Immortals vs. Grim Reapers - chapter 2
Chapter 2: Gates, Hunters, Monsters, and… Grim Reapers? (Part 2)
Ju Gangrim opened his eyes, feeling as if he were rising from underwater.
A crimson sky at dusk greeted him. Beside him flowed a small stream with shallow embankments, emanating the stench of sewage.
A warm breeze brushed past, accompanied by the rattling sound of a train crossing the thick bridge spanning the stream.
Gangrim was bewildered by the ordinary neighborhood stream atmosphere. It had been years since he’d last seen such an everyday scene.
‘What… is this? Did I dream?’
Gangrim peered into the stream. That’s when he realized it wasn’t a stream at all, but formless mist.
The mist flowed ceaselessly, constantly changing shape into countless human forms.
Gangrim recoiled at the eerie sight.
“Awake, are we?”
A sudden voice startled Gangrim, who hadn’t sensed anyone’s presence. He turned around abruptly.
Under the dark shadow of the bridge, a cigarette glowed like a firefly.
“That stream is called the Sandocheon,” came the voice from under the bridge, unclear whether it was a joke or not.
Gangrim first checked his physical condition. There was no trace of being bitten by zombies or having his neck broken by Gerald, as if it had all been a lie.
It meant he could fight at full capacity.
“Don’t do anything rash.”
However, as if reading his thoughts, a stern warning voice came from behind him.
Another person was behind him.
It was a woman with a pale, expressionless face and dark circles under her eyes. Her suit was black, like mourning clothes.
“Yeah, that sister is a scary one, so you’d better listen while I’m being nice.”
A chuckling laugh came from the man under the bridge. The man’s voice carried a strange resonance.
Gangrim realized the nature of his unease through instinct rather than knowledge.
“Are you… a ghost?”
A moment of silence passed before laughter erupted.
The dark-circled woman didn’t even raise the corner of her mouth, but the man under the bridge laughed for a while, finding something amusing.
Gangrim’s face reddened slightly. But he had his reasons for saying what he did.
Gangrim’s awakened ability was ‘Dog’s Eye,’ also known colloquially as ‘mutt eyes.’
In short, it was the ability to see ghosts.
The difference from other awakened ones was that Gangrim had been able to see ghosts even before the gates burst open.
It was a talent utterly useless whether in normal society or in the zombie apocalypse era.
“Ah, it’s been so long since I’ve laughed like this.”
“Identify yourself. I am Colonel of the UN 4th Army—”
“Colonel Ju Gangrim. Age 35. D-class ability user. As soon as you submitted your application to the Korea Military Academy, a gate opened in Bukhansan, Seoul, exacerbating the zombie plague. Eventually, in a society with diminished government functions, you became a zombie hunter.”
The man recited Gangrim’s personal information with a grin.
“You seemed to have made quite a name for yourself, but when South Korea fell, you joined the UN Unified Forces. Even as countries and organizations perished, you climbed the ranks within the 4th Army, becoming Gerald’s adjutant, but your end was… quack!”
The man under the bridge spoke playfully. Gangrim felt chilled by how much this man knew about him.
“State your affiliation.”
“My affiliation? Well, I’ll give you a hint. I’m not a ghost… I’m the one who catches ghosts.”
“The one who catches ghosts… The Marines?”
Gangrim’s answer was his best attempt after some consideration, but it seemed to sound like a joke to the man again.
Even the expressionless woman’s lips twitched slightly.
“I kind of like this guy’s sense of humor. Would it be more familiar if I said ‘grim reaper’?”
Gangrim closed his mouth.
No matter how he looked at it, this place resembled a familiar Korean neighborhood stream. But reflecting on what had happened to him and these two individuals, Gangrim muttered in a dejected voice.
“…So I’m dead after all.”
“Oh, quick on the uptake. I like that type.”
Honestly, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just under a bridge by a neighborhood stream.
A good spot for local thugs to hide and smoke. It was noisy above, with what sounded like trains rattling by.
But it was precisely this scenery that explained why this was the afterlife. It was a scene that could no longer exist in the world he had lived in.
And Gangrim knew that given what he had done and turned a blind eye to, he couldn’t expect a happy afterlife.
“I wasn’t expecting angels singing on clouds or pits of burning sulfur, but I didn’t think it would be this shabby…”
“Sorry to disappoint. But we look quite impressive if you come through the main entrance.”
Thud.
The man in the darkness stubbed out his cigarette on the ground and ambled over slowly.
He had his hair slicked back tightly.
Wearing a floral shirt, sunglasses, and a carelessly rolled-up suit sleeve revealing arms covered in scars.
