"Ugh!"
Seongho wrapped his arm around the man's neck and tightened his grip.
*Thud, thud!*
The man, startled by the sudden attack, struggled and beat on Seongho’s arm, but Seongho’s strength was not something an ordinary civilian could shake off.
Before coming to this place, Seongho had increased his physical stats to level 7 with the abilities he had gained.
Seongho, gauging his newfound strength, applied more pressure to his arm.
“Cough, cough...!”
The man’s breathing stopped, his eyes rolled back as he passed out.
Seongho laid the man down on the floor and turned his attention to the person still standing by the door.
*‘Not even a glance in my direction, huh?’*
The man didn’t look around at all, instead staring directly at the fire burning inside the room.
Seongho observed the man’s actions, recalling the words of the man he had just knocked out.
“Puppet bastard…”
The term was unfamiliar to him, but he had encountered it multiple times in writings.
In the original story, Go Ji-hoon used the term “puppet” to refer to those he controlled with his powers.
Seongho decided to close the door and head toward the source of the fire.
The flames, fueled by oil, were hard to extinguish, but after stamping the ignition point a few times with his foot, the flames died out.
Now, with a sigh of relief, Seongho walked back toward the person who was still standing motionless.
He waved his hand in front of the man’s face, grabbed his arm, even tugged at his cheek, but the man showed no reaction at all.
He had clearly fallen under the puppet ability.
*‘I can’t touch him now.’*
The puppet ability worked by connecting threads of this unique power to the head of the target, issuing commands. If Seongho were to kill the man or break the control, Go Ji-hoon would immediately notice something had happened to his puppet.
It was safe to assume that Go Ji-hoon had full control over anyone he was commanding.
Truly, it was an incredibly troublesome ability.
Seongho sighed inwardly, leaving the man as he grabbed a sleeping bag.
Without hesitation, he tore the sleeping bag into pieces.
It was to bind the unconscious man in case he regained consciousness, and also to be ready in case the one giving the orders woke up.
Seongho made sure to stuff a piece of the cloth into the man’s mouth, securing it tightly as a gag.
*‘No need to let him babble if he regains consciousness.’*
It was obvious the man would ask the puppet to help him once he woke up.
Seongho double-checked the knots, ensuring the gag wouldn’t come undone.
Then, he picked up the bundle of keys the unconscious man had dropped when he entered the room.
Upon closer inspection, Seongho noticed that all the keys had stickers on them.
*‘They’re all priest quarters keys.’*
Priest quarters were small individual spaces where priests typically resided.
*‘These spaces are perfect for isolating the newly arrived survivors.’*
Seongho considered the survivors who would be locked away in these quarters.
Even if he opened the doors with these keys, would they actually leave?
*‘Highly unlikely.’*
With a warm heater, a cozy sleeping bag, and delicious food at every meal, how willing would these survivors, weary from all their struggles, be to listen to Seongho’s words when they first met him?
*‘I’ll just stick to my original plan and leave these quarters untouched.’*
Seongho gathered the keys, the torn sleeping bag, and the portable heater with oil and headed toward the door.
Before leaving, he glanced back at the motionless man.
Although he couldn’t help him while he was under control, Seongho muttered under his breath,
“Wait until dawn. Then you won’t have to stay like this anymore.”
It wasn’t clear if the words were meant for the man who would be left behind or for Seongho, who had to leave him behind despite having a way to help him.
With that, Seongho shut the door and locked it. The sound of the lock echoed, and soon, his footsteps faded away.
The silence in the room deepened.
A single drop of water fell from the eyes of the man, standing motionless like a broken puppet.
No one saw it, but it was there.
* * *
The priest’s quarters were off-limits to outsiders.
But Seongho vaguely knew the layout of these quarters.
*‘The head priest certainly took good care of me.’*
As a curious child, Seongho had been shown around the building by a priest before.
The orphanage Seongho stayed at had many interactions with Myeongdong Cathedral.
At the time, the bishop in charge of the diocese was very concerned about supporting orphans.
*‘He always believed that if the children wanted something, they should at least be given it once.’*
Following that bishop’s example, most people in the church were generous with the children.
They had even shown Seongho around the building when he had asked, curious about the interior.
Seongho smiled at the memory of that day, unknowingly letting out a small chuckle.
It was the day he first felt like a special person.
The fact that he was allowed into a place others couldn’t go had been a source of pride for a long time.
As Seongho reminisced, he quickened his steps.
It didn’t take long to pass through the corridors of the priest’s quarters and descend the stairs to the lower floor.
In the quiet hours of the early morning, when there were no people walking around except for the few on guard duty, Seongho moved like a stealthy cat through the building’s hallways.
A few times, he spotted people passing on the lower floors, but he hid in the shadows and was not detected.
Ultimately, Seongho made his way to his desired location safely.
*‘The priest’s quarters storage.’*
It was a place where various supplies were stored: tools, repair materials for emergencies, or unused furniture.
Though he had reached his destination, Seongho hesitated to enter at first.
