Chapter 67

Gulp.

Du-seo swallowed hard.

He spoke in a flat voice.

“Let’s close up first and talk.”

There were no customers besides Beomjin. Du-seo locked the front door, then went back to the counter and switched off the POS terminal.

When the red light blinked out, the entire room seemed to hold its breath.

He opened the door leading to the kitchen. Beyond the smell of oil and frying, he pushed aside a metal shelf and pressed against the wall. A heavy thud echoed beneath their feet.

A silver iron door appeared. When he placed his thumb on the scanner, a cheerful beep followed.

“Follow me.”

Du-seo lowered his gaze briefly as he walked.

Normally, he wouldn’t show anyone what was beyond that door. But this time—something about the man’s face, his tone—made him feel like maybe, just this once, he could trust him.

A dark passageway led down a flight of stairs. At the end was a hidden storage room. When Du-seo flicked on the light, the darkness retreated.

“Haven’t felt my heart race like this in a long time.”

His low voice trembled with anticipation.

“Yeah. Let’s do it. Just imagining their faces when they lose their precious treasure—it’s enough to make me grin. There’s no thrill better than that.”

As light filled the room, a dazzling array of tools came into view.

Ropes, gloves, precision drills, silenced pistols—an entire wall lined with the instruments of a professional thief.

At the far end stood a bookshelf crammed with maps and papers, and opposite it, several large whiteboards stacked together.

From a metal tube in the corner, Du-seo pulled out a rolled-up sheet of paper. He spread it open on the central table and pinned it down.

An aged blueprint emerged, its faded lines crossing like scars. In tiny letters, rooms were labeled Ceremonial Hall, Training Wing, Sanctuary, Leadership Office.

“Here. The Chamber of Revelation.”

He tapped the innermost section with his finger.

“It’s the holiest place in the Myungshim Sect. The Mirror of Clear Reflection is in there.”

Beomjin narrowed his eyes.

In the center of the map, inside a rectangular grid, the words Chamber of Revelation were marked. Around it, layers of offices and restricted zones formed concentric barriers.

“Where did you get this?”

Du-seo’s answer came as Beomjin’s voice trailed off.

“I once thought about stealing the Mirror of Clear Reflection. To be exact… I thought about it more than once.”

Beomjin turned toward him. Du-seo’s gaze was distant, fixed somewhere in the past.

“And?”

Beomjin asked carefully.

“Do you know what that mirror really is? It’s not some shiny ornament you hang on a wall and admire.”

“Then what?”

He had wanted to ask that since Gu-sim’s request. Du-seo smirked.

“The moment you touch the Mirror of Clear Reflection, the most regretful memory of your life unfolds before your eyes. Every sound, every scent, every emotion—so real it’s like living through it all over again.”

Beomjin understood instantly how terrifying that would be.

“…That’s not something I’d ever want to relive.”

Du-seo let out a crooked laugh.

“That’s why the Myungshim Sect draws so many followers. To them, it’s a relic that delivers divine revelation.”

“So you tried to steal it and failed?”

Du-seo shook his head firmly.

“No. I never even tried. Everyone who went after the Mirror inside the Myungshim headquarters—none of them came back alive.”

“So you didn’t attempt it. Then what changed your mind?”

By his own words, this job sounded doomed from the start.

Du-seo turned his head, his voice steady but confident.

“Because if the Tiger helps, I think it’s possible.”

He smiled, then pointed again at the map as he began to explain further.

“The Myungshim headquarters used to be a church. This is the original architectural blueprint.”

Beomjin nodded silently. The old building’s brickwork layout matched what Du-seo described.

“The kitchen was on the first floor, dining hall on the third. Ridiculous design. So they used a dumbwaiter—one of those narrow vertical shafts where you load trays and send them up and down. You’ve seen those, right?”

“I’ve seen a few.”

Beomjin replied quietly.

“But since the Myungshim Sect moved in, they changed the layout. Now the kitchen and dining hall are together on the second floor. The dumbwaiter isn’t used anymore.”

Du-seo’s fingertip traced the paper as he spoke.

“But the internal framework stayed the same, so we’ll use that shaft to get into the third floor.”

“We get to the third floor…and then to the Mirror of Clear Reflection?”

Du-seo’s finger tapped the elevator shaft on the blueprint.

“That’s another reason to use the dumbwaiter. The shaft leads straight to the Chamber of Revelation.”

He went on.

“If we use the shaft we avoid internal patrols, and reaching the mirror won’t be that hard. The downside is—if we’re discovered, there’s no escape route.”

It sounded feasible. At the same time, a new question formed in Beomjin’s mind.

“Then why hasn’t anyone tried this route? Or did someone try the shaft and still fail?”

Du-seo grinned with triumphant relish.

“Because everyone thought the dumbwaiter was long gone. Not even the Myungshim people knew. This map was practically a gift from heaven.”

He chuckled modestly, but the laugh felt heavy with meaning.

“Still, we must never underestimate them. The Myungshim headquarters is guarded by Sect-selected Beast-Blooded rotating shifts. You have to treat this place like extraterritorial ground. If you die in there, no one outside will find your body.”

