Seoul was alive.
Not in the small-town kind of way, where life was slow and familiar, but in a relentless, pulsing rhythm that seemed to crawl under the skin. Neon signs blinked in chaotic colors, the air was a cocktail of sizzling street food and exhaust fumes, and somewhere in the distance, a busker's guitar tried to compete with the roar of traffic.
Seth blended in easily enough—silver-white hair hidden under a black hoodie, pale golden eyes behind tinted glasses. To the countless people moving past him, he was just another tourist carrying a paper cup of steaming coffee.
But beneath that quiet stroll, his mind was constantly turning. His last battle in Japan was still fresh—blood, rubble, and divine essence evaporating into the air. The gods had felt it. He was sure of that.
For now, though, he chose to pretend otherwise.
---
Days of Calm Before the Storm
For the next few days, Seth let himself sink into the city's heartbeat.
He rode the cable car up to Namsan Tower, watching the skyline glitter beneath a pale winter sun. The icy wind caught his hair, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself the indulgence of silence—no swords, no gods, no corpses.
He wandered through Gwangjang Market, weaving between cramped stalls where ahjummas shoved samples of bindaetteok into his hands and vendors called out prices for silk hanboks. He tried tteokbokki so spicy it made his eyes water, and hotteok so sweet the syrup burned his tongue.
At night, he stood on Banpo Bridge, watching the Moonlight Rainbow Fountain spray arcs of illuminated water into the Han River. Couples took selfies, kids clutched glowing balloons, and Seth… simply watched.
It was all so normal. Almost peaceful.
Almost.
On the fourth day, Seth was walking through Bukchon Hanok Village, the narrow alleyways lined with traditional Korean houses, when the Godslayer System sliced into his vision.
[System Alert]
The god's avatar (He Who Feeds) is watching.
The divine god has departed Earth.
The text glowed crimson for a few heartbeats, then faded.
Seth stopped mid-step. The winter air seemed colder now, biting at his skin. Slowly, the corners of his lips pulled into a sharp, humorless smile.
"No matter what you are…" his voice was quiet, but the words dripped with intent. "…if you're related to my enemy… I shall kill you. No matter what."
It started as a change in the wind.
The cold breeze twisted violently, whipping through the alley with enough force to make paper lanterns snap on their strings. Roof tiles rattled.
And then—
BOOM!
The ground split as a figure smashed into the cobblestones ahead, dust and shards of stone exploding outward. Tourists screamed and scrambled back, phones clattering to the ground.
The man straightened slowly, brushing a bit of rubble from the shoulder of his black coat. Blonde hair caught the sunlight, swaying lazily in the wind as if untouched by the chaos he'd just caused. His smile was slow, deliberate… wrong.
"Well," the stranger said lightly, his tone far too casual for the destruction around him. "Hey there… Godslayer."
Seth's eyes narrowed.
"Ohhh… are you the avatar?"
The man's smile twitched wider. "Ohhh, to think the Godslayer knows me."
The way he said it made Seth's skin prickle—not in fear, but in a discomfort he rarely felt. The man didn't blink. His gaze was steady, almost hungry, and the stillness between his movements felt… unnatural.
"You're creepy," Seth said flatly. "Are you here to fight and be killed by me?"
The man stepped forward, boots crunching against broken stone. Despite the unsettling air around him, his movements were elegant—measured, deliberate, like a predator that didn't need to rush.
"My name," he said slowly, "is Sung Siyoon." He paused, letting the name hang in the air. "And no… I'm not here to fight you."
Seth's fingers twitched slightly at his side, itching for the Red Moons, but he didn't draw them yet.
Sung Siyoon leaned forward just enough for his shadow to fall across Seth's shoes. "I'm just here to inform you…" His voice softened, almost a whisper, though every word was perfectly clear. "…that in a few days' time… you die."
The smile never left his face.
For a moment, the street was dead quiet. Even the tourists who had fled to the far end of the alley seemed frozen, phones raised but too afraid to move closer.
Seth didn't flinch. He met Sung Siyoon's gaze and let the tension linger.
Finally, he chuckled. "If you think I'm just going to wait around for that, you don't know me at all."
Sung Siyoon tilted his head, that same eerie smile plastered across his face, as though Seth's defiance amused him. "We'll see."
And just like that—he was gone. No flash of light, no burst of energy. One blink and the space where he stood was empty, dust still hanging in the air.