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Chapter 06
A refined beige coat concealed a foul stench that seemed to drift through the alley.
“Murders and corpse disposal.”
Suhyuk didn’t know the full details of the sin—but he didn’t particularly want to.
Just the presence of sin itself was revolting enough.
When the bus arrived, the woman picked up her bag and stood.
Her eyes still held the expression of a woman intoxicated by love and anticipation.
But to Suhyuk, she was nothing more than trash destined to scatter into black ash.
The bus stopped at the station, and the woman boarded with light steps.
Suhyuk gently twisted the throttle and followed behind the bus on his scooter.
The Spirit-Tracking Compass fixed on the scooter’s dashboard pointed directly at the bus.
Even if he lost sight of it for a moment, it didn’t matter.
He only had to follow the direction the compass pointed.
After several stops, the bus halted again.
When the woman got off, the compass shifted to track her instead.
Suhyuk parked his scooter slightly away from the stop, near the mouth of an alley.
He opened the delivery box and took out the Shinigami’s Cloak, draping it over himself.
As he pulled the hood deep over his head, his presence seemed to dissolve beyond the noise of reality.
* * *
The café—his arranged meeting place—came into view.
She stopped before entering and checked herself.
Seo Yoonju’s beauty was not just pride; it was survival, a weapon.
Before meeting a man, she always made sure nothing was out of place.
She walked into the public restroom attached to the building beside the café.
Standing before the mirror, she opened her makeup pouch.
She tapped on her cushion foundation and checked her lips.
In the mirror, Seo Yoonju’s eyes looked pure and harmless.
No man had ever failed to be deceived by that gaze.
“An R&D researcher from a major corporation, huh?”
She calculated mentally.
This time, she could probably demand a bigger sum.
Maybe fake an incurable illness to extract hospital expenses… or cry about lacking funds for a wedding deposit.
“Maybe 800 million won? No, those naive types might even lend over a billion.”
A sly smile crept onto her lips.
The thought of her future target eventually breaking down in tears, begging, collapsing into despair—was intoxicating.
Guilt?
She had been born without it.
Obstacles in her life were always meant to be stepped over or removed.
Crime itself no longer existed in her mind.
As if it had never been there at all.
Only thoughts of how to drain her next victim’s wallet filled her head.
Click.
The restroom door opened.
But no one appeared in the mirror’s reflection.
The door simply opened… and closed again.
“…A draft?”
She briefly found it odd, but turned back to the mirror.
Probably someone tried to enter and left.
She reapplied her lipstick.
“Perfect. Time to go make money again.”
Just as she smiled at herself—
“…!!”
A chilling sensation crawled up from her feet.
It wasn’t simple coldness.
It felt as if something invisible had grabbed her legs and was squeezing them violently.
“Agh… AAH! What is this?!”
She collapsed onto the tiled floor, screaming.
Her smooth, pale skin rapidly shriveled like dried leaves.
Her muscles twisted. Bones protruded beneath her skin.
“Keuk! Help… help me!”
She screamed with all her strength, praying someone would hear her.
But the pain didn’t stop—it surged upward, crushing her chest.
Breathing became impossible.
In the mirror, Seo Yoonju was no longer a beautiful woman.
She looked like a terrified old crone, screaming in horror.
“AHHH! My face! What happened to my face?!”
She reached desperately toward the mirror—
but from her fingertips, black particles began to crumble away.
Soon, nothing remained in the restroom except her fallen makeup pouch and lipstick rolling across the floor.
Suhyuk quietly opened the restroom door and stepped out.
The foul aura of [murder], [corpse disposal], and [fraud] that had lingered there moments ago had completely vanished.
A message appeared before his eyes.
- The sinner has been judged.
- You obtained 10 Hell Points as a reward for judgment.
“Still 50 Hell Points left.”
He calculated the remaining points needed for the Shinigami’s Step as he walked back toward the alley.
Just as he was about to remove the cloak and place it in the delivery box, the Spirit Compass—previously calm—began to vibrate violently again.
“…What?”
Suhyuk followed the compass needle with his gaze.
Two men were walking out of the café holding cups of coffee.
