NOVEL NEXT Chapter 150: The Burning Drug (9)
I grinned to myself as I placed the Bud Reaper and the Blue Reaper on my palm, sending a little nudge of my will their way.
You’ve only got one shot, so make it count!
Off to the side, the Golden Reaper, who I had told to sit this one out, was pouting on Yerin’s palm, looking just like a sad little puppy that had its dinner bowl swiped away. Aww, poor thing.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Yerin cooed, patting the Golden Reaper’s head, like she was comforting a baby. I think she felt bad for it. I did too, but there was no time to be soft!
With a little hop in my step, I gathered up the last of my firewood, ready to whip up a giant black hole. I didn’t have enough left for another attack after this—just enough to grab Yerin and dash back to the Garden of the Mini Reaper if things went south. But hey, let’s stay positive!
As I pushed the remaining firewood into my hands, I watched it slowly darken, a hazy mist swirling around. The Bud Reaper and the Blue Reaper perched on my shoulder, their tiny faces all serious and ready to go. I could feel their little hearts racing!
The giant pig, catching on that something huge was coming, locked eyes with me, like it was daring me to make a move. Ooh, it was really watching me now!
Let’s mess with it a little.
< block="" its="" vision!="">
< wrap="" us="" in="" thick="" fog!="">< shatter="" its="" senses!="">
As the fog rolled in, smothering its vision and jumbling up its senses, I stretched my hands out. Time to give this piggy a show!
And just like that, it freaked out, covering itself in flames and barreling toward me at full speed, like a giant fireball on legs.
I couldn’t help but giggle as I clenched my hands, ready for the next move.
Clench!
***The King of Pigs, the master of the mountain range, mulled over the confusion clouding its mind. It had to kill all its enemies. That was the promise it had made with ■■.
For its mountain, for its kin, for ■■.
But now, its vision blurred as space twisted again. Once more, the space contracted, tearing into its flesh and bones without an ounce of mercy. Even as its body was shredded, the King of Pigs refused to die. No, this level of pain would never be enough.
Though agony coursed through its entire being as flesh and bone were reluctantly stitched back together, it saw the enemy. Through nearly blind eyes, dim with fatigue, it could still make out the faint presence of its opponent.
And that presence… was weakening.
I will win.
The enemy was strong, yes, but not strong enough. Its power was vast, but not endless.
If this dragged on, the foe would exhaust itself, or be forced into a fatal misstep. The King of Pigs, with all its primal cunning, was waiting for that moment.
Yes… the enemy would have no choice. It would have to make a desperate move to shift the tide of battle.
< block="" its="" vision!="">
< wrap="" us="" in="" thick="" fog!="">
< shatter="" its="" senses!="">
That moment arrived sooner than expected.
A thick fog unfurled, wrapping the battlefield in darkness. The King of Pigs’ sight dimmed, but it didn’t matter—it could still feel the enemy’s presence, and it was fading, quickly.
The enemy had wagered everything on one final attack.
The King of Pigs tensed. This was its moment. As the enemy’s presence thinned, something else appeared. A crushing weight descended, and the very fabric of space cried out.
Something unfathomable was coming.
With a roar that shook the mountains, the King of Pigs charged, engulfing its massive body in flames. It would meet this threat head-on, in a clash of pure strength. But it was no fool—it was prepared to dodge, to outwit its prey if necessary.
As it neared, the fog parted to reveal a fractured, shimmering boundary. The mist began to shift unnaturally, blocked by an invisible force. The flow of the fog bent, twisting as if pressed against an unseen barrier. Then, the air itself warped, like glass beads scattered through the atmosphere, distorting the scene as though viewed through a fish-eye lens.
A transparent yet opaque boundary had trapped the King of Pigs.
Then came the darkness.
A void vast enough to envelop the King of Pigs spread out, swallowing the landscape where even light dared not shine.
And from within that abyss, a sound. The mournful song of a collapsing space, a low, resonant hum that heralded the end. This was the signal the King of Pigs had been waiting for—the moment it had to strike and avoid destruction in one swift move.
The black sphere appeared, and with it, the pig leaped through space, aiming for the area behind the enemy. It would attack the instant it evaded—perfect timing, a flawless counter.
But then, everything stopped.
The pig’s mouth hung open, teeth poised to crush, yet all was still. The fog that had shrouded the battlefield dispersed like an illusion, and what lay before the King of Pigs was not the sky but a vast tree.
A tree of gold and navy, unfamiliar yet eerily familiar.
It could not move.
Why?
In the suffocating silence, only one being stirred. Its enemy.
A gray-skinned creature, with yellow flames burning within its hollow frame, floated slowly toward the King of Pigs. As it drew near, it tapped a finger against one of the pig’s massive molars. The tooth moved, but not of its own will.
No. No!
The King of Pigs was dragged backward, a blue afterimage trailing behind it. Its body was retreating, as if retracing its steps, back through the path it had traveled before it was suspended in time.
The gate, which had vanished, reappeared as time rewound. The shattered earth pieced itself together, and fragments of the mountain were sucked back into place.
Only its time was being reversed.
The King of Pigs struggled, every fiber of its being resisting the pull, but it was futile.
Then, it happened.
The black sphere, already devouring space, consumed the King of Pigs in an instant. Its body was ground away, torn asunder in one swift motion.
In those final moments, as its flesh dissolved, the King of Pigs glimpsed an old memory, buried deep within.
