Chapter 7 : Shell, Mimic (5)

Shin Hansol smiled at the report he just heard.

Now, the situation had changed.

In the end, if you deliver overwhelming results, petty arguments become meaningless.

‘No need to worry about her reaction anymore.’

“Kim Sera, may I say something as well?”

She seemed to sense something strange in his tone, but it was already too late.

“Go ahead.”

“Do you know how much manpower and budget Parang has deployed to Jeondo City for this emergency support?”

“We’re wasting valuable resources in a region that’s not even our jurisdiction—and you react like this? I can’t help but express regret.”

Truthfully, it would’ve been easy to just avoid this confrontation.

But she responded to him anyway—probably just to stall for time.

He recalled what he’d heard earlier.

“What? A unique Doppelgänger? Don’t make me laugh.”

Doppelgängers are myths from history books.

Why would one appear here?

Besides, the only two observed cases were in the U.S. and Europe—not Korea.

If she were a folklore expert or a historian with in-depth knowledge of Doppelgängers, that’d be one thing.

But Shin Hansol knew about her—she was recently well-known in Seoul.

Her main field? Archaeology.

‘Read a few papers and now she wants to act like an expert in another field?’

The Academic Center isn’t some fairytale world where anything goes.

“Well then—”

“You seem busy, but please listen to this before you go.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, confused, as he continued.

“That special Doppelgänger you mentioned? Our team just completely subdued it and is transporting it here now.”

“Already…?”

“You’re well aware that your Jeondo City didn’t contribute a single thing to this operation, right?

And I assume you also understand what attitude you should take from here on.”

In this reversed situation, Shin Hansol was thrilled.

That proud woman, who normally wouldn’t even look his way, now stood silently, speechless at his words.

“This Doppelgänger-type Concept—we, Parang HQ, will take it.”

“You can’t do that. We’re the ones who located and contained it, and requested emergency support.

You only acted on our request—!”

SLAM!

Shin Hansol pounded the table with his fist.

“Then will you take responsibility for this?

Contrary to your assessment, the Concept wasn’t low-risk.

Because of that, we at Parang used up unnecessary resources.

Roughly 1.52 billion won.

Each suppressor costs that much—you know they’re single-use.

We deployed ten of them this time.

If you don’t object to the cost, then please pay up.

We’ll be generous—knock off 200 million. Just pay 15 billion.”

As Kim Sera stood there, trembling with rage, Shin Hansol smirked.

“If you play nice, I might assign you partial credit for the operation.

We’ll erase the costs, too.”

“Or how about this?

Let’s say we sent in personnel for citizen safety, and claim it was your Jeondo Research Center who handled it.

We’ll make sure the transport goes smoothly.”

“Still…”

“Kim Sera. Sigh. You still think you’re the Chief Scholar of Seoul or something?”

Seeing her still waver, clueless about her position, Shin Hansol frowned.

He hadn’t planned to go this far.

He jabbed her chest repeatedly with his finger, then spoke to a subordinate walking into the tent.

“She’s decided to hand this one over to us.

Suppress it properly with a suppressor and get it safely sent to HQ.”

“Huh? Yes! Understood.”

“When did I agree—”

“Thank you very much.

Well, I’m busy now.

See you again, Ms. Kim Sera.”

The usual line Concepts used—“Wanna play?”—didn’t matter anymore.

Wanna drink? The air’s nice. Let’s play some soccer. Wanna eat?

Any of those phrases, if the person finds them fun, become invitations to play.

A distortion of meaning. A mutation of rules.

When the first armed team stormed in, the Concept of Distortion obediently let itself be restrained.

Or so it seemed.

Using its new ability as an evolved Concept—“Distortion”—it altered how things appeared.

As the soldiers laughed, holding bloodied dolls like children with toys, Distortion smiled.

You like this?

It’s fun, right?

If it’s fun, it’s a game.

She walked to the man standing at the back, who looked out of place in his black suit, and tapped his shoulder.

“You like this?”

“Of course.”

He agreed with her question.

