INV 89

Patience is wearing thin.

As Kwon Yihyeon tapped his booted foot a couple of times on the spot, the sound of dry fallen leaves crushing echoed beneath him.

It is a perfect day for a forest fire. Kwon Yihyeon knows it, and the enemy knows it. The South Korean government knows it, and the Afterlife knows it as well.

However, for the past three years, South Korea’s total strength has been poured not into fire watches, but into suppressing yōkai.

It is only natural. Since the world has been completely turned upside down.

By none other than Jae Angshin.

“A mere human…”

Modern times are no longer isolated from the occult.

Deep in the mountains where dry leaves are piled high.

The reason why far too many muzzles are mobilized to target just one person is also in line with the above.

If the enemy’s identity had been an “ordinary person,” a single handgun would have sufficed.

However, the enemy before his eyes is a different entity.

The truth can be recognized just by looking at the fire swirling in all directions like a living organism.

Fire.

Yes, fire.

An “ordinary person” can never handle fire in such a way.

Not unless they belong to the Afterlife.

“Step aside immediately! Otherwise…!”

However, the enemy before his eyes does not belong to the Afterlife. That is why Kwon Yihyeon came here.

In Kwon Yihyeon’s field of vision, the yōkai—ranting and raving that he would commit arson in the dry mountains if the siege was not lifted—tightly filled the space.

He has been waiting for a long time as requested, but there is no change in the situation.

In truth, he didn’t expect much.

Is there any reason a yōkai would listen when soldiers hold megaphones and advise surrender?

“Ha! You must take me for an idiot? Do you think I don’t know you’re going to try to kill me anyway!”

He is a yōkai who has already harmed humans. Forty-two people have died. Livers were torn out, hearts were sliced, and they died after being toyed with.

The limit of what can be undone has been crossed.

If he is caught like this, it is off to the Avici Hell.

Thus, as a yōkai, he has no choice but to attempt an escape. Even if he acts arrogantly as if he has nothing to fear in the universe, he cannot fail to know that the laws of the Underworld are solemn.

There is no forgiveness in the Underworld, only the law. Once the punishment is over, one will naturally reincarnate, but could that be called forgiveness? It is the judgment of Yama that forgiveness can only be granted by the victim. There is no forgiveness in the Underworld.

If that is the case, it should be the turn of the Grim Reaper Kwon Yihyeon to arrest the sinner to pay the price for his crimes.

Nevertheless, the reason he can only stand by and watch is…

“Do not intervene rashly.”

The words he heard just moments ago dig into his ears, where a ringing sound persists, like a hallucination.

Without needing to add this or that, the cause is simple.

It is because he is Kwon Yihyeon.

Even after the bond that once shackled his soul has vanished, it remains a yoke, constantly gnawing away at the rest of his life. It is no different from being branded. Kwon Yihyeon hunts yōkai, but humans do not accept Kwon Yihyeon. Yōkai loathe Kwon Yihyeon, and it is no different for humans.

Because he was the bride of Jae Angshin.

If anything, the Underworld understands to some extent. That Kwon Yihyeon does not have the capacity to control Jae Angshin.

That he was merely a pitiful sentient being toyed with inside the palm of Jae Angshin’s hand.

Among the Reapers of the Afterlife, people have emerged here and there who understand him.

However, on that day when Jae Angshin tore the Celestial Realm to pieces.

The day Kwon Yihyeon was abandoned.

It was different for civilians who realized, as if struck by lightning, that all sorts of superstitions they had previously thought were occult were actually the foundation stones that constitute the universe.

He understands the shock of realizing that the wandering ghosts of the world and the yōkai that devour humans are not delusions but the truth. It must feel like the world has flipped over. However, Kwon Yihyeon is a person and, in a way, can be called a victim.

Yet some gazes fall on him as if Kwon Yihyeon were some kind of mastermind…

‘No, forget it. Stop thinking.’

At any rate, it is universally troublesome for Mount Gyeryong to blaze up and leave nothing but ashes behind.

That is a fact known by Kwon Yihyeon, the enemy, the government, and the Afterlife.

Therefore, Kwon Yihyeon can simply accept the complaints about not intervening and then step in at the moment the military cannot handle the yōkai. He won’t receive a word of thanks, and if the matter spreads, he might get disciplined by his superiors, but it is something he has done many times. It is not so difficult now. Getting his feelings hurt is nothing. He can endure it.

“Urgh…! Maintain the line!”

Before long, there was a reaction. The yōkai, who had been attempting threats by sending fireballs in every direction, realized the siege was not going to break and grit his teeth, beginning to swell the flames.

Contrary to the delusions of some immortals who treat humanity like blockheads or primitive beings, even for a civilian who cannot handle celestial energy, the common sense that one must call 119 upon seeing an arsonist is firmly embedded in their heads.

