By noon, the sky had cleared.
The clouds parted like a curtain, and the sun spilled down on Seoul's polished buildings and humming streets. Normal people laughed, argued, lived.
Yi Ji-Hyuk walked among them like a phantom.
The fight in the alley hadn't shaken him. What disturbed him more was how easy it had been — how natural it still felt to kill. Even after returning to Earth, his body obeyed those old instincts instantly. No hesitation. No mercy.
You shouldn't have followed me, he'd said. But the truth was worse.
The creature hadn't followed him. It had come after him.
Which meant someone — or something — in Berafe knew he was gone. And they weren't content to leave him in peace.
He needed information. A lead. Anything.
He made his way toward the quieter end of the city — the alleys and side roads where forgotten people whispered strange truths. In Berafe, knowledge was guarded like treasure. Here, it was buried beneath neon signs and tired eyes. But Ji-Hyuk had learned how to dig.
The place he found was called Yeonho's Curiosities — a narrow shop squeezed between a laundromat and a bakery, the sign barely hanging on its hooks. No windows. No hours listed. Just a faint hum of mana in the air.
He stepped inside.
A bell jingled overhead. The smell hit him first — incense, dust, and something metallic.
Behind the counter stood an old man, thin and wiry, wearing tinted glasses despite being indoors. He didn't look surprised.
"You don't belong here," the man said without looking up.
Ji-Hyuk raised an eyebrow. "Neither do you."
That got his attention. The man lowered his glasses just enough to meet Ji-Hyuk's gaze — and his eyes widened slightly. Just a flicker. But Ji-Hyuk caught it.
"…Berafe?" the man whispered.
Ji-Hyuk nodded.
The old man looked him up and down, then motioned him closer. "Lock the door."
Ji-Hyuk obeyed. The bolt slid into place with a soft click.
"Name's Yeonho," the old man said. "I run this little sanctuary for… people like us."
"Like us?"
"People who know the veil between worlds is thinner than anyone wants to admit."
Ji-Hyuk leaned on the counter. "Something followed me through. Tried to kill me."
Yeonho paled. "Describe it."
"Gray skin. Slitted eyes. Stealth magic."
Yeonho's voice dropped. "A Shadeborn. They're Berafe's scavengers — not strong alone, but they never move without someone else pulling the strings."
"Who controls them?"
Yeonho hesitated. "…You've been gone a long time, haven't you?"
Ji-Hyuk didn't answer.
"There's something stirring across the veil," Yeonho continued. "We used to get the occasional flicker of energy — some unstable gate, a whisper of a forgotten name. But lately? It's different. Organized. Directed."
Ji-Hyuk's eyes narrowed. "Someone's trying to open a permanent passage."
Yeonho nodded grimly. "And if they succeed… Earth won't survive it."
The news settled into Ji-Hyuk's mind like a blade into flesh.
Berafe was trying to bleed into Earth. He had spent centuries escaping that cursed world, only to find it clawing at the edges of this one.
Yeonho handed him something — a small, smooth stone etched with a rune. "Concealment charm. It'll help you keep your aura under wraps. Better than your current method. You're leaking power like a cracked dam."
Ji-Hyuk accepted it silently and slipped it into his pocket.
"Why help me?" he asked.
Yeonho gave a crooked smile. "Because I've seen what happens when monsters come through. We need someone like you on this side. Someone they fear."
Ji-Hyuk didn't answer. He didn't know if he wanted to be that person anymore.
But maybe he didn't have a choice.
As night fell, he returned to the rooftop room he had rented with the hospital's release stipend. It was small — one room, a mattress, a desk, and a window that overlooked the city skyline.
He liked it.
It reminded him of a time before everything fell apart.
He sat by the window again, watching the lights flicker across glass towers. Somewhere, far below, someone was playing guitar. The sound drifted upward, soft and distant.
Ji-Hyuk closed his eyes.
For a moment, he let himself imagine a life here. A real one. Wake up, eat, work, sleep. Maybe make friends. Maybe pretend to be someone who'd never even heard of Berafe.
But the moment shattered when a familiar sensation crawled up his spine.
Not killing intent — not yet — but something nearby was gathering mana. Sloppily. Loudly. Like a child playing with a grenade.
He stood, grabbed the concealment charm, and leapt from the window.
He landed soundlessly in the alley three floors below.
A flash of light drew his eye — violet arcs of unstable energy cracking through the air like spiderwebs.
A figure stood in the alley's center — young, maybe twenty, clutching a grimoire. Sweat poured down his face as he chanted in broken Old Berafian.
"Stop," Ji-Hyuk said firmly.
The youth froze. Then turned, startled. "Wh-who are you?"
"Someone who knows what you're doing will get you killed. Or worse."
The air warped. The spell activated — not from intent, but from panic.
Ji-Hyuk cursed under his breath and stepped forward. The energy snapped outward — wild, uncontrolled. A rift tore open for half a second.
And something looked back.
Ji-Hyuk reached the boy just in time, slamming his palm against the rift and sealing it with a surge of power.
The air returned to stillness.
The boy collapsed, unconscious.
Ji-Hyuk stood over him, eyes hard.
Earth wasn't ready.
But Berafe didn't care.
And the war… was beginning again.
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