Chapter 6 : Shell, Mimic (4)

The car came to a sudden stop, tires skidding loudly across the pavement.

A long black mark was left behind.

Under normal circumstances, such a noisy stop on a main road would have drawn a lot of attention from pedestrians, but

not a single passerby even glanced in that direction.

The steel barricade split by fencing was already in place.

As soon as Kim Sera had pinpointed the concept’s location, an evacuation and control order was issued for the area, so

the people screaming and scrambling to escape had already made the place loud enough.

“P-please! I’ll leave now, okay? Please?”

“My daughter is in there! Please, I’m begging you!”

“I’m sorry, no one can pass. Please step back!”

Kim Sera, stepping out of the car, looked at the people trapped inside the cordoned area, unable to escape.

Even though she’d seen such scenes several times before, she still wasn’t used to it. She turned her head away.

Of course, it would’ve been easier to just issue a general evacuation for the entire district without setting up barriers like

this.

But that wasn’t an option.

The opponent was a Doppelgänger.

A creature that deceives people by blending in—there’s no way it wouldn’t notice such large-scale movements and

changes.

Assuming otherwise is just wishful thinking.

There’s even a clear rule stated in the material released by the Alliance:

“Do not give a ‘concept’ time or let it escape.”

If you lose track of a revealed concept, the damage becomes unpredictable.

Even if nothing happens immediately, it’s never safe long term.

History has shown over and over again that the end result is always bad.

There are many cases proving how destructive a hostile concept can become if given enough time—like the concept of

Desertification, which settled into nature and became one with it.

So yes, it’s cruel to say, but if suppressing a concept results in a few local deaths, it’s still considered a fortunate outcome.

Humanity has known about these “concepts” for centuries, and since their first appearance, we’ve gradually gathered and

analyzed a massive amount of data—even at the cost of many lives.

We’re not like the people from the past who were clueless.

Now we even understand some of their behavioral patterns.

There’s one truth accepted by all schools of thought:

Concepts are not friendly to humans. They are hostile.

They only approach when necessary—and once that purpose is fulfilled, they harm or destroy their targets.

They are not beings humans can compromise with.

At best, the relationship is just mutual exploitation.

Kim Sera approached the officer guarding the barricade.

“We’ll take it from here.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for your service.”

A middle-aged man, likely a colonel, saluted and stepped aside. The steel fence swung open.

“Director.”

Han Yuri, holding her phone, had just finished a call and approached Kim Sera.

Ever since they arrived at the scene, Han Yuri’s expression had been tense and unchanging.

Kim Sera figured she was probably just nervous from returning to the field after a long time, so she didn’t think much of

it.

They weren’t close enough for Kim Sera to ask if she was okay—it might come off as patronizing.

“Any word from HQ?”

“They just arrived and finished setting up the suppression devices.”

“Oh? That’s faster than expected.”

Kim Sera whistled.

Given the distance, the speed of their arrival meant this location was being heavily monitored—even by the Korean

Academic Center in Seoul.

Maybe going back to Seoul wasn’t a fantasy after all.

But that delusion was quickly shattered by what Han Yuri said next.

“Of course. The temporary delegation of authority was only recently transferred. After the previous center

director disappeared, someone had to quickly fill the administrative gap in Jeondo City. That’s when the

higher-level ‘Province’-class Academic Center from the national Korean Academic Network stepped in—Blue.

Since the transfer of full jurisdiction isn’t complete, emergency support still falls under their authority.”

“So the reason they responded so fast this time… is because if something goes wrong here—”

“It won’t be just our Jeondo City’s fault anymore.”

Kim Sera sighed in agreement.

“Fine. I didn’t expect much anyway. So, I still have control over the suppression devices, right?”

“Yes, even though it’s emergency support, the final decision-making authority rests with you, Director Kim.

When should we schedule the activation?”

“Hmm… not right now. Set the activation order for three… no, five minutes from now. We haven’t finished

equipping all of our suppression suits yet—wait… blue?”

“Sorry?”

Before Kim Sera could finish her sentence, a huge gust of wind blasted outward from inside the area.

“Keep it under control!”

When Kim Sera came to her senses, Han Yuri was pointing silently toward the sky.

Her eyes widened.

A wave of blue energy was blanketing the sky over the entire city.

“W-what is this…”

It looked like a beautiful aurora.

Some nearby people even gasped in awe—but Kim Sera wasn’t fooled by appearances.

All the noise from malfunctioning electronic devices had suddenly stopped.

She recognized this color and this energy signature.

Then the aurora-like wave stopped spreading and began to fall to the ground like blue dust.

As soon as it touched her body, it felt like being submerged in water—her body felt heavy, and she couldn’t breathe

properly.

It was unmistakable. She had experienced this a few times while in Seoul.

A containment system designed to prevent a concept from escaping.

“Anti-Concept Suppression Device.”

Since it’s meant to suppress incredibly powerful forces, it’s actually more harmful to humans than the concepts

themselves.

And now it had been activated without any command.

The weak—children, the elderly—were already collapsing on the streets.

“That bastard…”

Shin Hansol, the head of Field Teams 1, 2, and 3 of the Blue Academic Center, lowered his phone and barked an order.

“Activate the suppression devices.”

“But… not everyone’s been evacuated yet…”

“How long have you been here?”

“About a month, sir…”

“Fine, I’ll let this one slide. But listen carefully. If you ever interrupt my orders again…”

“Y-yes, sir!”

“You know what the Alliance manual says?”

“Don’t give the concept any time or chance to escape…”

“Exactly. I’m just following the rulebook. We can’t waste even a second when people’s lives are on the line.”

Shin Hansol dismissed the newbie and walked off.

The deputy team leader quickly stepped in.

“Sorry about that. He hasn’t completed his training yet.”

“No worries. It happens.”

Shin Hansol then pointed to the map.

“As soon as the devices activate, send everyone into the designated zones.”

“Yes, sir.”

Suppression Devices, Activate!

• 1!

• 2!

• 3!

• Suppression activated!

The unpleasant energy around their bodies disappeared. The operation had begun.

Shin Hansol stood from his seat, hearing the noise outside.

“It’s here.”

As he stepped out of the command tent, a black-haired beauty stood in front of him.

Clearly not someone his men let through just for her looks.

“She must be the new Director of Jeondo City…”

“What is the meaning of this?”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

“The suppression device. You activated it without my order. Because of that, the energy already entered our

suits, causing problems. Some of my staff and even civilians collapsed.”

“Hmm. Is that really such a big issue?”

“You’re really asking that as if it’s a valid defense?”

“Ah, no. What I meant was—we only accepted the emergency request because it seemed urgent. We were

simply following protocol. It’s frustrating to be blamed for doing our job.”

“That protocol only applies when a city has no acting Director. But I am here. So your actions fall under

unauthorized overreach. Are you prepared to take responsibility for that?”

Shin Hansol was going to play it off as usual, but this woman was different.

Most people didn’t know about the emergency protocol exceptions, so he’d usually get away with it.

But not this time.

“Ah… I misspoke. Sorry. I really did want to wait for your command, Director Kim. But unfortunately, the

device had already begun activation by the time I got your arrival notice. It was too late to stop.”

“…That’s your explanation?”

“Yes? Is there something else you’re referring to? The fallen personnel? They were just too weak. You have a

kind heart, Director.”

“…Let’s just move on. What about the civilians?”

Shin Hansol took a sip of water and opened his mouth again.

“Well, I regret what happened to them too—”

Suddenly, a radio transmission cut him off.

Chzz— This is Alpha.
Concept neutralized.
Currently being transported. No resistance. Zero casualties.