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Thus, the Government sent a person to Park Jinseong.

With quite the anticipation, I must say.

However, that anticipation did not extend beyond the bounds of a “promising talent.”

Instead of directly dragging a heavy body over, they decided to send the most suitable person for the current situation.

* * *

The building in the bustling district exuded a chilling vibe.

The unsettling feeling that sent shivers down the spines of passersby was not due to the location or the temperature, but rather the atmosphere enveloping that building itself. The empty glass windows, the tape crisscrossing the windows as if prepared for a typhoon, and the four bold characters easily seen from afar.

The sign read: “For Lease.”

The characters were written in a flamboyant calligraphy as if brushed by hand.

However, what was peculiar was that the paper on which the calligraphy was inscribed had a strangely yellowish tint, and notably, lacked any contact information that one would normally expect.

It felt as though they did not genuinely want to lease the place, but rather just put up a sign as a formal gesture.

Behind it lay a dusty, empty space.

The dust and unused materials scattered within that space yielded an inexplicable chill just by looking at it.

As I stared, it seemed as though darkness was twisting and moving within—was that just an optical illusion, or perhaps a hallucination conjured by my fear-stricken brain?

The cold atmosphere emanating from the vacant building and the inexplicable ominous vibe given off by the building itself.

Those two factors kept ordinary people from passing by that building at midnight.

Surely, it was located in a busy area, surrounded by numerous vehicles, throngs of pedestrians, and countless places that operated until dawn.

And right now.

There stood someone on the very spot everyone else shunned.

The man who emerged from between the buildings had an almost nonexistent presence, as if he were entwined with the darkness of the alleyway. Had it not been for the breath he exhaled with each step, one might easily mistake him for a ghost.

The man in the suit and shoes appeared utterly ordinary.

He was the very stereotype of a middle-aged male office worker in the Republic of Korea.

Worn-out shoes, a suit crumpled from work, slightly slumped shoulders, and a face weary with fatigue.

Even his face was the sort you could see anywhere on the streets.

To exaggerate a little, if shown to any random passerby, one might impulsively exclaim, “Oh? He looks just like someone I know!”

Indeed.

He was ordinary, average, and plain.

Whether it was the person walking down the street, someone driving by, or an employee lost in thought while gazing out from a workplace window, or perhaps a store worker stepping outside for a quick smoke—none of them would pay any mind to this man.

He was as common as the daily scenery, a constant part of the background, and an entity ignored by all.

Thus people paid him no heed.

Even when the man walked up to the chilling building and stood before it.

Even when he knocked on the glass door, making a sound that went unheard.

No one took notice.

Yet the man remained unfazed by the fact that no one was paying him any attention.

In fact, he acted with an air of confidence, as if this were exactly how things should be, a matter of common sense.

However, cracks began to appear in the man’s confident demeanor.

Clang.

What startled the man was the bizarre occurrence right before his eyes.

Beyond the glass door, no one was visible.

Even when he tried to raise his energy, he felt no presence.

Neither humans nor ghosts existed there.

But then.

Something moved.

“What is that?”

How should I describe this?

The presence was nearly non-existent.

It was neither machine nor overtly biological.

It slithered across the ground like a snake, yet it was not a snake, and it lacked any warmth.

Veiled in a chilling essence, it twisted and squirmed, barely revealing its form even with heightened energy.

Slowly, it approached the door, using the thorns that had grown at its end to methodically unlock the door.

Clank.

Thus, whatever it was that had unlocked the door entwined itself with a chain and began to sink slowly to the floor.

With a clatter, the chain dropped to the ground, and the writhing entity seemed to fade back into the darkness as though its task was complete.

Darkness?

No, to say it slipped into darkness felt wrong.

It seemed more like it seeped into the ground, disappearing somewhere underground.

“Huh.”

The man let out a breath as if expressing exasperation at the bizarre sight before him.

“That’s disgustingly grotesque.”

Despite the door’s lock being released, the man remained rooted in place.

An inexplicable instinct warned him that inside was a den of tigers.

No, calling it a tiger’s den felt inadequate.

Inside was like a tiger’s mouth.

‘Talented in magic, they said. Indeed.’

The man marveled at the innate warning sent by his instincts.