“But… who are you…?”

The girl’s voice shouldn’t have been audible.

And before the man could finish his question, his vocal cords were shredded—his body turned bright red like a paper craft torn apart.

Distortion held a white, pulsing mass—his essence—in her hands.

She could feel power inside it.

She heard the howling and screaming coming from within, and promptly stuffed it into her mouth.

Distortion’s presence: +3

[-1,000,000 → -999,997]

A negligible difference.

To maintain her current form… she would need more.

Licking her lips, she looked toward the others, still gazing at the dolls, unaware of what had happened.

Thankfully, there were still plenty of toys.

“What’s the status from the team that entered the building?”

“No response yet. I think…”

The voice trailed off, but no one questioned it.

Everyone present was an elite veteran of this field.

Being a team leader or regular member of a province-level academic center required exceptional ability.

High physical fitness, sharp mental strength, and advanced academic qualifications were all mandatory.

So when the team inside went silent, and no reply came back—

“They’re dead.”

Team 2 had split into three small squads.

They waited, just in case… but no signal ever came.

There was no choice now.

They had to go in.

Team 2’s leader, Kang Seongho, raised his hand to signal to the tense agents waiting outside.

Proceed.

At his command, Kang Seongho and his team silently slipped into the building.

Inside, there were collapsed people, knocked out by suppressor jamming.

They moved carefully.

Eventually, Kang reached the kindergarten—the last location where GPS had pinged.

No issues so far.

He signaled again.

Proceed. Guns only if necessary. Do not attack first.

With a deep breath, Kang Seongho kicked open the door and entered.

The moment he stepped inside, he felt it—

a strange, suffocating aura that hadn’t been detectable outside.

The kind of feeling Concepts give off.

A sense of unease that humans instinctively can’t tolerate.

Squelch—

Looking down, he saw blood.

Scattered body parts were strewn across the floor.

Kang started to pull the trigger—then hesitated.

…Huh?

Inside the kindergarten were fallen children, a single suited team member still standing,

and a blood-soaked Doppelgänger restrained by a suppressor.

The situation was already over.

“Phew. Everyone come in. Situation resolved.”

Some of the newer members couldn’t hold back anymore and gagged.

“Ugh…”

“Hey, don’t puke.”

“Shit.”

One team member, strangely untouched and clean, stood with a pale face.

Odd.

But… not really.

Why had he even thought that?

His mind went foggy, then returned.

The only apparent survivor’s face became clear—covered in blood.

“You’re Hyunwoo, right? What happened to the others?”

“@1$@”

“They were killed trying to subdue the Doppelgänger? Why didn’t you send a signal—oh… I see.”

“$@$$%”

His mind blurred again.

“You really took it down by yourself? That’s amazing… Best rookie ever.

Who scouted you? We’re gonna get a huge bonus this time. Good job.”

“$!23$”

“Only team leaders can report to HQ directly… you want to do it?

Well… maybe you can…”

“Yeah… go ahead.”

“$@$@”

“You happy? Who doesn’t like bonuses, right? Of course you’re happy—”

Suddenly, dizziness hit.

Overwhelming fatigue crushed Kang Seongho, and he collapsed to the floor.

His eyes closed.

“Wh-What’s… happening…?”

He heard the rookie’s voice in his ear.

Strangely unfamiliar.

He thought they’d been talking all along—but now it sounded like a stranger.

As the fog lifted, the voice became clear.

“This is Alpha.

Concept neutralized.

Currently in transport. No resistance. Zero casualties.”

He heard a man’s cheerful voice in his ear.

Zero casualties?

What does that mean…?

Wait… you…

“Today’s bonus is coming. You happy?”

“Really?! Of course I’m happy!”

“I’ll give you money. Lots of it.

Feels good, right? You like that?”

As Kang Seongho barely opened his eyes, resisting the fatigue,

he saw his teammates breaking apart like shredded paper.

Still alive.

Holding dolls.

Limbs severed.

Still smiling.

Is this hell?

His mind went black.