The Eldritch Files

Chapter 40: Chapter 38: The Pseudo-human in the Elevator

"Yep, this is it. It’s got that ’coming home’ feeling."

While everyone else was exchanging bewildered glances, Han Su, standing in the crowd, relaxed his taut nerves and let out a contented sigh. Then, he turned his head slightly to survey his surroundings.

The others were all staring fixedly at the elevators, not even blinking, but Han Su paid more attention to the environment around them.

It was too familiar.

The air in this space was saturated with an indescribable tension and malevolence. It was as if the very atmosphere was filled with countless unknown, invisible threads, stitching the entire area together.

Something unknown lurked within the shadows, which seemed to have come alive, flowing, gathering, and dispersing in the darkness.

Han Su knew what this feeling was. He had been to the Ancient Castle so many times that the sensation had practically seeped into his bones. It was a sign that something twisted was about to appear, the same mysterious aura found only on monsters that shouldn’t exist in reality.

He’d grown accustomed to this feeling in the Ancient Castle, but he never thought he would re-experience it in a modern skyscraper.

’How should I put it? It feels like a nightmare I have every day has suddenly become real.’

"Watch out."

Not even a second had passed. The others were still dazed, and many were even looking at Little Fatty, about to ask him a question, when the warning came from Han Su.

At the same time, he had already drawn his gun.

SSHHH-RIP!

In that moment of distraction, there was a sound like something thick being torn apart. It was the sound of reason itself, of reality, fading away.

The next moment, the four elevators they had been watching all night without any sign of activity opened simultaneously. Then, Pale, humanoid things spilled out from within, tumbling out like cargo stacked inside.

The people present didn’t even have time to react before they were tackled to the ground by these things.

The creatures were sticky. They were clearly humanoid in shape, but they felt far too soft to the touch, lacking the texture of human skin. Someone suddenly got a clear look at one of the things’ faces.

His heart almost leaped out of his chest. The thing had no face at all—just a blank, dough-like surface that writhed and twisted grotesquely.

"AHHHH..."

This unimaginable transformation caused several people on the scene to shriek in terror.

The overwhelming sense of mystery and grotesqueness was one thing to hear about, but once you came into close contact with it—once it was on top of you, in your face—you realized just how fragile your sanity truly was.

BANG!

But just then, a gunshot rang out. Han Su had already taken a step back before the elevators even opened, and now, he fired without hesitation.

As the bullet struck one of the creatures, a sound like something shattering rang out.

A wound appeared on the dough-man’s body, like brightly colored skin being torn open. Then, crimson blood splattered out. The dough-man closest to Han Su staggered backward, as if it were a real person who had been shot.

’It works...’

’But my aim is terrible...’

’...’

Han Su thought to himself, his wrist trembling slightly.

’Black Hood told me the gun would have a lot of recoil and even taught me a few techniques to absorb it, but he never said it would be *this* bad...’

’It’s just a freaking handgun, not a machine gun. Why the hell is the recoil so insane?’

’What the hell are those R&D guys even doing?’

KRR-UNCH!

In that same instant, before anyone else could react, the man in camouflage suddenly strode forward and charged into the fray.

His superior reflexes had allowed him to dodge the initial swarm of dough-men from the elevators, but he immediately saw the trainees pinned to the floor.

The four elevators had opened simultaneously, and the things that poured out were too bizarre. Only Han Su, the man in camouflage, Little Fatty, and one other trainee who had been standing further back had sensed the danger in time to dodge. Three trainees were pinned underneath the creatures.

The man in camouflage held a gun, but after a moment’s hesitation, he surprisingly didn’t use it.

He instantly holstered the gun and faced two pale faces rushing toward him. He took a sharp step, drew back his elbow, and bent his body like a bow before slamming his elbow solidly into one of their faces.

The creature’s face was soft, as if boneless, which effectively dissipated the force of his blow.

However, his elbow was simply too hard and the blow too powerful. And although the thing was soft, it had a waxy texture that still absorbed some of the impact, so it was sent flying.

The next moment, the man in camouflage closed the distance with a quick step, raised his knee, and sent another dough-man that was halfway to its feet flying into the air.

Immediately after, he ducked his head sharply, headbutting a dough-man that was pouncing on him from above and knocking it aside.

