After the Oblivion Guild team disappeared into the distance like an overprepared boy scout troop, Kim Byeol-ha yawned loudly, stretching like a lazy cat.
Finally, peace.Finally, rest.
He flopped back onto the dusty ground, arms spread out, staring up at the depressing mess that was the sky.
"Gotta admit," he muttered, "Earth really went for that 'end of the world but make it aesthetic' vibe."
He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the four stupid moons glaring down at him.
Maybe just five minutes...
His mind drifted peacefully, halfway to nap town—
—and then he heard it.
A sharp thud.A muffled whimper.A disgusting, wet smack of skin hitting skin.
Followed by—
"...Ah—No, stop—"
Byeol-ha's eyes snapped open instantly.
The playful, lazy air around him evaporated like smoke.His golden gaze sharpened into a deadly glint.
Gone was the careless stray cat.In his place was something colder, sharper — something that remembered what it was like to tear gods from their thrones.
He stood up without a sound.
His body blurred, a ripple of distorted air, and in a blink, he was no longer lying on the street.
He materialized silently in front of a broken, filthy building.A blue-and-green door hung crooked on its hinges, chipped and rotting.
The sounds were coming from behind it.Sharp gasps. Weak protests.
Byeol-ha's lip curled in disgust.
He kicked the door with a strength that belied his fragile-looking frame.
CRACK.
The door exploded inward, wood splinters raining like confetti.
The room inside was filthy — crumbling walls, broken furniture — and right there, center stage, was a nightmare.
A large man, reeking of alcohol and something fouler, was pinning a smaller figure to the ground — a boy, no older than sixteen, his clothes shredded, his body shaking.
The boy's face — delicate, bruised, terrified — turned slightly at the sound of the door.
Tears streaked down his pale cheeks.
Byeol-ha's vision tunneled.
The temperature in the room plummeted.
The man turned, drunk and furious.
"Who the hell—"
He never finished.
Byeol-ha moved faster than sight.
One second he was at the door — the next, his fist connected with the man's face with a sickening crack that shattered bone.
The man flew backward, crashing into the wall hard enough to leave a crater.
Byeol-ha stood over him, radiating a cold so absolute it made the walls frost over.
He could end this man in a blink.He wanted to.
His fingers twitched, power humming under his skin.
Just a little pulse of divine energy — that's all it would take to erase him.
But—
Byeol-ha gritted his teeth.
This was Earth.
Not the divine realms where killing was casual paperwork.
Earth still had rules.Stupid, bureaucratic, technical rules about "murder is illegal" and "no vaporizing disgusting humans without a court trial."
He exhaled slowly, forcing the urge down.
Instead, he turned his attention to the boy.
The kid flinched as Byeol-ha crouched down beside him.
Too thin, Byeol-ha thought grimly. Too bruised. Too much fear.
Without a word, he summoned a clean silk cloth from his storage ring — soft, embroidered faintly with protection runes.
He wrapped the boy carefully, gently, as if handling something breakable.
The boy looked at him with wide, glassy eyes, confused, terrified, but also — faintly — relieved.
Byeol-ha picked him up easily, ignoring the blood, the dirt, the shaking.
The boy weighed nothing.Less than nothing.
Byeol-ha stood, cradling him close to his chest like a brother, like a promise.
He turned once to glance back at the unconscious man.
The walls around the man cracked quietly, unseen vines of divine energy fracturing the room.
Let him live — but barely.
The next time Byeol-ha passed by, if that scum hadn't repented by then...
Well.Accidents happened in post-apocalyptic slums every day.
With a flick of his fingers, Byeol-ha vanished again, the boy bundled safely in his arms.
He reappeared several alleys over, far from the disgusting scene, setting the boy down gently on a relatively clean patch of grass.
The boy clutched the silk around himself, still shaking.
Byeol-ha crouched in front of him, golden eyes softening a fraction.
"You're safe," he said quietly.
The boy whimpered and nodded, not quite trusting his voice yet.
Byeol-ha leaned back on his heels, studying him thoughtfully.
No injuries that couldn't be healed.No curses or dark contracts on him.Just trauma — old and fresh — clinging to him like smoke.
"You got family around?" Byeol-ha asked, voice still oddly gentle.
The boy hesitated, then shook his head miserably.
Of course.
Because Earth was kind like that.
Byeol-ha sighed, running a hand through his long black hair.
His mind raced, calculating.
He couldn't just leave the kid here.
He could drop him off with the Oblivion Guild?
No... too chaotic.The kid would just get lost in the system.
Maybe the neighbor, Park Jun-ho?
Nope. Dude barely had food for himself.
Byeol-ha huffed.
"Guess I picked up a side quest," he muttered dryly.
The boy blinked at him.
"Don't worry," Byeol-ha said, flashing a lazy grin. "I'm very good at side quests."
The boy looked at him like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.
Byeol-ha stood up and offered his hand.
"C'mon. We'll find you someplace better than a rotting floor."
The boy stared at his hand, then — slowly, tentatively — reached out and grasped it.
Byeol-ha pulled him up effortlessly.
Another problem.Another stray picked up.
But hey — what was family, if not the people you decided to drag along for the ride?
He ruffled the boy's hair lightly.
"First rule," he said. "Stick close to me. Second rule: no crying unless I'm also crying. Third rule: if you see zombies, punch them first, scream later."
The boy sniffled and gave the tiniest, wobbliest smile Byeol-ha had ever seen.
