Chapter 105: The Ones Drawn by Madness

Sung Ji-woo cast debuffs beyond the barrier. Judging by the cries of pain, the monsters were clearly taking damage. Their sheer numbers were annoying, but they weren’t particularly difficult opponents to deal with.

The monsters that staggered under the debuffs pulled out all of their spines and died on the spot.

Not to be outdone, Chae Min-jung began hurling red potions indiscriminately. A series of explosions rang out beyond the water barrier. Even so, the number of monsters showed no sign of decreasing.

It was good that every attack landed cleanly, but seeing the monsters multiply endlessly made Sung Ji-woo realize this was turning into a war of attrition. He let out a deep sigh.

Judging from their expressions, the other guild members were thinking the same thing.

“Everyone, how’s your stamina holding up?”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Not okay at all!”

In order, Son Ji-hwan, Lee Won-jae, and Chae Min-jung answered Sung Ji-woo’s question.

Boom!

As if on cue, the water barrier burst apart. What had barely been holding together lost all strength in an instant, turning into limp liquid that splashed everywhere.

The guild members, who had been standing right in the middle of it, ended up completely drenched. Still, no one could bring themselves to blame Lee Won-jae.

After all, he had been the only one who opposed this plan from the start.

Son Ji-hwan hoisted Lee Won-jae over his shoulder. His claim that he trained by carrying sacks of rice didn’t seem exaggerated—he didn’t look strained at all.

For a fleeting moment, the thought crossed Sung Ji-woo’s mind that if Yoo Heero were here, he could’ve easily bound all four of them to his shadow and carried them around for fun.

But Heero wasn’t here.

And they had to survive without him.

As if taking over the baton, Sung Ji-woo immediately deployed a shield around the four of them. A massive sphere of light wrapped them in warm radiance.

Just like the stone golem they’d encountered in the gate he first entered with Yoo Heero, the Mountain Madmen slammed their bodies into the shield—only to be bounced back with a boing! sound.

Unlike the water barrier, Sung Ji-woo’s shield repelled attacks. It didn’t reflect them with the same speed and force, but it still allowed for a degree of counteraction.

Perhaps they hadn’t expected to be pierced by their own spines—the Mountain Madmen panicked when their spines embedded backward into their bodies and fled in disarray.

“So what’s next?”

Chae Min-jung asked as she laid out an assortment of potions. After a brief moment of thought, Sung Ji-woo scanned their surroundings and replied,

“Since we’ve successfully lured them out, we need to scatter them again.”

At that same moment, Yoo Heero was causing something very close to a riot in the recovery ward.

Charged with attempting to harm the second test subject during the previous incident, he was now laden with restraints upon restraints.

They had even brought out old-fashioned binding devices—relics from an era when newly emerged ability users were treated as mutants and their human rights were at rock bottom.

The newer devices were far more effective, but these crude, menacing restraints were clearly meant for show.

Yoo Heero stared blankly at the shackles fastened around his ankles. The handcuffs clinking in his hands hardly needed mentioning.

“Ha…”

The reason they hadn’t restrained him immediately upon bringing him here was simple. He hadn’t been using his abilities. And more importantly, he couldn’t.

In a state so close to blackout, Yoo Heero knew better than anyone that a single misstep could trigger a rampage.

Using his ability on the child had partly been out of curiosity—he wanted to see how much he could still manage right now.

He shouldn’t have done it.

Right after the child left, Yoo Heero sensed that something was wrong with his body, and soon after, he was wracked by relentless fever.

His consciousness wavered. Pain crashed over him like lightning, stealing his vision.

When he finally came to his senses, he was already dressed in a full restraint suit. Unable to move, he could only force out ragged breaths. Then, at the absurdity of his situation, he let out weak, hollow laughter.

Only after half a day had passed since waking did they replace the restraint suit with heavy shackles instead. It was better than having his limbs completely immobilized—but that didn’t mean he liked it.

“Nothing but a wild beast,”

the center director sneered as he looked at him. Yoo Heero didn’t bother denying it.

Not because he believed he truly was a “beast,” but because they wanted him to be one.

