Fear.
Terror.
An emotion once familiar to me was showing itself in the words of the Happy Ending Sect’s twin believer.
I cannot feel it now, but because I know what it feels like, the shocking realization sinks me down as if my mood is endlessly cooling...
They said they were afraid of Name-nim.
So they’re doing this just to keep the wiki writers appeased?
The Happy Ending Sect as a whole?
[Oh my, but simply pandering is the sort of thing only a third-rate would do! A true entertainer must have a vision of their own.]
But that only makes it feel more desperate.
The desperation of forcing yourself to do something you don’t want to do.
And the more horrible the thing, the more so.
Struggling to escape the malice of an uncertain, malicious godlike being pressing down upon you.
So... whose fault is this supposed to be?
If this whole setting ended up like this because the wiki writers wrote it that way—no, but by that logic, even the creators of ghost stories just wrote stories.
Who in the world thinks the ghost stories they wrote actually exist?
How should I accept this situation and act?
Splish, splash.
Even now, the sound of human bodies falling into the alcoholic liquid doesn’t stop.
The newcomers to the Happy Ending Sect, tainted by ghost stories, lining up to leap into the alcohol.
A mad scene.
“Now, let’s make the liquor!”
The one playing the role of the older twin sister had, at some point, tucked away her desperate look and was once again cheerfully shouting.
“What fun shall we have with this liquor? You’re looking forward to it, aren’t you? Right?”
My breath caught in my throat—
“No.”
...!
“Wow. A cult being a cult.”
I turned my head.
Deputy Eunhaje was there, wearing a bored expression.
Deputy-nim?
“Brainwashing the laypeople to milk them to the bone while they say something completely different to themselves—that’s the very definition of a cult.”
Deputy Eunhaje took a step forward.
“And the sight of someone entrusting their decision-making criteria to someone else, too.”
...
“Roe Deer. There’s no grave without an excuse.”
The journalist who had succeeded in revenge looked at the cult believers who had revealed fear.
“You could say you feel sympathy for them, thinking they’re victims brainwashed by a cult over there.”
Deputy Eunhaje pointed.
To this underground bunker, where dozens had died so far, and even now people were dying in the back.
“But you mustn’t forget the situation.”
I realized it.
Deputy Eunhaje didn’t know the implied meaning in the twins’ words, the detail I had noticed.
They didn’t know about the Happy Ending Sect’s relationship with Name-nim, or the wiki.
But because they weren’t buried in the details, they could point out something even more clearly.
The essence.
“They’re killing people right now just because it suits them.”
And I knew people who, even in similar circumstances, would never make such a choice.
...
My head cleared a little.
But...
Was it really necessary to provoke them so blatantly...?
I looked back at the twins.
The smiling head turned toward Deputy Eunhaje in the guise of an old woman.
Creak.
“You’re not a grandma, are you?”
...
Damn it.
“I knew it, but I’ll let you taste the liquor first! Let’s get to know Name-nim and see the Happy Ending together.”
“Now that it’s all out, you’re still sticking to it. Ah, Roe Deer. No need for that.”
I immediately stepped between the twins and Eunhaje, but Deputy Eunhaje shook their head.
“We’ve bought all the time we need.”
Crack, crack.
The sound of something splitting.
And then—
Bang!
From a white body made not of thick pottery, but of cheap plastic, came a loud pop as water spilled out.
The liquor-brewing jar had been broken.
...!
The humans and parasites inside tumbled out together, some spilling onto the floor.
As the remaining people hurled themselves into the air, I hastily caught them with mist, sweeping them roughly downward, while at the same time confirming that Deputy Eunhaje was unharmed.
Eunhaje quickly signaled to me, as if intending to use the chaos to escape, but—
“Wow. That burst nicely.”
Ho Yuwon stepped out.
In his hand was an empty medicine vial.
Explosion, Grade D.
...A Baekilmong Inc. potion.
The executive of Baekilmong Co. smiled faintly.
“Leaving suspicious individuals in an important place, even if it’s for the sake of fun... that’s some very regrettable judgment. Isn’t that why things like this happen? Seoyu-ssi, Seobin-ssi.”
The twin executives stared blankly at the scene.
The half-shattered liquor jar, and the one afflicted with the Nine-Tailed Fox plague.
“Ah, don’t misunderstand. I didn’t do it—it was this grandma here... I just happened to pick up this empty bottle.”
“Ha.”
“In any case... judging by your actions, it seems you’re feeling fear toward the unknown... Well then—”
Joy appeared in Ho Yuwon’s eyes as he looked at the twins.
The joy of one who has figured something out.
“Your identity... is still human, isn’t it?”
The conditions for a geumje were met.
The plague approached.
