Chapter 125: Are You a Demon?
Inside a hollowed corridor, stone swallowed every sound. No torches. No lights. Only the dull bleed of red leaking from Hye-jin's eyes as she walked, her breath shallow against the stench ahead.
Rot. Metal. Old blood baked into rock. The air clung to her teeth like spoiled fat. Each step dragged her deeper into it, but she never slowed.
At the end of the passage stood a metal door with no seams, no handle. She leaned in. A small panel snapped awake and washed her face in cold light. Two scans. A soft chime. The door split open.
For the first time since entering, she hesitated. A single breath. Then she stepped through.
The chamber was vast—stone hollowed into a yawning throat, the ceiling lost in shadow. In the center sat a pool the size of a plaza, filled to the brim with blood so dark it looked black. The surface didn't ripple. It waited.
Above it floated five robed figures, their bodies suspended like puppets jerked by invisible wire. Their chanting scraped across her nerves, a language that felt like teeth against bone. Between them hung a vast diagram, the entire city of Shatterbay etched in glowing crimson, every street pulsing in time with the ritual.
It still stole her breath, no matter how often she witnessed it.
Hye-jin dropped to her knees at the water's edge, hands folded in her lap, gaze low. Her pulse raced as she let herself, not too openly, feel the currents running through the spell. Blood magic so dense it hummed against her skin. She tried to follow its channels, trace its weave, track where the power pooled and where it bled.
Her father's voice cut through her thoughts like a knife slipping between her ribs.
"That curious nature of yours has always been a source of pride, daughter. But if you continue to let it lead, you will uncover things you were never meant to know."
She didn't flinch. Only bowed her head a fraction deeper.
"I've completed my report on the Church of Light. The new Cardinal agrees to honor our authority over the city… but he requests permission to engage the Dead Hands. How should I respond?"
Silence answered her, but the chanting never wavered.
Even as the pool shifted.
Thick bubbles rose from the center, slow at first, then the surface heaved as something massive pushed upward. A clot the size of a wagon broke free from the depths, dragging strings of coagulated red behind it.
"The Dead Hands? Did he explain himself?"
Her father's voice leaked out of the floating clot, thick, wet words peeling chunks of congealed mass that plopped into the pool below.
"He did not. But intel points to the clash between the Dead Hands and the Wire Dogs. The same incident that ended with a dead Cherub."
The mass split. Two vast wings tore open, each a lattice of tendons and half-dried gore. From within, the Woon Patriarch rose, naked, drifting like some butchered angel dragged back into motion.
"The Church has roots in every Freeland city. Their influence is a blade. Ignore it and we're the ones bleeding. Send the reply. They have permission to engage."
He drifted toward the edge. Hye-jin stood, stepped back, and conjured a towel with a flick of her fingers. When he took it, their hands brushed. Heat ripped through her skin, furnace-hot, and dismissive. A reminder of the gulf between them.
As he wiped himself down, she hesitated.
"Father… you should know Yu-na is involved with the Dead Hands leader, Wohan Seo-jin. If we let the Church kill him, she'll resent the family."
He paused only long enough to show boredom before turning away.
"The death of one man holds no weight. Handle it as you wish."
"Of course."
She bowed, jaw tight, fists flexing until bone creaked. When she finally lifted her head, her eyes burned through her hesitation.
"Father...why haven't you punished us yet?"
Stopping mid-step, the Woon Patriarch stilled. No shift of breath. No twitch. Then he turned, and finally looked at her. The moment their eyes locked, Hye-jin regretted opening her mouth.
"Why should I punish you?"
Towel slung low on his hips, he walked toward her with slow, measured steps. Each one tightened the air around her neck.
"Because you went behind my back and bound yourself to Skaal'ar? Or because your meddling helped kill him—and stalled my plans?"
He stopped at arm's length and lifted a hand. Every nerve in her screamed to pull away, but she stayed rigid as stone while his fingers dragged across her cheek. Warm. Gentle. Foreign.
"No. For all of that, I'd expect nothing less from my daughters. My only disappointment is that it accomplished nothing."