He picked up the boy and went on his way.
Carrying the boy piggyback-style for a while — because, honestly, he looked like he could blow away with a strong breeze — Kim Byeol-ha finally stopped near a pile of crushed vending machines.
He crouched down and set the kid on his feet carefully.
"Alright," he said, brushing dust off his sleeves. "Name?"
The boy clutched the silk cloth tighter around himself and said quietly:
"Han Seo-jin."
Byeol-ha nodded.
Han Seo-jin. Not a bad name.A little soft around the edges, but considering what he'd survived, the kid had probably earned a tougher one.
"Okay, Seo-jin," Byeol-ha said lazily, sticking his hands into his hoodie pockets, "since you're now officially my emergency navigation system, can you lead me to Slum District 8, House Number 8?"
Seo-jin blinked, then nodded seriously.
"I've lived in District 8 since the start," he said, his voice still rough but steadier now. "I know it really well."
"Good." Byeol-ha grinned. "Because if I had to rely on my own memory, we'd be circling the same trash can for another three hours."
Seo-jin didn't laugh — not fully — but a small smile cracked the corner of his mouth.
Good enough.
With Seo-jin leading the way, they began weaving through the broken alleys.
The boy moved fast, ducking under fallen beams and hopping over potholes like he'd been born on this kind of battlefield.
Byeol-ha followed lazily, kicking a stray can here and there, whistling tunelessly.
About five minutes into their silent walk, Byeol-ha's curiosity piqued.
He casually asked:
"So, this District 8... Nobody runs it? No lord? No gang boss?"
Seo-jin shook his head immediately, his messy hair flopping.
And then, like someone had turned on a faucet, the boy started talking — words spilling out in a rush, like he was desperate to fill the air with something, anything, other than memories of earlier.
"District 8's basically abandoned," Seo-jin said quickly. "It's too poor. No resources. No spiritual energy. It's full of disabled people, old people, kids like me. No guild wants to waste money here."
Byeol-ha raised an eyebrow.
Wow. Earth politics stayed trashy even after the apocalypse. Impressive.
Seo-jin kept going, voice picking up speed.
"After the First Calamity, the whole country broke into sixteen districts. Some were lucky. They got organized fast, formed local governments, guilds took over, built defenses."
Byeol-ha nodded along lazily.
Sixteen districts, huh. Easier to manage if you ignore the parts that are already on fire, I guess.
"But District 8..." Seo-jin said, voice turning bitter. "We're bottom priority. Only reason monsters don't flood here is because there's nothing worth eating. Even the zombies don't bother."
Byeol-ha whistled low.
"Impressive," he said. "We're even too poor for zombies."
Seo-jin smiled a little again but rushed on.
"There are five big guilds now. They run the safest, richest districts."
Byeol-ha tilted his head.
"Big five, huh? Hit me with the names."
Seo-jin counted off on his fingers.
"First, there's Oblivion Guild," he said, eyes shining with a mix of fear and awe. "They're the strongest. Everyone knows them. Baek Ryeo-woon — their leader — he's... unbeatable."
Byeol-ha grinned lazily.
Yup. Met him. He yells orders and has eight-pack abs. Good for him.
"Second," Seo-jin continued, "is Heaven's Edge Guild. They're all about speed and assassination. Super secretive. Their leader's called Ryu Shi-won. No one's ever seen his real face."
"Mysterious ninja type. Got it," Byeol-ha said.
"Third," Seo-jin said, "is Ironblood Vanguard. They control the biggest territory. Huge walls. Huge armies. Their leader's Han Yoo-seok — known as the Immovable Fortress."
Byeol-ha made a face.
"Sounds like a guy who would yell at you for stepping on his lawn."
Seo-jin giggled faintly but pushed on.
"Fourth is Silverfang Dominion. Mostly beast-tamers and physical Awakened. Their leader's Lee Min-ah — she's super famous. Supposedly can wrestle a dungeon dragon with her bare hands."
Byeol-ha chuckled.
"Silverfang Dominion." Sounds like a weird MMORPG guild but whatever works.
"And last," Seo-jin said, "is Celestial Dawn. They're weird. All about divine powers and magic users. Their leader's a woman called Park Seul-bi. People say she can control entire weather systems."
Byeol-ha whistled again.
"Weather girl. Nice."
Seo-jin nodded seriously.
"They each control different districts, and their headquarters are basically small cities now."
Byeol-ha processed that with a slow nod.
So:
Oblivion = Muscle and brain combo.
Heaven's Edge = Stealth maniacs.
Ironblood = Wall-obsessed turtle army.
Silverfang = Beast circus.
Celestial Dawn = Weather nerds.
Earth had gone full RPG mode while he was gone.Neat.
Byeol-ha casually glanced at Seo-jin, still leading confidently through the wrecked streets.
"You know a lot," he said lightly.
Seo-jin flushed a little.
"I listen," he said simply. "It's important. Information keeps you alive."
Byeol-ha's lazy smile deepened.
Smart kid.
Useful kid.
Family, maybe.
As they walked, the battered skyline of District 8 finally came into view — crumbling roofs, shattered windows, broken lampposts leaning drunkenly.
Home sweet home.
In a strange, broken, patched-together way... it really did feel like home.
Byeol-ha shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie and grinned at the miserable scenery.
"Perfect," he muttered under his breath.
Seo-jin glanced back at him, confused.