TFN C85

Chapter 85

Wonhyo couldn’t help a small murmur of amazement at how close the detention center was to the city.

Even more surprising was the cluster of apartment complexes nearby — practically next door to the district court and the prosecutor’s office.

Walking beside Cheongmun and following the detectives, he carefully observed the air around them.

In the footage, the malicious energy had only seemed faint, but meeting it in person could be another matter entirely. If it was anything like the vengeful spirits before, he might collapse within minutes.

He suspected that special skills would be restricted inside a facility like this, especially since it housed criminals.

A sudden thought struck him — what if his talismans couldn’t be used either?

Wonhyo took a half-step closer to Cheongmun.

“Um, excuse me.”

“Yes?”

Cheongmun slowed his pace slightly in response.

“In the visitation room… would it be all right if I used a talisman?”

Cheongmun frowned faintly, falling silent for a few seconds before lowering his gaze.

“They’ll probably prohibit any skill or item that could influence an inmate. Mana sensors will be monitoring everything in real time.”

That was a relief, at least. The ones he’d brought were drawn with pure divine energy — not mana — and stored safely in his inventory.

His old fan and bell, too — since he’d use his personal tools instead of Gi-myeong, the registered spiritual items, there shouldn’t be a problem.

While they waited for visitation approval, Wonhyo began gathering his energy quietly.

Animal spirits or human ghosts — either way, reasoning was impossible. And there were many of them. He needed to be ready.

Unlike lesser wandering spirits, animal spirits tended to meld together easily.

The more vengeful and primal they were, the more readily they shed form and clung to hosts.

When the animal spirit and the host’s soul started merging, separation became nearly impossible — if the host hadn’t already been devoured completely.

With his mind centered, Wonhyo opened his eyes and gripped his fan.

“They’re here,” he murmured.

Cheongmun was already looking toward the still-closed door.

“You can feel them already? They haven’t even cleared security.”

“Mhm. Yeah.”

A foul, damp odor hit him like mold growing in the dark.

He wrinkled his nose and pressed his mask tightly over his face before fanning the air with a few sharp flicks, dispelling impurities.

The sticky, suffocating energy crept closer from the corridor, flooding upward from the floor until his skin prickled.

The system window hadn’t reacted yet — meaning it wasn’t quite as bad as the last vengeful spirit incident — but it felt just as intense. If not worse.

『You are exposed to strong “malicious energy.” (…in progress… 17.2%)』

The alert appeared almost instantly.

“Cheonho-sin ji-gyu-sin, o-nae bul-shi-in, o-nae gu-cheon hyun-nyeo, sok-gyeon bul-shi-in…”

Wonhyo recited an incantation of suppression, spreading his divine power outward.

It wouldn’t completely stop the buildup of malevolent energy — he knew that well — but at least it would keep the contamination from reaching others, and maybe buy him a few moments to retreat if needed.

『You are exposed to strong “malicious energy.” (…in progress… 27.8%)』

The numbers spiked violently.

He was suddenly very grateful that today fell under the sign of the sheep — an auspicious alignment.

When he looked up, Cheongmun’s dark eyes glimmered faintly behind the thin rim of his glasses.

Wonhyo wanted to shout “Where can I hide? Tell me before I drop dead on this floor!” — but all that came out was a breathless murmur as he pushed to his feet.

“Special Investigations, Team Leader Lee Cheongmun,” said Cheongmun calmly, gripping Wonhyo’s arm to steady him. “Activating pre-authorized skill use under exceptional violation clause.”

“…Confirmed,” replied the guard after a brief pause.

The moment approval was given, Cheongmun snapped his fingers.

A cube of light burst open, enveloping Wonhyo completely.

The blaring alarms in his system halted instantly. Wonhyo blinked slowly, mouth falling open mid-chant.

“Oh?”

The sound escaped him before he could stop it, and he pressed his lips together quickly.

He stared at the cube — its air shimmering with anti-demonic force — and then lowered his gaze to the hand still grasping his arm.

He’d assumed Cheongmun would drag him out to a safer place, but clearly, that wasn’t necessary.

He’d said earlier that skills couldn’t be used — so… this was unexpected.