That was why they believed they could bind him with this kind of nonsense.

Even under Yoo Heero’s cold gaze, the director’s expression didn’t change as he raised an ampoule.

“I only gave you a small taste. How is it? Seems like the effect is pretty solid.”

Seeing the ampoule glint under the fluorescent lights, Yoo Heero clenched his teeth. It was probably the drug the director had previously mentioned—the one with side effects.

He hated to admit it, but there was no denying that the drug had improved his condition. It felt as though his ability was being artificially adjusted, leaving an unpleasant sensation behind.

It was different from the restraints. If the restraints felt like binding his ability, the drug felt like a dam holding it back. The power threatening to overflow made his stomach churn, as if he were sick from it.

He wanted to expel the overflowing ability all at once. His already sensitive senses felt sharpened to an extreme.

The high-pitched hum of the fluorescent lights overhead—something he’d never noticed before—now sounded loud enough to rupture his eardrums.

From somewhere far away, he even heard the child he’d barely driven off whining about whether he could go see that older brother again.

The thin gruel they’d given him under the guise of recovery was impossible to swallow properly; he ended up spitting it out, thanks to his hypersensitive taste buds.

Not being able to eat properly or sleep properly—it had been a long time since he’d lived like this. Perhaps he’d grown too accustomed to the overly peaceful life by Sung Ji-woo’s side, because the past few days felt harder than the worst years he’d endured before.

Amid the constant buzzing noise filling his head, Yoo Heero thought—

If cooperating with the director, obtaining that drug, and returning to Sung Ji-woo were an option…
he might very well make that choice soon.

That was how close his patience was to running dry.

“Ah, I miss Yoo Heero!”

With ankles barely holding together, Sung Ji-woo shouted desperately as he sprinted. His voice echoed through some unknown mountain range.

Words that would never reach the person they were meant for.

The moment Sung Ji-woo’s shield deactivated, the guild members scattered in all directions without even counting down. There were exactly four of them, perfectly splitting off to the north, south, east, and west.

Each held a different potion that Chae Min-jung had pressed into their hands. The one Sung Ji-woo received was a flight potion.

Strictly speaking, it didn’t let him fly—it supposedly allowed him to defy gravity in some way. But in his frantic state, it was hard to fully understand the explanation.

As he tore down an unknown downhill slope, a massive lake suddenly appeared before him. It gave off such an ominous aura that it felt like some legendary creature might be lurking within. Sung Ji-woo skidded to a halt in shock, barely avoiding plunging straight in.

Momentum carried his body forward, his sneakers’ toes soaking wet. Behind him, the Mountain Madmen charged like true lunatics.

“I didn’t plan on using this so soon…”

Even as he said it, Sung Ji-woo swiftly popped the cork and gulped down the foul-tasting liquid.

It tasted nothing like the stamina potion he’d taken while climbing the mountain. The thick, concentrated blue liquid took effect the moment it was absorbed into his body.

The instant he stepped forward, intent on fleeing at least a little—

His body lifted off the ground.

“O-oh?”

Rather than hovering in place, his body slowly drifted downward. Just before touching the ground, he kicked off again—and this time, he shot even higher.

It felt like standing atop a gigantic trampoline, his body bobbing up and down. Startled by the unfamiliar sensation, Sung Ji-woo quickly regained his balance.

The claim that it let him defy gravity seemed true—not only could he kick off the ground, but he could also push off tree trunks. Tilting his floating body sideways, he kicked off trees one after another, racing freely through the mountains like a fish in water.

In his wake lay heaps of monster corpses. The spines that poured toward him in shimmering waves shattered cleanly under the swing of his blade, raining down in broken fragments.

Guaah!

Struck by their own falling barrage of spines, the monsters scattered in all directions.

Standing atop a tree, Sung Ji-woo spotted a dense cluster of Mountain Madmen gathered in the distance.

“…What is that?”

He narrowed his eyes. The place they were swarming around was none other than a cave located in the central part of the mountain.

‘That might be their nest.’

With that thought, Sung Ji-woo leapt from branch to branch, swiftly making his way toward the cave.