Hiding a House in the Apocalypse-Chapter 149.2: Janggi (2)

As with most research related to the Rifts, no one has definitively explained how Awakened are able to emit pulses similar to those of monsters.

The most widely accepted theory is that Awakened individuals undergo a unique mutation in their frontal lobe due to something called the "Mutation Factor" derived from the Rift.

Exactly what changes varies by person.

Some claim the prefrontal cortex is enlarged compared to that of regular people.

Others say there are spike-like protrusions, or that the brain tissue is a different color entirely.

But unlike lab animals, Awakened are human—so live human dissection to obtain samples is not an option.

Naturally, given how critical this is, many countries have continued researching Awakened in secret.

Still, no tangible results have come of it.

One fact remains: Awakened cannot be mass-produced.

Like a rare ingredient that refuses to be cultivated, the Awakened appear on their own under conditions beyond human understanding.

Then out of nowhere, Heo Jong-chul made a ridiculous claim.

He said there might be Awakened who were created.

A washed-up hunter—not a scientist, not a doctor—dared to make such a statement.

I found Heo Jong-chul in a hospital hallway, being scolded by a man in a white coat.

“Mr. Heo, I explained before—there could be thousands of causes for abdominal pain.

Patients often don’t even know where it hurts.

I don’t know how you came to suspect hepatitis, but not everything can be seen with the naked eye.”

That man turned out to be Kim Daram’s husband.

I remembered him from the wedding—he had the look of a carefree Gangnam gentleman.

Now, he seemed rougher, his eyes sharper.

“I can see it. The liver’s swollen.”

“Do you know how many causes there are for hepatomegaly?”

“I’m telling you, it looks just like that guy who died from hepatitis!”

“Look, Mr. Heo. You still have your textbook, right? Let’s go over this again. Causes of liver enlargement—”

Watching this go in circles, I cleared my throat.

Both men turned to me.

“Oh.”

Heo Jong-chul lit up with relief.

Can’t blame him—anyone would be a welcome distraction in the middle of a lecture from a superior.

Daram’s husband recognized me instantly, but the moment our eyes met, he looked away.

“...We’ll continue this later.”

Birds of a feather, I guess.

Whether it’s her husband or Daram herself, the temperament seems to match.

Back in his groom days, he’d welcomed me with ridiculous courtesy.

Now, as I approached Heo Jong-chul, I could still taste the bitterness of the million-won wedding gift I’d wasted.

“Long time no see.”

He was still rocking that memorable scruffy beard, now with a carefully styled goatee to match.

Our meeting felt dramatic, but in truth, we had a rocky past.

He once tried to kill me, and I swiftly drove him off.

A stupid, short-lived incident.

Maybe that’s why he looked uneasy.

But I didn’t come to dwell on the past—I was genuinely intrigued by what he claimed.

“Can we talk for a bit?”

“Of course.”

We stepped outside, and he handed me two cups of instant coffee.

“Oh wow. They still have these?”

“It’s a hospital, after all.”

“How’s the work?”

“Meh. Could be worse.”

There was plenty to say, but it wasn’t my place to lecture him—and we weren’t close enough for that anyway.

So I went straight to the point.

“I heard you treated someone who claimed to be baptized by John the Baptist.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

Without hesitation, Heo Jong-chul agreed and showed me the patient.

The boy sat alone in a room where the curtain fluttered from the cold air streaming in.

Even though the temperature was supposedly mild, the stench was thick—it reeked of feces the moment we opened the door.

The boy clearly wasn’t being properly cared for, as seen by the dirty urinals scattered around.

“He’s been declared beyond recovery,” Heo Jong-chul said, putting on a mask.

“...What’s wrong with him?”

“His brain’s completely fried. Like a late-stage alcoholic—shriveled like a walnut.”

“He doesn’t look old enough for that.”

He was more of a boy than a young man.

One ear was half gone, a thick scar carved into his eyebrow, and his fingers—several were roughly severed at the knuckles.

You could tell he’d lived a hard life.

And now, what remained of it was heading for total ruin.

“We’ll monitor him for a week, then discharge him.”

“Any family?”

Heo Jong-chul shook his head with a bitter expression.

“Came in empty-handed. He’ll leave the same way.”

“What happened to him?”

We left the room and walked down the empty hallway.

“He said his name was Jin-ho. No last name.

By the time he got here, the brain damage had already started.”

“So he was in better shape at first?”

“Yes.”

One day, this boy—no connections, no background—just showed up at the hospital.

He was writhing in pain, clutching his head.

And he exhibited unmistakable Awakened traits.

“He tested positive with the black litmus paper, and even had the well-known trait—luminescent pupils.

He couldn’t emit a pulse, but he was just short of it.

It’s called ‘knocking,’ right?

The phenomenon where someone with Level 5 potential starts trying to open the gate to pulse emission.”

Heo Jong-chul was certain the boy was Awakened.

Even Kim Daram’s husband, who didn’t like Heo, admitted it.

But that wasn’t the important part.

What mattered was how Jin-ho awakened—he had previously failed the test.

As we talked, Daram’s husband stormed over in frustration, but backed off when I locked eyes with him.