He looked every bit the thug, but from the moment Gangrim stood face to face with him, he felt his soul being overwhelmed.
“Ju Gangrim.”
The man crouched in front of Gangrim, seeming pleased.
“I’m called Yeomna. You’ve probably heard of me once or twice.”
“…Yeomna? As in King Yeomna?”
“Not quite the image you had in mind, eh?”
Yeomna said this while taking off his sunglasses and gesturing casually towards the woman behind him.
“That’s Miss Yu over there.”
“I am Yu Wolryeong, the Messenger of the Moon.”
“Right. Yu Wolryeong, the Messenger of the Moon. If you act recklessly, she’ll personally snap your neck. I don’t mind, but she’s got a pretty stern personality.”
Gangrim fell into thought for a moment.
King Yeomna. The judge of the dead in the afterlife who weighs the rights and wrongs of the deceased.
That was all Gangrim knew about King Yeomna.
But with so many people dead, wouldn’t the afterlife be quite busy? It didn’t seem like the time to be idling around like this.
‘But that’s just prejudice.’
In Gangrim’s experience, the higher-ups always had more leisure time.
And if such a high-ranking person had sought him out personally, it meant they had business with him.
He quickly put on a bright smile and clasped his hands together.
“Ah, so you’re a person of high standing! If you had told me earlier, I would have shown proper respect! I apologize!”
“Oh, look at this, Miss Yu. This friend seems to have good manners, probably because of his military background.”
“If that’s what passes for military manners, you might as well make a sycophant the Minister of National Defense.”
Despite Yu Wolryeong’s sarcasm, Gangrim maintained his best smile.
If death had ended everything, it might be different, but if life continued with consciousness intact even after death, then it wasn’t over yet.
“I was too flustered to show proper respect. May I ask why you’ve sought me out?”
Yeomna stroked his roughly trimmed beard while looking at Gangrim.
Gangrim adopted a cautious posture for now.
While he acted carefully to make a good impression on the higher-up, in his experience, someone like Yeomna was what he’d call a ‘dangerous type.’
‘It’s best not to get too entangled with such dangerous types if possible.’
It’s better to maximize potential benefits and then maintain a distance, exchanging mere pleasantries.
He didn’t know how the afterlife was structured, but if communication was possible, it probably wasn’t too different from reality.
“You’ve lived quite an interesting life, Ju Gangrim. A sociopath who’d do anything for success. The type of success-oriented person who’d lick the boots of the powerful if told to, and crawl if ordered. That’s you, isn’t it?”
“Ah, haha. I think there might be some misunderstanding…”
“It’s all recorded in the Book of Life, you know?”
“Honestly, I never licked any boots.”
Even in flattery and service, one must consider cost-effectiveness. If licking boots would earn you the rank of general, that might be worth considering, but such base flattery only yields trivial gains.
The more someone has and the more complex they are, the more complex their desires become. It’s natural that they cling more to recognition and power than to peripheral pleasures.
That’s why Gangrim climbed by pushing his small achievements or helping with discreet clean-ups to gather weaknesses of his superiors, rather than resorting to flattery.
Clatter, clatter, a train passed overhead again vigorously. Dust showered down from under the bridge.
Yeomna patted the dust off Gangrim’s shoulders and spoke.
“How was it, living like that?”
Gangrim’s body stiffened. The corners of Yeomna’s mouth turned up slightly.
“Even though humanity perished, you made it near the top. You were certainly in the top 1% of the human world at that time. Countless lives hung on your every nod.”
“I was merely a fox borrowing the tiger’s authority to throw my weight around.”
“Now that you’ve been up there and back, was it fulfilling?”
“…No. It wasn’t. Everything felt empty. As they say, all glory and riches are ultimately…”
“Don’t say what you think I want to hear.”
Alright. Gangrim decided to consider Yeomna as someone who couldn’t be deceived at all.
It was a difficult type to deal with, but if it couldn’t be avoided, he had to be honest.
“Fine. To be frank, it was sweet. Inside the safe walls, I felt relief seeing the 99% of humans who had become zombies. The thrill of wielding extrajudicial power and controlling budgets at my fingertips was incredible. Tens of thousands of survivors clung to my every word. Well, accurately speaking, it was General Gerald’s halo.”
Gangrim continued, gritting his teeth.
“I made lists deciding who would live and who would die among hundreds of thousands of refugees. I threw them to the zombies because they were weak, sick, or had children. Yes, it was truly god-like power. Life and death were decided by my hand.”
What’s so special about being a judge in the afterlife?
Gangrim had already tasted such authority in his living days.
While S-class awakened ones fought fiercely on the frontlines, it was Gangrim’s role to decide who would live or die, what inequalities and unreasonable acts would be committed.
