Chapter 2

Creeeak. Creeeak.

Rustle. Rustle.

Entrusted to the wooden rocking chair, Han Seong-jun continued to read. Beside him, nearly a thousand books were piled up like a graveyard.

Yet, no matter how much he read, the books in the library never decreased. Even at this very moment, new ones were being replenished.

Just how much time had elapsed since he had awakened in the library?

From the moment he first opened his eyes until now, the newly appeared books alone numbered in the hundreds. Assuming one book appeared a day, a simple calculation meant that hundreds of days had already passed.

Despite this, Seong-jun simply went about reading without a care in the world.

If anyone else were to witness Seong-jun like this, they would undoubtedly feel a sense of incongruity—perhaps even revulsion. Humanity was, by nature, a social creature. No matter how capable one was of living alone, without any form of interaction, the human mind would eventually fracture.

And yet, for over hundreds of days, Seong-jun had lived without a single interaction, all alone, doing nothing but reading. It almost looked as though ‘something’ had slipped into the skin of a human named Han Seong-jun, mimicking what it meant to be him.

Yet Seong-jun did not care. As long as he could read books, he was satisfied—and that, in itself, was the true essence of what it meant to be Han Seong-jun.

Except…

“Haa—.”

Immersed in his reading for a long while, Seong-jun let out a deep sigh and closed his book. His slightly furrowed brow showed that his mood was far from pleasant.

What was grating on Seong-jun’s nerves was the noise.

A commotion was echoing from somewhere. Faint screams, wild shrieks, and the sharp sound of something being violently swung—a chaotic racket. Surely, anyone with a sound mind would know that maintaining silence was basic etiquette in a library.

So who on earth was making such an uproar in a place meant to be quiet?

‘Well. Even in a library, a little bit of noise is bound to happen.’

Seong-jun forced himself to brush off the noise and tried to open a new book.

However.

The faint screams and the whistling cuts of sharp blades did not stop.

“Haa—.”

Before he could even read a single page, Seong-jun closed his book and let out another deep sigh.

Creeeak—.

Seong-jun rose from the rocking chair and walked forward. The book in his hand, as well as the graveyard of books piled near the chair, fluttered through the air in rhythm with his steps, flying back to their original places on the shelves.

Arriving right at the dead center of the library—the spot where a new book always appeared with the turn of a day—Seong-jun made a gesture.

Smoothly. And cleanly.

As Seong-jun’s hand traced an elegant arc through the empty air, a wooden door materialized before him.

Depending on one’s perspective, it could look beautiful, neat, graceful, or even grand. But to Seong-jun’s eyes, it was merely a wooden door. It held no value or meaning; it was simply a door, used by definition to enter somewhere or step out from somewhere.

Staring at the door for a brief moment, Seong-jun moved.

Without a shred of hesitation, he grasped the knob, pushed it open, and stepped through.

Thus, for the very first time, Han Seong-jun left the library.

— *

A small, hidden chamber blanketed in dim light.

A change occurred in the room, which usually held nothing more than a single book resting inside a glass case at its exact center.

From the walls on all sides—and even from the ceiling and the floor—countless sheets of paper materialized and scattered. The fluttering papers swirled together in midair, coalescing into the shape of a man.

A man with ash-gray hair and ash-gray eyes. A man wearing a black suit and black shoes.

Formed from thousands and tens of thousands of fluttering pages, Han Seong-jun descended to the floor without a sound, landing as softly and quietly as a single sheet of paper drifting down.

The moment his feet touched the ground, Seong-jun furrowed his brow at an even louder commotion.

Really.

“People these days have no concept of manners.”

The noise was coming from outside the door. Judging by how well-insulated the room appeared to be, just how loudly were these people shouting?

Intending to give these ill-mannered individuals a piece of his mind, Seong-jun stepped out of the chamber.

Beyond the door.

The outside of the chamber was like a maze—a labyrinth made of interlocking steel corridors.

Firmly locked doors lined the hallways at regular intervals, bearing brief descriptions of what was being ‘contained’ inside them. The door Seong-jun had just walked out of was no different.

