He pushed open the door connecting the subway cars, stepping forward. With a rattling scrape, the sound of the door opening made the monkeys, who had been in the midst of dismembering humans, snap their heads around.
[Ooh-ki?!]
[Ooh-ki! Ooh-ki-kik!]
At the sudden appearance of an unharmed human, the monkeys shrieked, their cries echoing their confusion. Yet, their faces quickly contorted into fierce snarls. Brandishing the bladed weapons they clutched, they charged at Ian. Unperturbed, Ian simply continued his slow, deliberate walk forward.
A sudden, pungent aroma filled the air.
In that very instant, a strong, cloying perfume scent wafted from his entire being.
It was a cheap perfume, its artificiality far outweighing any hint of natural fragrance. Even for monkeys, renowned for their keen sense of smell, it was merely a scent potent enough to make them wrinkle their noses in mild discomfort.
Yet, every single monkey that inhaled the scent collapsed instantly, crumpling to the ground. Ian nodded in satisfaction, then methodically plunged his knife into the backs of the now-motionless creatures.
The magic’s efficacy was undeniable. With such a potent tool, safely confronting the anomaly seemed an achievable feat.
“I should recreate all the dead bodies and collect them.”
Even though they were anomalies responsible for human deaths, to a mage, they were nothing more than valuable components. It was always prudent to gather them whenever the opportunity arose.
A guttural crunch echoed.
Ian compressed the lifeless monkey corpses into small, compact cubes and stowed them in his bag. Repeating this gruesome process in the subsequent cars, his bag soon became entirely full. Thankfully, no blood had pooled, alleviating any concern about contamination.
The problem was… the bodies filling the subway cars.
“What a gruesome massacre.”
They had been filleted like sashimi (TL Note: A Korean term, ‘hoe chigi,’ referring to the act of thinly slicing raw fish, often while still alive, used here to imply extreme cruelty).
As if to embody the very definition of the term, the monkeys had slaughtered the subway passengers with an almost unfathomable cruelty. The cars nearest the driver’s cabin were particularly grisly, littered with an even greater number of corpses, some areas entirely awash in pools of blood.
With every step, a squelching sound accompanied the gruesome sensation of treading through pools of blood. Fragments of human organs clung grotesquely to the windows, while unseeing corpses, eyes still wide open, slumped in their seats in bizarre, contorted postures, steadily dripping crimson onto the floor.
‘There’s no way this can be swept under the rug.’
This was no ordinary incident.
Ian knew with chilling certainty that this monstrous phenomenon was no mere nightmare or a tale from a horror story. This was reality, and that meant every person who had perished here was genuinely, irrevocably dead. Scores of individuals had met a gruesome end, left to bleed out in this very subway car.
The Management Bureau would undoubtedly intervene. While he was morbidly curious how they would manage to conceal such an atrocity, their immediate reaction held far greater significance.
The car where Ian had been seated was the very last one, the tail car. Unlike the other compartments where more than half the occupants had perished, this one had seen only two casualties. The Management Bureau would unquestionably seek to uncover the reason behind this discrepancy.
Though he had adopted the disguise of a cleric to avoid any unnecessary entanglement, he remained uncertain if such a ruse would prove sufficient.
It was even questionable whether any witnesses remained who could vouch for his disguised identity. While a few individuals still clung to life, their vacant expressions, as if their souls had departed, left him with no certainty that they possessed any consciousness.
A handful of survivors had momentarily roused themselves after he dispatched the monkeys that were dismembering them. Yet, the moment the creatures vanished, these survivors slumped back into a catatonic state, like robots suddenly powered down. They clung to life, but that was the extent of their existence.
Approaching them to speak was futile; no response would be forthcoming regardless.
For the time being, as he moved through the cars, he continued to murmur phrases about God and the Lord. However, he harbored no certainty that these incantations would prove genuinely helpful.
Still, he reasoned, it was surely better than doing nothing at all.
A sharp *thwack*.
Pulling the knife from the monkey’s back, Ian wiped a smear of blood from his face.
The subway’s foremost car, directly connected to the driver’s cabin, now lay before him. Lost in thought, he had traversed the length of the train, arriving at the very front.
As expected, the driver’s cabin remained hermetically sealed. It resisted all attempts to force it open; even kicking it or hurling monkey corpses against it proved utterly ineffectual.
However, the magic of Recreation proved effective. The moment Ian’s hand made contact with the door, he confirmed his ability to freely manipulate its form. Without hesitation, he crumpled the metal, reshaping it into a massive spike.
Though his head throbbed with a dull ache, likely from the repeated exertion of Recreation magic, it was far from unbearable.
[Ooh-kik?]
Stepping into the driver’s cabin, the massive spike in hand, he found the monkey at the controls turning its head. Before the creature could react, Ian swiftly used the spike to pin its leg securely to the chair.
With a sickening *thud*, blood erupted from its impaled leg.
[Ooh-keeeeek?!?!]
The monkey’s face contorted, wholly consumed by agony. It thrashed desperately, attempting to dislodge the impaling spike, but with each struggle, the pain intensified mercilessly. Its body rendered immobile, it couldn’t even launch itself at Ian.
The tables had turned. The monstrous anomaly that had hunted humans now found its life held hostage by the mage. The instant this realization dawned, the monkey began to tremble violently. Ian gazed at it dispassionately, then placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it.
