Chapter 4
The water turning into blood on June 6, 2000, was only the beginning.
After that came frogs, lice, flies, and plagues… The disasters invaded the Earth every June 6th of random years.
It was a “great catastrophe,” utterly beyond human capability to handle.
To prepare humanity—or perhaps simply to torment it—smaller disasters also continued to visit the Earth.
“White!”
“The trial, huff… the trial is…!”
[Trial, “The Grave of 185,000” is awaiting resolution.]
This was the “trial.” A series of scenarios based on structures and spaces dictated by scripture, which could only end if the specified resolution conditions were fulfilled.
Apostles could grow through the trials and obtain items to fight the disasters, but the process was extremely dangerous. A double-edged sword, in the truest sense.
A woman, smoking in front of the wavering void, exhaled a smoke-laced sigh.
“You’re here.”
The woman was dispatched by the national Apostles Management Bureau to handle this incident—a B-rank apostle whom White already knew.
Catching his breath after sprinting, White twisted his face.
“Is there… no way to enter?”
“Don’t talk nonsense. Once the portal closes, how could you enter?”
The portal, called the “gate,” tore through the void and led to the “wilderness,” a virtual space separate from reality. Once a first entry occurred, it closed and could not be reopened.
To open it again, special conditions inside the wilderness had to be achieved.
White bit the inside of his cheek until it bled.
“…I heard the net has been triggered.”
The trial, which sharply increased in difficulty when certain conditions were met, was ruthless. Humanity had classified trials from S-rank to F-rank, assigning apostles according to the trial’s level—like using a mousetrap for a mouse, a slingshot for a bird.
“Exactly. From A-rank to S-rank bloom. From ‘The Pride of Rapsage’ to ‘The Grave of 185,000.’”
Unexpected difficulty spikes in this system were nothing short of disasters.
“Except for one A-rank, the rest are B and C ranks. There’s no way they can resolve it with that team.”
It was like throwing a harpoon for a marlin and having a leviathan tear through the surface.
“So… what do we do?”
White collapsed to the ground.
“My younger sibling… is inside…”
Yes.
White’s younger sibling had entered the trial where the net would soon trigger a massive difficulty spike.
The “White siblings” of <Burim> were quite famous in the Apostles’ circles.
D-rank White, incapable in battle, and the powerful A-rank combat apostle Hayan.
Though their abilities were opposite, they looked nearly identical, and whenever they appeared together, people took notice. But personality-wise, they were very different.
“Hayan… my younger sibling… I…”
Hayan was an individualist even among <Burim>’s indifferent types, while White was already emotional enough to show tears.
The woman sighed.
“You’re weak, that’s why you’re like this compared to your sibling. Don’t cry over it.”
“But…!”
“You won’t be able to save your sibling.”
Her words were harsh, but realistic. Countless apostles had already perished in the nets, forming communal graves. There was no room for comforting lies.
But… she could remind White of the one thing only he could do.
“You can call the lifeline that will save your sibling. Have you forgotten?”
Perhaps… if it’s that person…
As White lifted his tear-streaked face, the woman checked her watch.
“The reflux will begin in an hour.”
“Reflux” was when disasters from a trial spilled into the world. Usually triggered if all entering apostles died or failed to resolve the trial—but this net’s structure would reflux automatically after a set time.
And they had only one hour left.
Ordinary people couldn’t resist the suddenly emerging monsters; once the reflux began, massive casualties were inevitable.
If things reached that point, <Burim>—the organization responsible for the trial—would face global scrutiny. Their reputation as Korea’s top apostle group would be in jeopardy.
“Call your branch chief.”
The man obsessed with appearances, <Burim>’s branch chief, wouldn’t tolerate this.
“He’s handling a foreign trial. Normal communication won’t reach him.”
People inside the trial couldn’t communicate with the outside. But apostles could communicate using the “Toledot” book, a sacred tool all apostles possessed.
“You must contact him. With the ‘exchange diary,’ you can do it, right?”
That apostle was White.
He stared at the void’s gate with vacant eyes. If reflux began, apostles inside the trial could return through the gate… but the question was whether Hayan would survive.
“It’s an S-rank trial. He’s only experienced up to A-rank.”
“…”
“With that team… there’s no way he can survive an hour…”
“Focus, idiot!”
Whack!
The woman struck White sharply on the head.
“The manual says that once the net triggers, all apostles in the trial are assumed dead. But shouldn’t you trust your sibling?”