However.

“It’s noisy.”

As if he couldn’t care less what information was inscribed on the door of the chamber he had just left, Seong-jun simply headed toward the source of the persistent, disruptive noise.

There was no hesitation in his movements. It was as though he knew better than anyone else how and where to walk to reach his desired destination.

However.

The corridor Seong-jun walked down was utterly filthy.

Splatters of red blood stained every surface, and mangled, torn human corpses lay strewn about. The walls, ceiling, and floor were riddled with bullet holes and deep gouges left by sharp, beast-like claws.

Seeing the wreckage, Seong-jun clicked his tongue in disapproval.

Not only were they creating unnecessary noise in a place meant for quiet, but they were also scattering such filth around.

With deep displeasure lingering in his ash-gray eyes, Seong-jun walked down the foul corridor. Before long, he arrived at the source of the uproar.

The epicenter of the chaos was even more of a disaster than Seong-jun had anticipated.

A squad of armed troops wielding pistols and rifles was locked in a firefight with a Level 5 Agent. The armed soldiers kept firing wave after wave of bullets at the agent, who looked entirely defenseless.

Yet, the agent did not die.

Staring blankly at the hail of bullets meant to kill him, he swung something he held in his right hand.

It was a blood-red sword. As the blade traced an elegant arc through the air:

Slash-shing—!

True to the blade’s trajectory, the incoming bullets were sheared apart and dropped to the floor.

“Damn it—!”

“When is reinforcement coming?!”

“Captain! Let’s just run!”

A man so skinny he looked as though he had never exercised a day in his life, clutching an ominous, blood-hued sword. Faced with that bizarre combination, the face of the Foundation’s Suppression Team 5 Captain twisted in despair.

Should they really run, just like his subordinates said?

Can they even run away from that?

The Captain of Suppression Team 5 knew all too well what that sword was. That was precisely why he could say with absolute certainty: they could not escape from it.

Mulling over that uncomfortable, hopeless truth, the Captain gnashed his teeth furiously.

Why on earth did that idiot fail to follow even the most basic containment procedures?!

The Captain forcibly shoved down the surging wave of rage. Now was not the time to be blinded by anger; he needed to figure out how to survive this hellhole, no matter what.

It was then.

Rustle—.

From somewhere, the light sound of a book’s pages turning echoed softly.

Simultaneously.

“What the—!” the Captain cried out in shock.

Between the anomaly and Suppression Team 5 stood a complete stranger.

A man with ash-gray hair and ash-gray eyes, dressed in a black suit and black shoes—Han Seong-jun.

The Captain was startled by his sudden appearance. Was there still a staff member who hadn’t evacuated?

However, Seong-jun’s attire did not fit that of a Sector 5 operative. Nor did it look like that of a researcher or reinforcement troop dispatched by the Foundation.

Even so, the Captain tried to shout:

‘Run away right now!’

At the same time, the Captain’s eyes widened.

Though he tried to yell at the mysterious man who had suddenly barged in to run, no voice came out of his mouth.

That same bizarre phenomenon applied to every single member of Suppression Team 5 as well.

Meanwhile, stepping fully into the source of the noise, Seong-jun raised his hand.

“Everyone, quiet—.”

Placing a straight index finger over his lips, he spoke.

At that instant.

All sound around Seong-jun vanished entirely.

O-oh.

Trapped in absolute, soundless silence, the men could only move their lips, gasping wordlessly.

The members of Suppression Team 5 couldn’t comprehend or accept the sudden turn of events. Only the Captain managed to barely regain a shred of composure—mostly because, as a captain, he had experienced far more than the ordinary squad members. Even then, he was merely suppressing a terror that threatened to burst at the slightest touch.

Amidst the stillness that had settled around him, Seong-jun spoke up alone.

“Silence is the most basic form of courtesy.”

With those words, Seong-jun’s ash-gray eyes shifted to look at the agent—or more precisely, at the sword that had swallowed the agent whole.