“Could you make me one promise?”
And the twins, who had been dazed, suddenly—
Smiled brightly.
“You know what? Why don’t we just make this whole space into a liquor jar?”
“That sounds good.”
What?
“You gather the newcomers. I’ll tell Name-nim about the dragon and the fox here! Let’s soak the dragon and the fox in liquor too.”
“Sure.”
[They’ve chosen a frontal assault. Oh, now there will be a pandemonium of blood and terror...]
[If there are any newcomers who escape, a truly entertaining ghost story could be passed down! Liquor, a cult, and a fox plague!]
Ho Yuwon, intending to bind the executives with a geumje and turn them into puppets to extract information, and the executives of the Happy Ending Sect, intending to soak us in liquor.
The problem was that I was caught in between.
Ho Yuwon had, in effect, naturally pulled me into his quarrel.
“Then I’ll start with the dragon!”
I Seoyu’s head fell.
Rolling across the liquor-soaked floor in a long red trail, a strange red fabric-like space flickered into projection around it...
Damn it.
And the fallout from this madness could hit anyone.
Even Deputy Eunhaje.
No.
If so—
...In the end, I snatched up the rolling head first.
“Whoa, whoa? Whoa, whoa?”
As the head smiled brightly and tried to swallow me—
I covered it with smoke first.
And read...
I Seoyu
Real name is Lee Unseon. One of the Happy Ending Sect’s 5th-rank 권능 (Authority) holders and a participant in the Death Performance.
As a holder of this 권능, they compulsively reconstruct their name and personality to present an appearance suited to the Happy Ending Sect, and fear the stillness that undermines that foundation.
A person who fled from ████████. Entered the Infinite Praise Church through the teachings of the Garden Praise Church, but in those teachings felt both glory and fear, and embraced the scriptures of the Happy Ending Sect.
Their corrupted relic has a total of one barrel, and the only function it can use is the manipulation of the body that ████████████████.
Hold it in.
If it’s not about erasing, but enough to put a burden on the other person.
Hold it in.
Endure it.
You’ve done it to Ho Yuwon too.
Hold it in.
Endure.
But you know...
What was enduring again? What did it mean to have to endure, what does it feel like to even have that question, what was a feeling, and why am I... doing this, I have to go back to the isolation roo—
“What is this, what is, oh, familiar, uh, what the ■■■■■■■■■.”
The voice fades, leaving only a final utterance like a death cry.
“Name-nim?”
......
I released the strangulation.
The head rolled across the floor.
The body of I Seoyu, separated from its head, collapsed over there, and my brain, too, felt crushed. The dull, hard mind could no longer function...
[Well now. Let’s give that head a little shake, Mr. Roe Deer.]
Head?
......
The sound of a bell.
Bell, sound.
Restores me.
Jingle.
I took a deep breath and came back to my senses.
Thanks.
[Don’t mention it, friend!]
Next to me, Ho Yuwon clapped his hands.
“Wow. That was really fast!”
......
I ignored Ho Yuwon and looked at the Deputy.
“Let’s go.”
Yes, sir.
I’ve already located the exit.
We just need to head straight there.
“Right now.”
Deputy Eunhaje, already standing near the exit, moved quickly.
We slipped out behind the coffin.
Kicking away the strong liquor that had started to spill into the cavern, we pushed through to the far end.
At some point, I could hear Ho Yuwon’s footsteps falling into step beside mine. That much I’d expected, but...
“They’re following.”
The twin brother.
The one who had been standing blinking in place, as if unable to grasp the situation, left his sister behind and was walking toward us.
Ripples spread across the surface of the liquid pooled in the cavern.
......
Let’s subdue him.
This won’t do.
I’ve already used it once—just one more time.
And if I file a report with the Disaster Management Bureau...
The inductees’ side will be cleaned up too. In many ways, the Bureau will gain an informational advantage as well. With that decision made, I turned my body.
Of course, that side won’t be easy either.
I think he was from one of those serial killer urban legends.
...It sounded like ragged breathing was coming from somewhere.
The twin brother had already almost reached the center of the cavern.
He was passing by a black box used for disposing of bodies, and with his step, a corpse drowned in liquor drifted over and bumped into the box.
At that moment—
Thud.
The liquor-soaked box opened by itself.
A number was written on the top.
三
......
Wait a second.
[Oh, is something unusual happening, Mr. Roe Deer?]
“How far are you goi— huh?”
The moment the man playing the role of the twin brother stepped in front of the box and turned back—
He vanished.
Like it was a lie.
“......”
And then—
三
二
From the open space of the black box, hands emerged out of the pitch-black void where nothing could be seen.
The palms were laid on the ground, facing upward.