Several fire trucks had already been positioned among the soldiers guarding against the yōkai.

‘Whether that works is a separate issue, though.’

Unfortunately, a sorcerous fire lit by demonic power cannot be suppressed by conventional means.

Of course, holy water can be effective depending on the concentration.

But would the proud South Korean government have filled the fire trucks to the brim with holy water?

Kwon Yihyeon was skeptical. Nonetheless, the firefighters gripped the hoses with determined expressions. Though they saw no great effect, perhaps because the concentration of holy water was weak, they are heroes who give their lives to suppress the demon of fire.

In their faces, turned red from the heat, a certain resolve not to retreat from here could be glimpsed.

In contrast, as the military leadership recoiled in horror at the flying sparks… though it wasn’t an expression to make in such a situation, Kwon Yihyeon found it somewhat funny.

And there was no reason to hold back his laughter.

“May I intervene now?”

“…”

Laughing softly, Kwon Yihyeon requested permission. Of course, there is no obligation for a Grim Reaper to seek permission before entering a scene. Government departments of each country and the Underworld have formed a type of agreement to join forces in dealing with spiritual incidents and accidents. To be more precise, because the position of Grim Reaper has been made into a sort of pan-national investigator, they can take priority over the local chain of command depending on the judgment of the scene.

In other words, Kwon Yihyeon requested permission just to grate on the commander’s nerves.

‘You told me to wait, and it is a great shame that I could not see the military demonstrate its skills.’

If it were up to him, he’d want to add those words to flip the man’s insides, but the current situation was more urgent. The commander, who was thoroughly provoked, turned beet-red and was about to let out some kind of roar, but it means Kwon Yihyeon was much faster.

Slice!

The sound of something being cut.

Simultaneously, the blazing fireballs began to go out one by one with a psss sound.

Just as everyone was wondering what happened.

Only then did the yōkai’s body, cut in half, collapse.

The right side separately, the left side separately.

“…!”

Belatedly, astonishment filled the people’s eyes, but the three years given to Kwon Yihyeon were too much to be swayed by joy or sorrow over such things. To show those who ignored him what’s what and be gleeful, one must have trust in society, but Kwon Yihyeon does not have that.

Kwon Yihyeon continues his words dryly.

“Do not approach the corpse. If you contact the Afterlife, they will send a disposal team.”

Since there is no obligation to seek permission anyway, it is more helpful for a speedy process to interpret silence as an affirmation and act at his own discretion rather than seeking understanding.

This is because there aren’t many civilians who would readily cooperate with Kwon Yihyeon, unlike other Grim Reapers.

In truth, more than anything else, it was because he could see with his own eyes the yōkai condensing heat as if to cause a paroxysmal explosion that he stopped waiting and drew his sword on his own whim; but explaining such things one by one is a type of bravado one can only have when young. One can resolve misunderstandings through conversation back in the younger days when one has plenty of physical and mental energy… now, he doesn’t have the strength for that.

The faces that looked like they’d seen a ghost just because he sliced a single yōkai were funny, but he was tired.

He just wanted to go and rest.

“This has been Kwon Yihyeon, a Grim Reaper belonging to the Afterlife. If you have any complaints, give them this name.”

No reply came, but Kwon Yihyeon turned around familiarly. If you don’t expect anything, your heart is at ease. There are only two things in the world he expects. One is a deep sleep after finishing work, and the other is…

Vrrr.

Kwon Yihyeon reacted quickly to the sound.

It is the Afterlife’s summoning ring. What happened where this time?

“…What is it?”

“Reaper Kwon, an emergency dispatch request has come in.”

When a specific hand seal is formed, the earring placed in one ear transmits the communication from the Afterlife. Kwon Yihyeon, who heard the entire summary of the incident in a mechanical voice, closed his eyes for a moment.

“Are you available for dispatch?”

He was exhausted. If possible, he wanted to close his eyes right now and never open them again.

However, he can sleep when he’s dead.

“Yes, I will head out.”

He had to fulfill his duty. He had to.

Therefore, something like overwork was not a very significant matter.

After working for about 78 consecutive hours after that, Kwon Yihyeon was dragged away by the scruff of his neck by Gwak Deukcheon.

Lately, that kind of thing has become daily life.

⋆˙⟡

“Hey, are you hoping to die from overwork?”

Receiving hostility is a tiring thing. It is even more so if it comes from his only decent superior.

“Team Leader Gwak.”

“Yeah. If you’ve got a death wish, say it clearly. I’ll send you off myself. Your superior holds a pretty high position in the Afterlife, you know.”

Gwak Deukcheon bared his teeth fiercely.