Rain was pouring heavily over the empty streets of Seoul, and the flickering neon lights reflected on the asphalt. A black car with no license plates stopped at a dark corner, and three people in elegant formal wear stepped out, but their gazes were not those of ordinary businessmen.
The woman said as she watched the narrow alleys, "The signal appeared here... the devil is close."
The tallest man sighed as he adjusted his black glove, "His scent fills the place. He seems hungry."
As for the third, he smiled calmly as he pulled out a shiny silver dagger, "Good... the boredom is finally over."
The air suddenly trembled, as if the city itself held its breath. From within the shadows, something unnatural moved, something that made the lights flicker for a moment. The three advanced one step in perfect unison, as if they had rehearsed this moment a thousand times.
The woman whispered, "Remember the Master's orders, Hae-Jae… we want him alive."
The man replied with a cold smile, "If he cooperates."
Then the third added in a low voice, his eyes fixed on the darkness, "And if he doesn't… nothing will remain of this night but memories."
And from the heart of the darkness, the thing began to emerge.
---
In a small house in a poor neighborhood in Korea, a man with black hair, wearing a worn-out shirt and loose pants, was sitting in front of the TV. His fingers pressed the controller buttons violently, his eyes fixed on the screen where his character in the game was being defeated once again.
"Ugh! I lost again!" He shouted in frustration, throwing the controller onto the shabby sofa.
He lay down on the floor, littered with empty energy drink cans and chip bags, and sighed deeply. "Looks like I'm living in deadly boredom."
He looked at the cracked ceiling where a yellow water stain expanded with every rainy season. "I'm Kim Han-Maroo, a twenty-nine-year-old unemployed man. I've lived a boring life since I was young."
He closed his eyes and recalled the painful memories: "I was always bullied since elementary school because I was born without a father. Even my mother's relatives abandoned her because of it. But she… she never ran away from me. She kept working to support me and herself."
As for his father, that unknown man she conceived me with, I never knew his whereabouts until now. «And I don't really care who he is.»
Before he could finish his thoughts, he heard a fit of intermittent coughing coming from the kitchen. He got up quickly and headed towards the sound.
He opened the kitchen door to find his mother—a short, thin woman, her kind features bearing the marks of years of exhaustion—standing by the old refrigerator, coughing with her whole body.
"Mother!" Han-Maroo approached her anxiously. "Are you okay?"
She smiled tiredly and said in a hoarse voice, "I'm fine, dear, just a little tired."
But Han-Maroo noticed how she held onto the back of the chair to balance herself, and how her eyes were red from staying up late.
Maroo's mother went to continue her work in the kitchen, but he stepped forward and gently stopped her.
He looked at her as she leaned against the counter, her frail body seeming smaller than her actual age. He remembered how she used to come back every night from her work at the factory, her feet swollen, her back bent, yet she always smiled and asked him about his day.
"I…" He clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white.
Then he said in a loud voice, "Mother…"
She looked at him, surprised. "What is it, dear?"
Instead of answering, he lifted her with all gentleness—he always forgot how light she had become—and said, "You rest now, and I will work."
Maroo's mother was shocked. "Dear, are you okay?"
He took her to the living room and placed her gently on the sofa, then covered her with the only blanket the family owned. "Don't say anything."
She looked at him with tearful eyes as he started cleaning for the first time in months. He gathered the empty chip bags and energy drink cans he had thrown in every corner and put them in the trash bin. He cleaned the dust off the table and arranged the scattered books.
Then he went to the kitchen. He opened the old refrigerator that creaked every time its door moved. He found only a pack of instant noodles and some wilted vegetables.
«Is this all we have…» he whispered to himself, feeling a lump in his throat.
He prepared the food with great care—something he had never done before—and brought it to his mother on a plate. He even placed the single piece of carrot he found beside it, shaped like a small flower, just as she used to do for him when he was a child.
After she ate, she tried to get up. "I have to go to work now."
Han-Maroo looked at her, shocked. "Mother works day and night… this is why she's tired and sick."
