Chapter 221: Another Great Sin
There exists a strange, contradictory hypocrisy in modern-day Korea.
On one hand, a significant portion of the populace holds a public-facing attitude of resistance, even disdain, for the culture of the neighboring Eastern Federation. Yet, on the other hand, they obsessively covet many of its core cultural components, seized by a relentless, nationalistic desire to claim them as their own...
Traditional herbal medicine is a prime example. While this ancient practice has seen a slow decline within the Eastern Federation itself, in Korea, it is a booming and deeply respected industry. It is a cultural staple for students preparing for high-stakes exams, with nearly every family brewing complex herbal tonics to bolster their children's health and stamina.
The Seo Pharmaceuticals Group was the undisputed titan of this very industry. While it couldn't be compared to a global goliath like the March Consortium, within the city of Seoul, it was a name that carried immense weight.
The Seo Pharmaceuticals headquarters was located in a sleek, modern tower far from the bustling downtown district. But as Lee Chae-rin's motorcade of black sedans pulled up to the curb, she immediately sensed that something was deeply wrong.
The building, which should have been thrumming with afternoon activity, was utterly dead. There were no employees coming or going. The only sign of life was a handful of men in black suits, clearly bodyguards, standing stiffly by the main entrance.
Lee Chae-rin's eyelids lowered slightly, her expression unreadable. In that single, silent observation, she already had a chillingly clear picture of Seo Ji-woo's operational style.
Without a word, she stepped out of her car. The corporate directors from the March Consortium, acting as her own entourage, flanked her as she walked toward the entrance.
"Ms. Lee," one of the black-suited guards said, stepping forward to block her path. "Director Seo invited only you to the meeting."
Lee Chae-rin didn't even acknowledge his existence. She continued to walk forward as if he were nothing but air.
The moment the guard tensed to stop her, her own security—the March Consortium directors, men of immense corporate power and authority—moved with practiced, cold efficiency. They didn't just block the guards; they physically displaced them, brushing them aside with contemptuous ease.
The entire group, with Lee Chae-rin at its center, swept through the main doors and into the lobby.
The interior was magnificent. Polished marble, gleaming steel, and a ceiling that soared three stories high. But the grandeur was suffocating, rendered utterly sterile by the absolute, tomb-like silence. The air was cold, and the entire atmosphere felt alien and deeply unsettling. The two directors following just behind Lee Chae-rin exchanged a brief, uneasy glance, but they knew better than to speak.
The public, and even many within the consortium, speculated that the eldest daughter of the March family had secured her power through simple favoritism. Those who truly knew her, like these men, understood the chilling reality. She was a strategist of terrifying capability. Her various aunts and uncles, who had once vied for control of the corporate throne, had all been systematically defeated and cast aside, one after another.
When a person like this was on the move, you did not offer your opinion. You simply tried to keep up.
The elevator car ascended in unsettling silence, the faint, tinny chime of its arrival on the 33rd floor sounding unnaturally loud.
The doors slid open.
Standing directly in front of the opening, as if he had been waiting for that precise second, was a man.
He was tall, perhaps 185 centimeters, with the lean, perfectly proportioned build of a model. His face was exceptionally handsome, his hair impeccably styled—the very picture of a top-tier corporate elite, dressed in a bespoke, high-end suit.
But the one detail that held Lee Chae-rin's gaze, the one feature that seemed dissonant and wrong, was his hands.
They were abnormally long and slender, with pale, immaculate fingers. They were flawless, like polished jade, and looked as if they had never done a day of work in their life.
The moment Seo Ji-woo saw Lee Chae-rin, his bright, polished smile widened. He stepped aside, gesturing her out of the elevator with a theatrical bow.
"You are, indeed, every bit as outstanding as I imagined you to be," he said, his voice smooth as silk.
He immediately turned and began to guide her toward a large conference room, completely and utterly ignoring the powerful March Consortium directors standing behind her. He didn't just dismiss them; he looked through them, as if they were not even sentient.
This single, arrogant act amplified the directors' feelings of unease. According to their intelligence, this man, despite being the eldest son, was only a mid-level 'Director' at Seo Pharmaceuticals. Rumors abounded that the patriarch, the true head of the Seo Group, favored his second son, and had all but disowned this one.
By all logic, a man in his position had no right—no power—to be this arrogant to them.
Seo Ji-woo stopped at the conference room door, holding it open for her. His smile remained bright and welcoming, but his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, meant only for her.
"Lady Moon Fiend... are you bringing these mortals along in some quaint attempt to cover your tracks? To maintain your disguise?"
He let out a soft, breathy chuckle. "That's really not necessary, you know. Not anymore... Hmph."
As he spoke, a faint, undeniable killing intent, as sharp and cold as a razor, leaked from him.
Lee Chae-rin's brow furrowed. This man, Seo Ji-woo, felt... dangerous. This constant, casual radiation of pure malice... it was disturbingly familiar.