“Hoo…”
As the acrid smoke permeated his lungs, the dull throbbing in his head seemed to recede, offering a measure of relief. After finishing the cigarette, Ian extinguished it by grinding the lit end into the monkey’s head, which was just beginning to succumb to sleep.
[Ooh-kik!]
The monkey thrashed its arms wildly, a desperate display of agony.
This was merely the death throes of creatures that had filleted humans alive. He felt no particular pang of guilt.
Ian pressed his heavily damaged knife against the monkey’s neck, his finger simultaneously indicating a spot on the subway map.
“Just drive to that point for now. Don’t stop.”
[O-Ooh-kik?]
The monkey tilted its head, its confusion evident as it momentarily failed to grasp his command.
Instead of reiterating his command, Ian merely pushed the knife deeper, then summoned his grimoire, his eyes shifting with a cold intensity. At that chilling gaze, the monkey shrieked in terror and frantically seized the steering wheel.
A piercing *screech*!!
Immediately thereafter, the subway plunged through a swirling red mist. The anomalous phenomenon that had encroached upon reality dissipated, leaving only the monkey, still gripping the steering wheel, in its wake.
“Haa…”
Ian settled into the seat beside the monkey, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery through the subway’ window.
A short while later, the subway neared its destination. The monkey, a servile grin plastered on its face, began to slowly decelerate the train.
Thankfully, there was no collision with another subway. Though a frantic radio message from the station demanded an immediate halt, the monkey paid it no mind, instead faithfully adhering to the mage’s silent command.
In recompense, Ian plunged his knife deep into its chest.
A sharp *snap*.
The instant he attempted to withdraw it, the heavily damaged kitchen knife snapped cleanly in two.
Regrettably, it seemed the knife had reached the end of its utility. He sighed with a hint of disappointment, then, after recreating the driver-monkey as well, stooped to retrieve the fractured blade.
[The doors on the left will open for exit.]
A few seconds before arriving at the station.
After confirming the automatic brakes were functioning correctly, Ian moved to the farthest end of the subway car, procured a suitable hat and mask, and donned them.
“It is God’s will.”
He did not forget to maintain his disguise. He made the sign of the cross before the hat’s original owner, then compressed the padded jacket he had been wearing, stuffing it into his bag.
This was an attempt to alter his appearance from when he had first boarded the subway. While he couldn’t be certain it would render him unidentifiable, it would at least offer a minimal level of obfuscation.
Ian quickly assessed his altered appearance, then positioned himself before the exit doors, awaiting the subway’s full stop.
Less than ten seconds later, the train glided to a halt in the station. The door’s sensors registered Ian and the waiting passengers on the opposite platform, and the doors slowly parted. Without a flicker of hesitation, Ian stepped out and descended the stairs.
“Huh, wait? Hey, what the hell?!”
“Kyaaaah! W-What is all this?!”
From behind him, the newly boarded citizens shrieked.
Ian deftly vaulted over the turnstile railing, his awareness of the CCTV’s range and placement guiding his steps into every available blind spot. Thanks to the pandemonium erupting above, no one noticed his swift departure.
Given that this was a massacre born from an anomalous phenomenon, while it would undoubtedly make headlines, the true nature of the incident would remain concealed. They would likely fabricate countless reasons, striving to portray it as an ordinary, explicable event.
They would also, assuredly, manipulate the memories of any witnesses or individuals caught in the aftermath.
Unsurprisingly, entanglement in such an affair promised no beneficial outcome.
While his exit from the subway might have been captured on camera, that alone would prove insufficient for identification. He had already changed his clothes and obscured his face.
Of course, the Management Bureau possessed specialized methods for locating individuals. However, such measures were beyond Ian’s current ability to resist. Thus, his only recourse was to hope for their incompetence.
‘Still, to be absolutely safe, I should change my clothes entirely.’
With that thought, Ian entered a department store near the station, selected a suitable outfit, and purchased it.
Though an unforeseen expense, he felt no great regret. It was, after all, nearing the time for him to acquire new clothes anyway.
‘Time to go, I suppose.’
The anomalous phenomenon was concluded, and his appearance thoroughly altered. He had done everything within his power. All that remained was to adapt flexibly to whatever events unfolded with the passage of time.
Ian nodded in satisfaction, then, confirming the workshop’s address, set off.
Fortunately, the workshop was not located far from the station, rendering the use of public transportation unnecessary.
Ian donned the earphones from his pocket and steadily followed the route displayed on his phone’s map.
Before long, he arrived at a modest villa.
He passed through the main gate, which appeared unlocked, and rapped on the door of room 305.
“Yes.”
Simultaneously, a clear, distinctly feminine voice responded from beyond the door.
‘Wait, it’s a woman?’
He had, of course, anticipated an elderly mage, rich in experience. Yet, the voice, entirely different from his expectation, momentarily flustered him.
With a sudden *whoosh*.
The door swung open, revealing a short-haired student in a school uniform standing within.
Her sharp eyes scrutinized Ian from head to toe before she cautiously spoke.
“Newbie?”
“Ah, yes. Are you, perhaps, Serious Magic Addict…?”
At Ian’s query, she offered a faint, enigmatic smile.
“Welcome. Come in.”
