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The research institute at the Root of Belladonna is built in a very secretive and dangerous place, designed so that no outsiders can access it. It’s as if it were a hidden stronghold.

You might think that a research institute built in a mere tourist spot couldn’t possibly claim to be a stronghold, but astonishingly enough, that’s no exaggeration at all.

First of all, excluding the demonic conditions of the swarming Water Ghosts and the contaminated sea water outside, one had to dive quite a bit to reach the bottom and find a small hole obscured by seaweed.

Moreover, that hole was barely wide enough for a single person to squeeze through; any ordinary skin diver would naturally miss it.

Is finding it the end of the ordeal?

Not at all.

Upon penetrating that cleverly disguised entrance, you would be greeted by a narrow passage so tight it feels like it could trap your body. Plus, its ruggedness is reminiscent of thorns, so while getting in from the outside isn’t a problem, attempting to escape from inside forces you to confront those ‘thorns’ head-on.

Looking at it prompts thoughts like—if you unwittingly stepped in, you’d end up trapped and could die.

You might get scratched by those thorns on the way out, bleeding to death, or suffocate because the oxygen runs out.

And what if you endure such fears and venture inside?

Inside awaits nothing but a wall.

The blunt dead-end, clearly untouched by human hands, leaves those who came to explore the cave feeling utterly deflated after all their struggles. And just when you feel crushed by disappointment, the sight of thorns still lingers, urgently compelling you to escape.

Strangely enough, the space is cramped but just enough to rotate your body and slip back outside.

And so, the skin diver emerges.

Bearing the painful lesson of those thorns deep in mind.

Yet all of this is a mere disguise.

The small entrance, the claustrophobic tunnel, the thorny walls, the dead-end—it’s all a ruse.

The reality is so cunningly crafted, it cleverly exploits human psychology, and at the same time, it’s been lavishly funded to allow for modification and expansion at will—it’s truly a linear labyrinth.

Naturally, passing through this maze requires unconventional methods.

Especially because, given that this maze is always adaptable, it’s even more imperative.

It was akin to saying that any intruder could wander endlessly within the maze.

Thus, what you need is camouflage.

Another disguise to counter the original disguise.

In that sense, Park Jinseong’s use of dolls and Water Ghosts was a splendid choice.

While he may not know about the security measures of this facility, it truly was a stroke of luck that everything fell into place.

The sensors for detecting living organisms set up in the passageway didn’t respond to the tiny body of the doll, and the heat detectors judged the ice sculpture of Park Jinseong’s doll to merely be a piece of drifting ice or ordinary trash heaps.

What about the electromagnetic wave detectors or magnetic field sensors to detect spirits?

Of course, they were there.

And measures had been taken to sprinkle holy water on the area to exorcise any spirits.

However, that was the extent of the measures taken, and the Water Ghosts from North Korea easily withstood that.

Certainly, if they had been regular Water Ghosts, they would have bolted the instant they sensed the holy water, so it was a sufficient measure… but unfortunately, what had come here was a pack of Water Ghosts controlled by Park Jinseong.

Thus, the doll had no trouble entering the research institute.

This doesn’t mean that it entered through a well-hidden entrance, though.

If even this passage was like this, then the door was undoubtedly covered in security devices that were far beyond anything Park Jinseong could imagine.

Just a haphazardly made doll and a handful of Water Ghosts wouldn’t be able to open that door.

But as I said earlier, wasn’t everything just a perfect match?

Indeed, it was.

Park Jinseong’s doll couldn’t enter through the main door, but it could, in any case, access a facility connected to the research institute.

“A refuse disposal site.”

The research institute was a place where experiments take place.

And experiments and research inevitably produce waste material relevant to the subject.

Waste that is either no longer useful or deemed hazardous and needed to be discarded.

However, a problem arises here.

It is common sense that even simple human waste should be distanced or isolated from places where people live, and waste should be treated likewise.