He watched how she endured to stand, how she leaned against the wall as she walked. "I… how long will I remain like this? Instead of being her support and aid, I am the cause of her illness!"
He squeezed his palm hard and bit his lower lip until he tasted blood.
And just before she opened the door to leave, he said in a voice more determined than his mother had ever heard from him in his entire life:
"Stop, Mother!"
She turned to him, astonished.
Han-Maroo looked at her, his eyes shining with a new resolve. "I am the one who will work from now on."
"But Maroo-ya…"
"No 'buts'," he interrupted, taking her modest bag from her. "Enough is enough. You rest today, and we'll see tomorrow. I have a plan."
His mother looked at him, trying to understand what was happening. She noticed something different in his eyes—they were no longer the eyes of the lazy son she knew, but the eyes of a man who had finally decided to take responsibility for his life.
"But… what job will you find?" she asked worriedly.
Han-Maroo smiled a smile she hadn't seen since he was a teenager. "Trust me, Mother. Our lives won't be like this after today."
After persuading her to go back to bed, Han-Maroo stood in the middle of the modest room. He looked around him: the peeling walls, the worn-out furniture, his old picture on the wall of him as a smiling, carefree child.
"Enough running away," he told himself. "If this world won't give me a chance, I'll make my own chance."
Little does Han-Maroo know that this decision of his, on that ordinary night in the poor neighborhood, will lead him to a world he couldn't have dreamed of in his happiest dreams—a world where demons walk among humans, and blood hides secrets.
Han-Maroo left the house early in the morning, wearing the best he owned—old black pants and a white shirt skillfully ironed by his mother. "Today I will get a job," he told himself as he ran towards the subway station.
---
9:00 AM - "Korea Digital Marketing" Company
"Excuse me, Mr. Kim. Your resume… is very simple," said the HR manager, flipping through the paper that didn't even fill half a page.
"But I learn fast!" Han-Maroo tried.
"We need someone with at least two years of experience. Thank you."
---
10:30 AM - "Seoul Grill" Restaurant
"Restaurant cleaning? That's tough, my friend. We already have a full team," said the restaurant owner while cleaning a glass.
"I can work any shift!"
"Sorry, no opportunities right now."
---
12:45 PM - "G-Mart" Store
"A sales representative position? You need communication skills, and you…" The arrogant female employee looked at him over her glasses. "You seem too shy."
---
2:15 PM - "Daily Coffee" Café
"I'm looking for a barista job? But I can learn to make coffee!"
"We need someone with a training certificate."
---
4:00 PM - A delivery company
"The issue of a criminal record… you don't have one? That's good, but…"
"But what?"
"The problem is a driver's license. You don't have one."
---
5:30 PM - A small electronics shop
"You're 29 and have no work experience? What were you doing all these years?"
"I was… taking care of my sick mother," Han-Maroo lied for the first time that day.
The shop owner shook his head. "Sorry, I can't help."
---
6:45 PM - A car repair workshop
"You're too thin for this work. Look for something else."
---
7:30 PM - The night market
"You need to be fast here. And you… seem slow."
---
After the eighth rejection, Han-Maroo gave up. He sat on the sidewalk near Gwangnam Station, his head in his hands. Cars sped by, people walked in every direction, everyone had a place to go… except him.
"Eight times! They rejected me eight times in one day! Damn it!" he whispered hoarsely.
He looked at the sky, which was beginning to don a deep purple hue. «Is there no good in this life?»
Suddenly, a piece of paper flew with the wind and hit his face. "Ah!" Han-Maroo brushed it away angrily.
But the wind swirled it around again, and it nearly flew away before he quickly caught it. He looked at it—it was a yellow paper with untidy handwriting.
[Cleaner Wanted - Seoul Cleaning Company - Daily Wages - No Experience Required]
Beneath the title was a phone number and an address in the Gangnam district.
«This… this is ridiculous,» he told himself. But he looked at the paper again, then at his empty hands, then remembered his sick mother at home.
"No, wait… there is still good in this life!" he suddenly shouted, causing an elderly woman passing by to jump in fright.