He admired the stronghold created by Park Jinseong, the promising sorcerer; he marveled at the skill that allowed him to lay traps capable of issuing warnings.

The man speculated that Park Jinseong might be an even more extraordinary shaman than the government anticipated, and slowly pushed open the glass door.

Creeeak.

The door groaned on its old hinges as it opened ever so gradually.

Yet even as the glass door swung open, the scenery within remained unchanged.

An empty space.

The unlit area exuded a vibe where it wouldn’t be surprising for a ghost to pop out at any moment.

“No, maybe a ghost could indeed materialize.”

If Park Jinseong had expertise in necromancy, it was entirely possible that he could summon ghosts to repel intruders.

“I have no clue what the trap could be.”

The man felt his instincts urging him to exercise caution, and he stepped carefully.

Thanks to extensive training, his movements were nonchalant and seemed quite ordinary, yet every move he made was imbued with a sense of vigilance.

He moved cautiously towards the elevator and pressed the button for the highest floor where Jinseong awaited.

Ding.

The elevator felt equally unsettling.

It gave the impression of being under surveillance.

“Is it a security camera?”

Thus, the man listened to the rattling of the elevator as it ascended to the top floor.

Ding-dong.

[ Arrived at the #$%# floor. ]

Was it a problem with the speaker?

The front part was garbled, making it hard to hear, but along with the message indicating they had arrived, the elevator door slowly opened.

As soon as the elevator door opened, he saw an elegantly designed table and chairs.

And a young man, smiling as he looked at him.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

He was tall, thin, and bore a resemblance to a rabbit.

The man, known as a promising shaman to the government.

A surprisingly capable local wizard from Korea.

It was Park Jinseong.

“I figured you’d arrive around this time. Please, have a seat.”

“Oh, pardon me.”

Jinseong courteously guided the man to his seat.

And when the two were finally seated, the self-introductions began.

“It’s an honor to meet you. While I can’t tell you my full affiliation… I am Kim Cheolsu, working for the government. Currently, I am serving as a secretary, so please feel free to call me Secretary Kim.”

The man introduced himself while extending his business card.

The card he presented was nothing out of the ordinary.

At the top, it read: “Council Member Kim Gakwang,” followed by “Secretary Kim Cheolsu.” Below that were the address and contact information for the building.

When Jinseong saw the business card, a smile spread across his face.

“Kim Cheolsu.”

He can’t provide detailed affiliation.

He works for the government.

“Currently” a secretary.

And then there’s the incredibly common name, Kim Cheolsu.

Putting all this together leads to only one conclusion.

“An agent.”

What met Jinseong’s eyes in the form of “Kim Cheolsu” was full of lies.

No, there was nothing that wasn’t a lie.

His natural features seemed disconnected, suggesting plastic surgery.

Though he uttered the name, it lacked weight or presence, marking it as falsehood.

The attire and mannerisms felt mismatched with the atmosphere, thus it too was an act.

The essence flowing within and the nature of his voice diverged, indicating that manipulation had been at play on that front as well.

However, Jinseong exhibited no special reaction to Kim Cheolsu’s deceit.

Just because there was no authenticity didn’t mean it was wrong.

Hiding or distorting one’s shape with the hairs of another does not change one’s essence, nor does wearing a mask to hide a face make it stick permanently.

Acting is merely like clothing, and there’s no one in the world who insults another for merely putting on clothes.

Therefore, the lies encircling Kim Cheolsu were nothing more than garments for others to perceive, just as Jinseong’s manner of speaking, expressions, and gestures were also for others to see.

“You’re helping with national affairs. It’s an honor to meet someone doing such esteemed work. I’m just a nothing special sorcerer named Park Jinseong.”

Yet, there was a difference.

“Hahaha. Nothing special? Surely you jest. The government has high hopes for you, Park Jinseong. Despite your youth, your talents shine brightly, don’t they?”

Kim Cheolsu wielded falsehoods while Jinseong concealed or distorted the truth.

“No, really. How many truly remarkable people are out there to be so arrogant? Pride leads only to complacency, and complacency signifies stagnation. If one becomes stagnant, they forget how to run, merely spinning in cycles, thus straying further from their goals. Therefore, a seeker should cast away pride and arrogance, embracing humility and more humility, as it is the appropriate stance.”

Park Jinseong was the one who hid or distorted the truth.

 

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