But unlike simple waste, this ‘waste’ is particularly troublesome to dispose of.

Human waste can simply be dumped into the sea.

Sure, it makes the seawater a bit murky, and those who have to plunge into or pass through that water might feel a tad uneasy, but that’s about it. Fish and seaweed will take care of it for you.

But waste?

No matter how full of toxic substances and Water Ghosts it is—even more so, because of that, it shouldn’t be haphazardly discarded in the ocean. Unforeseen problems might arise due to chemical reactions.

What if a dropped piece of waste turns the nearby seawater into poison that could dissolve your insides with just a drop, or transforms into a substance that could corrode the coatings of submarines passing to and fro, eroding the walls?

No, there’s no need to go that far.

What if a Water Ghost reacts to the waste and evolves or optimally adapts in a strange way, enabling it to invade the research institute?

That would be a calamity.

Thus, it’s common sense to have a separate facility to dispose of waste.

And well, rather than just using it to dump waste, they’ve set up a place where you can also throw away household trash, as well as a spot for gorged fish or humans who foolishly wandered in and met their end, along with the trash of modern civilization…

Right.

So it’s not surprising that when Park Jinseong’s doll entered the half-flooded waste disposal area, the first sight it encountered was a bloated corpse with just bones remaining, the flesh having been entirely consumed. And those small fish that had created an ecosystem by failing to escape after entering in pursuit of the scavenged corpses, perhaps even the equipment they were wearing in life.

But if you asked whether this was enough to make Park Jinseong shine, the answer would naturally be no.

He had seen plenty of fools who stepped into dangerous places and perished, or exploration teams he had sent that had been wiped out.

What Park Jinseong was focused on wasn’t the corpse with the equipment.

Rather, it was the opposite.

The body that had died without possessing any equipment at all.

“A multi-purpose body disposal site.”

No oxygen tanks, fins, wetsuits, devices to block toxins, not even an artifact.

Not even the essential multi-tool or even a simple pocket knife. Moreover, their attire appeared like they were tourists—brightly colored shorts and short-sleeved shirts, drenched padding, and the keys to sunken cars and houses lying on the floor…

“Huhm. Judging by their attire and bones… If they had ever fought even once, there should’ve been some signs left. There’s no sign of training from the sound of things, nor for that matter, the absence of energy traces….”

Right.

These were civilians.

This was the site where the remains of individuals presumed to have been tourists, perhaps trying to gather memories at some recreational spot, lay literally like “trash” in the refuse disposal site.

And stepping over those corpses leads to another passageway.

Crafted for convenience, though segmented by sections, still interconnected.

As you traverse this passage, heading deeper than the outskirts strewn with civilian and explorer corpses like garbage, a different space emerges.

“This is…?”

Inside that space lies another horrifying sight.

Dreadful in its own right compared to the previous room filled with bones and belongings.

Blood, albeit diluted by seawater, still asserts its presence on the floor, and from holes embedded in the walls, seawater flows continuously at a steady rate. This mixed and diluted blood is sucked into a hole at the end of the slanted floor.

Yet, even diluted, the concentration of blood remains consistent due to another apparatus located above this space.

Plop.

Plop.

Multiple hooks suitable for hanging meat.

These hooks hang from the ceiling like fruits ripening on trees, heavy branches of a willow drooping low. They seem to relish piercing humans like fishing hooks, and indeed, the scene resembles something from a slaughterhouse.

Hooks passing between ribs.

People dangling with their arms limp.

At the very lowest part of these dangling individuals are wounds.

Those with intact feet have injuries on their feet and ankles, those without knees lack their lower legs, and those without legs have injuries to their genitals and pelvic areas.

From these crafted wounds, blood drips.

In sync with the movements of the hooks racing through this space.

“It’s like a toy.”

This is a cruel game.

Swinging humans about, squeezing them to rain blood.

It was a horrendous act perpetrated in what’s hardly worthy of being called part of the research institute, simply taking place in a dump.

 

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