He didn't wait any longer. He clutched the paper as if it were treasure, and started running towards the subway station.
---
8:15 PM - An old building in Gangnam
The cleaning company's office wasn't what he had imagined. It was a single small room in an old building, with a man in his fifties sitting behind a dirty desk.
"You want a cleaning job?" the man asked without lifting his eyes from the horse racing newspaper.
"Yes! I saw the advertisement."
"Your name?"
"Kim Han-Maroo."
"Your age?"
"Twenty-nine."
"Done any cleaning before?"
"No, but I…"
"Accepted. You start tomorrow at 10 PM. The pay is 50,000 won per shift (6 hours). If you're late or absent without notice, you get nothing. Understood?"
Han-Maroo couldn't process the speed. "Wait… did you accept me just like that?"
The manager looked at him for the first time. "It's a cleaning job, son. You don't need experience. Everyone refuses it, and everyone quits after two days. If you want a formal interview, I'm sorry."
"No, no! I accept!" Han-Maroo said quickly.
"Take this," the manager gave him a faded blue shirt with the company logo on it. "Tomorrow, here, 10 PM sharp."
---
The next day - 10:05 PM
Han-Maroo was the first to arrive. Minutes later, three others arrived:
1. Mr. Park (60 years old): A silent old man who had been working in cleaning for twenty years.
2. Lee Joon-Ho (45 years old): A man who seemed to have once been in a better place, now drinking from a small bottle hidden in his pocket.
3. Choi Min-Young (35 years old): A quiet woman, wearing the blue shirt neatly.
"You're the new one?" Min-Young asked kindly.
"Yes, I'm Kim Han-Maroo."
"Alright, follow us. Tonight we're cleaning an office building in Gangnam."
---
11:00 PM - "Global Tower" Building
Mr. Park handed Han-Maroo a mop and a bucket. "Two floors for you. Mop the floors, clean the windows, empty the trash bins."
The work was harder than he had imagined. His back started hurting after just one hour. His hands, accustomed only to holding a controller, became red and blistered from the mop handle.
«Too slow,» Joon-Ho said as he watched Han-Maroo struggle. «You'll be fired before the weekend.»
But Min-Young came to help him. «Hold the mop like this. And don't bend your back like that, you'll hurt it.»
After four hours of non-stop work, his clothes were soaked with sweat, and the smell of cleaning chemicals burned in his nose. But when he looked around, he saw the floors shining, the windows becoming clear, and the desks tidy.
«Not bad,» Mr. Park said, inspecting his work. «But here…» He pointed to a corner. «It's still dirty.»
Han-Maroo didn't complain. He went back to clean the dirt from that corner.
---
4:00 AM - End of shift
Mr. Park handed him a brown envelope. «Your pay for today.»
Han-Maroo opened it: fifty thousand won. Not a fortune, but more than he had earned on any day in his life.
«Thank you,» he said in a shaky voice.
«Same time tomorrow,» Mr. Park replied coldly.
---
5:00 PM - Home
Han-Maroo entered his house quietly. His mother was asleep on the sofa, waiting for him. On the table, he found a covered plate of food and a note that said: «I am proud of you no matter what.»
His mother woke up when she heard the door. «Maroo-ya! How was your day?»
He sat beside her and took out the brown envelope. «Here it is, Mother. My first paycheck.»
She took the envelope with trembling hands, her eyes shining. «My son… you…»
«It's only a cleaning job,» he said humbly.
«No! It's an honorable job.» She held his blistered hand and looked at it. «Oh, your hands…»
«It's nothing. They'll get used to it.»
She hugged him tightly, a hug she hadn't given him since he was a child. «I'm so happy. But don't overwork yourself.»
«I will work more, Mother. I'll save money, find you better treatment, and maybe we can move to a better apartment…»
«Seeing you like this is enough for me,» her eyes teared up. «My father was right.»
Han-Maroo paused. «Grandfather? What did he say?»
«He always said: A real man isn't one who never falls, but one who knows how to get up after falling. And today, you stood up.»
