TFN C55

Chapter 55

“Ah, you’ve got quite a temper, haven’t you?”

The vice-captain cast Wonhyo a wistful glance before adjusting the tablet in his hands.

“In any case, if it’s something you’re looking for, why not use a proper search dog? This pup shouldn’t even be out walking yet.”

He gestured toward the ruined buildings, where a host of working dogs waited in readiness.

Cheongmun’s gaze flicked that way, then returned to the small form in his arms. Adjusting his hold, he said evenly,

“This one… has his own field of expertise. Isn’t that right?”

“…Meong.”

Wonhyo could still speak human words—the effect of the communication item hadn’t worn off—but he had no intention of revealing his transformation to anyone other than Cheongmun. So he barked instead.

The corner of Cheongmun’s eye twitched.

Heat rushed up into Wonhyo’s face. He nearly buried his nose in Cheongmun’s chest to scream down the embarrassment, but instead he lifted his head with stubborn dignity.

The others, oblivious, only looked at him with bemused expressions, as if finding the exchange curious.

“…Meong. Meong.”

He tapped Cheongmun’s arm with his paw, signaling to be put down.

Cheongmun obliged, lowering him gently.

Wonhyo planted his four paws firmly on the ground. The night wind swept his fur, nearly toppling his small body, but he held himself proudly, nose twitching as he sifted through the scents.

“Meong!”

He raised a paw, pointing toward the direction they needed to go.

He set off bravely, intent on leading the way himself, but the moment his paw touched down, a sting pricked his pad.

Something stuck?

As he lifted his paw to check, Officer Lee—the same one who had earlier identified him as a Maltese—spoke up.

“Team Leader, judging by his bone structure, he doesn’t look even three months old. It’d be safer to carry him. I doubt he’s had his full vaccinations yet. Usually, you don’t take pups outside before the last shot—it’s too risky for infections.”

What?

Wonhyo froze, paw still lifted, and craned his head toward Cheongmun.

Cheongmun plucked him up with gloved fingers and settled him back in his arms.

“You heard him. Better to be cautious.”

“…Meong.”

Was that why nothing happened the last time he transformed—because it had been indoors? His mother and sister hadn’t said a word, so he had assumed it was fine. He could have been in real danger.

With a sigh, Wonhyo abandoned any pretense of walking on his own and resigned himself to dangling comfortably in Cheongmun’s hold.

“The dungeon won’t be fully closed until the follow-up operations. In the meantime, let’s take shelter.”

With that, Cheongmun carried him into a waiting tent he hadn’t noticed being set up.

Wonhyo dozed off, his small body nodding, and woke precisely an hour later. His ears flicked at the stirrings outside, and his bleary eyes opened.

Cheongmun, bent over paperwork, raised his head at once.

“You’re awake?”

“…Uh?”

Wonhyo almost answered reflexively—then clamped his mouth shut in shock.

Why could he still speak?

Cheongmun’s eyes narrowed.

“Seems you consumed more than the intended dosage.”

Normally the effect faded after about an hour. He had thought sleep would take care of it. Now tension seeped back into his body.

Wonhyo swallowed hard.

“No need to be overly concerned,” Cheongmun said. “Once outside, simply point the direction. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Meong.”

A chill breeze swept in, stirring the scents. The reek spread, sharper than before.

Wonhyo wrinkled his nose, then thrust a paw toward the source.

“Meong!”

Here!

The stench was strongest at the collapsed remains of the gosiwon building that had once formed the dungeon’s heart.

Cheongmun strode toward it, Wonhyo tucked firmly in his arm.

“Here?”

Unable to free his hands, he tapped the spot with the toe of his boot.

Wonhyo nodded. His oversized head lolled, but Cheongmun tightened his hold.

“This place?”

The vice-captain bent down, peering into the shadows beneath the tilted concrete wall. Nothing visible in the darkness.

He straightened, surveying the area. Not far away, yellow caution tape still marked the dungeon’s former entrance.

“Another hour later and we’d have been here all night.”

He summoned his team.

Survivor checks beneath the rubble had already been completed—these days, rescue dogs could detect any living presence within a minute, even if unconscious.

The disappointed dogs were being led away with treats to soothe them.

Wonhyo’s nose twitched at the scent of dog treats, saliva pooling before he shook himself back to focus.

Cheongmun, with a cloth from who knew where, wiped his muzzle clean before turning back to the vice-captain.

“How long to wrap up the current inspections?”

“About fifteen minutes now that the dungeon’s closed.”

“Good. Once the remains are transferred, we’ll begin immediately. Have all survivors been moved to hospitals?”

“Yes. Not all could be admitted nearby, so we split them among six. Those with possession symptoms were sent urgently to the Catholic hospital, minor injuries went to Songpa. Most were fractures, so we filled the closest facilities first.”

Ambulances had run without pause, ferrying dozens of patients.

Wonhyo, listening, sniffed again to test the air.

“Hueh-choo!”

The sneeze burst out before he could stop it. Eyes wide, he jerked his head up to Cheongmun.

That had sounded far too human!

“Cold, perhaps?” the vice-captain remarked. “By the way—where’s the shaman? The one who lent you this dog?”

“Who?” Cheongmun’s reply was smooth.

“This pup—it’s his, isn’t it?”

Wonhyo nearly choked, coughing on the breath caught in his throat.

Cheongmun swiftly patted his back. The firm yet gentle rhythm steadied him.

“Shall I give him some water?”

“I’ll see to it. Vice-captain, before we transfer the deceased, check if any of those who posted comments on HunterNet are among them. Also, confirm whether the deceased were locals or drawn from elsewhere.”

“…Understood. We’re lifting prints now, so residence data will be ready shortly. I’ll compile and report.”

The vice-captain hurried off, burdened with tasks, leaving Wonhyo limp with relief.

“The effect should be fading soon,” Cheongmun murmured. “You’ll be fine.”

“…Meong?”

Oh?

Wonhyo instinctively opened his mouth to say no—only for a bark to emerge instead.

Oddly, it was a relief. He no longer had to fear words slipping out by mistake, nor feel shame at mimicking a dog’s voice.

“Meong! Meong!”

It’s really over now!

Cheongmun’s hand smoothed gently over his head.

Nestled in his arms, Wonhyo drifted into a light doze, then woke to sip water. A handler even fed him some rice porridge meant for the rescue dogs, easing his hunger.

Soon, more equipment arrived, and preparations for excavation began.

Wonhyo snorted softly. At last.

“Commence.”

Workers donned gloves and helmets. Teams hauled out chunks of concrete, while Investigations Team One unpacked their instruments.

“But what exactly are we supposed to find?” one muttered.

“How would we know before digging? Whatever was in the room will come out. Nothing here to steal.”

Even Wonhyo only knew that the object tainted with the specter’s stench lay buried below. The specifics were unclear.

The foul aura was so strong it overwhelmed every other trace—cigarette smoke, instant ramen—small things drowned out.

Still, as the debris was cleared, the interior slowly revealed itself.

Cheongmun summoned a cube, lifting the section Wonhyo had indicated.

The cube brimmed with cement fragments. With a shake, he sifted them like a sieve until the contents gathered by type: metals with metals, concrete with concrete, cloth, wood, plastic each in clusters.

He cast aside the useless, spread the rest upon a tarp, then lifted Wonhyo higher.

“Is it here?”

Sniffing, Wonhyo shook his head.

“Meong.”

Cheongmun repeated the process, raising another mass of rubble.

This time, Wonhyo reacted first.