Casual clothes, worn sneakers.
At a glance, they looked like ordinary office workers.
They headed toward a black SUV parked by the roadside.
Suhyuk observed them closely.
Then black text began to spread above one man’s head like ink, forming words.
- Bribery
- Disclosure of classified information in official duty
- Aiding and abetting murder
- Drug distribution facilitation
- Concealment of crime
- Abuse of power
Suhyuk immediately understood.
That man was the “pipeline” Chick Gang had mentioned.
Judging by their appearance and sins, they were narcotics unit detectives.
“The police station was nearby.”
Suhyuk quietly started his scooter.
The SUV carrying them moved toward the nearby police station as expected.
Using the scooter’s mobility, he reached the area ahead of them and waited.
Soon, the SUV entered the police station.
“I need information from him.”
Causing trouble inside the station would be suicide.
If an investigation began, it would only complicate things.
It would be cleaner to extract information after work and send him to hell then.
If he used the execution ability properly, it would likely be treated as a simple disappearance.
By afternoon, he should return.
It was still morning.
Loitering would attract attention, and wasting time was pointless.
Suhyuk worked deliveries as usual to earn living expenses.
5 PM.
Suhyuk parked his scooter across from the police station and entered a café.
Sitting in a corner by the window, he stared blankly at the police station entrance with a cooling coffee in front of him.
After about two hours—
The black SUV he had seen in the morning left the station.
Suhyuk quickly exited the café and mounted his scooter.
Following wasn’t difficult.
He trailed at a distance guided by the compass.
After about twenty minutes, the SUV entered the underground parking lot of an old building on the outskirts of a new district.
A cramped, damp space with only about six parking spots.
Suhyuk took out the Shinigami’s Cloak from the delivery box and put it on.
The moment he wore it, his presence melted into the darkness beneath the low ceiling.
He approached the man stretching after getting out of the parked car.
In his right hand, the summoned Shinigami’s Scythe appeared.
Without hesitation, he brought it down on the man’s right shoulder.
Thud!
“AAAH!”
The narcotics detective screamed in sudden pain.
Another strike came down on his left shoulder.
Thwack!
“Ahh! W-who are you?!”
His screams echoed strangely through the parking lot.
Suhyuk did not stop.
He cut through both of the man’s ankles.
A chilling sensation of severed muscle ran through his hands.
The man’s eyes trembled violently, unable to focus through the pain.
Seeing that helpless fear, Suhyuk’s gaze grew cold.
‘I hate those eyes filled with fear. You don’t even deserve to feel fear.’
In rising rage, he grabbed the man’s wrist and slashed it.
When the man tried to struggle, Suhyuk covered his mouth, forcing him to swallow his screams.
“Stay quiet if you want to live. I’ll kill you before you say anything else.”
“Hyuk…!”
A low, chilling voice echoed in the empty parking lot.
The detective froze, swallowing his breath in terror.
The fear he had once inflicted on others was now returning to its rightful owner.
The detective’s eyes shook uncontrollably.
An invisible presence.
Yet the firm, cold grip on his mouth was undeniably real.
The word “discarded” flashed through his mind.
The Cheolsu faction.
They were trying to erase him because he was no longer needed.
“Yesterday at the XX Club… Chick Gang and Kim Jongchan disappeared… is this related?! Are they cleaning house?!”
Before his thoughts could settle, Suhyuk’s voice cut in like a blade.
“Name.”
At that moment, the detective’s eyes sharpened.
If this was someone sent by the Cheolsu faction, they wouldn’t ask for his name.
‘He’s not from them!’
Realizing this, his fear shifted into arrogance.
“You bastard! Attacking a narcotics detective in Korea—you’re going to prison for life—!”
Slash!
Before he could finish, the scythe severed his other wrist.
“AAAHHH!”
His scream tore through the damp air.
Blood poured onto the ground.
Suhyuk looked down and repeated coldly:
“Name.”
Feeling the cold blade again, the detective finally trembled.
“I-It’s… Ichisang… Ichisang!”
“From now on, answer my questions quickly and accurately. If you want to avoid bleeding out, remember that you don’t have much time.”