Han-Maroo slept deeply that day for the first time in years. But he didn't know that while he was sleeping, the yellow paper he had found—the cleaning job advertisement—was beginning to fade gradually, as if it had never existed…
And at the cleaning company office, the old manager was receiving a phone call:
«Yes, I hired him… He'll start working at the new building tomorrow… the building owned by Hyundai-Demon Corporation… Yes, yes, understood… He will be the one cleaning the 66th floor… the floor reserved for the CEO…»
---
Day Five - 3:45 AM
It was raining heavily, and the wind was beating against the windows of the office building Han-Maroo and his colleagues were cleaning. «Finally finished,» Joon-Ho grumbled as he placed the cleaning tools into the cart.
«Yes, we can go home and shower with hot water,» Min-Young added, rubbing her tired shoulders.
But before they could leave, the manager suddenly appeared from the darkness. «Wait! There's a new load of garbage that needs to be collected before dawn.»
«Now? In this rain?» Han-Maroo asked in surprise.
«Yes, at the closed Hangang Park. I sent the coordinates to Min-Young's phone.»
Everyone looked at each other with displeasure. Mr. Park shook his head. «Overtime pay?»
«Double. One hundred thousand each.»
Everyone fell silent. The money was tempting, but the time and place… «Why a closed park at this hour?» Min-Young asked cautiously.
«Don't ask questions. Go, collect, come back,» the manager said before disappearing into the rain.
---
4:20 AM - Closed Hangang Park
The iron gate was wide open, as if someone was waiting for them. «This is strange,» Han-Maroo whispered as he drove the cart inside the deserted park.
«I feel a chill down my spine,» Joon-Ho said, drinking the last drop from his bottle.
The place was completely empty. No guards, no visitors, only the shadows of trees swaying in the fierce wind. In the middle of the park, they found large black garbage bags placed in a strange circular formation.
«Finish quickly, I feel very tired,» Mr. Park said as he tried to open the first bag.
«Yes, the weather is really bad,» Min-Young added, patting her wet hair.
They began working in silence, each cutting open a bag and emptying its contents into the cart. A strange, foul smell spread through the air—not the smell of ordinary garbage, but a smell of metallic decay, as if something very ancient had been opened.
While Han-Maroo was emptying a heavy bag, he noticed something glinting among the refuse. He cautiously reached in and pulled it out.
It was a purple jewel, the size of a pigeon's egg, glowing with a strange internal light. «Why is there a jewel here?» he whispered to himself, turning it between his fingers. The light seemed alive, pulsating, as if beating with a hidden heart.
«Maroo! Come and help me here!» Joon-Ho called from the other side.
Suddenly, without thinking, Han-Maroo hid the jewel in his inner pocket. «Coming!»
Ten minutes later, they finished collecting all the bags. «Let's get out of here,» Min-Young said, shivering from the cold.
They got into the cart and began moving slowly towards the gate. The rain had become a drizzle, and thunder rumbled in the distance.
Suddenly, CRACK! - A terrifying white lightning bolt struck a tall pine tree mere meters away from them, turning it into a pillar of fire.
«Oh my god!» Min-Young screamed.
«It's just lightning, calm down,» Mr. Park said, trying to control the cart.
But before they could calm down, something unbelievable happened.
CRACK! - Joon-Ho's head burst open, as if a balloon filled with red paint had exploded inside it. His body remained seated for a moment before collapsing sideways.
«W-What… what happened?» Han-Maroo screamed in terror.
Min-Young began to scream in a choked voice, but her scream stopped abruptly when her body split in two with a clean line from head to pelvis, as if an invisible sword had cut her.
«No… no…» Mr. Park whispered, backing away, his eyes wide with panic.
Then his body began to swell, as if something was growing rapidly inside him. «Maroo… run…» were his last words before his entire body exploded, scattering limbs and viscera in every direction.
Han-Maroo remained alone in the cart, covered in the blood of his colleagues, trembling like a leaf in the wind. «What is this… what is happening?»
Then he heard a crawling sound behind him.
He turned slowly.
