By Zephyria 
Once the auditory disturbances ceased, the tactile interference began. Yoo Jiha ignored the squelching sensation beneath his feet, as if stepping on rotting corpses, and the feeling of swarming insects rushing toward the soles of his feet, clinging only to the warmth of the left hand he held.
How much time had passed? Jeil Heon’s steady pace came to a halt, and the blanket covering Jiha’s head was pulled back. They had arrived.
Exhaling a long breath, Yoo Jiha looked up. A round sun was positioned exactly in a straight line above them. He had learned that unlike reality, the sun instantly transforms into the moon once night falls here.
It felt as though they had walked for ages, but when he looked back, the market seemed so close that he could reach it by stretching out his arm. He wondered if the fact that he found it fascinating—how the Aberrations that had hindered them so much were now ignoring the outside world—was proof that he was gradually adapting to the Management Bureau.
“H-help us!”
The four victims at the destination burst into tears, snot and tears streaming down their haggard faces. They were relatively lucky. Though they hadn’t a single cent in cash, they had managed to earn money through the Performance and escape safely.
“Wow. You earned money by surviving a Performance by Aberrations that’s worse than a freak show or a snuff film? How?”
“We’re… breaking dancers…”
“Oh. This is a new case. Please provide a detailed explanation once we return to the Management Bureau.”
While Kim Min-seop’s affability helped the victims calm down, the rest of the party prepared to escape. Jeil Heon handed Yoo Jiha an Ear Guard, the talisman used for escaping.
“You need to start learning these bit by bit. You know how to use it, right?”
“Yes! I can do it!”
Gulping nervously, Yoo Jiha pressed the Ear Guard against the boundary—the milky-white mist of the Aberrant Realm, which the Management Bureau called the Dividing Mist. With a light press, the talisman stuck firmly. He then pricked his thumb with a needle and drew a long vertical line of blood across the talisman, before performing a Vajra-mudra, crossing his fingers in front of it.
“I, Yoo Jiha, a national official of the Ye-bu Transcription Office, humbly request a Guna from the Bangsangsi. According to the covenant recorded in the ledger, please open the Seventh Gate.”
It was a hodgepodge of an incantation, mixing different eras and styles, but the effect was certain. The Ear Guard glowed brightly, and a Hongsal Gate appeared on the spot.
‘My professor, who specialized in talismans, would have loved to see this…’
It was a pity that disclosing such things to outsiders was forbidden.
Song Hilda led the victims through the completed exit first, followed by Kim Min-seop carrying the luggage and the Enforcement Division Agents. It was just as Yoo Jiha was about to step through the exit.
Ding.
A light plucking sound, like that of a gayageum, echoed, and a blue bead appeared in mid-air.
“Dangerous!”
Before the bead could fall toward the Hongsal Gate, Jeil Heon’s urgent shout pulled him away. Yoo Jiha was yanked back by his waist, and the bead dropped right where he had been standing. Simultaneously, a burst of blue flame erupted.
“Wh-what?! What is this?”
“Shh.”
He had almost been engulfed by those flames. Jeil Heon hugged him from behind, soothing him as he turned pale with delayed shock. Holding onto the forearm draped over his shoulder, Yoo Jiha calmed his trembling. He had never been taught that an exit could be attacked by an Aberration; what was happening?
The blue flame did not last long. It vanished like an illusion, but the exit vanished along with it, leaving no trace. The Hongsal Gate was gone.
“…”
Yoo Jiha clung tightly to Jeil Heon’s forearm as if it were a lifeline.
“Mister. W-what happened?”
Bending down, Jeil Heon picked something up from where the bead had fallen. It was a strand of black hair, resembling that of a beast.
“An Aberration intruded, right?”
Yoo Jiha asked, noticing Jeil Heon seemed to be contemplating how to explain it.
“I’m an employee of the Management Bureau now, too. I won’t run away just because I’m scared. Please tell me.”
“…Right. You’re an adult, not a four-year-old baby.”
With a sigh and a low mutter to himself, Jeil Heon wiped his face.
“If my guess is correct, it’s a True Slaughter Grade Aberration.”
