NOVEL NEXT Chapter 43
It was a familiar ceiling.
The faint smell of disinfectant brushed against my nose. The fluorescent light pierced my eyes, making me squint slightly. My head throbbed.
From the hallway, the distant sound of medical staff’s footsteps could be heard. Occasionally, the opening and closing of ward doors echoed faintly.
‘Where am I…?’
It was the Catastrophe Foundation hospital ward.
Similar to when dealing with an Entity, I saw an IV stand hanging with a contamination purification agent. Transparent liquid slowly flowed into my veins.
On the bedside table, my confiscated smartphone was plugged into the charger. My face dimly reflected on its black screen—my gaunt appearance felt unfamiliar.
Someone must have moved my unconscious body here.
My last memory was vague. I remembered up until the moment when the attempt to become the God of Dawn failed, but everything after that was completely blank. The scenes from that time flickered in fragments like a broken mirror before disappearing.
My hands trembled as I tried to pick up the smartphone. It took several attempts before I managed to press the power button. The screen lit up.
But this time, something was different.
There was no success message for completing a horror story mission.
‘Of course…’
After all, we neither sealed nor eliminated the horror entity. All I did was watch the failure of becoming the God of Dawn.
My mouth felt dry. I tried to swallow, but my throat was parched.
‘I worked so hard for a month…’
Thoughts of the efforts to enter the Divine Path surfaced. The cold water showers at five in the morning, the meditation that lasted all day, the monotonous vegetarian diet… Despite enduring all of it, I hadn’t even received a single Dalant or a success message for completing a horror story mission. It was disheartening.
The sunset illuminated the room through the window, casting red hues across the white walls.
‘I need to get up…’
As I tried to sit up, dizziness overwhelmed me. Was it the effect of the contamination purification agent? My head felt heavy, and the ceiling seemed to spin.
But now wasn’t the time for that.
I had to open the messenger app.
The Shaman would surely be worried after not hearing from me for a whole month without any notice. I noticed my trembling fingers and took a deep breath.
As soon as I opened the messenger, messages from the Shaman flooded in as expected:
– Hey
– Why haven’t you been active on Horror Story Gallery lately?
– Answer your phone!
– Don’t ignore me! Pick up the phone!
– Pick up, pick up, pick up, pick up…
– …Are you dead?
– Let us know if you’re alive or dead!
– Damn…
The messages went on endlessly. There were dozens of missed calls and hundreds of direct messages. The most recent one came ten minutes ago.
Scrolling through them, I noticed the tone shifted from casual at first, then grew increasingly worried, and finally turned almost angry.
‘Hmm…’
I hesitated for a moment, wondering how to respond. Should I apologize first? Or explain first?
I repeatedly deleted and rewrote the message several times.
Eventually, I decided it was best to let them know I was alive first.
– I’m not dead, so don’t worry.
After sending it, I realized it might have come off too casually. As I was about to add a proper explanation, the phone rang—it was the Shaman.
The voice on the other end of the line wasn’t playful as usual; it was filled with anger.
“Hey! What have you been doing all this time? Not answering calls, not being active on Horror Story Gallery—we thought you were dead!”
Her shout was loud enough to make my ears ring. I pulled the phone slightly away from my ear.
“I’m sorry… I couldn’t contact anyone because of an infiltration mission into a cult.”
“You could’ve posted something on Horror Story Gallery beforehand!”
Her voice was full of reproach. Through the speaker, I could hear her sigh—a sigh that carried genuine concern rather than her usual nonchalant tone.
“Well, I was worried there might be someone within the Divine Path who monitors Horror Story Gallery…”
Though it sounded like an excuse, it was true. In a situation where there might be informants within the Divine Path, posting anything on Horror Story Gallery would have been risky.
A brief silence followed. From the other end of the line, I could hear typing sounds. She was probably checking Horror Story Gallery.
“…I’m just glad you’re alive. Next time, let us know in advance if something like this happens.”
Her voice softened considerably. The sharpness from earlier was gone, replaced by a hint of fatigue.
After the call ended, the tension in my shoulders eased. Outside the hospital window, the sun was setting.
I still couldn’t pass out yet—I needed to report my survival on Horror Story Gallery.
When I logged into the gallery, posts expressing concern about my disappearance appeared:
[Title] Survived for a Month? Impressive!
[Title] Catastrophe Foundation is Tough!
[Title] Praying for White Night’s Return – Day 35
I didn’t expect so many people to worry about me. Given the typically cynical atmosphere of the gallery, it was quite surprising.
