Chapter 9
The Hydra must have really snapped, because now its attacks were on a whole different scale.
Before, it had just flailed around near its own body… but now it stretched out its necks, turning them into wide-range attacks.
KWA-BOOM!
CRASH!
“…Ah.”
It caught me—
THUD, THUD, THUD!!!
My ankle was snatched, and I was violently slammed across the floor. I had foolishly let my guard down, thinking its reach was limited to its neck length… and I hadn’t even considered that the Hydra could move the mansion itself. The impact was so brutal that the fact my head didn’t split open when I landed headfirst felt like a miracle. Yet, strangely enough, not a scratch marked my body.
“As expected… I guess I can’t be wounded normally?”
Even as the words left me, a chill ran down my spine. I quickly turned my head—
Sssssss—
But the poison had already grazed my left cheek.
How strong was Hydra’s venom again? Strong… right? Very strong.
Whether weak or strong didn’t matter—the fact was, once poisoned, dodging alone wasn’t going to save me. I had to act. Snatching up a shard of marble scattered on the floor, I hurled it with all my strength.
“…Pointless struggling!”
The Hydra flinched as the marble shard grazed its head, though it wasn’t enough to do real damage. Still, from that moment came one realization.
“…My attack worked?”
The thought was so quiet only I heard it. But what is it that makes humans fear ghosts?
Their terrifying appearance?
Their eerie presence?
Yes, those too. But the real killer is this: “physical attacks don’t work on them.”
Which means—
“Hey.”
“What nonsense are you spouting now?”
“Get ready to have your teeth kicked in.”
I would show it—my one proud strike, forged from the soul of every Korean: the gangnae punch. Even if I died today, I’d at least land one.
The snake scoffed.
“Heh. You do realize my venom’s already in you, right? Better spit out your last words.”
“Well. Even if I die, I’ll be dragging you with me. Don’t you have a will to leave behind?”
“…What?”
I tore down a heavy black curtain and flung it over the Hydra’s heads, then sprinted. Luckily, the curtain was wide enough to cover all nine heads, including their eyes.
And if physical attacks worked… then there was only one thing someone like me—who remembered Hydra’s myth—should do.
“You insane woman!!!”
The Hydra’s enraged roar echoed behind me, but I didn’t care.
“There.”
I grabbed a small wall-mounted lamp, the kind that flickered like a candle, barely lighting the mansion halls.
“You think blinding me for a moment is enough to—”
Before it finished, the Hydra lunged again, but it didn’t matter.
Because the curtain was still clinging to it.
WHOOSH!
Cloth burns easily. Fire existed here. That was all I needed for victory.
“Y-you’re insane…! How could a human know…?!”
The tiny flame quickly grew, devouring both the curtain and the Hydra it clung to.
“Oh my. Weren’t you the one who insisted I wasn’t human? And now you want to cry ‘human’ again?”
“H-how did you know my weakness…!”
The lamp flames were small, yes, but there were more scattered throughout the mansion. I’d known fire was Hydra’s weakness, but I hadn’t dared try earlier, not until I knew for sure physical attacks could affect it. Covering its eyes with a curtain only bought me seconds—if fire hadn’t worked, I’d have been lunch the moment I turned my back.
So yeah. If fire wasn’t its weakness, I’d have lost right there.
Just in case, I grabbed more lamps, calmly pressing them to the Hydra’s writhing body. In myths, the Hydra was immortal anyway… and hey, if it died here, maybe it would just become another ghost in this haunted house.
Even long after the flames had burned down, I stood watchful, staring at the charred, shapeless mass left behind.
“Hey. Are you crying?”
“…”
“C’mon, are you? Are you crying?”
This time, it didn’t explode at my taunting. Still, I kept my guard up, holding the lamp ready to torch it again at the slightest suspicious move.
“Don’t think playing dead will work on me. I know perfectly well your ninth head is immortal.”
Maybe it really was dead, but I remembered the stories—so I spoke in a calm, steady voice.
What if I was wrong?
Well, then I’d just end up embarrassing myself.
“H-how… how could…”
Sure enough, the cunning snake had only been pretending. Its trembling voice cracked. I feigned ignorance.
“Oh? I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
The Hydra shook off the curtain at last, its black eyes quivering violently. But its gaze wasn’t on its own destroyed heads—it was fixated on my cheek.
Right. The cheek that its venom had grazed earlier.
It didn’t care about its missing heads. It just stared, wide-eyed, mumbling like a prayer.
“Impossible… Even a god wouldn’t resist my venom…”
“Mm. And yet here I am, fine. Maybe the ‘god’ you once poisoned was just a low-ranking one, don’t you think? Which means—”
I paused for effect, then smiled leisurely.
“You’ve run wild without knowing your place. Now it’s time to pay the price, darling.”
* * *
“A lesser god? Don’t be ridiculous.”
That’s what the Hydra thought.
In this world, there was only one god—the Creator of all. And even He had once been harmed by the Hydra’s venom. That venom was the very reason the Hydra had been sealed inside this mansion since ancient times.
And yet, this woman had taken his venom full on… and brushed it off like nothing.
The Hydra’s venom never outright killed gods, true. But it drove them into madness from pain so severe they begged for death. For humans, though? There were no exceptions—venom meant death, always.
Even the Creator, maddened by the agony, had locked the Hydra away here. That same venom, feared as even more dangerous than the gods themselves, had only grazed this woman’s cheek… leaving nothing but a faint scratch.
Unbelievable.
That could only mean one thing: she did not belong to this world.
If she did, there was no way she wouldn’t know there was only one god here. No, worse—if she was strong enough to withstand Hydra’s venom, maybe she was mocking them, calling their only god a “lesser god” on purpose.
As if to say: Your so-called greatest god is nothing more than a minor deity in my world.
And if that were true, then this woman was on a level far beyond even the Creator.
When she’d said, “Think of me however you want. It won’t make any difference to me,” the Hydra had dismissed it as arrogant bluffing. But now?
Now it realized she had meant it literally.
Gods and ghosts existed only because of belief—their myths, their stories, their legends gave them power. If those faded, so did they. But this woman? She was completely unaffected by such things. She stood unshaken, firelight flickering in her eyes, proof that Hydra’s venom meant nothing to her.
She was no human.
No ghost.
Not even a god.
Then… what was she?
The Hydra swallowed nervously, throat dry.
Why had such an unknowable being come here? Why had she descended into this world, wearing the body she now possessed?
One thing was clear—
Her anger must never be provoked again.
“…You’ve run wild without knowing your place. Now it’s time to pay the price, darling.”
Ellie, that woman with the faint smile, looked terrifyingly beautiful in the gloom.
The Hydra made its choice.
POP!
If it wanted to live, it had to bow.
* * *
The Hydra burst in smoke with a loud pop, and I tensed instinctively. Was this a second phase? Boss monsters never ended in one round—there were always more, like roaches that just kept coming back.
“Ugh, just the thought pisses me off.”
To fight something designed to live forever, while I had only one fragile life… it made my palms sweat. I’d barely scraped by in the first round—what if it came back stronger?
But when the smoke cleared, what appeared before me was not the serpent-headed Hydra.
“Please… spare me.”
A man.
A handsome man.
“…Huh?”
I rubbed my eyes. Maybe I was hallucinating. But no matter how many times I blinked, the beautiful man standing before me didn’t vanish.