A hazy recollection, long forgotten.
It was from its birth.
A memory of a white guardian, peering down at the newborn King of Pigs, while behind it loomed a colossal figure, watching with cold, expressionless eyes.
With that memory, the King of Pigs closed its eyes. Forever.
***I won!
It’s finally over.
The giant pig, all fast and furious, was dead.
As the earth vortex that had been swirling everything around started to fade away, the huge open space where the pigs had been causing chaos began to shrink super quickly. It was like the world was snapping back to normal, which felt kinda nice.
The Bud Reaper? Oh, poor thing—it was already snoozing in the arms of the Golden Reaper. But the Golden Reaper wasn’t exactly being gentle. Nope, it was smiling all bright and happy, tossing the Bud Reaper into the air like a little celebration. Adorable, right? Except… judging by how Bud Reaper’s eyebrows furrowed even in its sleep, I don’t think it was feeling all that thrilled.
“It’s finally over!”
Yerin came running over, her face practically glowing, shouting in excitement. She was so cute when she was all relieved like that.
“Reaper! You won, huh?”
She grabbed my hands, all smiles and sparkles, but… oh, no.
Crumble-!
Yeah, as soon as Yerin’s hands touched mine, they turned to dust and crumbled right there! You should’ve seen her face—she looked so shocked!
It was the Navy Bud Reaper’s ability—Ability to reverse the enemy’s position. Totally drained more firewood than I thought, whoops.
“Are you okay? Are you okay?” Yerin started panicking, and… hehe, a funny little idea popped into my head.
Hihihi.
Suppressing the firewood’s glow, I dramatically fell backward as I’d just collapsed, all unconscious-like. And yeah, it hurt a tiny bit, but I cut the firewood flowing to my legs, letting them crumble into ashes too. Super convincing, right?
“No! Reaper!!!”
Yerin’s panicked scream was so dramatic, she started shaking me, sobbing like crazy. She even buried her face into my chest like some kinda tragic heroine.
Perfect.
I figured it was time to stop the prank, so I opened my eyes… and… uh, Yerin wasn’t moving.
Huh?
Wait, did she actually… faint?!
Oh nooo, she fainted from shock! Extreme mental shock, maybe?! Oops.
Meanwhile, the mini-reapers were hovering nearby, giving me the dirtiest looks, like I was absolute trash or something.
What the… why!
I quickly laid Yerin down and shook her, but she didn’t even budge.
Yerin! Wake up! It was just a joke!
Was she seriously… not okay?!
She wasn’t suffering from something for real, was she?! Oh no, oh no, oh no!
***I rushed to work after hearing about some unidentified woman showing up at the Sehee Research Institute in the early morning—who, as it turned out, was James’ personal secretary.
Yep, James’ personal secretary was suddenly brought here. Totally normal, right?
Naturally, my mind started spinning. This had to be connected to the Gray Reaper or Oh Yerin somehow, but trying to get info on that in Korea? Ha! Forget it.
The news about the spirit barrier burning down—yeah, that big story—got shut down too, just like that. I couldn’t reach James, so I just forwarded the secretary’s hospital report to his email. That’s professional enough, right?
The Korean Object Association, ugh, they love to control information like this sometimes. But why? No clue. It was a little worrying, but I figured it’d be fine.
The Gray Reaper was with them, so if anything really serious happened, it’d show up with Yerin, all cool and dramatic, and fix everything. I liked that plan.
After sorting through my tasks, I decided to clear my head with an early morning walk. That’s when I stumbled upon something… odd.
While passing Sehee’s office, I noticed the door was slightly open, and through that crack, I spotted a staircase—an underground staircase. Suspicious much?
Oh, and then I remembered that ridiculous rumor I’d heard floating around the institute. You know, the one about how no matter how much money Sehee’s research institute made, its finances never improved because there was supposedly a giant golden statue hidden in the basement.
Yeah, it was laughable. Except now, staring at this weird, hidden staircase… I wasn’t so sure.
So, naturally, I did what any reasonable person would do: I grabbed my phone and ventured down those secret stairs, relying only on the dim light of the screen. Genius move, Seoah, really.
Director Lee Sehee always ran things by the book. Her budgeting? Transparent as glass. So why on earth would she have built this underground… thing?
With every step I took, I regretted not checking the budget reports more closely. I mean, who knew what was down here?
Finally, I reached the bottom, and… wow. The underground space was massive. Spacious, comfy, and honestly, sparkling like some sort of underground palace. Air conditioning was running, making it feel oddly pleasant for a basement.
But then—oh, then my eyes fell on the centerpiece of this underground hideaway.
A huge golden statue.
And not just any golden statue—it was of the Gray Reaper. Yup, the giant, expressionless face told me right away that this wasn’t the little Golden Reaper, but its much bigger, scarier counterpart.
“How much did this cost?” I muttered to myself, still half in awe.
It didn’t take a genius to see this entire underground setup, from the statue to the space itself, had to cost an outrageous amount of money. And there I was, walking around in this… hidden, gilded lair, breathing the cool air that felt way too fresh for something underground.
As I wandered, my brain still trying to make sense of all this, I suddenly heard a voice.
“You finally saw it, Seoah.”
My heart practically jumped out of my chest. I spun around, and there, standing in the shadows at the top of the staircase, was Sehee. She was watching me, calm as ever.