“I killed family breadwinners when ordered, confiscated property under the pretext of conscription, and reduced food rations to load 30-year-old wine boxes when food was already scarce. In return, I could live in luxury even as humanity was perishing. Is that written down too?”
Yeomna just smiled as he looked at Gangrim. Gangrim found that smile unbearably insulting.
“So? Are you going to pass judgment on me and throw me into boiling hellfire? Too bad. I don’t know how hot hellfire is, but I doubt it’ll be much different from when I was alive. Fry me, grill me, boil me, do as you please.”
“Hmm, yes. You’re right.”
Yeomna said, rummaging through his jacket’s front pocket. A crumpled cigarette pack emerged in his hand.
“But I know. The breadwinner you killed was hiding a zombie plague infection, and the property you confiscated under the guise of conscription belonged to a drug smuggling organization. After bribing your way up the ranks with those wine boxes, you took down the ones embezzling supplies.”
It was just that there happened to be some positive aspects to what he had done out of personal greed.
“And I also know that you diverted the civilians you were ordered to ‘clean up’ and protected them in hideouts. All while ruthlessly eliminating those who posed a threat to humanity.”
It was just to gather weaknesses of the VIPs.
“Shall we talk about the lists you made? It was the worst idea, but it was also a necessary distinction in the worst situation. I don’t think you’re bad. At least those lists were fair.”
Yeomna shrugged with his arms crossed.
“The reason it looked bad was simply because it failed. And the reason it failed wasn’t because your plan was inadequate, but for other reasons.”
Gangrim thought the conversation was taking a strange turn and opened his mouth.
“…I only worked for my own benefit.”
“Yes. Within the limits of not shedding your own blood, you’ve shown the maximum goodwill you could.”
“I…”
“You’re not bad enough to go to hell. The situation drove you to hell. That’s why I thought it was right to give you a chance.”
A chance?
Gangrim lifted his head abruptly. But Yeomna shrugged as if disappointed.
“But, in fact, you’re right.”
Gangrim looked up at Yeomna. Yeomna spoke with a bitter smile.
“Truth is, even hell isn’t much these days. I hear some guys laugh and say lava is lukewarm compared to zombie hordes. They say it’s not so bad just being fried without worrying about family or tomorrow.”
“Uh, um. Excuse me.”
“Yes, I was going to give you a chance, but a good guy like you shouldn’t suffer on earth. Maybe it’s better for you to just go to hell.”
“No, wait a moment.”
Gangrim grabbed Yeomna’s sleeve as he turned away. Gangrim was sweating coldly on his forehead, smiling awkwardly.
“Did you say you were going to give me a chance?”
Yeomna grinned and pulled out a cigarette from the crumpled pack as he spoke.
“I’ll give you a chance.”
Yeomna put the cigarette in his mouth and snapped his fingers. A spark appeared in the air and lit the cigarette. Yeomna took a drag on the cigarette and then pointed at Gangrim as he spoke.
“In exchange, you’ll have to become a grim reaper.”
Gangrim recalled the voice he had heard before dying.
‘I’ll give you a chance, so let’s work on something together.’
Yeomna walked along the bank of the Sandocheon, talking to Gangrim.
“You’d know best, having lived there, but the situation on the ground is pretty bad these days.”
“…The ground?”
“He means the world of the living, Lord Yeomna.”
Yu Wolryeong sternly corrected from behind.
“Right. The world of the living. It’s a complete mess. Do you know why it’s such a mess?”
“Because of the gates… right?”
“Yes. The gates. A perfect answer, to the point where Miss Yu doesn’t need to correct it. Because I just call it ‘a complete mess.'”
“The official term is ‘Cheonmun,’ Lord Yeomna.”
Cheonmun.
It was an unfamiliar word to Gangrim.
Even ‘gate’ was just a term that had been floating around among ordinary people; no one could properly understand or explain this phenomenon. But Yeomna and Yu Wolryeong spoke as if they were familiar with it.
“Yeah. Right. Originally, Cheonmun opens periodically at set times, and only strictly designated beings can pass through. But suddenly, Cheonmun started opening arbitrarily, on an absurd scale, and that’s how this mess started.”
“Why… did this happen?”
In response to Gangrim’s question, Yeomna smiled ominously.
“Because things that should die are shamelessly trying to live.”
Yeomna took out another cigarette from the pack and handed it to Gangrim.
“The Immortals. Those VIPs you served.”
Gangrim nearly dropped the cigarette he had put in his mouth.
“Their existence opened the Cheonmun. The zombie plague, the existence of abominations, the world of the living becoming such a mess—it’s all because of the Immortals.”