A blade whose body was stained an ominous, blood-red, glowing with a bewitching light.

It was a sword Seong-jun recognized. To be exact, it was an anomaly he had read about in a ‘book’.

Commonly referred to as the ‘Executioner’s Beheading Sword’—a weapon historically used by executioners to decapitate condemned criminals.

Its name as an anomaly was:

[The Blood-Drinking Beheading Sword]

As Seong-jun whispered the anomaly’s name, the agent instinctively shrank back and took a step-back.

Suppression Team 5 watched the scene in utter astonishment.

This was Sector 5 of the Foundation—a place that contained and managed Level 5 anomalies. Among them, [The Blood-Drinking Beheading Sword] was one of the most perilous items stored in Sector 5.

Without proper containment procedures, humans would inevitably become enthralled by this beheading sword. Once charmed, a person would crave nothing more than to become the sword’s master. The moment they laid hands on it, it was over.

Human mental fortitude was far too weak to overcome or endure it. They would simply become another monster, swinging the blade in an endless cycle of slaughter.

And yet—

That very same Beheading Sword was acting as though it was terrified?

The Captain stared at Seong-jun with trembling eyes.

Who is this man? Did he use some kind of anomaly to erase all sound around us? No, more importantly…

Is that man really… human?

Just as the Captain of Suppression Team 5 entertained that thought.

“I will not tolerate any further noise. Therefore.”

Go back.

Gleaming with gloomy ash-gray eyes, Seong-jun spoke directly to [The Blood-Drinking Beheading Sword].

Seemingly displeased by Seong-jun’s command-like order, [The Blood-Drinking Beheading Sword] let out a low, humming vibration.

‘Do not give me orders.’

That was what the sword’s reaction seemed to say.

Watching the blade, Seong-jun continued.

“If you refuse to observe even the bare minimum of courtesy…”

From beneath the feet of Seong-jun—the only one speaking in a world of absolute quiet—fog the exact color of his eyes began to spill out.

Like a creeping plague, the mist settled on the floor and spread outward in all directions. At the same time, as Seong-jun made a light gesture, dozens of books emerged from within the fog.

Every single one of those books was a Life Record, their covers inscribed with titles written in scripts that human cognition could neither understand nor interpret.

Moreover, every single one of those Life Records contained the stories of executioners.

How on earth was he able to pull these Life Records out of the library? Even Seong-jun himself didn’t know. Or rather, saying it was ‘inexplicable’ would be more accurate.

Just as a human naturally breathes. Just as a human naturally moves their hands and feet in countless ways.

Seong-jun, too, could simply pull out the books arranged in the library in countless ways.

Meanwhile, upon seeing the multitude of books Seong-jun had summoned, [The Blood-Drinking Beheading Sword] let out another shuddering hum.

Invisible to human eyes, the sword vividly perceived the overwhelming greed and obsession radiating from those countless books.

If even just one of those books were to be opened, it would cease to exist as itself. It would be dragged back to the past—forced back into the hands of its master, reduced once more to a mere tool used to sever the necks of criminals.

To [The Blood-Drinking Beheading Sword], which had been reborn as an anomaly after lopping off the heads of countless sinners and drinking their blood, that realization translated into an unbearable terror.

And so, the blade moved.

Forcing the agent it controlled, it retreated toward its original containment chamber. No, calling it a ‘retreat’ would be a polite understatement—it was fleeing for its life.

As the rampaging [The Blood-Drinking Beheading Sword] vanished, the heavy silence that had blanketed the area suddenly lifted.

Suppression Team 5 regained their voice.

The Captain opened his mouth to speak to Seong-jun—the man who had appeared out of nowhere and subdued an anomaly that had broken containment procedures.

Or rather, he tried to.

Just as the words were about to leave his mouth:

“Please maintain your silence from now on.”

Finishing with those words, Han Seong-jun dissolved into thousands of fluttering sheets of paper and crumbled away.

The Captain and members of Suppression Team 5 could only stand there in a daze, staring blankly at the pile of paper where Seong-jun had stood just moments before.