That's it...
This feeling... it was terrifyingly similar to the one she got from him. From Kaito Shirogane.
Lee Chae-rin waved a hand, a clear, sharp dismissal to her entourage. "Find a place to wait."
The directors bowed, relieved to be away from the man, and Lee Chae-rin stepped alone into the conference room.
Three other people were already seated inside. When they saw her enter, followed by Seo Ji-woo, their faces all shifted, betraying a spectrum of emotions: sharp curiosity, a strange sense of relief, and deep, undisguised wariness.
Seo Ji-woo closed the heavy door, plunging the room into a quiet intimacy. He turned, only to see that Lee Chae-rin had, without any hesitation, walked directly to the head of the massive conference table—the seat of power—and sat down. She didn't ask. She just took it, her posture radiating an aura of natural, absolute authority.
She saw the flicker in Seo Ji-woo's eyes as he registered her action. She merely raised one perfect eyebrow, her lips parting slightly.
"Is there a problem?"
The smile on Seo Ji-woo's face widened even further, becoming a predatory grin. He let out a small shrug, then, rather than sitting, he casually unbuttoned his suit jacket and began to pace.
"To all of you," he began, his voice projecting to the room, "you are, by my research, the most elite Reincarnators our nation of Korea has to offer. I have invited you here today because it is time we discussed a matter of grave importance... a matter that only we, the elite, can truly decide."
Lee Chae-rin's eyes were cold, her mind a steel trap, analyzing him.
She was calculating his strength, his threat.
There was very little information on the [Mind-Game Assembly] in the Nexus. After receiving the invitation last night, she had immediately contacted her most trusted info brokers. All they knew was that it was a local, Korea-based assembly, and all its members were Korean nationals.
The Assembly's leader—presumably this man—was known to be ferociously violent.
And yet... he had never been given the official Nexus designation of a "Vicious Man."
This painted a very specific, dark psychological profile. It meant his cruelty wasn't directed at other Reincarnators, which was the only thing the Nexus tracked for that title. His cruelty was directed at others. At mortals. At the helpless inhabitants of the story-worlds.
He's not a warrior, she concluded. He's a psycho. A sadist who gets off on slaughtering the weak to vent his desires.
The only piece of information that truly mattered, the one that had made her agree to come, was a single, persistent rumor: the leader of the Mind-Game Assembly was a [Cardholder], a "Special" Reincarnator who possessed a unique, unclassified ability.
"Hmph," a rough voice suddenly snorted from the corner.
A man, bundled in a heavy coat despite the room's temperature, was sitting by the window. He wore a dark brown fedora, the brim pulled so low it completely obscured his face. His hands were jammed deep in his pockets.
His paranoia was a physical shroud.
"Even if this woman is the 'Moon Fiend' you claim she is... what are you talking about? 'Deciding the fate of a nation?' Look at us! None of us are even Titled-rank Reincarnators. It's... it's absurd."
Lee Chae-rin remained silent. She simply crossed one leg over the other, an empress on her throne, looking as if she owned the very room.
Seo Ji-woo did not get angry at being challenged. He just smiled, continuing his slow, casual stroll between his guests.
"Titled-rank Reincarnators?" he mused, as if the concept bored him. "They're just a bunch of old-timers who got lucky and capitalized on the Nexus's early-day loopholes. Tell me... are they really... all that strong?"
As he spoke, a deep, crimson light began to glow from the Nexus Mark on the back of his right hand.
The man in the fedora reacted as if he'd been electrocuted.
"YOU—!" he roared, leaping to his feet.
The hat flew off, revealing a face that was grotesquely twisted and inhuman. His features were stretched and sharp, like those of a giant, predatory bird. In the center of his forehead, a single, amber-like crystal was embedded in his flesh.
He was the one who had seen Seo Ji-woo in action before. He was the one who knew this man, this "Director," was a monster obsessed with killing. He had been on a hair-trigger from the moment he walked in.
In an instant of pure panic, several perfect, black orbs—each one a void that seemed to drink the light—materialized in the air around him. With a violent shudder, he shot them outward in all directions.
Fzzt! Fzzt! Fzzt!
A series of soft, sickening sounds filled the room. Everywhere the black orbs touched, matter simply... ceased to exist. They didn't explode; they erased, leaving behind perfect, sphere-shaped holes in the walls, the floor, and the expensive furniture.
One of the orbs shot directly at Lee Chae-rin's head.
She didn't even flinch. She simply... tilted her head to the side, with a look of supreme boredom, and let the orb pass by. It struck the wall behind her, instantly vaporizing a one-meter-wide sphere of concrete and rebar.
The other Reincarnators scrambled for their lives, their faces pale with terror. This was an exceptionally high-tier ability—a power over space itself.
The "Bird-Man" knew he had overreacted, but he didn't care. He had seen this crimson light before. He would not be caught.
