2.

[April 13. A disaster at Gwanghwamun Samgeori¹resulted in the deaths of two A-rank Disaster Hunter agents, three C-rank agents, and seven F-rank Stabilizer agents from the Disaster Safety Bureau….]
Drip.

Seong Ji-ha blankly looked toward the sound, unaware that soup was dripping from the spoon in his hand.

The employee cafeteria’s television continued broadcasting the news. Seong Ji-ha furrowed his brows. A groan welled up in his throat. April 13, Gwanghwamun Samgeori—that was the site he’d been at.

“Ji-ha hyung, weren’t you dispatched to Gwanghwamun Samgeori last Friday?”

At his coworker’s curious remark, Seong Ji-ha quickly snapped out of it and shrugged casually.

“Ah… I was on my way there, but I got redirected to Jongno.”

“Team leader, me, and the others went to Gwanghwamun. That site was too big for you to handle alone anyway. Just dismantling the remains took forever. They called in eight corpse collection trucks.”

A sharp voice interrupted. It was Jeong Seon-ho—someone Seong Ji-ha was ashamed to even call a colleague, more of a bad connection. He set his tray down diagonally across from Ji-ha and sat.

Why sit at the same table if you hate me that much? And eight trucks? You’d need at least twenty just to clear that mess. Seong Ji-ha swallowed a sigh and replied as if uninterested.

“With that many casualties, the site must’ve been brutal.”

“It wasn’t that serious. They got completely wiped out by one oversized snake. Bet they slacked off on their prep or got too cocky.”

“…?”

Seong Ji-ha narrowed his eyes slightly.

An oversized snake? Its head alone was three times the size of a human’s, and its massive body had not only filled Gwanghwamun Samgeori but also wrapped around and crushed an entire building.

“Really? It was just a snake with a big head?”

He asked mildly. Jeong Seon-ho scowled.

“What kind of question is that? You trying to say the team leader and I screwed up? You’re not seriously going to start rambling about energy again, are you?”

Jeong Seon-ho scoffed.

“Energy?”

A coworker across the table echoed him. As if he’d been waiting for it, Seon-ho immediately bit down on the bait.

“You probably don’t know since you’re new, but this bastard—about a year ago, a turtle-like disaster appeared over near Cheongwadae-ro². Thing was massive. Caused a huge commotion. Our entire team went to handle it, and Ji-ha here suddenly got all serious, saying, ‘This isn’t the body of a disaster. It looks like a mountain guardian deity twisted into a disaster by evil energy.’ Then he suggested we offer it a glass of water and send it off with a simple ritual. Can you believe that? A mountain deity? Completely insane.”

“Really? Ji-ha hyung, that’s a wild story.”

Seong Ji-ha shrugged and lowered his head. He wished it would stop there, but Jeong Seon-ho, relentless as ever, started digging into every possible story. Ji-ha ignored the eyes turning toward him and quietly continued eating.

“He’s been known for being weird since high school. You’ve got to be pretty eccentric to stand out like that.”

“Oh, right. You two went to high school together.”

“College too. Though he dropped out midway.”

Seon-ho jerked his chin toward him, and the coworker’s eyes widened in interest. Ji-ha felt the lump of rice he’d just swallowed stick hard in his throat. Enough with the college talk already. Doesn’t that bastard ever get tired?

“Wow… So you went to Kyungha University³ too, Ji-ha hyung.”

The amazed tone was familiar. It clearly meant: how did someone who got into such a prestigious university end up doing backbreaking work in a place like this, where no one has anything nice to say about him? Ji-ha’s hand clenched tighter around his spoon without him even realizing it.

“Seriously, he’s such a weirdo. After he dropped out of college, he just vanished, and turns out—surprise—he’s working as a purifier here. I have no idea what goes on in his head. I mean, I’m only doing this as a step toward becoming a deputy manager.”

As he spoke, Jeong Seon-ho stared straight at Seong Ji-ha, silently pressing him to finally explain why he’d become a purifier.

Seong Ji-ha shoved another bite of rice into his mouth. The unwanted stare pierced through him, but it wasn’t worth caring about. He and Jeong Seon-ho had no real connection anymore. Not that it mattered—Ji-ha had no intention of explaining why someone who wanted nothing to do with disasters ended up in a job like this.

“It’s not like you got shot in the head, so what gives? Did you drown in loan shark debt? Or is someone blackmailing you?”

When Seong Ji-ha remained silent, refusing to engage, Seon-ho grew frustrated and kept pushing.

