Revenant Resonance Ch 4

Chapter 4

 

[Drink drink drink ■■■■■ drink drink ■ drink drink drink ■■■ I want to drink ■■ drink drink ■ I’m thirsty for alcohol ■■■■■■ let’s draw blood and pour the drink ■ just a sip……]

Though the ominous letters that appeared above the drunken Guimae’s* body were similar to earlier ones, there was no need to read them to understand what they meant. It was a subject from Room 303.

‘Alcoholic!’

Of all things, it had to be the Guimae he least wanted to run into. Yu Jiha hurriedly turned around and fled. Park Junyeol, who had also been at the same end-of-term party, turned pale and bolted.

Ignoring the bewildered knight beside him, the Guimae gave chase.

「Gimmeeee my boozeaaaahhh¡ it’s mine aaaaarrrgh¡」

Like the spirit of a Russian who drowned in a vat of vodka, the alcoholic Guimae charged forward, trampling over other Guimae in the way. Yu Jiha’s breath caught in his throat, and his lungs felt as though they were being torn apart.

‘I was crazy to drink today! Buddha! God! Allah! Confucius! If you let me escape from this, I swear I’ll never drink again!’

As he ran with all his might, something caught on Yu Jiha’s foot.

“Huh?”

Before he even realized what was happening, his body was already tumbling across the floor. Pain shot through his bones as he crashed down while running at full speed. At the same time, Park Junyeol’s voice rang out.

“Sorry. One of us has to survive, right?”

Through his dazed vision, Yu Jiha saw Park Junyeol’s back as he turned without hesitation and ran away. So that meant… he tripped him on purpose.

「MYYAAALCOHOOOL¡」

There was no time to even process the shock. Gritting his teeth at the Guimae’s scream coming from behind, Yu Jiha pushed himself up. His ankle throbbed with pain—he must have twisted it when he fell. Limping, he tried to run a few steps, but he couldn’t manage the same speed as before, and the Guimae’s presence drew ever closer.

He hadn’t meant to cry, but his vision kept blurring. Wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, he scanned his surroundings. It wasn’t time to cry or give up yet. If running away wasn’t an option, he had to hide.

Staggering around a corner, a new patient room came into view.

Room 404.

Any logical question like “Why is there a Room 404 on the third floor?” had long since become meaningless. Yu Jiha frantically grabbed the doorknob. It wasn’t locked. He threw open the door and rushed inside.

Before the door could even slam shut behind him, a heavy thud resounded on the other side as the Guimae stepped up.

「Wherreeddidmyboozegooo¿ I smelled it here.」

The Guimae’s voice came from just beyond the thin door. Yu Jiha pressed both hands over his mouth, terrified even the sound of his pounding heart and heavy breathing might be heard outside.

The banging continued—on the wall, on the door, pounding the ceiling and floor—but the Guimae didn’t manage to find him behind it.

「Weird. Maybe someone took it to Room 500.」

Only after the Guimae’s presence faded for quite some time did Yu Jiha finally let out the breath he’d been holding. His neglected ankle began throbbing anew. At last, he had the energy to look around.

Room 404 was pitch-black, without even a hint of light. Not even the hallway lights seeped in, as if it were a space completely cut off from the rest of the world. Bathed in darkness, Yu Jiha clenched his teeth, barely daring to breathe.

Room 404 was supposed to be unoccupied.

It was clearly marked as such in the protocol manual, and unlike the other rooms he’d passed, even the lights here were off.

So why—

Clink.

Why did he hear the sound of chains right next to him?

A shadow like an eternal inferno surged toward him, wildly flickering as if to consume him whole.

The appearance and manifestation of a guai always comes with contamination levels. Thus, across a massive panel spanning the entire Korean Peninsula—including North Korea, which is constitutionally considered part of South Korean territory—contamination levels were constantly being updated. Guai didn’t care if it was day or night. Monitoring and tracking dangerous guai by measuring contamination levels 24/7 was one of the primary responsibilities of the Bureau of Monster Offering Management’s Intelligence Analysis Center.

