INV 95

— The Reaper Murder Case.

Needless to say, it is a fresh anecdote that makes no sense.

What exactly is the underworld?

When a field-duty civil servant takes over a deceased person listed on the register and brings them in, they go through a trial in a judicial institution. Their additional crimes are judged, and their good deeds are praised before they are sent to the next stage.

Whether that leads to the next life or the next hell.

It depends entirely on the trajectory that person lived.

In other words, the underworld is the very place that divides life and death. A space that guides those who must live again into reincarnation and punishes those who must be penalized.

That is what the underworld is.

And the civil servants who guard those rules of life and death are the Reapers.

Such individuals were murdered en masse.

“How fucking embarrassing. Dammit.”

In the beginning, they even wasted time thinking it was the work of a monster. They couldn’t even conduct a proper investigation.

Fools fell for traps and stood by as further sacrifices followed.

That was the sin of the higher-ups.

Of course, it wasn’t completely incomprehensible. Even if the higher-ups were lazy and complacent, one could guess why they chose a monster as the culprit.

That is because the world has become like this.

We are in an era where the efficiency of the “Register” has dropped because of Jae Angshin. Life is no longer taken exactly as written in the register. People die all too easily. This is a world where pessimism has turned into reality. Even the most eminent high priest finds it difficult to gauge a person’s remaining lifespan. The world has become that way. This is because anyone can die when a disaster beyond standard measurement sweeps through.

Things like a lifespan determined by fate become meaningless.

An era that has truly become a gap filled with chaos.

Is that why a ridiculous paradox, such as a Reaper who kills Reapers, was finally created?

“Hey, Intern. Speak up.”

All the while running toward Yu Jimin’s team while putting on his jacket.

Gwak Deukcheon’s eyes glowed darkly. Green eyes. A fierce gaze.

“Thirty-three people. How did they die?”

“They were all dismembered.”

“How did that punk Geom Biyeon realize the ‘culprit’ was a Reaper?”

“According to the handover report, it was the sword marks.”

Those in the underworld are not idiots. Although they are hired only if they have spiritual talent, they do not try to solve everything with spiritual power alone.

In the underworld, or perhaps in a courtroom, it might be different.

But in a general dimension where physical laws actually apply, physical force is necessary.

In that sense, Samra’s passion for education was outstanding.

“He said they found traces of a technique introduced in the final chapter of the Infantry Sword section of the <Special Manual for Reapers>.”

“Do you remember which chapter it is?”

“Sword.”

“Right.”

The hwandudaedo rattled at Kwon Yihyeon’s waist. It was likely because he was running.

The team members were following while looking at Gwak Deukcheon’s back.

Gwak Deukcheon is Samra’s famous mad dog. Because of that, people who encounter him on the street jeer at him yet fear him. But they couldn’t do that right now.

Right now, they looked at him with nothing but pure terror.

‘If this man had just refined his temperament a little, wouldn’t he have become Great King Yama’s right-hand man long ago?’

Kwon Yihyeon was lost in such thoughts anew. Kwon Yihyeon now knew that his “eyes” were unusually good. That was why he could tell.

Just as he could mimic the spiritual power of others he contacted.

The spiritual talent Gwak Deukcheon possessed had a terrifying quality to it.

‘Though it’s not as strange as mine.’

Rather, that makes it more effective. To pioneer an unknown land where no one has gone before, like Kwon Yihyeon, one must struggle alone. Failure follows as a matter of course.

But Gwak Deukcheon is different.

He follows the most honorable and most magnificent path. And as for who stands ahead of Gwak Deukcheon on that path.

Well.

At the very least, wouldn’t it be someone like Great King Yama?

‘So why on earth are you insisting on doing field work…’

Well.

It’s not that he doesn’t know the reason.

Because Kwon Yihyeon saw it.

Because that person, Chacha—whom it is painful even to recall now—forcibly revealed Gwak Deukcheon’s past.

Just like popping the head off an electronic device to extract the data inside.

He had memories of being shown everything.

So Kwon Yihyeon knows.

That Gwak Deukcheon can never turn back.

‘Still, there are things I don’t know. For example, how you, who wanted to die quietly without ever defying the natural order no matter what, ended up burying your bones in the underworld.’

However, the moment came to cut off his idle thoughts. After all, it is only natural to focus right before surrounding another department and entering.

