“Ugh... this...”
Choi Mina clutched her nose and mouth, her face paling. Though the degree varied, everyone showed a similar reaction.
The stench of rotting food, of decaying flesh—no, the nauseating smell of death emanating from corpses.
“D-damn...”
“Ah...”
Sighs and dismay erupted around us. Groans escaped as we fought back retching.
We already guessed what had happened here.
The temporary structures for workers’ quarters and offices.
The massive heavy machinery brought in for the build.
The piles of construction materials stacked like mountains.
And the laborers and managers who’d gathered for this project.
The troubleshooters and security experts assembled to protect them.
All of it mangled, crushed, splintered, and torn apart as if chewed up by a savage beast and spat out across the area.
Only then did the bodies come into view.
Blood.
Chunks of meat.
The buzzing of flies.
The silent writhing of maggots.
The deep pits dug to lay foundations had become swamps of coagulated blood and flesh.
Even Gwak Daeyong, usually boisterous, shrank back in horror—and more than anything, the foul smell that made breathing difficult—spoke in a strained voice.
“Are they all... all dead? What happened to the team that arrived yesterday?”
Answering Gwak Daeyong’s question was Ahn Hyeonggu, approaching with the kriririk of his endoscope.
“Huh— I confirmed their truck over there. The serial numbers match—and judging by the bodies, it looks like they were attacked last night.”
Among the twisted metal of the armored trucks lay the vehicle of the team that departed yesterday.
We were the second wave.
Yeonam Construction ran two transports: one yesterday, one today.
“And Director Mun? I heard Director Mun Gyeongnam came here yesterday? Is he dead too?”
“Hmm— I can’t say for certain... but it’s hard to imagine he survived in a scene like this.”
They hadn’t split one team into two.
The team that arrived yesterday was entirely separate from mine and Gwak Daeyong’s.
Apparently Director Mun Gyeongnam insisted on inspecting this perilous Seoraksan site.
‘Why did that idiot interfere?’
Director Mun Gyeongnam.
It seemed trivial, but that change—one that shouldn’t have happened—might be why this catastrophe occurred.
And...
If I’d been able to move yesterday, I would have gone with him.
And if I had—
“Then if we’d... departed yesterday...”
Gwak Daeyong muttered, perhaps thinking the same as me.
Had we left with the first team, we’d have faced that supernatural disaster ourselves.
Is it fortunate we weren’t there to become mangled corpses on the ground?
Could more people have prevented it?
“Damn, how could so many people be taken out without any contact?”
“Captain, something’s wrong.”
Yeom Cheolmin, having surveyed the ruined temporary structures, cut in.
“We contacted this site when we departed, remember?”
“What? Ah, right. We did. Come to think of it... we got a reply then, didn’t we?”
“Exactly. And that was just six hours ago. If this happened last night, then the bastard who replied to my message is...”
Yeom Cheolmin’s expression turned uneasy as he trailed off.
“Damn, I didn’t accidentally communicate with the dead, did I?”
“Hmm... And headquarters?”
“They said to assess the situation on site.”
“Assess the situation? They just want us to stay here?”
Gwak Daeyong loosened his tie in disbelief.
But Yeom Cheolmin wasn’t finished, raising a hand.
“They’re more concerned about whether Director Mun survived.”
“Ha— honestly, has everyone lost their minds?”
“Heh, it’s important, isn’t it?”
Ahn Hyeonggu let out a rueful laugh.
For reference, Director Mun Gyeongnam ranks around third in line to inherit the Yeonam Construction conglomerate’s leadership. If you trace the succession, Moon Seunghee’s name comes up, but she’s too far down to matter.
In any case, Mun Gyeongnam’s fate isn’t only of interest to Yeonam—everyone in the Cthulhu World financial sector would care.
“They said they’ll send another support team tomorrow... we need to find a way to hold on through tonight.”
“Hey, Choi Mina. Where’s that guy?”
“That guy? You mean the mage?”
“Yeah. Where’d he go?”
“No idea. He’s been tinkering near that hole over there since a while ago.”
“Why isn’t he paying attention? Hey! Kim Pro! Kim Pro!”
They turned to me at last.
I was far from them.
I stood below a massive pit dug for the new building’s foundation.
I couldn’t even see—or hear—their faces.
‘Maybe because [Enhanced Vigilance] is active? My senses are too sharp.’
Indeed, it was excessive.
My senses and magic detection were feeding me every detail around me.
The texture of the sand Gwak Daeyong stepped on.
The wriggle of maggots crawling on corpses, the number of flies buzzing and laying eggs, Choi Mina’s pale face as she brushed her hair back.
I was as curious as they were about what happened yesterday, but also about what {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} was happening to me right now.
Swish—
Gwak Daeyong leapt down into the pit.
His footfall rumbled like thunder. Or at least that’s how I perceived it.
“Ugh.”
I covered my ears reflexively, but it was useless. Just as I hadn’t actually seen their expressions, I hadn’t actually heard that sound.
