chapter 39
Wee-woo… Wee-woo…!
Countless ambulances and police cars rushed into the area near the building I was in.
Police officers stormed into a building and dragged out unconscious people, while paramedics loaded those in critical condition into the ambulances.
As my puppet silently observed the scene, a man appeared behind it and spoke.
“We’ve arrested over thirty researchers and about eighty criminals subdued by you, Artist… and rescued nearly two hundred civilians who had been declared missing.”
“… Good work.”
“No, sir. It’s you who did the hard work.”
The man standing behind me was Ji Hyung-man, leader of the Ironblood Guild.
Once, he was a fugitive falsely accused of being a serial killer, chased down when I was returning home from the amusement park.
It was I who both cleared his name and saved the hostages he’d been forced to flee with.
Since then, he had regarded me as a benefactor, gathered others in similar circumstances, and founded the guild known as Ironblood.
They soon became famous for hunting down criminals.
“By the way, have things been okay lately? Since I’ve got a bounty on my head, I figured your guild might have suffered some backlash from being associated with me.”
“Haha, of course not. Those are just rumors at best. At least, no one dares openly antagonize us.”
“Well, true…”
Though small in numbers for a guild, Ironblood’s members were all individuals so capable that crime syndicates had once gone so far as to take hostages in order to control them.
Only an idiot would want to make enemies of such people.
“There are always a few cowards scheming in the shadows, but… they’ve all ended up getting torn apart instead.”
“…”
Even if not by choice, Ironblood members had once worked under criminal organizations. That gave them an intimate understanding of how criminals operated.
So spotting covert schemes was child’s play for them.
“Well, enough catching up. About the work at hand… the civilians rescued today will be placed under Ironblood’s protection.”
“That’s for the best.”
From ransacking the Doctor’s lab near the coast and diving into his memories, I’d pieced together the full extent of his atrocities—everything he had done in pursuit of his goal: the annihilation of the Black Fog.
At the top of his list was his personal project—fusing monster genes with those of humans.
But that wasn’t all. He had subordinates carrying out other delegated experiments.
“To graft monster DNA into humans…”
He hadn’t just taken children’s genes and inserted them into monsters. He’d also done the reverse—forcing monster genes into those children.
This very facility, the one I had attacked and left Ironblood and the police to clean up afterward, was dedicated to injecting monster DNA into children.
“Didn’t something like this happen in the past?”
“Yes. Even the history books mention such attempts.”
The difference being—those experiments had failed then. But this time, the Doctor succeeded.
Which was why so many of the rescued civilians had grotesquely mutated bodies.
The only silver lining was that their consciousness still leaned more toward human than monster.
“… And you’re saying there are brokers overseas who specialize in these mutated children?”
“According to the information I extracted… yes.”
The Doctor had been selling these children, altered with monster genes, to wealthy buyers at home and abroad.
Some clients even went as far as commissioning kidnappings of children to have specific monster traits implanted into them. Others sought him out to have monster genes grafted into their own bodies, lusting after that power.
“This list of buyers… if it gets out, the scandal will be massive.”
“I doubt it. Even if revealed, it’ll be covered up immediately.”
People in high places are hypersensitive to anything that threatens their own interests.
Rather than risk the fallout, they’ll bury the truth—then fatten themselves by dealing with those on the list.
As much as I hated it, hiding the list itself was the more effective move.
“In that sense, it’s smarter to chase the criminals who supplied the Doctor with children and monsters, rather than stir up the elites.”
“… Frustrating.”
Ji Hyung-man grimaced at my words.
He understood the reasoning but clearly didn’t like it.
“Don’t worry. The greedy elites will collapse on their own eventually.”
Take, for example, those who cast aside their most capable subordinates over trivial greed—never realizing that their own success relied entirely on those very people.
By the time they realize it, their loyal lieutenants will already be dead, and their children will rise to drag their former masters down in revenge.
That’s how it goes.
“Ah, but I’m not saying we shouldn’t rescue the children who’ve already been trafficked.”
“What? But—”
I handed him a few masks.
“… These are…”
“Look, I’m already branded a criminal anyway, aren’t I?”
Might as well use that to our advantage.
“If someone believed to be Artist—or linked to him—raids the mansion of a wealthy buyer… things could get very interesting.”
“… Are you sure? Your infamy will only grow.”
