LTTH C28

Chapter 28

Yes. The survivors.

The Dark Zone did not merely blacken the earth with darkness. Everything it touched transformed into a substance harmful to humans. Only monsters could roam freely within its bounds.

Among them were some who endured and survived as long as they could, but even they became bodies poisoned, requiring continual treatment with antidotes. Those who could not survive… became the very soil of that land.

At first, complaints arose: “Why do you not try to save the people trapped within the Dark Zone?” Yet it was not that they did not try—it was simply impossible to save them.

The <100,574 Incident>.

This term refers generally to the tragedy caused by but ten survivors who escaped from the Dark Zone.

During the Great Catastrophe, some nations delayed in their initial response, allowing a handful of survivors to flee. At first, the matter seemed insignificant, no cause for concern. But such thoughts were soon overturned.

A mere week. Only a single week passed before the area inhabited by the infected survivors became shrouded in darkness, mirroring the Dark Zone itself.

The number 100,574 denoted the death toll caused by this event. That momentary lapse had claimed the lives of over a hundred thousand souls. Yet ironically, this very tragedy laid the groundwork for protocols on managing the Dark Zone. Though belated, it was a start.

First, regularly supply antidotes to those living within the Dark Zone.

Second, monitor those within the Dark Zone meticulously to prevent their escape.

These newly established rules spread worldwide, stabilizing the situation rapidly, except in countries that had failed early responses.

The problem lay where manpower was scarce: such surveillance was imperfect, and territories continued to be lost—even now. Among these, the United States, James’s homeland, was an exception.

“Darling. Can you cleanse the Dark Zone in America?”

Some twenty-five years had passed since the Great Catastrophe. Through it all, the Dark Zones had stubbornly persisted. And now, to be asked to destroy one.

“Is that… even possible?”

“No. If it’s you, it is possible.”

What confidence was this? James exuded an unhidden certainty. Yet the power to wield such skill lay with Hansol. Why, then, did the third party radiate such unwavering faith?

“Purification. That skill—yes, it is possible.”

<Purification>.

Hansol had twice used Purification: once at a newly opened gate before the association, again at Berthel’s second laboratory. Both times, polluted land was cleansed. Still, there was no guarantee this contaminated earth was identical to the world’s eight Dark Zones. Should the skill prove ineffective there, disappointment would be heavy. Moreover, this was no matter for Hansol and James alone.

Originally, there were eight Dark Zones in the world, with even more that formed later. Should the Purification skill truly remove the darkness, restoring these lands to their natural state—lands left abandoned for twenty-five years—it would be a marvel indeed.

What would happen when other nations learned of this? The answer was clear without deep thought. The current upheaval was already chaotic. If Hansol truly cleansed the American Dark Zone, he might spend the rest of his days a fugitive.

“Darling, I know this is a difficult matter. But if you consent, I will vigorously aid you to keep this affair secret.”

James pried the Tower Lord’s hand from his collar, wearing a somewhat resolute expression. Given he was ranked number one in the world, his words carried weight. Surely, America would do all it could to handle the matter discreetly.

“Hansol-nim, if you prefer not to go, you need not. No one can force you.”

The Tower Lord sighed, brushing dust from his rumpled clothes. His expression bore the resigned look of one who believed, “You will go anyway, even if I ask.”

‘How could he know…?’

With those extraordinary eyes still fixed so earnestly upon him… Hansol was helpless, again.

“As the mage says, it is only a request. The choice is yours alone. Of course, I will not be resentful if you refuse. I am not that much of a parasite.”

Utterly botched. Parasite was ‘bandengi’, and not ‘golbaengi’—and not simply a parasite, but a type of shellfish. Where had this man learned Korean, truly?

“It’s true.”

James gave a wry smile before adding a teasing remark. Yet that was just a flaw in the speech; surely it could not be anything but important to him.

Compared to other nations, the American Dark Zone held far more survivors. Their early detection and effective response had greatly influenced this.

Unlike ordinary gate breaks, the Dark Zone had no symptoms prior to its onset, yet once an anomaly was found, the American association barred all escape attempts. Moreover, with the discovery of infected individuals, research promptly began, resulting in rapid development of an antidote. Hence the greater number of survivors.

Perhaps it was for these reasons—question of resource acquisition, cost, and ongoing care—that the matter persisted for years. As the number of survivors rose, so too did the needed antidotes. Yet none could allow even a single healthy person to be abandoned, for many eyes watched closely. The urgency to obliterate the Dark Zone must have been greatest.

‘Or else…’

Perhaps someone connected to James was trapped within the Dark Zone. Even the world’s top hunter could not rescue the infected. Any such endeavor would earn the ire not only of America but hunters worldwide.

Only two examples immediately came to mind; many other concerns remained. Conversely, solving the Dark Zone would mean resolving all such troubles.

What should he do? The choice was clear. Even if failing to cleanse the Dark Zone bore no loss to Hansol, the true victims were those trapped within.

They would hope—mighty hopes. For cure. For return to normal life. Would betraying such hope be right?

‘Such affluent worries.’

Hansol chuckled dryly. A thought once impossible. Where once he had trembled, shunned, and scorned, uncertain whether he would even enter a gate, now he pondered these burdensome questions.

Hansol’s fortune changed beginning with his deployment to Britain, under pretext of dimensional travel. Come to think of it… there too was a youth drenched in hope and expectation.

“I do not wish to die. I want to live. On this battlefield.”

‘That youth. Has his arm recovered?’

After treatment to his elbow and being taken to the duke, the sanctuary must have ended. What became of him now?

Could the healing already bestowed have vanished? A grim thought suddenly rose. The quest window glimpsed in Britain did not reappear once back in Korea. If it were but a phantom…

“…I will go.”

Hoping at least the young man was alive, Hansol answered quietly.

“Hansol-nim.”

“Honestly, I have no confidence. But if I can help, I must.”

“I understand your heart, Hansol-nim. I do. Yet…”

The Tower Lord clasped his head, exhaled deeply, heading a shake of his head. Though he understood Hansol’s feelings, he would not withdraw his words.

“…Darling. If my request is too difficult to deny, you may reconsider once more.”

“That is true… but…”

Because the requester was James, the man ranked first in the world. If debts were made here, favors might be returned in time.

Yet Hansol wished to test. How far could his Purification skill reach? Could it truly cleanse a Dark Zone? Could more lives be saved? Even that poor youth for whom he could not bear full responsibility.

“The world will stir once more. No matter how America attempts to conceal it, the truth will come out—your power is the cause.”

The Tower Lord sighed, eyes clouded by sadness. For once, Hansol hoped this prophecy would come to pass.

Hansol did not seek fame. He only wished to erase the Dark Zones troubling the world. Nothing more.