“Wow, a deputy manager. Seon-ho hyung, that’s amazing. I heard it’s super hard to make it to Grade 7 in disaster-related civil service. And they say Grade 7 disaster officials are treated like Grade 5 general civil servants.”

A coworker latched onto the mention of government positions, even setting down his spoon in awe.

“Well, it’s a tough job. We’re dealing with disasters, after all.”

Basking in the admiration, Seon-ho gave a modest shrug—but Seong Ji-ha could see right through it. Even if he played it down, Seon-ho had no doubt studied like a man possessed. He came from a good family, had the brains, and was the type who thrived on effort.

“Besides, to become a deputy manager at the Purification Bureau, you need two full years of field experience as a purifier. Not many people want to go through that.”

“Yeah, this job’s kind of… yeah.”

The coworker slouched and nodded.

“I’m only doing it because I have no choice, but isn’t it kind of humiliating to work as a purifier when you’ve already secured a spot as a deputy manager? People think so poorly of us. They still treat us like disease carriers. Sure, maybe in the old days that made sense because the equipment was terrible, but now? Things have changed, and they still look at us like that. The work is hard, and the image sucks. Forget two years—most people run off before even six months.”

“This isn’t about pride. This is just the beginning for me. Deputy manager isn’t my end goal.”

Seon-ho chuckled and gave another shrug.

“Huh? Really?”

“My goal is to become an administrative officer in the Disaster Safety Bureau. But regular folks can’t just get in. Even for desk jobs, they only accept ‘awakened’ individuals. If you’re not one, you need ten years of experience in a disaster-related agency just to be eligible. So yeah, I’ll have to grind it out as a deputy manager for the next ten years.”

“Wow… your whole life plan is—wait, should I even be calling you hyung? I guess I should be saying Deputy Manager instead. That title’s yours in a few months.”

The coworker, who had been glowing with admiration, suddenly sagged with a sigh.

“Ugh, maybe I should start studying for the civil service exam too. I’m not smart like you, so I won’t be much, but if I shoot for Grade 9, maybe I can pull it off with a few years of hard work. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. People always look down on this job. It smells. And being contract-based means the pay never goes up… Just the other day, my neighbor found out I work for the Purification Bureau and now sprays alcohol outside her door every time I walk past. Like seriously, what the hell.”

“If you’re going to start studying, come to my guest lecture at our university in a few months. I’m planning to give some solid tips to the underclassmen.”

“I’m not a student there, though. Is that okay?”

“I’ll get you an invite.”

With the air of a dependable senior, Jeong Seon-ho patted the coworker on the shoulder. Seong Ji-ha ignored him and ducked his head even lower.

Thanks to Seon-ho constantly bringing up school, Ji-ha had lost his appetite entirely. He stared at his half-finished tray and sighed.

That bastard was doing it on purpose. Following him around all the time, pestering him about why he became a purifier, why he was wasting his life like this—it was getting exhausting. Ji-ha had kept his mouth shut out of the last shred of old attachment, but he was at his limit.

Of all places, why did they have to run into each other here of all places? What a cursed connection. If he hated him so much, he could’ve just ignored him. Pulling his cap low out of habit, Seong Ji-ha grabbed his tray and tried to stand.

“Found you.”

“…?”

At the voice above his head, he instinctively looked up—only for his hat to be snatched off before he could move. Ji-ha reflexively grabbed at his now-exposed head.

“You really do work here.”

He swallowed hard.

Above him stood a man with fierce eyes locked onto his. Eyes so unforgettable that even one glance was burned into memory—those triple-sclera eyes.

Yoo Sung-woo.

Seong Ji-ha remembered the man’s full name. The inside of his skull rang like a disaster alert siren. A chill raced down his spine.

He’s here. I’m screwed. How did he find me? Why is he even looking for me?

As he hesitated, more and more heads turned in their direction. Yoo Sung-woo’s tall frame stood out. Someone whispered the name of that actor Ji-ha had once compared him to. But with the hat off, Yoo Sung-woo’s face wasn’t just actor-level—it was dangerous. If that actor played a vampire, this guy was the real thing. If such creatures actually existed.

“An S-rank? No way, seriously?”

Jeong Seon-ho’s voice broke in. A gold stripe would catch attention anywhere. Especially to someone like Seon-ho, who dreamed of working for the Disaster Safety Bureau, Yoo Sung-woo must’ve looked like a god. S-rank. S-rank. Whispers spread, and all eyes converged.