I quickly posted an update:
– [Title] I’m Fine
– [Author]: [White Night]
– Content: You remember the subway ads the Divine Path spread recently? I was undercover inside their organization, which is why I couldn’t participate in the gallery. 😉
Comments started flooding in instantly. Notifications kept popping up.
[Hikiko]: You should’ve warned us before going MIA! We thought you were dead!
└[White Night]: Sorry, sorry. There’s a chance some Divine Path members monitor the gallery, so I couldn’t risk it.
It was the Shaman’s comment. She still seemed upset. Considering how much she must have worried during this time, it was understandable. Just a few days ago, there were daily posts praying for my soul on Horror Story Gallery.
[AnalogueLover]: Oh, so it was you who helped with the arrest of Divine Path leaders on our side!
└[White Night]: Yup.
└[AnalogueLover]: Anyway, I’m glad you’re safe!
This was from AnalogueLover, who mentioned joining the National Abnormal Disaster Prevention Agency. It seems other organizations were also keeping an eye on the Divine Path.
[Cryptid]: So what kind of horror story was involved this time? The Divine Path must be trying to use something, right?
└[White Night]: You know CTP-1266? The former leader tried to use that anomaly. Luckily, the conditions weren’t met, so things didn’t escalate further.
└[Cryptid]: Ah, I sort of understand what you mean.
Just as I was reading through the comments,
“Mr. Jeong Woo, you’re awake.”
The door opened, and a doctor walked in. Behind him stood Narae and Cheon Seungsu.
“Fortunately, there are no significant abnormalities. Please let us know if you feel any discomfort.”
The doctor checked the chart and left. Only Narae and Cheon Seungsu remained in the room.
Cheon Seungsu approached the window and slightly pulled back the curtain. The sunset streamed into the room.
“Mr. Jeong Woo, you’ve done something extraordinary this time.”
His usual sharp gaze was absent, replaced by a satisfied expression.
“I heard from Narae that you stopped the Dawn God’s human sacrifice ritual from transforming into an anomalous entity.”
At his words, I turned my head to look at Narae. She smirked while looking down at me.
“I’ve reported this to higher-ups, and approximately 5 billion won will be deposited into your account as an incentive.”
The number “5 billion” echoed in my ears.
Despite not receiving any Dalants, it was comforting to know I’d receive monetary compensation.
“However…”
Cheon Seungsu paused briefly before continuing.
“In the final evaluation, we couldn’t fully suppress the anomalous entity. Therefore, it’s difficult to consider this mission a complete success.”
I nodded. After all, all we accomplished was uncovering the Divine Path’s plot and thwarting the Dawn God’s plan.
“Nevertheless, since you worked tirelessly for an entire month, take a week off before returning to work.”
Cheon Seungsu left the room with Narae. Once the door closed behind them, the tension lifted.
By now, the sun had completely set outside the window. City lights began to twinkle one by one.
‘A week-long vacation…’
As I stared at my smartphone, a message arrived.
-Hey Jeong Woo, let’s go fishing this weekend.
-Let’s eat fresh fish sashimi too! 😄
It was from Seo Hyeon Woo, a high school friend. Scrolling up, I saw several messages he sent over the past few weeks.
– Are you free this weekend?
– Hey, reply already!
– Are you still alive?
For a month, I hadn’t properly contacted him either.
Looking at his profile picture on the smartphone screen, memories of high school days resurfaced.
Weekends spent fishing. Drinking soju at roadside stalls after failing exams. Watching horror movies together in our shared apartment during boring times—those ordinary days.
-Sorry, I’ve been busy with work.
As I sent the message, a sudden thought crossed my mind.
‘Come to think of it…’
Since reality became intertwined with horror stories, I hadn’t taken a proper break or traveled anywhere—not even gone fishing. Every day felt like a battle to survive.
City lights sparkled beyond the hospital window. Somewhere out there, ordinary people were living their everyday lives.
‘I can’t keep going on like this.’
Being afraid of horror entities and locking myself indoors every vacation had its limits.
And staying cooped up at home wouldn’t guarantee safety from these horrors anyway.
In fact, isolating myself might make me more vulnerable to unexpected anomalies.
– I can make it this weekend.
– Let’s meet on Wednesday.
After sending the reply, I looked out the window. The moon was rising between the city lights.
‘I hope… nothing unusual happens this time.’
Yet, I wondered if such expectations were now a luxury. In a world already transformed by horror stories, perhaps normalcy no longer existed.
The clock ticked softly in the darkness, as if foretelling something.