A trivial moment, but it revealed something about Heo Jong-chul:

This guy has nerves of steel.

Even with Daram’s husband bearing down on him, he didn’t flinch.

If Defender and Da-jeong got out of a car wielding bats at some jerk honking at them, this guy would just ignore them and go about his business.

Maybe that’s why he’s able to entertain such insane thoughts without cracking.

“Jin-ho said he had never passed a litmus test before.

Then suddenly... he did. Yeah.”

A sharp glint—not the usual Awakened glow—lit up behind his glasses.

Heo Jong-chul gave a satisfied grin.

“It was John the Baptist.

That man has the ability to turn ordinary people into Awakened.

It’s still unstable, but it works.”

“It’s related to the boy’s condition, isn’t it?”

“Yes.

We don’t know what substance he injected, but it clearly triggers Awakened-like changes in the frontal lobe.

But the side effects are brutal—massive damage to the cerebral cortex, leaving the patient brain-dead, like Jin-ho.”

“...So it’s poison.”

People think differently, and Heo Jong-chul was no exception.

“Well... maybe.”

His eyes gleamed. Not just from light.

“Or maybe... it’s a weapon. One that could shatter this hopeless world.”

I’ve seen men like him before.

Someone like Heo Jong-chul is harmless. He’s a fantasist without any real power.

But if a policymaker ever thought like this?

That would be dangerous.

Someone like Kang Han-min, for example.

His public image is all over the place—savior, hero, clown, underdog—but I see his core as extremism.

He hates the Rift as much as I do.

Some do it for a viral video, or to prove something to a group.

Maybe they never actually meant to die, but it happens.

The Darwin Award was made for people like that, I think.

And those types usually think highly of themselves.

They’re strong, loud, influential.

No one with nothing to offer ever throws a tantrum like that.

But Kang Han-min was different.

He had zero talent for becoming a hunter, yet he fought desperately to stand on equal ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) ground with us.

Jang Ki-young tormented him mercilessly—maybe because he knew Kang Han-min would eventually get someone else killed.

When an incompetent person tries too hard, accidents happen.

But in a way, Kang Han-min did cause an accident.

Hardly anyone knows this.

Probably just me, Kang Han-min, and Na Hye-in.

It was one of those common high-risk missions.

Monsters had taken over a key facility in a rebel-held urban area.

We were ordered by the Chinese government to breach and neutralize it.

The Chinese military, once powerful, had dwindled in both numbers and equipment quality.

Their obsession with drones grew in proportion to their decline—but drones are no magic wand.

Three recon flights failed, so they threw together a makeshift recon team.

I went up front with Kang Han-min, while Na Hye-in coordinated us from the rear as a spotter.

At first, Kang Han-min was overenthusiastic.

“Great, great. I’ve got a good feeling today! Lucky chance!”

I thought he was just trying to impress Na Hye-in—he had a thing for her.

A little bravado isn’t a bad thing on the battlefield.

As long as it’s not too much.

Near the monster base, we spotted three kids—no adults, just children.

I told Han-min to speak to them.

Unlike me, he spoke Chinese fluently—about as well as Kim Daram—and was good with people too.

In her case, it’s probably fake. But Han-min? That warmth seemed real.

After a few polite words I could vaguely understand, he came back.

“Told them to go the other way.

Even if they go back the way we came, the soldiers will kill them anyway.”

In the early war days, civilians in rebel zones were treated as refugees.

Now, they were executed without exception.

Terrorist cultists had hidden among civilians one too many times.

I don’t enjoy watching the helpless get killed.

I nodded and watched the kids leave.

One boy turned back to glance at us.

He was holding a plushie—one from the Chinese mobile game Gong Gyeong-min loved.

“Let’s move inside.

Latest drone scan says it’s a Candybox-type nest.”

“Okay, aniki!”

He started calling me that after we got closer.

It means “big bro” in Japanese.

He even called me that when we were alone or when things weren’t too serious.

I didn’t care much—we weren’t going to be working together long.

I was already promised a better partner back home.

All that mattered was how he handled himself in combat.

Once I gave him confidence, he performed decently.

“I’ll go in first.”

“You?”

“I’m not fast or strong, but I can crawl like a pro.

Even Instructor Jang Ki-young acknowledged that!”

Candybox types—early infiltration monsters—had nests of narrow, wormlike tunnels.

They weren’t strong in close combat, but the layout made them annoying to deal with.

Nobody wanted to crawl into a jelly-filled, tunnel-ridden lair.

But I hoped he’d pull it off.

“Okay, aniki!”

He crawled into one of the honeycomb-like passageways.

I watched our surroundings with my weapon ready and checked in with Na Hye-in.

“Rebels?”

“All clear.”

“Good.

Nest confirmation?”

“Kang Han-min’s inside. He’ll report soon.”

“Confirmed.”

While waiting, I saw something strange.

A plush doll—the exact same one from earlier.

Even the ripped underarm and exposed stuffing were identical.

“......”

Suspicions flared—but I waited.

Soon, Kang Han-min emerged.

“Ugh. That was rough.”

He came out too quickly for a full recon.

This 𝓬ontent is taken from fre𝒆webnove(l).𝐜𝐨𝗺