White’s eyes trembled.
“If you want to watch your sibling miraculously survive only to die immediately, stay seated and do nothing.”
As she spat the words, administrators called her.
“Officer! The entire square has been evacuated!”
“On my way.”
She flicked her cigarette away and left.
“Call Shin Heon-woo. Put the special forces on standby!”
As sharp orders and swift movements played out before the gate, White was left alone.
“….”
White looked at his Toledot, face damp with sweat.
The reason a powerless D-rank apostle like him could work for <Burim>, Korea’s top branch, was because of this communication ability.
+ [Exchange Diary]
Communicate with designated people via the Toledot.
The more skilled you are, the more people you can designate.
People lie even in personal diaries—imagine how many lies are written in a shared exchange diary.
Skill level: 3 (89%)
Assignable people: 4
It was because of this power that he could act.
…Clack.
White gritted his teeth and flipped the pages.
Stopping at the desired page, a pristine quill appeared in his hand in midair.
<Branch Chief>
A page for contacting White’s superior, <Burim>’s branch chief.
+: Branch Chief, the Gwanghwamun net will reflux soon.
+: If you don’t return immediately, we’re traitors.
+: Our <Burim> will be ruined.
+: Please answer.
+: If something happens to my sibling, I will commit a suicide attack in the <Burim> lobby.
White’s hand moved feverishly, scribbling the emergency message.
Meanwhile, in the back row of a liberal arts lecture hall…
[Can’t you buy me lunch after this class?]
Bored, Park Gil-dong doodled on Lee Cheo-eum’s notebook. Lee Cheo-eum glanced and replied.
[No]
[Why not]
[Counseling]
“-Again!?”
Park Gil-dong’s voice echoed loudly in the quiet lecture hall. Everyone turned around.
“…Don’t mess around during class.”
“Sorry.”
Gil-dong lowered his head sheepishly. The professor glared sharply, then returned to the blackboard.
[Park Gil-dong, shut up. Don’t make the professor notice.]
Jireum wrote with a serious face, ignoring the surrounding noise. Gil-dong whimpered.
[Sorry… but isn’t it unfair that I have to go to counseling again?]
[You went before class and during lunch, didn’t you?]
[Exactly! And again!]
[Three times a day is too much.]
Lee Cheo-eum frowned at his notebook, now transformed into an exchange diary.
[Will you pay for my grad school tuition?]
[Can I even get into grad school first?]
Lee Cheo-eum looked at Gil-dong with cold eyes.
[You’re not short on living expenses. Don’t overwork the present for an uncertain future.]
Gil-dong flinched but wrote carefully. Cheo-eum exhaled as he read the words.
[This time it’s a troublesome apostle.]
[Who?]
[Osalo.]
Snap.
Gil-dong and Jireum both looked at Lee Cheo-eum.
“Class ends here. Don’t forget to submit your assignments.”
As the professor announced the end, Cheo-eum tried to leave—but strong hands pressed down on his shoulders.
“Who are you meeting!”
Gil-dong shouted like a parent seeing a child with a bad friend.
“Are you really going to continue counseling that person?”
“I’ll pay double.”
“Still! That person is extremely dangerous!”
Osalo—he was notorious enough that even ordinary students like Jireum and Gil-dong knew him.
“Your reckless sense of safety is terrifying. You can’t even lift a 20 kg dumbbell, yet you act so carefree?”
Even Jireum frowned, but Lee Cheo-eum remained calm.
“I have someone I can trust.”
“What…?”
“They can’t harm me.”
As he was about to continue, CRASH!
The lecture hall window shattered.
…and a round figure, curled like an armadillo, fell into the classroom.
“Kyah!”
“Wh-what?!”
Screams erupted. Students trying to leave the classroom broke into a panic-run. The intruder, ignoring glass shards stuck to their body, frantically looked around.
Then their eyes met Lee Cheo-eum’s.
‘Oh.’
A familiar face.
Lee Cheo-eum tried to flee—but…
“Counselor!”
Thump.
The intruder dropped to their knees in the middle of the classroom.
“Please help me.”
White’s dark eyes gleamed with desperation.
“Save my sibling, Lee Cheo-eum…!”
His mangled, pleading face was pitiful enough to make anyone feel sympathy.
“Ha…”
Lee Cheo-eum let out a deep sigh. He had said that if there were counseling problems, they could come—but when did he ever sign up for life-or-death emergencies?
