrugged and blew a bubble.

“Then I’ll take my leave. When the contract ends, I’ll return. Until then, feel free to use the facilities here as you wish.”

With that, Kenneth stepped outside. When the large cruiser that had been parked in the yard drove off, Se-gun let out a sigh of relief. There was something unsettling about dealing with Kenneth. A man who would sell weapons even to vampires if it meant profit—such a person wasn’t someone you could truly trust.

“He values his credit as much as he moves for money. Though who knows what amount would make that collapse.”

Muttering as he looked out the window, Sylvester sat down at the table. On the TV, a giant Christmas tree in front of City Hall filled the screen.

“Damn. This is no different from prison.”

Lamenting his days stuck inside the house, Se-gun went into his room.

* * *

Detective Sim sighed as he examined the vehicle abandoned at the scene. Even without the help of the forensic team, the bulletproof vests worn by the bodies and the belongings left behind made it clear there had been an enormous exchange of fire. According to testimony, even heavy weapons had been used. Bomb fragments recovered from the water suggested the use of composition-type fragmentation grenades, proving that forces armed with genuine military-grade weaponry had clashed.

“These damn lunatics! But why is the most important thing missing? Where are the ones who pulled this off?!”

The vehicle belonged to a certain production company, but there was no way to trace its involvement. They claimed it had been stolen from a parking lot that very day. Digging further would likely yield nothing. It wasn’t plausible that an entertainment production company had hired a mercenary group, so suspicion went nowhere. The vehicle was stolen, the guns were unregistered, the ammunition had been swapped, and no bodies remained. The case was completely shrouded in fog.

An urban battle had been fought with weapons unheard of in the Republic of Korea, yet there wasn’t even a lead to follow. It strongly felt as though someone had orchestrated it and deliberately covered it up.

“Damn it…”

Detective Sim stepped out onto the street, soothing his frustration with a cigarette.

“Ah, nothing beats the old faithful.”

He took a deep drag and slowly exhaled, a satisfied expression on his face. Normally, police officers didn’t move alone, but as December began, manpower had been reassigned under the pretext of strengthening crime prevention. Little personnel were allocated to investigations that were, in effect, already spilled water.

“Ah, damn it. This is bullshit.”

Flicking away the cigarette filter, Detective Sim headed to the hospital. A sudden fire had broken out in the hospital morgue when no one was around, completely incinerating the bodies—even burning away the bones. It resembled so-called spontaneous human combustion, a phenomenon whose authenticity was itself questionable. That such an event had occurred collectively was impossible to comprehend.

Come to think of it, it was strange. Spontaneous human combustion was something people had heard about through photos or rumors, yet few truly believed in it. Even those who did only accepted it half-heartedly—“something like that might happen”. Whenever such cases came to light, all the evidence was burned away and nothing remained.

Shaking off an ominous feeling, Detective Sim moved on.