Killing the Possessor - Chapter 128

It was about four days after the encounter with Crudi Foss when I was abruptly summoned by Bali for a nighttime meeting.

The address on the note pointed to a tavern called Roitri—a place I’d visited not long after transmigrating, and not exactly a spot full of good memories. I wondered why we had to meet there of all places, but once I arrived, it made sense.

“…So there was a secret room.”

Underneath the perpetually crowded pub, there was a hidden space reserved for agents. Just like Rouge’s Atelier, this was another one of Bali’s favorite safehouses.

“I heard you lost your mask. Use this. You can’t show your face.”

Hawk handed me a black cloth mask, and I quickly covered my face. It seemed other agents were here too.

To make myself less obviously female, I twisted my hair up on one side and pulled a large hood over my head. Hawk even checked to make sure my coat was securely fastened before leading me down to the secret room.

“Hey, Hawk—about the other night, why did you…”

I was just about to ask why he’d disappeared without a word after our run-in with Crudi Foss, but the words died in my throat as soon as the iron door swung open and I saw what was inside.

“…What the hell…?”

There was a man with what looked like a paper bag pulled over his head, tied up and strapped to a chair.

Masked agents in Hahoe masks surrounded him in a circle, the shadowy basement and dim lighting making the whole scene feel like something straight out of a noir filmor a cult ritual.

The sheer oddness of everyone wearing masks only made it more surreal.

“You’re here?”

The only one wearing a different mask—a Gaksi mask—was a woman who tilted her head in my direction. Even without hearing her voice, I knew it was Bali; her arrogant posture on the sofa, arms folded, made it obvious.

“Who’s that?”

Instead of answering, Bali turned to the man in the chair and called.

“Hey, tell us who you are.”

“…Noonim, don’t you think it’s a bit humiliating to have all these spectators watching me?”

Just from the way he spoke, I instantly knew: Crudi Foss. What on earth had he done to get dragged in like this?

And yet, the way he called Bali ‘noonim’ so politely, even while tied up, was almost funny.

“Mr. Heo Kwang-hyun, twenty-one, unemployed, from LA—one more time. Tell us why the Public Safety Bureau agents raided your home the day you met Kimchi Girl.”

“…Kimchi Girl?”

I whipped around to look at Bali, alarmed by the weird nickname. Was that supposed to be me?

“Yeah, it’s your new alias. You asked him about kimchi, didn’t you?”

“But Hawk asked me about kimchi too!”

So why am I the Kimchi Girl and not Hawk the Kimchi Boy? I love kimchi, sure, but I really don’t want that to be my code name for future missions.

But Bali, already bored, turned her attention back to Crudi.

“Well, Heo Kwang-hyun, are you going to answer or not?”

“I already told you, I don’t know. Maybe they were suspicious because I skipped work, but really—you guys are supposed to help me!”

Bali just sighed, then jerked her chin toward me.

“I had to kidnap and interrogate him earlier.”

“…You didn’t torture him, right?”

I didn’t see any obvious injuries or torture tools, but with magic, you never really knew. The scene wouldn’t have felt out of place if they had tortured him, so I asked cautiously.

“We don’t hurt our own. We’re not about to stoop to Public Safety’s level.”

In other words, they hadn’t touched him because he still might be a possessor.

I looked over at Crudi, who sat slumped and helpless in the chair, his eyes covered. If he hadn’t been from the Public Security Bureau, he probably wouldn’t have been interrogated so harshly. I felt a twinge of sympathy. Unless, of course, he really was a spy sent by the Public Security Bureau, in which case all bets were off.

“Sir Crudi Foss, how are you going to work these days?”

As soon as work was mentioned, he started snickering—a laugh that sent a strange shiver down my spine.

“I was worried about what kind of job I’d get stuck with, but all they ask me to do is have s*x! It’s paradise.”

“….”

“Should’ve transmigrated ages ago.”