He leaned in and kissed her forehead.
"I look forward to your next attempt, Hye-jin. If one of you kills me someday, I'll die a proud parent."
He turned and walked off, the towel trailing a faint rust-colored smear as he left.
Hye-jin trembled. Her face drained of blood, her chest tight, her breaths shallow and trapped. She held herself together by force until he vanished from sight, then she spun and marched from the chamber, leaving the stench of blood and chanting behind.
At the threshold, her voice bled out, thin and cracked, almost soundless.
"It should have been you…"
Her footsteps snapped down the dark corridor. Her fists clenched until her nails dug into her palms, eyes burning so hot her tears evaporated before they could fall.
----
Taking a long breath as he settled into his chair, Seo-jin felt a headache crawl up the base of his skull.
They'd returned to the docks without trouble. Gregor kneeling had put him in a good mood, a rare high that carried him through the trip back. Even Min's silence hadn't bothered him, cold and unreadable, sure, but nothing he cared to push.
Until she demanded a private talk.
Now she stood over him like a stormcloud pressed into human shape, and he couldn't read a damn thing in her face. For a moment he wondered if she'd come to offer loyalty the way Gregor had, but the tension in her shoulders made that seem impossible.
As the silence stretched thin, he cleared his throat and leaned forward.
"You just gonna stare?"
She didn't move. Didn't blink.
'She's weirding me out.'
[Me too.]
A tiny twitch in her brow. A long exhale. Finally she moved, dragging the spare chair across the floor and dropping into it, rubbing her face with both hands.
"I fucking hate this."
It sounded more like she was talking to herself. He opened his mouth to ask what, but she cut him off.
"Are you really a demon?"
The question hit harder than her fist ever could. His brows tightened as he tilted his head.
"Strange question. We both know I obviously am."
She stared again...deep, probing, like she was picking apart each word and trying to pry open the seams around them.
"I know you have a demon's body. I've seen you eat human flesh. I've seen what you can do. Yet—"
Her voice dragged, as if her own thoughts were annoying her. They were definitely annoying him.
"When I look at you, when you talk, the shit you pull… none of it lines up. I can't shake this idea that you're not what you say you are."
The headache landed fully now, throbbing behind his eyes. He rubbed his temples, not because she was wrong, but because the conversation dug into something he'd been avoiding.
"I assure you, I'm one hundred percent demon…"
He meant to keep going, but the words died. He leaned back and let out a dry, humorless chuckle.
"Actually, Min… I'm not really sure what the fuck I am."
She leaned forward, muscles tensing, eyes narrowing like a hunter finally spotting a trail.
"I fucking knew it. No demon acts like you. Haven't met many, but enough to know you're different. So what are you? Some kind of shapeshifter?"
"No. Not like that. What I am...it's messy. Complicated. But I am a demon."
Her fists tightened. Her jaw locked. She was a second from arguing, so he raised a hand to shut her down.
"Let me explain from the start. Then you can tell me what you think I am."
Min's retort withered before it reached her tongue. Something in his stare forced her spine straight. She leaned back, bracing herself without knowing why.
"A question first. What type of demon do you think I am?"
Her face twisted.
"No idea. That's half the reason I doubt you. Demons never shut up about the sin they embody, yet you've never claimed one. Even Gregor can't place what layer spat you out."
He nodded once.
"What would you say if I told you I'm from the Maw. And that I'm an imp."
"I'd say you're full of shit."
Her tone was blunt enough to crack bone, her stare harder than her shields. Seo-jin didn't flinch. He let the silence stretch, let her hear her own heartbeat in it. Slowly, her disbelief tightened into anger.
"If you don't want to tell me your little secret, fine. But if you're gonna lie, pick a better one. The Maw is one thing. But you, an imp? Bullshit."
Her mind refused to even play with the idea. Yes, his broodlings looked like them, but that was where the line ended. It made no sense. Couldn't.
Seo-jin raised his hand. Bone split. Skin peeled. Fingers warped into hooked, black demon claws.
