STS Ch 2

That was all there was to the nightmare—an unfamiliar man reciting some incomprehensible prayer. But whenever he had that dream, Kwon Yi-hyun felt like he would go insane despite having done nothing wrong.

The man praying with solemn grace was locked in a cage like a beast guilty of sin, yet he was neither pathetic nor desperate. Even confined in a filthy cage, he remained aloof and arrogantly dignified.

It was Kwon Yi-hyun who felt imprisoned. In the dream, he repeatedly experienced the sensation of being strangled.

Each time it happened, the man would stop praying and stare directly at Yi-hyun.

His chilling red eyes, glimpsed through long white hair, had such domineering power it felt as if they could devour a person whole. And when their eyes met, Kwon Yi-hyun became paralyzed. He could do nothing else—only stare at the man, as if nothing beyond that was permitted.

It was like being caught in sleep paralysis. And Kwon Yi-hyun thought the experience in real life wasn’t much different. A dogshit dream. Even though the man had never made a single threatening move toward him…

Even the slightest tilt of the man’s chin was dangerous. Every nerve in Kwon Yi-hyun’s body screamed that if this isn’t a threat, then what is? Cold sweat dripped down as if to warn him to run away, and a chill ran up his spine. Yet the dream seemed designed to torment him—he couldn’t move his gaze an inch.

In the end, all he could do was stare.

The man inside the cage had broad shoulders and a well-built frame, but his waist tapered slim like a feline predator. His skin was like pale rice paper with a single drop of blood spilled on it, and his hair was a pure, stark white. His dark red lips moved ever so slightly, uttering something that might have been a smile or might have been a sob, as he whispered—

“Binani, Binani, Biomnani.”

Each time he had that dream, Kwon Yi-hyun felt like a piece of his life was being scraped away. The man’s overwhelming presence crushed him and seemed to drain the very life out of him. Though the man didn’t lift a finger, Kwon Yi-hyun couldn’t shake the sensation.

‘I’ll go insane at this rate.’

Counting each torturous night with bloodshot eyes, last night marked the ninety-eighth time he’d had the dream. No psychiatric visit or sleeping pill helped.

He’d even gotten some weird talisman from a shaman—despite not believing in that stuff—but nothing changed. Salt had been scattered thousands of times, to no avail. Every single night was the same. He felt like he was going to die. Kwon Yi-hyun had grown so gaunt he was skin and bones.

Whether he believed in shamanism or not no longer mattered. At this point, he was ready to cling to any rotten lifeline.

‘Come on, she wouldn’t charge her own grandson that much for a talisman, right?’

He’d only ever called to say hello before, but now, finally back in Cheongna, he began to climb the mountain—a large one. As he climbed, a chill crept over him.

Was it always this cold and eerie here? Wrapped in a fear he couldn’t quite explain, Kwon Yi-hyun continued up the mountain. Though stones marked the path for hikers, the air was unsettling. As a child, he’d run through this forest joyfully. How had he done so in such a bizarre and eerie place? The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became—it hadn’t been this cold, this unwelcoming back then.

Maybe it was just the early autumn chill. Yi-hyun clicked his tongue and tried to leave it at that, not wanting to delve deeper into a conversation he didn’t even believe in. But then—

“…Huh?”

Yi-hyun spotted a man collapsed down the hill.

He must’ve slipped and fallen while climbing. In this weather, anyone left lying here would die… No way!

Kwon Yi-hyun threw himself down, sliding awkwardly to reach the man. His hands trembled, but he resisted the urge to shake the stranger awake—despite knowing nothing about first aid. Instead, he shouted for help at the top of his lungs.

“Hey! Are you okay? Uncle! Auntie! Someone help! There’s a man down here! Please! Isn’t anyone around? Wake up! Please… please wake up!”

Simultaneously, he scanned the area carefully. No blood on the ground—so at least it didn’t seem the man had cracked his head open.

His hair was stark white, and yet—there wasn’t a single drop of blood.

But in the very next instant, the man’s eyes suddenly flew open—and Kwon Yi-hyun’s face drained of all color.

The dream flashed vividly through his mind.

‘Now that I think of it… this guy has white hair too…’

His eyes, like hardened drops of blood, glinted sensuously.

‘He looks exactly like the man in the dream.’

That crimson smile blooming like a camellia flower in snow—it left his limbs paralyzed, as if electrocuted. Horrified, he tried to flee backward. But his arm was caught. Long nails dug into his skin, and just as dizzying pain began to surge—

Then the man from his dreams spoke.

“Caught you.”

Kwon Yi-hyun jolted awake.

It felt like he had been submerged underwater and suddenly raised his head in one breath.

But something was strange. Yi-hyun clearly remembered climbing the mountain, yet when he opened his eyes, he was merely on a forest path at the foot of the mountain.

As if all the mountain climbing Yi-hyun had done until now was invalid.

‘As if it had all just been… a dream.’

At least one thing brought him a bit of comfort—his aunt, uncle, and grandmother were gathered nearby. Even if he didn’t believe in shamanism, his family sure did, and they were well-versed in that stuff. Surely, nothing bad would happen.

But there was something strange about his family’s eyes..

They stood wielding bizarre, threatening-looking tools, aiming them in his direction with wary, hostile eyes.

‘Did something happen?’

Honestly, Kwon Yi-hyun was half amused, half terrified. He couldn’t yet grasp what was happening. Like—imagine a Buddhist monk trying to attack someone with a wooden gong.  In Yi-hyun’s eyes, his relatives were holding items they used during whatever shamanistic rituals and exorcisms, appearing hostile toward the direction where Yi-hyun stood. Bewildered and scared, Yi-hyun tried to approach them. But his forearm hurt.

Yi-hyun turned his head, and their eyes met.

“Did you have a nice dream?”

He couldn’t even scream. The man’s presence was too overpowering. Instead of stumbling back in fear, Kwon Yi-hyun found himself… captivated.

When a perfume bottle breaks, the scent becomes so intense it immediately overwhelms the sense of smell. Beautiful and terrible fascination… If one were to define the man’s magical power, it would be like that shattered perfume bottle.

A brutal and violent aesthetic, reigning supreme under his control.