“Um, but shouldn’t we have pried more before entering?”

“They said they wouldn’t talk, so how am I supposed to open that mouth?”

Kwon Yihyeon asked one last question as a final check, and Gwak Deukcheon replied as if he were appalled.

Kwon Yihyeon mimicked a lukewarm smile.

“It’s not that I asked because I wanted to actively stop you, but I was just leaving evidence to properly shift the responsibility to my superior…”

“This punk is unnecessarily honest.”

“Well, that’s because we’re already surrounding them, aren’t we? It’s not like they’re going to say ‘Goodbye~’ if we back off now saying it was a misunderstanding.”

“You know it well. Then what’s the problem?”

“If the other party won’t talk, I thought we could just interrogate them. Not that I’m saying I want that…”

“In terms of efficiency? Eh. No way. A smart person like me doesn’t need that crap. Frankly speaking, what if I forcibly extract a testimony through exquisite torture? How would you prove the credibility of that testimony? What you need to know the truth isn’t torture, kid. It’s the existence of a great senior like me…”

“…”

They shared such a leisurely conversation while occupying the office of a department by force.

The force mentioned here was not a simple concept of a perimeter. It wasn’t about blocking the door or anything like that.

It was literally a domain of a barrier.

Secret arts. Sorcery.

Barrier arts. Word-spirit arts.

All sorts of mysteries were descending upon the office of office workers who had been working normally. Naturally, the people trapped inside screamed and sent out requests for rescue. However, Gwak Deukcheon had been temporarily elevated to a special position within Samra to solve the Reaper murder case.

“Gwak Deukcheon. What is the meaning of this?”

“Look at this. You idiot.”

Gwak Deukcheon thrust the identification plaque of his special position at the task force that had arrived to suppress the commotion after receiving the report. The commander, who was about to scoff thinking it was an ordinary token, jumped up in place with an expression that looked like his eyeballs might pop out.

“H-How did this…! How could a guy like you have this position?!”

If it is a token that is not an ordinary one, it can only be “that.”

Gwak Deukcheon curled one corner of his mouth and spoke crookedly.

“The Royal Secret Inspector has arrived.”

⋆˙⟡

“Anyway, that guy Gwak Deukcheon is just too soft.”

“I totally agree.”

Research Director Ma Sukbun grumbled as he entered the hospital room. A man with black hair followed behind him.

Yu Jimin was startled and stepped back. However, he was huddled on the hospital bed, and there were not many places to run.

With quick judgment, he broke the window and jumped out, but what appeared at the end was not the outside of the hospital or death.

Such peace is not granted.

What appeared was — .

“Hell?”

As a Reaper, but as an office worker.

The civil servant, who had never once witnessed the underworld, began to scream.

Ma Sukbun clicked his tongue while watching that sight.

“Kids in our day weren’t like that. These youngsters have no grit, I tell you.”

“Well, thanks to that, we’ve reduced useless time-wasting.”

“True, thanks to that, we won’t have to pick up a blade.”

Ma Sukbun clicked his tongue and watched the suffering Yu Jimin. Torture does not only consist of personally piercing under the fingernails with a needle. Surprisingly, torture can be accomplished just by “watching.”

Countless deaths, and the records of sinners being eternally tortured in hell.

Such a grand epic.

“Aaaaaagh — !”

To those raised in a greenhouse, just watching it could be a terror that destroys the mind.

“Hmph. I can’t empathize with this at all.”

“Well, that’s because you’re the Director.”

Ma Sukbun is the Research Director. If so, what does the research center study?

Among the many, many fields of research, could there really be no part that develops appropriate punishments for sinners?

“The world is advancing. Old-fashioned punishments cannot fully pay for sins… We must wipe away the additional crimes. Only then can we take the next step. Isn’t that right, Biyeon?”

Ma Sukbun looked at the black-haired man with cold eyes.

Geom Biyeon smiled brightly.

“I have no interest in the next step. I’d love for criminals and the like to just all die, but that’s too much of a luxury. I am simply grateful to the Director for always upgrading the punishments.”

“Oh boy. If Gwak Deukcheon heard that, he’d be livid.”

“Please keep it a secret if you can.”

“I will. As I always have.”

Because that bastard doesn’t need to be covered in all the darkness.

While saying those words, Ma Sukbun pulled out Yu Jimin, who was on the verge of breaking.

It was time to dig for information.