By Ji-eun
The hospital is empty.
Not for lack of patients.
But for fear.
For three weeks, nurses have been reporting voices in the hallway of the abandoned floor—Block 7, closed since a fire in 2003.
Patients wake screaming, saying they saw a child with tiger eyes.
A doctor was found with frozen hands.
And every night at 2:17, the hallway lights flicker.
Min-jae tracked down the source.
"It's a changgwi," he said, showing the energy graph.
"A spirit tiger servant. It preys on weak souls. But this one… is corrupted.
And it's hearing a stronger voice."
"His sister?" I asked.
He shook his head.
"No. She's trapped.
The changgwi is using her pain as bait."
We knew then:
This wasn't just a hunt.
It was a test.
For the group.
For our unity.
To see if we were truly more than just survivors.
Attack plan: no brute force.
"Let's not engage directly," I say, in the alley behind the hospital.
We're all dressed in dark clothing, but no armor.
We're hunters, not soldiers.
Min-jae: Monitor the changgwi's energy with portable sensors. He'll guide us—and warn us if his sister is nearby.
Hae-jun: Create a double illusion—a false corridor, where the changgwi will be lured.
Suah: Stand ready at the end of the real corridor, ready to contain the monster if it escapes.
Me: I enter with the red bell tea—which breaks illusions and weakens spirits linked to possession.
But the plan isn't perfect.
Nothing here is.
The corridor of Block 7 is an icy tunnel.
The air is so cold it hurts to breathe.
The walls are covered in claw prints that shouldn't be there.
And at the end… a half-open door.
"He's there," Min-jae whispers into the earpiece.
"And… there's another presence.
Fainter.
But familiar."
His tone changes.
He knows.
"Go slowly," he begs.
"Please."
Hae-jun begins the illusion.
With a wave of his hands, the corridor bends.
A new path appears beside the real one—an old corridor, lit red, filled with the shadows of running children.
"Calling the hunter with his prey," he whispers.
"Let's see if he bites."
And he does.
Out of nowhere, a pale child appears.
Yellow eyes. Sharp teeth.
Wearing torn hospital pajamas.
The changgwi.
He enters the illusion.
He follows the shadows.
And when he reaches the end…
Hae-jun breaks the illusion.
The hallway returns to normal.
But the changgwi doesn't disappear.
He laughs.
"Illusion? I'm the illusion of the dead."
And then, he attacks.
Not Hae-jun.
Min-jae.
With a supernatural leap, he crosses the hallway and grabs the earpiece, cutting off the signal.
"You heard her cry, didn't you?" he whispers, his voice like a child.
"But you didn't come.
You had proof.
You had a future.
And you let her die."
Min-jae freezes.
Trauma paralyzes him.
"No…" he murmurs.
"I couldn't…"
—
Suah springs into action.
With a scream, he sprints down the hallway.
Her fists glow with amber energy.
A punch in the air creates a wave that throws Changgwi against the wall.
"Ji-eun! Now!" she screams.
I jump.
I open the tea bottle.
But Changgwi disappears into shadow, reappearing behind me.
"You don't understand," he laughs.
"We're not monsters.
We are what you created."
He raises his hand.
A biting cold hits me.
I fall.
The tea slips from my hand.
But then…
Hae-jun appears.
Not with illusion.
With truth.
He steps between me and Changgwi.
And says:
"You won't touch her.
Because I finally understand.
My mother didn't run away.
She left me to fight.
And that's what I'm going to do."
And with that, he creates a new illusion.
Not a hallway.
Not a child.
Of a nine-tailed fox, hovering in the air, with golden eyes that burn the changgwi.
The monster screams.
Backs away.
"Now, Ji-eun!" Suah shouts.
I grab the tea.
I jump.
And instead of throwing it...
I drink half of it.
My grandmother's diary says:
"The Purifying Touch can also come from within."
The tea burns my throat. My skin glows with blue light. And when I touch the changgwi...
It dissolves into tears.
Not screams. In sobs.
And at the last second, a soft voice whispers:
"Thank you... brother."
Min-jae falls to his knees.
Weeps.
"
But the night doesn't end here. When we leave the hospital, the sky is clear. The cafe is closed. But I feel it.
Someone is watching us.
On the roof of the building across the street, a figure sits.
The same Elder gwisin who almost killed me.
He doesn't attack. Doesn't speak. Just claps slowly.
"Amazing," he says, his voice echoing. "The group of the broken. The sensitive who hears the dead. The fighter who carries guilt. The fox who forgot her name. And the tea girl... who finally understood."
He stands.
"Tell the dokkaebi that the King is pleased. The show is beginning."
And disappears.
—
We return to the café. We don't speak. I make regular chamomile tea. Warm bread. Silence.
Until Min-jae whispers:
"She was at peace."
Hae-jun smiles.
"My tail... glowed. Like it came back a little."
Suah squeezes my hand.
"It was our first hunt. But it wasn't our last."
And I…
I look to the corner.
The chair is empty.
But his coin is there.
And a new sentence is written in the condensation on the window:
"You've grown.
But so has the King."
—
I open the notebook.
I write:
"Today, we don't win alone.
We win together.
And for the first time…
I feel like we truly are the Lost Raiders."
And below, in red ink:
"The first arc has ended.
The next begins with blood."