Chapter 50
First, he needed time to think.
“Remain where you are for a moment.”
“Understood.”
The iron mask knelt politely.
While watching the man’s movements, Woojin rapidly assessed the situation in his head.
‘What should I ask?’
His primary interest was information. Through questions and answers, he would extract what he needed for the present moment.
He had to choose his words carefully. If he asked too directly, it would arouse suspicion. If he asked too much, it would seem strange.
In truth, he didn’t need many questions at all.
‘If I extract his inner core, I’ll inherit his memories intact.’
But that method had a minor flaw.
‘I’d need to sleep to sift through the memories… and that would take time.’
He had fought multiple battles tonight and even unleashed lightning. Fatigue had accumulated. If he fell asleep now, he likely wouldn’t wake until noon tomorrow.
And information lost value by the hour.
Several dark-side priests had infiltrated the frontier city. If they all went missing and contact was severed, the organization would surely respond. Any information he gained could quickly become outdated.
‘I need something I can use immediately.’
Having decided, he asked:
“Did you bring additional forces?”
“No. The five of us are all. It was an intelligence mission—we did not bring many.”
So there were no reinforcements.
Woojin felt a flicker of disappointment.
‘No more inner cores, then.’
If there had been others, he would have hunted them down before they could flee. But the five were all that had been deployed to this city.
Four were already dead.
Only the iron mask remained.
He would have to temper expectations for tonight’s harvest.
He continued.
“What information did you obtain during this mission?”
“…Forgive me for saying so, but I have not yet received the information.”
As he said that, the iron mask gestured toward the witch lying face-down on the dirt.
“That Selkie should have it.”
“Ah… I see.”
Now that he thought about it, the iron mask and the witch had never had the chance to properly exchange information. Right after she returned to the rendezvous point, Woojin had been discovered tailing them, and the fight had begun immediately.
But—
‘Selkie? Is that her name?’
The word nagged at him, but he couldn’t waste questions on trivialities. There were more pressing matters.
“Where is your next rendezvous point? You’ve carried out your mission well, but the information must be delivered up the chain for this to conclude.”
“There is no designated rendezvous.”
“None? Why?”
At the follow-up, the iron mask answered without hesitation.
“A recall order has recently been issued. After completing their assignments, Gatekeepers are to return to the sanctuary. We will report orally upon return… Have you not heard?”
He added the last part cautiously.
From his tone, he seemed to have grown slightly suspicious mid-explanation. The recall order was likely something most dark-side priests already knew.
Woojin answered without overthinking. He had gathered nearly everything he needed.
“I haven’t. I take no interest in such matters.”
“…Indeed. There would be no need for someone of your standing to concern yourself with the affairs of underlings like us.”
The iron mask murmured, seemingly convincing himself.
Woojin’s detached attitude only reinforced the illusion.
‘He’s not very bright.’
Perhaps he could be used as an information source. The iron mask appeared to hold a relatively high position. Unlike Enoch, he did not seem bound by some curse that turned him into a monster upon divulging secrets.
Woojin scratched his chin, considering what to do—
Then another question arose.
“You—what’s your relationship with Bow? Your fighting style resembles his.”
“I once took him as my master.”
That answer caught Woojin off guard.
‘…What? Bow’s disciple?’
He had long sensed similarities in technique and ability—but hadn’t expected this.
Then why was such a man here?
“How did you become a Gatekeeper?”
The iron mask answered without hesitation.
“I realized there was no value in remaining under that hypocrite. There was nothing left to learn. As proof—I took both his eyes.”
So it had been him.
Woojin tilted his head slightly.
The statement felt wrong.
The Bow he knew was far from a hypocrite—and certainly not someone who would lose both eyes to someone like this.
Still, one thing became clear.
‘He can’t be used as an informant.’
If even someone as composed as Bow had failed to control him—if he could betray his own master—then he was too treacherous to keep alive.
‘You don’t fix people. You discard them.’
Having reached that conclusion, Woojin began walking forward.
His steps were leisurely, almost like a stroll.
The distance between them narrowed.
The iron mask remained kneeling stubbornly.
Woojin stepped behind him—and swung the edge of his hand down at the crown of his head.
Paak!
The iron mask lunged forward.
The strike had narrowly missed.
His reaction speed was extraordinary—like having eyes in the back of his head. With vision akin to Mind’s Eye, he had sensed the ambush.
The iron mask sprang up and clenched his fists.
Woojin spoke calmly.
“Do you dare take that attitude with your superior?”
“You just tried to kill me!!”
The iron mask shouted, his body wreathed in crimson aura.
In response, Woojin clenched his fists as well.
Fwoosh—
A dark blue energy shimmered around his hands.
The iron mask’s demeanor shifted instantly.
His extraordinary sight detected something within that technique.
“…You’ve learned Bow’s art.”
The trace of the man he had long hated.
Red light flared in the iron mask’s eyes.
Grit!
He clenched his teeth—not merely grinding them. It sounded as though he had crushed something hidden between them. A pill, perhaps.
Without warning, he lunged.
Woojin observed every movement carefully.
The opponent clenched his right fist. When it flies in, grab the wrist and break it—
Paak!
Instead, a kick aimed at his shin came first.
Woojin instinctively twisted his knee, receiving the blow on the thick bone of his lower leg.
Immediately, he threw a left punch in counterattack.
But the iron mask had already tilted his head back.
The punch came within a hair’s breadth—yet did not land.
Perhaps pleased with the exchange, the iron mask spoke with a faint laugh.
“This is the true power of Mind’s Eye.”
“…Yes. I know.”
The sensation was familiar—like fighting while reading the answer sheet.
Just like sparring with Bow.
