Chapter 55

“Why did you only come now? I was beginning to think you’d abandoned me in that den of demons and run off in the night.”

“I dropped by not too long ago. You just didn’t see me.”

Life at the Prayer House seemed to have done Velada some good. She looked far better than when we’d last parted.

She wasn’t dressed in rags anymore, and her once-frizzled hair had smoothed out.

The shoes I’d bought her were neatly stored in a corner of the room Margaret had given her.

When I noticed she was keeping them as though they were a precious treasure, she quickly put on a show of irritation to distract me.

“More importantly, what happened after that day? Word has spread all the way here that the Sea of Decay has vanished.”

Ah, so that’s where she wanted to start.

I told Velada what had gone down in the heart of the Sea of Decay—the Special Unit’s assault, Karzos’s summoning attempt, and finally the manifestation of Flauros, Archduke of Flames.

At first, Velada didn’t believe a word of it. But when I showed her the ring I’d received directly from Flauros, her eyes went wide in shock.

Just as I was finishing the part about Flauros attending the next Council session, she asked me anxiously:

“So… you’ve decided to go under her, haven’t you?”

“Hm?”

“Of—of course, it’s true I’ve been of little help to you so far, and I couldn’t even shield you from the attack of the ‘Chair of Silence’ during the Council. But we’re bound by contract! You can’t just pledge yourself to another faction without even discussing it with me!”

“You mean Flauros?”

“Fl–Flauros!? You call the Archduke by name so casually now? Don’t tell me you’ve already formed such a close bond with her?”

“I call you by name too, don’t I? Doesn’t mean I worship Flauros.”

“But still, but stiiill…!!!”

I had no idea what misunderstanding she was clinging to.

To calm her down, I pulled out the Choco Pies I’d prepared.

She drooled the instant she saw the snack that had once been her only meal during harder days.

“Put that away! If you think you can buy this body’s forgiveness with such cheap, mass-produced junk, you’ll need at least another thousand years!”

Prideful as ever, she flatly refused. Even so, I had to admit—still a Familiar of an Archduke, her mental fortitude was something else.

“There are three of them. All different flavors.”

“You’re giving me all of them!?”

…Or maybe not? That was easier than expected.

Banana, strawberry, and “The Unstoppable Flow of Time That Slowly Leads Mortals to Death” flavor—Velada nibbled each one like they were divine relics, cheeks puffed out and the happiest person in the world.

“Fine. I’ll hear you out.”

I explained Flauros’s purpose for coming here.

“Nothing special. She said she’s searching for the Apostle of an Outer God. I’m guessing it’ll come up in the next Council.”

“Pfft! Cough, cough! What!? The Apostle of an Outer God!?”

I handed her some water as she choked, wiping her eyes before waving me close.

In the cramped little room with no eavesdroppers, Velada leaned in until her broken horn nearly bumped me and whispered something in confidence.

“I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t have just thrown me in this backwater because you found me bothersome.”

“I mean, it was because you were bothersome.”

“This body was once revered by countless demons. I realized immediately this sect was off. After hearing your story, it’s clear now—this is the very cult that serves that so-called ‘Outer God.’”

“Well, that’s terrifying.”

What was even more terrifying was that the Apostle of an Outer God might already be here in this room, disguised as one of us.

When I said that aloud, Velada shrieked and scrambled under the bed clutching her shoes.

I dragged her back out and told her she’d be more useful continuing to keep watch here.

At least if she stayed inside the Prayer House, she wouldn’t get randomly captured and exterminated by the Special Unit, who were stepping up patrols day by day to hunt Patel.

We’d shared enough meals and shelter by now that it’d leave a bad taste in my mouth if she got killed the moment I looked away.

“Very well. I’ll remain here and gather information.”

“Good. I’ll count on you.”

“Worry not. Though those tiny believers’ tricks have hindered me, I’ve been culling the aberrations lurking here and regaining strength. Expect results soon.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t roughhouse with the kids too much—play nice.”

I had plenty more questions, so we kept talking for a while longer—about when the next Council would convene, how to enter with an invitation even from afar.

When I mentioned that Karzos’s group was searching for a Philosopher’s Stone, she instantly understood their true intent.

“Resurrection, then. It’s tricky since it requires a death first, but under the right conditions it’s actually more feasible than a standard summoning.”

“Like Flauros?”

“She too once met her death at the hands of the Apostle of an Outer God. If someone had a Philosopher’s Stone, they could have brought her back.”

Seriously, what’s so appetizing about this little patch of dirt that demons are willing to die just to cross over?

Maybe at the next Council I should suggest throwing a snack party—lure them all in and wipe them out at once.

I didn’t have time to linger. Using patrol as an excuse had stretched things far enough.

As I stood to leave, Velada gave me a warning.

“The Philosopher’s Stone itself isn’t hard to make. But it’s dangerous, because of the key material it requires.”

“What material?”

“The blood of a Constellation. Or what’s more commonly called a Star Scar.”

Star Scar.

Even Flauros, an Archduke, hadn’t mentioned such a thing—yet Velada knew about it.

“Some remnants linger in the Archduke’s legacies, but to forge even a small stone strong enough for resurrection, you’d need much, much more.”

“……”

“If you ever find out where such a thing exists, never speak of it. Not just Karzos—every demon would hunt it.”

“And you?”

“I—I am your contractor! I simply don’t pry! Our relationship must be built on trust, after all…”

Come to think of it, I didn’t even know her true name, let alone how she’d lost all her power.

She seemed to know the Chair of the Abyss personally. At some point, I’d need to dig into her past.

