Sa-young took three steps back. The hands pouring out of the void seized Nam Woo-jin and Jeong Bin.
And thenâ
Rip.
A sound like paper tearing filled the room. The pale hands were slowly tearing the two men apart. The torn areas glowed with a golden light, and other hands moved to patch the glowing spaces with their own forms. Where eyes were removed, new eyes took their place.
ââ¦â¦â
The hands moved with meticulous precision. One hand tore away a part, another filled the void with something new, and yet another stitched the seams together like a needle and thread. Nam Woo-jin and Jeong Bin were being literally reconstructed.
It was a grotesque sight.
When the two men were fully reassembled, their forms complete, a distant murmur began to swell. The scent of old books and wood, the slightly stale airâall of it settled back into place. The world began to move once more.
Nam Woo-jin and Jeong Bin slowly opened their eyes. Without so much as a glance at Sa-young or Uijae, they walked off somewhere.
Only after the two disappeared from view did Sa-young realize he had been holding his breath. He gasped for air, his throat tightening as he exhaled shakily. Wiping his face with his hand, he processed what had just happened. Asking Nam Woo-jin for help was clearly not an option anymoreâit would only lead to a repeat of this nightmare.
Then what can I do? What can I possibly do for someone who can barely stand being near me?n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
Sa-young carefully propped Uijae against the bookshelf, draping his coat over him like a blanket. Squatting down in front of him, he studied his face. Uijaeâs ashen hair seemed to glow white under the dim light.
This worldâs Cha Uijae was mutating.
Now it was clear. The reason why this worldâs Uijae had met such a hollow and swift end. He had chosen death himself. Because he didnât want to become a monster. Even though he was terrified of dying.