“…”
In the Water Abnormality Worship Management Bureau, Aberrations are classified into six grades: Safe, Caution, Harmful, Disaster, Malevolent, and True Slaughter. Among them, a True Slaughter Grade is an Aberration estimated to have the power to destroy an entire nation. An Aberration that could kill a few ordinary people—people like him, who only had eyes to see—as easily as flipping a pancake.
As he bit his lower lip, his face drained of color, a low whisper reached his ear.
“Do you think it would have been better not to know?”
“…No. Thank you for telling me honestly.”
If he had been left alone in the Aberrant Realm, he would have panicked and lost his mind, but Jeil Heon was here with him. That fact alone allowed Yoo Jiha to keep his back straight and resist being consumed by terror, even if he was still shaking.
After looking down at Yoo Jiha with an unreadable expression for a moment, Jeil Heon roughly ruffled his hair.
“Don’t worry too much. If it’s the Aberration I think it is, it won’t attack us just to kill us.”
“It’s not a dangerous entity?”
“It is dangerous. But it’s a creature that finds no interest in killing a person or two. …It has lived for a very, very long time.”
With that, Jeil Heon changed the subject.
“Agent Song took the blanket, so let’s head back to the blanket shop first.”
Only one Ear Guard is distributed per exploration team. If the party realized they hadn’t escaped and came back to rescue them, they would have to wait until the market day five days later.
“Can you go back to the Five-Day Market? There’s plenty of time before the sun sets, so we can go once you’ve calmed down.”
“I-I’m fine. I’ll go right now!”
Yoo Jiha answered loudly on purpose to hide his trembling. With a faint smile, Jeil Heon took his hand. The way back was very short. In just a few steps, the two re-entered the Jeonmae Five-Day Market.
And then.
The moment Yoo Jiha’s foot stepped inside, a beast’s tongue appeared in the sky, where only the round sun had been floating without a single cloud. The tongue, massive enough to sweep across the sky, scooped up the sun—which he had felt looked like a hard candy—and crunched it down in one bite.
The sun vanished.
Night fell upon the Jeonmae Five-Day Market.
There was something the Sunbaes of Team 7 had strictly warned him about before entering the Jeonmae Five-Day Market.
〈No matter what mistake you make, we’ll cover for you, so there’s no need to panic. But if you end up staying in the Aberrant Realm, never go outside your lodging at night. Got it? Night outings are forbidden unless you are accompanied by at least one squad from the Enforcement Division. Otherwise, they won’t even find your body; they’ll barely find a few fragments of flesh.〉
〈Aw, Sunbae. I heard even one squad isn’t enough. Think about how many Aberrations swarm in at night.〉
〈That’s the minimum condition for accompanying someone. If you have the kind of luck where you win the lottery first prize ten times in a row, you might survive without being detected by the Aberrations.〉
〈If the Team leader’s skills are as real as the rumors say, I feel like they could survive by running away all night.〉
Night outings were so avoided that even with an Enforcement Division escort, they were considered dangerous. Yet, the only ones left in the Aberrant Realm were him and Jeil Heon. The situation was different from the Eight Phases Mental Hospital. No matter how capable Jeil Heon was, he couldn’t possibly face all the Aberrations in the entire realm while carrying the burden of Jiha.
The warning in the Procedure Manual, which suggested suicide over staying in the Five-Day Market at midnight, resurfaced, fueling his terror. He felt as if he were suffocating.
“W-what do we do? The lodging, no, where, that…”
“Jiha.”
“If I’m in the way, u-uh, Mister, I…”
“Yoo Jiha!”
Jeil Heon firmly grabbed both cheeks of Yoo Jiha, who was speaking incoherently with teeth chattering. Holding the trembling face with strong force, the man looked directly into his eyes. In the encroaching darkness, his left eye glowed.
“What did I tell you?”
It was strange. Even in such a chaotic situation, his heavy and stable voice was etched clearly in his mind. Yoo Jiha remembered his words—that he would become his tool.
〈Instead, Jiha. I will become your tool and protect you. I will annihilate your fear and execute death. You may treat me as whatever you wish beyond that. Use me as much as you like.〉
He couldn’t have been lying. He wouldn’t put him in danger. Slowly, a clear image formed in eyes that had struggled to focus.
“That you would protect me so that I wouldn’t be afraid…”
“Yes.”
Jeil Heon hugged the nape of Yoo Jiha’s neck, pulling him close with strength against his shoulder, then grabbed his wrist and bolted.