I left Velada behind and stepped out of the Prayer House.

Even though the sun was setting, plenty of residents were still outside admiring the mural.

Inside my sleeve, Mala-nim stirred again, so I removed my mask and drifted closer.

While pretending to press my hand to the wall, I let my Outer God gaze upon the mural. That was when I bumped into something solid beside me.

“Do you mind watching where you’re going?”

“Oh my, I’m so sorry!”

The sharp retort slipped out, but what startled me was the reaction—she immediately apologized with genuine politeness, even more flustered than me.

That kind of response only came from outsiders, ordinary civilians unfamiliar with Ground Zero’s grim rules.

I bowed quickly and apologized again. Thankfully, the woman in the wheelchair just smiled and said it was fine.

“My apologies. I can be a bit clumsy.”

“No, it’s alright. But… you’re Special Unit, aren’t you?”

“How did you know?”

“That thing you’re wearing—your smartwatch.”

Ah. So she’d noticed that.

Hopefully she wasn’t the type to file complaints for fun.

I glanced around, then leaned in and lowered my voice.

“Ahem. I’m not just sightseeing. I’m on patrol duty.”

“Patrol duty? Inside Ground Zero? I thought Special Unit only guarded the perimeter. I’ve never seen anyone patrolling inside.”

“Ah, well… this is a classified mission. Commander Ha Yeri herself sent me in.”

“Oh, I see.”

Ground Zero was officially designated a danger zone. The Bureau only locked down the outside; they didn’t bother with inner patrols.

But civilians rarely cared enough to know that detail.

Seeing her accept the explanation so easily, I decided to escort her out. Leaving her alone in Korea’s worst district was practically begging for trouble—by tomorrow, her wheelchair would probably show up in the flea market.

Not that I was being kind out of pure goodwill. My daily report was looking a little too empty.

“If you’re not with anyone, allow me to escort you home.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Were you planning to stay longer?”

“No, it’s late. I was just about to leave.”

Perfect timing.

I gripped the handles of her wheelchair and started toward the barrier wall.

She had a warm, open expression, with brown hair and a bandaged face that left one striking blue eye uncovered.

Rare color for a civilian. Could she be an Awakened?

She wore only a plain outfit that looked like hospital garb, but the fact she had come all this way alone suggested she was tougher than she looked.

I pushed her wheelchair along, steering away from the worst of the rubble, and struck up conversation.

“My name’s Seon. It’s just one syllable, but you can call me Seona if that’s easier.”

“That’s a unique name. What about your surname?”

“My surname’s a secret.”

“I see. I’m Hayan.”

So I wasn’t the only one with a complex about names.

Rather than press the issue, I asked something else.

“It’s dangerous here for non-Awakened. Why did you come?”

“To see the mural.”

“Ah. And what did you think? Does it look well done, artistically?”

That wasn’t my question. It came straight from Mala-nim, nudging me to ask. Apparently, my Outer God wanted objective feedback on her self-portrait.

Seona hesitated, then smiled faintly.

“Mm… I’m not sure. Hehe.”

“I see.”

“People in power made such a fuss, saying it was dangerous to leave it up, but… I don’t really see the need to erase it.”

“…What?”

“Oh, nothing. Anyway, where are you headed? I have business in this neighborhood.”

She handed me her map. The spot marked with an X happened to be right by the Bureau and Special Unit buildings.

Since the path matched, I decided to escort her all the way.

We passed the barrier wall and skipped the bus, heading directly on foot. Sometimes walking along the Han River was faster than dealing with rush hour traffic.

“You’re surprisingly light. The wheelchair barely takes any effort to push.”

“Really? Maybe it’s just expensive. It came from the Red Tower, you know.”

“Mind if I try riding it later?”

“Haha, you’re funny. Sure, I’ll let you ride it sometime.”

Between her polite warmth and my casual cheek, the conversation flowed easily. I even tossed the leftover Choco Pies I’d carried for Velada to some vagrants along the way. Time flew by.

The Bureau’s building soon came into view, lit up bright even at night. Just seeing it gave me a swell of pride.

Inside were tired staff, bleeding out their youth in overtime—but that had nothing to do with me.

“Turn left here.”

“Got it.”

“You’ll need an access card at the front gate. Use this.”

“Oh, I’ve got one. I’ll use mine.”

I wheeled her where she indicated.

On the Bureau’s third floor, a passage connected to the Special Unit’s building.

At the end of the corridor was an elevator leading up to the training grounds, the commanders’ offices, and all the rest.

“Press 14, please.”

“Alright.”

We stopped at the level used by Division 1 and 2 officers. Lights still glowed inside the offices.

So Commander Ha Yeri hadn’t gone home yet. Staying up this late wasn’t good for growth.

Seona pointed toward the office at the end of the hall.

“That door over there. Here’s the keycard.”

“I didn’t realize you lived this close. Guess I’ll be seeing you around.”

“Seems that way. Hehe.”

What a world. To meet someone by chance in Ground Zero, only for them to turn out to be a neighbor in the Bureau.

But then a troubling thought struck me.

How had she even gotten here? Ordinary civilians couldn’t enter the Special Unit building at all.

If she had a card, that meant she had an office.

And since I’d joined, there had been only one door here that never opened.

“Huh?”

“Eh?”

At that exact moment, Ha Yeri stepped into the hall, coffee cup in hand.

She froze at the sight of Seona, then blurted words that should never have been spoken aloud.

“C-Commander-in-Chief…?”

“Yeri~ do you really send patrols inside Ground Zero these days?”