......
Ah.
Escape.
I grabbed Deputy Eunhaje and started running toward the exit.
“Noru!?”
I know what that box is.
That’s not...
It’s not from the Happy Ending Sect.
It’s something much older than that.
Back when the early horror stories of the Nameless Brilliant Church were first being catalogued on the wiki, there was a particular horror story that used to rise to the top, backed by an overwhelming number of recommendations.
The horror story of the Capacity Worshippers.
The Practitioner Inside the Box
No.
Countless early believers of the Nameless Brilliant Church sought to contemplate the true meaning of this world, and among them, a few devout ones chose to do so through long and grueling meditation and asceticism.
To suppress their own madness, they sealed themselves inside large temple bells, without drugs or hallucinogens, attempting to maintain clarity of mind solely through the intense pain caused by the bell’s tolling.
Years passed like that.
Out of dozens of such bells, only one contained a believer who survived—
and that person eventually declared that they had come to understand several of the Name’s intentions.
And those intentions were as follows—
I ran.
Heading toward the exit I had found.
The Name desires pain.
The brief comfort, peace, and joy granted to the constructs of this world are nothing but arrangements to prepare them for a greater shock and fear.
Even this realization itself is madness and pain, and thus could not be a more accurate answer.
But the pursuit of knowledge does not stop. Those believers who followed this revelation sealed themselves into various implements in search of their own understanding, and soon came to understand through pain.
The Name places greater meaning not in a simple, statistical mass of pain summarized by numbers and tables, but in each individual’s special and unique pain.
The more heartrending, prolonged, and detailed it is, the better.
Thus they resolved to praise the Name’s will by exhibiting their long and drawn-out pain.
That is—
The Capacity Worshippers.
They believe that, rather than a story with a great many casualties, it is the detailed record of a few select characters feeling prolonged and extreme pain within the depths of terror that will truly please the Name.
They worship the capacity.
A horror story with a set cast size—the optimal number of people to turn pain into narrative.
A horror story that inflicts unbearable suffering upon its characters.
Especially that one—no, that being—
The Practitioner Inside the Box
A power of the Nameless Brilliant Church that appears in Darkness Exploration Records.
Ranked as a 6th-class member of the Capacity Worshippers Order.
According to the law of the Capacity Worshippers, they cut off their own legs and, after repeated asceticism and meditation inside the box, awakened their power—becoming a creature inside the box that secretes digestive fluids.
They are Capacity Worshippers who focus on the most fundamental pain.
After swallowing the number of sacrifices assigned to the box, once the box closes, it will never open until the sacrifices are dead.
The sacrifices who touch the digestive fluid inside the box become connected to the Capacity Worshipper and become Ascetics.
The Ascetic, trapped in the box, undergoes a long and slow process of being digested alive until they disappear, while the Capacity Worshipper recites the pain they feel in refined language inside their minds.
The longer, more grueling, and more detailed the process, the more correct it is doctrinally.
An Ascetic cannot die until they are completely digested and gone.
Average digestion period: 27 years.
At the end of the exhibition, it enters a rest period in which it consumes a large amount of cloth.
And when the rest period ends—
When a new sacrifice enters the box, the Practitioner finishes their meditation.
The Practitioner Inside the Box will extend their hands to recruit the exact capacity, then exhibit their pain.
These hands cannot be refused.
So do not approach them.
Your asceticism will begin.
“......”
We stopped in our tracks.
At some point—
There was a box next to the bunker’s exit.
The Capacity Worshipper, extending both hands outward in a gesture of supplication.
二
Announcing the capacity.
‘......’
Request: A way to move from here without going through the exit.
“If it’s a tool for immediate escape in the dark, I know a few... but I don’t have one now.”
Damn it.
Then in the end, there’s only one way.
Request: Fall.
I released the smoke.
...It was fortunate that I wasn’t feeling intense fear. Without the dread that I might lose my sanity, I could act immediately.
‘I have to.’
Throw the Capacity Worshipper into as much confusion as possible, and open the exit—
Knock, knock.
......
“Excuse me?”
A sound from the door.
A voice that felt somehow familiar.
And then—
“Oh, here it is.”
Bang.
The door opened from the outside.
As the air from the surface, instead of alcohol fumes, flooded into the passageway, the figure standing beyond it revealed themselves.
“Ah. Finally found you, staff-nim!”
...Deputy Lee Seonghae?
‘How the hell did they find this place?’
“Nice to see you. And there are some people here who’ve been dying to meet you, staff-nim....”
Deputy Lee Seonghae stepped aside.
...And I realized the presence of those standing behind them.
“Here they are, agents!”
Disaster Management Bureau agents.
Hyeonmu Team 1.