Instead, he stood in front of the familiar door of the storage, biting his lip.
It was a complicated feeling.
*‘The hospital, the church...’*
Why was this world so similar to the reality Seongho remembered?
*‘Is it a parallel world, or something like that?’*
The question weighed heavily on him, and he couldn’t push the thought away.
Frustrated, Seongho bit his lip harder, shaking off the confusion.
Rummaging through the bundle of keys he had collected, he quickly found the one that fit the storage door.
With a click, the lock opened.
Once inside, Seongho immediately started looking for tools.
He gathered various items: cable ties, hammers, hand axes, and even a rebar cutter that could cut through locks and chains.
He placed them neatly into a box.
Seongho also brought the torn sleeping bag and the oil heater from the room.
As he packed, he thought about his next steps.
*‘The final destination is the cultural school building.’*
It was where the survivors, after completing their quarantine in the priest’s quarters, would go. It was the food storage of the camp.
Seongho planned to set it on fire, luring the cannibal camp members.
*‘It’s impossible to go outside the church grounds.’*
After observing the church the previous day, Seongho realized all the exits to the outside had been barricaded with furniture and vehicles.
Thus, he had to move within the church grounds.
*‘It’s not a big problem.’*
He had already checked the patrol routes and their frequency.
Having sorted out his movement plan, Seongho gathered his equipment and stood up.
Just then, something caught his eye in the corner of the storage.
Through the broken glass, he saw something clearly.
*‘...It’s the church people.’*
The faces and names of the priests who had originally been here.
There was a list, with their positions and photographs printed together.
All the faces were unfamiliar to Seongho, proving that this was not the world he knew.
He stared at the faces of people he had never seen before.
Given that Go Ji-hoon’s group had taken control of this church, predicting their fate was not difficult.
Seongho turned his head away from the photos, his heart growing heavier.
*‘Better not think about it.’*
He had made an agreement with Im Chan to move at dawn.
He had to finish all preparations before then.
Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Seongho left the storage.
Checking the watch he had borrowed from Im Chan, it was almost time for the first patrol to end.
There was still time before the second patrol, but Seongho was cautious, walking carefully and quietly.
Each time he passed the patrol route, his heart pounded from the tension.
After a few nerve-wracking moments, his movement was halted.
A disturbance he had never anticipated suddenly appeared.
*Flap!*
*Caaw!*
A crow flew from a nearby tree and
headed straight for Seongho.
“Ah...!”
Startled, Seongho almost shouted, but quickly shut his mouth.
He swatted at the crow, knocking it down with his hand.
But the crow quickly recovered, flying up again and attacking him.
*Caaw! Caaw!*
The crow screeched loudly, causing chaos.
The once silent church was now filled with noise.
Seongho grabbed the crow by the beak, muffling its protest.
Although the crow continued to squawk in protest, it wasn’t as loud as before.
The surroundings grew quiet once again.
Seongho, still on edge, scanned the area.
The dark night offered no sign of movement.
There were no lights or people approaching.
Only then did Seongho let out a quiet sigh of relief, his gaze turning sharp again.
He stared at the crow, still held in his grip, as a memory suddenly surfaced in his mind.
*‘Follow the black beast, and you’ll find an easier path.’*
The fortune cookie’s words that had occasionally clouded Seongho’s mind on his way to the church.
*‘The black beast...’*
Could it be related to this situation now?
The thought felt improbable, but there was still a nagging feeling.
Seongho was torn, unable to resolve the confusion in his mind.
Then, he felt the crow struggling in his grip and snapped out of his thoughts.
For a brief moment, he glanced between the crow and the path ahead.
*‘Given the setting of this world, there aren’t many living beasts.’*
The likelihood of encountering the black beast again seemed low.
However, it was worth checking.
Seongho, having hurried from the priest’s quarters, still had time before dawn.
He murmured to the crow in his hand.
“If you make noise again, I’ll snap your neck.”
Although he felt a little ridiculous talking to the crow, he couldn’t help himself, and instinctively spoke the words.
After that, Seongho cautiously loosened his grip, letting the crow go.
The crow tilted its head, seeming to think for a moment.
*‘At least it didn’t make as much noise as before.’*
Seongho’s tense feelings gradually eased.
With a silent sigh of relief, Seongho looked down at the crow standing at his feet.
*‘If it’s going to follow, it needs to move first.’*
Should he urge it to go?
Before he could finish the thought, the crow hopped forward.
Seongho watched the crow’s back, following its lead.
A short time later, the crow stopped in front of a building—the morgue's back entrance.
*Creek, creak.*
The sound of something being dragged on the floor.
Thud, thud.
It sounded like something was being struck.
Was someone inside the building?
*‘Why didn’t anyone come out when the crow was causing a ruckus earlier?’*
There were no lights visible from the outside.
What was this sound?
Seongho’s confusion grew, and as he tilted his head to figure it out, the crow stopped by a corner of the building.
A faint light was leaking from inside.