It was a frightening thing to say, but Du-seo’s grin only grew wider. His eyes already glittered with the thrill.

Outskirts of Eunpyeong, Seoul.

The sky was dark with about twenty minutes left until 5 a.m.

The Myungshim Sect headquarters stood alone, its lights burning in the silence. The old building—once a church—had been reborn as the Myungshim Sect Headquarters.

An iron gate protected the front, and a large white sign read Myungshim Chamber of Revelation.

“It’s bigger than I thought.”

Du-seo nodded.

“Before you build a cult’s influence, you always make the building grand. It makes followers think they’re part of something important.”

Beomjin scanned the area. A small parking lot sat beside the building and a floodlight tower marked the entrance. Nearby CCTV cameras were not lax.

Du-seo produced thin wire tools.

“We’ll go in after 5:30. That’s when the dawn prayer ends—people are tired and their guard drops. The Chamber of Revelation is the innermost room on the third floor. The dumbwaiter shaft is accessed from the first-floor storeroom. Bags?”

Beomjin tapped the suspender pocket on his trousers.

“I’ve packed it.”

“Remember. Never touch the Mirror of Clear Reflection with bare hands. If you do, you’ll be thrown into your most regretted memory and lose your head—you’ll get caught.”

“Don’t worry.”

At Beomjin’s confident reply, Du-seo breathed deep.

“Let’s go.”

Their shadows moved slowly toward the Myungshim headquarters. The dark lost power like a soft whisper drawing near.

In the gray-tinged night air, prayers echoed from inside the Eunpyeong building.

Beomjin and Du-seo pressed into the scrub under the outer wall, becoming part of the foliage.

With ten minutes to infiltration, they sprayed motherwort over themselves. The scent spread quickly, then vanished. After that, in case they needed to change appearance, they swallowed a Pill of a Hundred Faces.

“Ha… I never thought I’d actually take this.”

Du-seo laughed in a low voice as he smoothed his face.

Everything ready, they moved to the chosen entry point: an office adjacent to the storeroom, the quickest window to get inside.

“That window. If we go through there, we’ll be one wall away from the storeroom.”

The window was old but sturdy. The added iron bars were rusted, and a security lock had been bolted onto the handle.

Du-seo swallowed, clicked his fingers, and produced a set of small tools from his waist bag: a locksmith’s precision driver, a wire hook, and a thin shard of metal.

With practiced hands he worked the lock. Fingers moved deftly, and a short silence settled between them.

Click.

The lock released.

Du-seo carefully lifted the window frame.

“Hold it… slowly, now.”

A hymn echoed through the air. The dawn prayer was nearing its end. The window creaked open, loud but masked by the voices of song.

Du-seo climbed in first. From inside, he pushed the window wider, and Beomjin followed. Their shadows melted into the dark.

Crouched low, the two slipped silently into the room. What should’ve been a food storeroom was packed with instruments instead.

It seemed the Myungshim Sect had converted it into a storage room for their worship band. Guitars, violins, cellos, and even a small chime set lined the walls in neat rows. Cables, amps, and microphone stands tangled across the floor.

“Great. One wrong step and we’ll set off a symphony,” Du-seo muttered.

Beomjin moved with careful precision, stepping only where the floor looked clear. Even brushing against a single string felt like it would ring out through the silence.

The building was quiet. The prayer had ended, and the first hint of dawn was bleeding into the night outside.

Then… a click.

The door opened.

Both men froze mid-motion, like cats caught mid-prowl.

The lights inside were still off, but a sliver of light from the hallway outlined a figure stepping in.

A yawn followed.

“Ah, I’m beat. Nearly fell asleep at the end there.”

The voice carried pure exhaustion.

“Better clean this up quick and crash.”

Judging from the tone, it was a young man. The sound of his hand fumbling along the wall came next—

Click.

The fluorescent light flicked on. And standing right in front of him—was Beomjin.

!!!

The man’s heart nearly burst from his chest. He tried to scream, but Beomjin’s hand clamped over his mouth before a sound escaped.

“Mmph—!”

His eyes went wide as fists, but then… thud! Beomjin’s punch sank deep into his gut. The man’s breath left him in a strangled gasp as he crumpled.

“As fast as ever,” Du-seo murmured, impressed.

He tied the man’s mouth, wrists, and ankles, then dragged him behind a stack of instruments where the body would stay hidden in shadow.

Catching their breath, the two eased the storeroom door open. Voices drifted faintly from down the hall, then faded away.

“Go. Quick!”

After confirming the coast was clear, Du-seo sprinted forward. Beomjin followed close behind, both moving toward the main storage area.

They broke the padlock on the warehouse door and slipped inside without hesitation. By the time anyone found it, they’d be long gone.

Unused cushions, curtains, tissue boxes, uniforms made by the sect, and piles of sealed envelopes filled the space.

And at the far wall—something protruded slightly from the surface.

“You see it?”

The elevator shaft. The one that led straight to the third floor.

So far, everything had gone perfectly.

Please, don’t let us get caught.

With that silent prayer, Beomjin and Du-seo pushed deeper into the warehouse, toward the hidden passage.