And now his face felt like it was burning.

Awkwardly, he sank back into his chair. For some reason, he felt the urge to shrink smaller, to disappear from everyone’s view.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Just… caught off guard by how strong it was,” he muttered, trying to steady his breath.

He had to admit — the cube was fast, safe, and reliable.

They’d used it during exorcisms before; if it could handle a vengeful ghost, there was no reason to doubt it here.

Still, he couldn’t shake an odd sense of — well, not disappointment exactly, but something that brushed close.

Maybe he was just remembering too vividly the dreams that had left him rattled.

“Shall we bring them in?” asked Detective Choi cautiously after the brief commotion died down.

“Yes!” Wonhyo answered with the most enthusiastic nod he’d given all day.

The suspect, dressed in a detention uniform, was dragged in, thrashing violently.

Two guards tried to force him into a chair, but it wasn’t easy.

Wonhyo pulled out a talisman — the Beast’s Peace Talisman — one he’d found buried in an old ritual text.

It was traditionally used when a household pet began behaving strangely, a sign that misfortune had entered the home.

Normally, it would be hung above a doorway, but since the animal spirits had made this man’s body their house, his forehead would have to do.

He whispered the invocation that called on the heavenly spirits to drive out impurity:

“Cheon-won ji-bang, il-wol hong-gwang, ha-sin gang-gyeon, ha-gwi gam-dang… shin-byeong-hwa-geup-geup-yeo-yul-ryeong.”

The man tried to escape, but he wasn’t stronger than an awakened individual — just unnaturally energized.

Wonhyo flicked his wrist, sending the talisman flying through the air. The parchment glowed faintly before sticking to the man’s forehead with a crisp slap.

A guard flinched, assuming he’d activated a skill, but a quick check confirmed otherwise.

Moments ago, the man had been snarling and twisting in madness — now his body went limp, head drooping forward.

“Holy hell…” one of the guards whispered.

The sudden shift stunned everyone in the room.

Wonhyo gazed at the subdued man.

Dark, writhing masses coiled inside his neck and abdomen — not fully formed, but clumped together, tangled like a web of knotted thread.

“Eight… no, thirteen,” Wonhyo murmured. “Mostly dogs and cats. The strongest one’s a pig.”

Despite its intensity, the pig spirit’s form was the smallest of them all.

Turning toward Cheongmun and the detectives, Wonhyo asked evenly, “What do you want me to do?”

“W-what?”

Detective Choi blinked, momentarily speechless.

Wonhyo scratched his neck. “You asked me to confirm whether it was an animal spirit. I’ve confirmed that. If you want me to keep him from acting up, I can give you a few more of those.”

He gestured to the talisman on the suspect’s forehead.

“But if you want me to remove the spirits altogether… that’s going to take a bit more effort.”

“…Can you do that?”

Wonhyo wrinkled his nose as if the question were absurd. “I came prepared, didn’t I?”

He wasn’t sure if it was even allowed to perform an exorcism on a detainee — but otherwise, there was no real issue.

The detectives exchanged uneasy looks with the guards.

After a moment of hesitation, one of the guards picked up his radio.

“We’ll confirm with the warden. This doesn’t involve mana-based skills or items, correct?”

“That’s right,” said Wonhyo.

They’d check the mana sensors anyway, so there was no point lying.

“Understood.”

While the officers busied themselves with calls, Wonhyo studied the suspect again.

The man’s body hung slack, motionless despite the awkward restraint of his prison uniform.

His skin was pale — bluish, even — with a shadowy hue darkening his throat and chest.

A low, rattling sound came from deep within his lungs, but no growling now.

Wonhyo focused on the largest cluster of spirits.

They were writhing in his abdomen — but the most potent one was lower, nestled behind the navel near the spine.

Just sensing it made his hand hesitate. Touching it would be dangerous.

Animal spirits were born most easily from violent, cruel deaths — starvation, freezing, untreated wounds… or sheer brutality.

All nine suspects bore those kinds of spirits inside them, hosts to hundreds of furious, shrieking grudges.

No wonder they’d gone insane.

Wonhyo could only hope the preparations he’d made would be enough.