The iron mask had achieved a similar level through some shortcut.
But the side effects were obvious.
Dark veins bulged across the back of his hands. The unknown pill, combined with power beyond his limits, was exacting a price.
‘If I leave him alone, he’ll die anyway.’
His condition was unstable—death could come at any moment.
Yet from the way he spoke, from the manic edge in his tone, he seemed unaware of his own deterioration.
Like someone intoxicated by a drug.
But the power he had gained in exchange was genuine.
That piqued Woojin’s curiosity. There was one thing he wanted to confirm through those eyes.
“Look at me.”
He leaned his head slightly forward, as if inviting a closer inspection.
The iron mask frowned.
“…What do you mean?”
“Exactly that. Don’t you see anything?”
“Ridiculous!”
The iron mask lunged again.
His two fists seemed to split and multiply—two becoming four, four becoming eight. Of course, they hadn’t truly multiplied. It was a technique that produced multiple afterimages with physical force, striking in overlapping succession.
Woojin busily evaded and deflected the blows—then suddenly snapped his right foot against the ground.
Smaack!!
A crisp sound rang out as his low kick lashed into the man’s thigh.
“Ghk!”
The iron mask staggered back, swallowing a cry. The layered afterimages dissipated like a mirage.
Woojin tilted his head slightly.
“Why didn’t you dodge? With Mind’s Eye, you should’ve seen that coming.”
“…Shut up!!”
The iron mask roared and charged again.
Thud, thud, THOOM!
Each step he took gouged the earth. His footsteps were heavy with malice, and that weight translated directly into his fists.
Since the flurry of blows hadn’t worked, he seemed intent on deciding the match with sheer force.
It was not a good choice.
Thup!
Woojin’s scaled hand caught the incoming fist effortlessly.
Startled, the iron mask tried to yank his arm free—but it would not budge.
Once seized like this, Mind’s Eye meant nothing.
With his free left hand, Woojin hammered the man’s torso repeatedly. Scream after scream burst out. He controlled his strength carefully—he had no intention of killing him yet.
“Guh—”
White foam spilled from beneath the mask.
Subdued.
Satisfied, Woojin tore off the iron mask.
‘…He looks surprisingly ordinary.’
A middle-aged man. His complexion was poor from the drug coursing through his system. A tattoo, carved like a knife mark, marked his forehead—an eye-shaped symbol. Aside from that, he was unremarkable.
Woojin grabbed him by the collar and lifted him.
“Do you see anything?”
He asked again.
The iron mask shouted hoarsely:
“What are you telling me to look at?!”
“My inner world. If your Mind’s Eye is real… you should be able to see it. Prove it.”
Perhaps from hearing it repeated, stubborn pride flared within the iron mask.
Fine. I’ll look.
He poured the last of his focus into his eyes and stared at the man before him—
…Pitch black.
‘What?’
Confused, he looked around.
Nothing but darkness. As if submerged in black ink.
While scanning the void—
He noticed a small creature.
A green insect, no larger than a finger.
“…A mantis?”
A tiny praying mantis.
It looked emaciated, as though it had starved for a long time. It moved its head nervously, as if frightened.
Frightened of what?
He soon found out.
Crunch!
A mouse appeared out of nowhere and bit into the mantis.
The mantis flailed its scythe-like forelegs, but when the mouse tightened its jaws, the insect’s body snapped in half.
The mouse vanished.
Another mantis appeared.
Identical to the first.
It ran frantically. A mouse appeared again and gave chase. It was far faster.
Crunch.
Devoured again.
Then another mantis.
And again. And again.
It became tedious.
How long was this to continue?
Just as that thought arose—
Shwaaak!
The mantis flared its wings wide.
It raised its head stiffly, scythe-forelegs lifted.
The mouse hesitated.
It had underestimated this tiny insect… but the resistance was fiercer than expected.
…Better find other prey.
The mouse slowly backed away.
But behind it—
A new presence.
Sensing it, the mouse looked up.
A cat.
The cat bit down on the mouse’s head.
Screeech!!
A dying squeal.
The mouse’s body went limp.
The mantis had feared the mouse—but the mouse too was only prey.
The cat departed calmly.
Left behind was half a mouse carcass.
Hungry, the mantis crept forward and began tearing at the meat.
Its body grew slightly larger.
‘The more it hunts, the stronger it becomes.’
The moment that rule became clear, the mantis’s fear began to transform into craving.
To gain strength, it needed more prey.
It accumulated experience through countless deaths. There was no need to fear failure.
It could always start again.
The iron mask felt a chill.
‘…When did it get this big?’
A massive mantis was now devouring a bear.
That once-small, helpless insect had risen to become a dominant predator of the forest.
After finishing its meal, it meticulously scraped bits of meat from its scythe-legs.
But it was still hungry.
It needed more.
The mantis turned its head—
And looked at him.
The iron mask stumbled backward.
‘…No. It can’t be.’
Impossible.
But his body was already lifted into the air.
The mantis had seized him with one foreleg—like retrieving a long-saved snack.
Its jaws opened wide.
Rows of teeth awaited him.
“Gaaaaah—!!”
Suddenly, the iron mask screamed aloud.
Woojin flinched and stepped back.
‘What the—?’
Why was he screaming?
He was about to ask—
But there was no chance.
The iron mask’s head lolled sideways.
His breathing had stopped.
Dead.
‘The drugs finished him.’
Ever since he swallowed that stimulant, his condition had deteriorated. The substance had eaten away at him. His breathing had grown progressively weaker.
It was no surprise that it ended like this.
He hadn’t gotten his answer.
But Woojin felt no regret.
‘It would’ve just been a hallucination from a drug addict anyway.’
Probably.