“Kim Pro! Found out anything else?”
“Speak quietly. Don’t come closer.”
Misunderstanding me, Gwak Daeyong raised his combat hammer. Not entirely wrong—so I let it be.
“How many people should be here?”
“Including the workers?”
“Yeah. Total headcount.”
“I don’t know how many Director Mun brought, but it must have been around 150.”
“Then the numbers are off. Even counting all the bodies, it’s only about seventy.”
“What? Then...”
Gwak Daeyong’s gaze naturally shifted to the cave entrance before me.
The cave’s large mouth.
Even from here, only inky darkness deep enough to obscure its depth.
Wheeeee—
At that moment, an eerie resonance echoed from the cave.
A dissonant tone like a miscrafted instrument, so unsettling it sent shivers down my spine.
“Looks like it. Judging by the traces left behind, many people walked in on their own.”
“Walked in... on their own? In there?”
Gwak Daeyong wore an expression of vague terror, as if imagining colleagues stepping into a cave that had slaughtered half the team.
Again, the ominous wheeeee— echo.
Was it the wind—or the call of some monster luring new victims? Faces glazed in trance, people shuffled forward into the darkness.
“No, Team Leader Gwak Daeyong.”
“What? No?”
“The sequence is reversed. People went in first, then something crawled out.”
“I see...”
“Maybe they disturbed something inside. Let’s block this off for now.”
Normally I’d create a simple barrier, but I couldn’t right now.
Instead, I summoned two Command Golems to guard the entrance and, with Gwak Daeyong’s help, piled wrecked metal into an improvised barricade.
‘We’ll need to defend against external intrusion, too.’
I positioned Achilles and the other Command Golems to provide maximum defense.
“Will this hold? What if something else comes out?”
“I’ll deal with that if it happens. It’s a stopgap. Hold out until I return.”
“Return? Where are you going?”
“I have to investigate. While I’m at it, I’ll check the Evergreen Club’s reaction and trace those tracks.”
I pointed to the clear imprints in the dirt.
Marks as if an elephant scraped its belly across the ground, suddenly turning into dozens of horses galloping together.
The tracks ended there... as if they’d leapt. Judging by the location, they must have vaulted over that crane, crashing it down—like a great white shark beaching itself.
That chaotic trace then connected to hundreds of claw marks scored into the earth—spiraling at breakneck speed in frenzy. Nearby lay a fully mangled halberd—the one Curtain Call carried.
Curtain Call’s body wasn’t visible, but with the weapon shattered, it hardly felt safe.
“Weight is about ten tons.”
“Ten tons? Of what?”
“The monster that did this.”
Gwak Daeyong uttered “Ah.” He must have hoped I’d say it was human—but no human left such marks.
“Fangs and wings, hooved feet with clawed hands, dozens of tentacles, faster than a train, and capable of thirteen-meter leaps—do you know what that is?”
“I-I don’t know such a freakish thing.”
I knew.
Among the creatures of Cthulhu World—no, the original Cthulhu Mythos—it’s perhaps second only to the Deep Ones in fame.
“It might come out, so guard this place well. And give me a radio to report in.”
About ten kilometers from the ruined site toward Sokcho...
Riding on back trails beasts might use, or simply plowing through rocks and trees—Kwaaaang!
“Dodolra— please, a little slower—I’m not feeling well.”
Gururururung!
I pleaded, but excited by the rare outing, Dodolra only rumbled in mild confusion and kept running. Ugh... Dodolra, I’m going to die...
Gwakagagagagwang!
If not for [Pyroclasm] boosting my defense, I might have.
“Kreeeek—”
Red’s call from above.
“Almost there? Dodolra, slow down for real!”
I reached out with magic, tugged at Dodolra’s hatch rim, and Dodolra rumbled and twisted before (figuratively) slowing down.
“Ugh... that’s better. Dodolra, you did great. But on the way back, let’s take it easy.”
Grurururung—
Given the circumstances, I couldn’t fault having arrived quickly.
The sky had already darkened.
Though still early evening, thick, ominous clouds blanketed the sky, trapping us in perpetual night.
Ahead stood an old, dilapidated building.
Like my own Hungry Mansion, it loomed eerie among the trees—but this was a single-story traditional hanok.
And bamboo posts at the front gate.
Wrapped in white and red cloth, they signified that a shaman lived here.
“Hmm... something about this feels wrong.”
I hadn’t wandered off mission.
Normally I’d reach this point through clues and witnesses from the construction site.
But everyone who could testify was dead or gone, and the objects that served as clues were all destroyed.
‘What happened here?’
To clear this quest, I needed the shaman who lived here.
But...
Kreeeeek— rattle—
Thud!
I barely nudged the gate, and it fell open.
“Someone’s been here already.”
Was it last night?
I stepped slowly into the shrine, senses on high alert.
But the shaman who should have been waiting for me...
Was already dead.