He threw himself backward, launching his body directly through the massive hole his own attack had just created in the building's exterior wall, plummeting toward the open air thirty-three stories above the street.
Seo Ji-woo just watched him go, slowly shaking his head with a look of profound disappointment.
"If you didn't trust me... why did you even bother to show up?"
The crimson light on his hand exploded in a blinding flash.
In the exact same instant, a colossal, semi-translucent serpent, formed entirely of scarlet-red energy, burst from the broken wall. It moved faster than thought, striking the falling Bird-Man in mid-air.
It bit down.
And in the next instant, it retracted, yanking the man back into the room.
The scarlet light vanished.
The only thing that remained was the Bird-Man's corpse, which fell to the carpet with a wet, heavy thud. His throat had been completely torn out.
A few seconds later, his body dissolved into a Crimson Drop Card.
Seo Ji-woo turned back to the remaining, horrified guests. He shrugged, his handsome face still fixed with that same, placid smile.
"That man was so... uncouth. He truly didn't deserve a seat at our table."
Lee Chae-rin's eyes were fixed on the card, her expression hidden.
That power... that was his [Card]'s ability?
And then, a memory, cold and sharp, pierced her mind. A memory from when she was being corrupted, being broken, by the [God Hand].
She had seen... Kaito Shirogane's right hand...
It had been glowing with that exact same crimson light.
They... her mind whispered, are they both from the same Sequence?
Is he...
The chapter's title echoed in her head. Another... Great Sin.
Ssssk—
A spike of pure, unadulterated agony shot through her nervous system. The slave-curse. The mere thought of Kaito in a way that could be construed as analysis—as a threat—had triggered the punishment.
She gasped, her body tensing, and she immediately, forcibly blanked her mind.
But the flicker of pain, that momentary, infinitesimal loss of composure...
Seo Ji-woo saw it.
His smile didn't change, but his eyes narrowed, becoming cold, reptilian, and intensely dangerous.
Is Moon Fiend... compromised? Is she not... at her best?
Unconsciously, his own killing intent, no longer playful, began to saturate the air.
Simultaneously, in the Myanmar Border Region...
"Hello?"
Kaito Shirogane flicked open the ancient, burner-style cell phone he hadn't used in ages. He was mildly surprised it even had a signal, let alone that someone was calling him.
"Is this... Kaito Shirogane-kun?" a woman's voice asked, hesitant and now somewhat unfamiliar.
"Ah... Officer Akiyama. It's been a while."
"Yes! Kaito-kun, I'm calling... well, my master, Inspector Sato, he said that things have been very unstable in the Northern Myanmar region recently. You found a job over in Yunnan, right? That's so close to the border. I just... I wanted to warn you. If you can, you should probably stay far away from that area."
The young police officer's voice was deadly serious. She was genuinely calling out of a sense of friendship, to warn him of the danger. It was definitely not for any other, more personal reason.
SQUELCH.
Kaito finished pulling the massive, pitch-black Dragonslayer from the chest of a uniformed man. The corpse, now only held together by a few inches of skin and spine, finally stopped twitching. It collapsed to the floor in a gushing torrent of its own blood.
"Oh?" Kaito-kun said into the phone, his voice casual. "What's been happening in the Myanmar region?"
He calmly stepped over the corpse, the Dragonslayer resting on his shoulder. He glanced around the operations room. The floor was a river of blood, littered with the butchered, dismembered bodies of two dozen armed men. He shook his head slightly, a flicker of disappointment, and walked toward the last, hidden steel door in the back of the room.
"My master said some kind of... psycho... a serial killer, has appeared there. He's been behind a string of massacres. His reputation has actually gotten so bad it's spread back to our country."
"So just... stay away, okay? It's just a job. You can find work anywhere. The Eastern Federation is a big place, you know."
Kaito-kun nodded along, making agreeable sounds. "Mhm, yeah, you're right. That's good advice."
He stopped in front of the reinforced steel security door. He listened for a moment.
Then, he lifted the Dragonslayer and plunged it straight through the half-inch-thick steel.
SHIIII-THUNK!
A wet, high-pressure gurgle and a fresh spray of blood erupted from the new hole.
The sound was loud and distinct, even over the cheap phone's speaker.
"Kaito-kun?! What was that noise?!" Mizuki's voice was sharp with alarm.
"Hm? Oh, nothing," Kaito said, pulling his sword back. "Just a client here who drank way too much. He's... ah... throwing up. It's pretty messy."
He spun a few more casual lies, easily placating the well-intentioned Officer Akiyama, and ended the call.
He hung up, pocketed the phone, and put away the Dragonslayer. He tilted his head, listening to the silence of the compound.
After a long moment, he was satisfied. This camp was now completely, officially, empty of all living things.
He turned and walked away from the carnage, not looking back.
A quiet notification chimed, visible only to him.
[Satsui no Hado has leveled up. Current: Lv2]