Seong Ji-ha frowned. Maybe this S-rank didn’t mind being stared at with envy and curiosity, but Ji-ha did. His goal in life was to be quiet, unnoticed, and low-key. This attention made his skin crawl. He stood awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable.

“I don’t know what this is about, but I’m not the person you’re looking fo—”

“Shut up. You saw the disaster, didn’t you—”

“Wait!”

Before Yoo Sung-woo could finish, Seong Ji-ha grabbed him and yanked him away.

Seong Ji-ha shoved Yoo Sung-woo into the emergency stairwell and peeked through the crack of the door, checking both directions. Thankfully, no one had followed them. He let out a sigh of relief and shut the door. Damn S-rank bastard—his heart had nearly dropped out of his chest.

“I don’t know why you came all the way here, but if it’s to say thank you, that’s really not necessary.”

Scratching the back of his neck, Ji-ha turned to face him. This was annoying, so he just needed to wrap it up quickly and kick this S-rank nuisance out. High-ranking ability users were always too conspicuous—that was the problem.

“Thank you? You think this looks like a thank-you visit?”

Leaning against the wall, Yoo Sung-woo narrowed his brows.

“Ah… but I did save—”

The sentence—“your life”—died before it could leave his lips. Ji-ha swallowed hesitantly. No one could know about his ability. Especially not someone from a national agency.

“What did you do to me that day?”

“…Sorry?”

When Ji-ha hesitated and echoed the question, Yoo Sung-woo suddenly began unbuttoning his shirt. Frozen stiff, Ji-ha looked back and forth between Yoo Sung-woo and the shirt. His fingers moved without pause.

“Uh, sorry, but we’re not really… like that, are we?”

Trying to play it off as a joke, Ji-ha awkwardly reached out to stop him. But Yoo Sung-woo ignored him and flung open his shirt. Ji-ha instinctively stepped back—then froze, eyes widening. His pupils quivered slightly.

What the hell is that—?
Why does it look like that—?

“You can see it too, can’t you?”

Yoo Sung-woo pointed to a glowing round mass near the top of his chest.

Huh?

Ji-ha’s eyes, which had been distracted and drifting lower, finally moved to the spot Yoo Sung-woo was actually indicating. His expression turned sour, his mouth falling open. This time, he was shocked for another reason.

From that pale, glowing orb—he could faintly feel his own energy. Without question, it was the energy he had infused.

Shit.
Why hadn’t the Spirit Core disappeared?

He’d only purified the disaster. He thought it wouldn’t affect anything else.

“What the hell is this? You did this to me.”

“That’s… uh, it’s called a Spirit Core.”

Ji-ha’s mouth went dry.

“Spirit Core?”

“It’s when a person’s energy takes physical form.”

A vein throbbed on Yoo Sung-woo’s forehead.

“Anyway, you’re alive now. If I’d left you like that, you really would’ve died. The ‘Serpent Disaster’ was especially venomous…”

As he hurried to explain, Ji-ha trailed off again. The more he said, the worse it got for him. Unspoken words spun endlessly in his mouth.

“What even is that ability? And more importantly, why are you working in a place like this when you have something like that?”

“Even if you’re an S-rank agent, that doesn’t give you the right to look down on the Purification Bureau. People call us disease carriers, sure, but if we weren’t around, who would clean up those wretched disasters? It’s filthy, and it reeks, but someone has to—”

“I’m saying that because someone with powers is working as a purifier. What is this? Does the Agent Oversight Bureau know about you? They don’t waste people like this.”

His heart sank like a stone.

“Don’t tell me—you’ve been hiding your ability?”

Yoo Sung-woo raised an eyebrow.

Shit. He slipped up.

Seong Ji-ha clenched his fists. Damned perceptive bastard. If he just slugged him in the head, would he pass out? Could he knock him out and run for it…?

Reckless thoughts circled in Ji-ha’s head—foolish, especially when the man in front of him was an S-rank.

Suddenly, a phone rang.

Yoo Sung-woo checked his pocket and scowled at the screen.

“…Of all times…”

“Well, since you’re busy, I’ll just be on my—”

Ji-ha was already backing away, trying to slip out—but before he could take more than a few steps, his collar was suddenly grabbed. He was yanked forward and slammed into the wall. The shock hit hard, and Ji-ha coughed, groaning.

“Now that I know where you work, I’ll see you again. Don’t run—it’s no fun if you do.”

Yoo Sung-woo muttered in a low, chilling voice and released him.

Ji-ha slumped down to the floor with a thud. Yoo Sung-woo looked down at him with indifference, then turned and walked away.