“It’s fine. The victims’ families wouldn’t even be able to openly admit they were attacked. And if it’s discovered that Ironblood acted on its own instead of me? Same outcome.”
Yes, I had a bounty on my head as a criminal.
But at the same time, I was also infamous as a hero who targeted only monsters and villains.
The same went for Ironblood. Brutal, yes—but they only ever struck at criminals.
So if word spread that we’d raided a wealthy family’s home?
People wouldn’t condemn us. They’d ask why.
And the traffickers would be forced to cover it up.
“If someone has sinned in secret, perhaps they’d escape notice. But if there’s undeniable proof of a heinous crime like child trafficking… not even the highest elites can avoid prison.”
Use that. Rescue the victims.
“… Understood.”
With a grim nod, Ji Hyung-man departed.
And so, the campaign sparked by Lee Ha-eun’s abduction came to a close.
Strictly speaking, remnants still remained—but I had entrusted those to Ironblood.
“There’s only one thing left for me to focus on now.”
I studied a small device I’d salvaged from the lab.
******
After slaying the doppelgänger, I had scoured the Doctor’s memories for answers.
Why did he name his masterpiece Doppelgänger?
Because it copied others.
What happened to the kidnapped test subjects?
They were sent to other labs to receive monster DNA.
Where did he get the funding to maintain his labs and buy samples from syndicates?
By selling those modified humans.
Piece by piece, I had pried loose the answers I wanted.
All except one.
When I entered the lab, I had fooled every sensor.
So why was my intrusion detected?
According to the Doctor’s memories, this device—the one now in my hands—was what had sensed me.
But even he didn’t know how it worked, or what exactly it detected.
He hadn’t made it himself. It had been given to him by some stranger.
“So someone else was backing him…”
The Doctor hadn’t been an Awakened, so he couldn’t possibly understand.
But I did.
Or rather, only I could.
Not because of some past-life knowledge.
Simply because…
“I perceive the same world this device perceives.”
This machine sees the essence of what it points to—then transmits a signal based on that.
By essence, I mean not just magic or aura, not just invisible waves like electromagnetism, but…
[Samādhi is the power to perceive essence.]
[Not merely energy like mana or aura, not merely unseen waves like electromagnetism.]
[But soul, thought, concept…]
[Things of that nature can be observed.]
The Samādhi I employ in my True Fire of Samādhi allows me to glimpse those very things.
Thus, this device was a sensor capable of detecting souls, thoughts, concepts—intangibles themselves.
“Which means… no wonder I couldn’t evade it.”
I can hide my color.
I can hide my weight.
I can hide my presence.
I can hide my heat.
Even my inner energy.
But my soul, my thoughts, my very essence? Impossible.
Which implied something else.
“There exists someone even more versed in souls, thoughts, and concepts than I am.”
Of course, that’s plausible.
I only learned to sense such things through Samādhi, by contemplating myself. I’m a martial artist, not a scholar who’s studied them deeply from the start.
But for someone to embed that ability into a machine? That was… impressive.
“The most likely candidate would be an occultist—like a shaman.”
But why would such a person support a biotechnologist like the Doctor?
Did they, too, need monsters fused with humans—or humans injected with monster genes?
Or…
“Was it the organization behind such an occultist that coveted the Doctor’s talents?”
If so, things could get troublesome.
They might pursue the Artist who killed him, or attack the Ironblood Guild connected to me.
“… Still, it should be quiet for now.”
I pushed the thought aside and looked at Lee Ha-eun.
“Uuugh…”
Having discovered that Artist was in truth my puppet, she had naturally joined me and Yeon Mirae in training.
Well, “joined” was generous—she’d basically invited herself along.
Of course, my martial arts training and Mirae’s differ from Ha-eun’s magical studies.
So I decided to teach her some support magic I knew.
“Ah! I did it! Sanctuary!”
“…”
“…”
Ha-eun, a genius in support magic, had just mastered Sanctuary—one of the highest-level healing spells.
At only nine years old.
“Ugh… I feel dizzy…”
Her mana drained almost instantly, leaving her staggering.
But even that was impressive for her age.
Watching her clutch her head, Yeon Mirae muttered softly:
“… The world really isn’t fair.”
I glanced at Mirae—who, before I’d realized it, had already achieved the manifestation of Sword Aura—and silently thought:
“You’re one to talk.”