There was… a thing… crawling out from the shadows. A distorted human body, numerous arms sprouting from its back, yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. Its mouth, filled with sharp teeth, breathed with a whistling sound.
«No… this is impossible…» Han-Maroo whispered, trying to get out of the cart, but his legs refused to obey.
The demon—for it could not be called anything else—approached with terrifying speed. «The jewel… give me the jewel…» it whispered in a voice like stones grinding together.
«I… I don't have…»
But the demon knew. It knew where it was. It grabbed Han-Maroo by the neck and lifted him into the air as if he were a rag doll.
«Am I going to die?» Han-Maroo thought as he choked. «If this is the end, so be it. No one will grieve for me…»
Then he remembered his mother. Her image smiling at him this morning, giving him a small lunch box. «Mother… she will grieve.»
At that moment, SLASH! - Something cut off the demon's hand that was strangling him.
Han-Maroo fell to the ground, gasping, and raised his eyes to see who had saved him.
It was a young man, perhaps in his mid-twenties, with long blue hair tied back, wearing an elegant black formal suit. In his hand was a long sword glowing with a faint blue light.
«Who… who are you?» Han-Maroo whispered.
The young man didn't answer. His sharp eyes were fixed on the demon. «Come to me, you vile monster.»
The demon attacked with its multiple arms, each arm sprouting small, snarling mouths. But the young man was unnaturally fast. He moved like the wind, his sword cutting the arms one by one with ease.
SHWING! SHWING! SHWING!
But for every arm he cut, two new ones grew. «You cannot defeat me, Hunter,» the demon laughed in a terrifying voice.
Han-Maroo, while watching the battle, felt a strange warmth in his pocket. The purple jewel was heating up, glowing with a powerful light that pierced through the fabric of his jacket.
«This is what it wants,» he realized suddenly.
The demon turned towards him, its yellow eyes widening. «The jewel!»
At that moment, Han-Maroo made a decision. If this jewel was the cause of all this death, this monster would not get it.
He took the jewel from his pocket. It was now glowing like a candle in the darkness, warm as a live ember.
The blue-haired young man saw what he intended to do. «No! Stop! Don't do it!»
But Han-Maroo didn't listen. He opened his mouth and placed the jewel on his tongue.
It was both sweet and bitter, warm and cold. It felt as if it was melting in his throat.
Then he swallowed.
There was no longer a park, no rain, no demon, no blue-haired hunter.
Han-Maroo stood in a dark red place, a floor of cracked bone, a sky without stars, only swirls of crimson smoke.
«Where am I? Is this hell?»
Around him, human skeletons and other things… things that were never human. Skulls with horns, bones a hundred times larger than human bones.
Then he heard a sound: drip… drip… drip…
A hot, viscous liquid fell onto his face. He slowly raised his head.
Above him, suspended from an invisible ceiling, hung a colossal demon. Its eyes were like volcanic chasms, its fangs longer than Han-Maroo's entire body, and its cracked skin glowed with inner fire.
«Human… audacious…» The demon's roar made the bones around him tremble. «You gave yourself the jewel… now you are mine.»
«W-What… what do you mean?»
The demon laughed, and the laugh was like an earthquake. «The Purple Shadow Jewel… seeks a host… and you accepted it willingly.»
«No… I didn't accept…»
«Everyone accepts power when they are desperate. And you were very desperate.»
The demon extended its long, pointed finger—or what seemed a finger—towards Han-Maroo's abdomen. «Now, I will take it from inside you.»
«Wait! What are you going to do?»
«I will open you… and extract the jewel… and your body will be empty afterwards.»
The sharp darkness touched Han-Maroo's stomach. He felt cold first, then a burning pain unlike anything he had ever felt before.
«Ahhhh!»
STAB!
The darkness entered his body as easily as a knife into butter. Han-Maroo looked down to see the large black hand embedded in his stomach.
«Mother… I'm sorry…» were his last thoughts.
Then darkness.
But…
In the darkness, a faint purple light began to glow.
A pulse.
Another pulse.
Then an explosion of purple light engulfed everything.