"Doesn't matter if you believe me, it's true. My first memories are a haze. All noise and pain. I was one body in a swarm of thousands. Imps don't think. They don't learn. They just feed until something kills them. Or they die starving."
The tone of his voice pulled her in despite herself. The irritation she'd brought into the room bled out of her shoulders. Something cold slid down her back, warning her to stay quiet as he kept talking.
"I got separated somehow. Don't remember how. Just remember the hunger. Madness-level hunger. And wandering. Then I found it—"
His hand snapped back into human flesh. His eyes burned faint red.
"My first want. An imp—a big one—who had already become a User. I watched him die. Then I ate his corpse."
Min's eyes widened. Her breath hitched.
"There was another before you…then what happened?"
He smiled, but it wasn't pleasant. It wasn't human.
"More pain. And the green."
Seeing her confusion twist tighter, he let a thin smirk show and plunged on.
He told her how consuming the shard hadn't just kept him alive, it had cracked his mind open. The system had shoved intelligence into him like a weapon, forcing structure onto a brain that had never held a thought. And with it came the flashes. Concepts. Landscapes. Earth before the Convergence. The green.
"So I did what I had to do to survive. I tore through the Maw, killing demon beasts by the hundreds. Crawled under a warlord's shadow without being noticed. Used his portal the moment it opened. When I hit Earth, I found Seo-jin. I needed a human soul to evolve, to stretch my lifespan, to get strong enough to chase what I saw in those visions."
Min stared as if trying to hold a whirlwind still. Imps. Warlords. The Maw. His path through it. It all spiraled together faster than she could piece it apart. For the first time, disbelief gave way to something quieter. Understanding.
"It makes sense now—wait."
Her face hardened.
"Imps only live a day or two. How old are you?"
"About four months."
If she'd been taking a drink, the wall would've worn it.
"You're a fucking baby?!"
"Watch it—"
She broke. Laughter ripped out of her like a gut punch, bending her forward as heat rushed up Seo-jin's neck.
"Four months?!"
Bloodlight crawled up his skin, ready to shut her up, when she waved him down between gasps, wiping tears from her eyes.
"Sorry—sorry—just… fuck, this is too much."
He glared while she breathed through the tail end of her fit, wheezing nonsense syllables until she got control again. Finally she sat back, dragged in one long breath, and met his stare.
"Alright. So let me get this straight… you're really an imp. Your first thoughts were images of Earth. You escaped the Maw with nothing but your system for company. And now your head is packed full of Seo-jin's life."
He nodded once. Hearing it listed out loud made something inside him settle, and shift. She'd packaged his entire existence into a single, brutal summary.
"No wonder you don't feel like a demon. You weren't raised by them. You weren't taught anything by them. Your knowledge is human. Your instincts are half system-fed. You've never lived among your own kind."
Her eyes narrowed, studying him like a blade she finally understood.
"You're basically a child raised by wolves."
The truth landed hard, clean, but necessary. It cracked something loose inside him, a lock he hadn't realized he was carrying. He sank back in his chair, shoulders dropping as the pieces rearranged in his head.
'Raised by wolves… should I call you mom?'
[I'll never speak to you again.]
'Tempting…'
A crooked grin slid across his face, gone the moment Min spoke.
"Still, a demon is a demon. That doesn't change. You don't feel human, but you don't feel like the rest of your kind either. Maybe you're something else entirely. Honestly? It's fuckin badass. You get to choose your own path."
A sharper smirk replaced the first, his brow raising.
"Since when did your brain and mouth sync up?"
Her inhale sharpened, but he cut her off before she could unload on him.
"And I've already chosen my path. The Dead Hands already walk it with me."
He rose from the chair with a weightlessness that wasn't physical. Something inside him had let go. He glanced at her as bloodlight bled off his skin in thin trails.
"Enough talk. All this reminiscing made me hungry."
"We just gave away most of our meat. Gregor said—"
"I'm not hungry for that kind of food."
She felt it the moment he stepped past her...felt it in her spine, in her breath, in the way her muscles locked of their own accord.
A hunter had brushed by her.
A predator looking for prey.