Even at this late hour, the staff at the Measurement Center were hard at work analyzing guai events. The night shift chief was particularly focused on a newly affected location: Palsang Psychiatric Hospital.

“Still can’t get a route open to Palsang Psychiatric Hospital?”

“There was a traffic accident on the bridge, so we’re taking a detour.”

“Click. Of all times…….”

The chief stared at the status panel. First sighted 22 years ago, Palsang Psychiatric Hospital was a guai zone with such strong wave signals that it made analyzing its victims relatively easy. One of the eight individuals involved was already confirmed to be in a safe location—likely a medical professional.

‘The problem is the sixth floor.’

Palsang Psychiatric Hospital generally allowed high survival rates if you played along and tiptoed through it. However, this widely circulated belief was slightly misleading. More accurately, survival was likely only before you found the cabinet.

The cabinet in the sixth-floor nurses’ changing room could, at most, fit two people if they really squeezed in, and more people had been injured by fellow humans trying to claim it than by the Guimae themselves. Still, the manual stated clearly: “Get in the cabinet.” It was the one place that provided safety from Guimae.

In any case, it was best to infiltrate and rescue before things got worse. Once the Investigation Division agents entered, extraction wouldn’t be difficult. And so, the staff carried on with their routine. But that calm did not last.

A staff member analyzing the guai zone cried out in urgency.

“Unusual wave pattern suddenly detected at Palsang Psychiatric Hospital! It’s not a newly manifested Guimae—we’re comparing it to the Bureau’s database!”

“What? You’re telling me some external Guimae just crawled into the hospital while victims are still inside? Who the hell is it?”

“This pattern… um……”

Moments later, after checking the analysis records, the employee turned pale and shouted.

“I-It’s the Blind Eater!”

The bustling Measurement Center fell into stunned silence. The chief, now deadly serious, issued swift orders.

“……That’s Team 5 out in the field, right? Tell them not to enter. Stand by. And request reinforcements from the Executive Division right now.”

[Otherworld Record]

Name: Blind Eater

Classification: Guimae-ㅂ-M.Mc-0097

First Sighted: November 3, 200X

Location of First Sighting: Near Jongmyo.

Also reported near the ruins of Gyeongdeokgung Palace, per intelligence from a defector from North Korea—cross-verification needed.

Danger Level: Lethal

Containment Level: Cannot be contained

Verification Code: Wat■■■■■■■■■er

Response: Not capable of speech. No communication possible.

Notes:

Though its true form resembles a giant mouth, the presence of black flames obscures its expression and what lies within. Judging from the sounds it makes, we suspect chains are constantly in motion inside the flames.

There have been no human casualties from the Blind Eater in the past 17 years. That’s because it always devours Guimae first. The countermeasure is simple: Run away while it’s busy eating other Guimae. If you see its signature flames or hear the sound of chains, run. We currently have no means of subduing or containing it.

(Access below this point restricted to Security Level 3 or higher)

Based on its previous targeting of Agent Choi Beomseok, the last bearer, we’re almost certain it hunts based on contamination level. That’s likely also why it prioritizes Guimae over humans.

Clink.

The sound of chains clashed and echoed through the darkness. The eerie metallic ringing spread rapidly through the sealed blackness, overtaking the entire space. What had once sounded like it came from beside him now reverberated from the floor, the ceiling, behind him, beneath his feet. Or perhaps it had never been beside him at all.

Knees pulled to his chest, face buried in his arms, Yu Jiha trembled. Then, he realized—the metallic sound had stopped. Maybe that chain monster had left. Slowly, cautiously, he raised his head.

And met its gaze.

Through the infernal black flames, the Guimae loomed directly above him, staring down in utter silence.

*Guimae (괴매): A term in this story’s setting for monstrous, ghostlike entities. Left untranslated due to its contextual uniqueness.