He cleared the space around him, quickly pulled a trainee up from the ground, and flung him toward the group behind without even looking. Then he kicked off the wall for leverage, launching himself into the air.

For a moment, it looked like a scene out of a martial arts movie—he ran a few steps along the wall, plunged deeper into the horde, and pulled out another trainee who was being swarmed by countless dough-men, tossing him far outside the encirclement.

The instant he landed, he spun around with a hook kick that caught an approaching dough-man and lifted it into the air, following up with an axe kick that slammed it solidly onto the ground.

His movements were swift and powerful, like a rampaging bull, yet they carried an oppressive, chilling calm.

When the man in camouflage wasn’t fighting, he just seemed wooden and cold. But once he started, he gave off an uncanny, terrifying aura.

Wherever he passed, the scattered dough-men were sent flying as if they were made of paper-mâché. He quickly cleared an empty circle around himself.

The third trainee was about to be dragged into an elevator by countless hands reaching out from inside, but the man in camouflage managed to grab him by the neck in the nick of time and forcefully yank the petrified trainee free.

’This guy... his skills are that good?’

Even Han Su, watching from the outside, couldn’t help but twitch an eyebrow.

"Th-they’re monsters..."

Beside him, one of the trainees just rescued by the man in camouflage finally managed to cry out. Shaking, he raised his gun and fumbled to switch off the safety.

"They’re just monsters. Haven’t you seen one before?"

Han Su reacted instantly, slapping the gun out of his hands and onto the floor. "There’s someone in there! Don’t just fire blindly!" he barked.

The trainee looked like he was about to cry. ’Who the hell has ever seen anything like this?!’

After knocking the gun away, Han Su glanced at the others, worried they might panic and accidentally shoot the man in camouflage, who was now trapped inside because he’d been rescuing them. Only then did he shout a warning to the man in the middle of the horde:

"Are your fists harder than bullets? Why aren’t you shooting?!"

"..."

The man in camouflage saw Han Su’s face and knew the warning was for him. But when he recalled what Little Fatty had said earlier, he still seemed to hesitate.

Right at that moment, Little Fatty, standing nearby, seemed to have finally confirmed something. He yelled, "Shoot! Shoot! Our mission is to stop them from getting out..."

"No, wait..."

After shouting, he quickly added, "Be careful! Don’t hit our own people."

"..."

BANG! BANG! BANG!

In the midst of the dough-men, the man in camouflage finally stopped hesitating. He smashed one back with his elbow, drew his gun, and it was as if a switch had been flipped on a killing machine. He instantly delivered a series of headshots, felling several dough-men around him.

He fought his way out of the horde, firing as he went.

But just then, the elevator doors closed and opened again, and a new flood of creatures poured out. This wave was even more bizarre, barely even humanoid anymore.

A dozen twisted arms, as if connected together by some grotesque surgery, flailed about, grabbing at the man in camouflage’s shoulders, arms, and back. Some even tried to snatch the gun from his hand.

The man in camouflage twisted his body and swept his elbow out, breaking free from most of them as he tried to rush out.

But more hands immediately shot out from the elevator, grabbing onto him and trying to drag him inside.

In that instant, however, Han Su suddenly took a step forward. His right hand still holding his gun, he instinctively reached out his left, grabbing the man in camouflage’s hand from a distance and pulling with all his might.

Only when he pulled did he realize how incredibly heavy the man in camouflage was. It was hard to imagine just how strong those arms were. Not only could he not budge the man, but he even felt himself being pulled forward.

But in this state of high tension, Han Su’s focus was already locked onto his left hand, which was under immense strain.

Unconsciously, the scar on the back of his left hand suddenly flared with intense pain.

In the dim light, the cross-shaped scar inexplicably flashed with a copper-colored glint, as if it weren’t made of flesh and blood but was instead a scar cast from some bizarre copper.

Han Su could feel the Spiritual Power he was focusing on the scar being rapidly consumed.

But at that same moment, his left hand suddenly became bizarre, rigid, and abnormally powerful, as if it had transformed from flesh and blood into a mechanical limb cast from copper.

He gripped the man in camouflage’s hand so tightly that the bones crackled. The next instant, he stomped his right foot, gave a ferocious tug, and the man’s two-hundred-plus-pound body was yanked out of the horde, flying over Han Su’s head to land outside the crowd.