“Yes, well. We handle them. Semi-humans appear suddenly in various places nationwide, so they’re often exposed to people. We immediately gather the witnesses under the pretext of investigation and administer a drug that erases memories on the spot.”
A drug that erases memories. Joo Seonghan looked at Han Jaejun with a flustered face. Han Jaejun shrugged.
“Science has developed much more than you think, Joo Seonghan-ssi. A drug that erases memories is nothing special. We can even control the time depending on the dosage. Memories from a minimum of thirty minutes to two hours before the administration time can be erased with a 98 percent probability without side effects, and beyond two hours there are some side effects. They say people suffer from periodic migraines or a few memories get mixed up, but usually the Semi-Human Department catches semi-humans within two hours, so such cases are rare.”
“Do you administer it to pregnant women too?”
Deputy Lee, who would have survived from the karaoke, was pregnant. Though they weren’t particularly close, they were the two people Joo Seonghan had risked his life to protect. He was concerned about her well-being.
“Of course. There are no exceptions. Well… there probably won’t be any problems for the mother or fetus either. I’ve never heard of any problems related to that.”
The uncertain ending bothered him, but there was nothing more to be gained by pressing Han Jaejun. Joo Seonghan quickly resigned himself and brought up the question that had been circling in his head.
“Then by any chance… is your good eyesight also a similar context to the memory-erasing drug? Scientific advancement.”
Han Jaejun wrinkled his nose. He wasn’t frowning. He seemed to find it somewhat amusing.
“Yes. I have good eyesight, and Hyeonjoo has good recovery ability. We enhanced those abilities with drugs, but we didn’t deliberately choose them—the abilities that can be enhanced differ from person to person. There are also kids who can’t enhance anything.”
It was absurd, but Joo Seonghan had seen and felt everything. He couldn’t not believe it. Rather, it was amazing that he had lived without knowing anything until now.
“…You said you hide this fact because the world would be in chaos.”
“Yes. To answer your earlier question, aside from the President and their proxy, the Semi-Human Department, and the research institute studying semi-humans, no one knows about the existence of semi-humans. Research is ongoing, but we haven’t even figured out why the ghost gates open, let alone the existence of semi-humans. If the existence of semi-humans became known to the world in this situation, it’s obvious there would be pandemonium, right? Since they appear infrequently, it’s at a level we can handle sufficiently among ourselves, and actually, there aren’t many casualties either.”
Joo Seonghan lowered his gaze from Han Jaejun. Statistically, compared to the number of semi-human appearances, there might be few casualties, but at least it wasn’t the case at the karaoke. Everyone except Joo Seonghan and Deputy Lee had died. The work colleagues who had been drinking together just a few hours ago were slaughtered. Their screams, familiar yet unfamiliar, and the semi-human’s high-pitched cry reached Joo Seonghan’s ears. Tsk. Han Jaejun’s tongue-clicking sound suddenly pierced through the clamor. Joo Seonghan raised his head.
“Uh, what was it. I’m sorry if your feelings were hurt.”
Han Jaejun scratched the back of his head and suddenly apologized. Why is he apologizing? Joo Seonghan looked at Han Jaejun with questioning eyes.
“For saying tactless things like there aren’t many casualties….”
Han Jaejun trailed off and ran his hand down his face. Joo Seonghan opened his eyes wide and waved his hands.
“No, it’s not something for Han Jaejun-ssi to apologize for. I just… I was thinking whether it’s right to cover it up like this….”
“Maybe they can’t handle it?”
The answer came from elsewhere. Creak, Kang Hyeonjoo, who opened the door and came in, sat cross-legged across from them. He checked his wristwatch and continued speaking while looking at Joo Seonghan.
“Although they’re relatively easy to catch, if the existence of semi-humans became known to the world, people would refrain from going out, and parents wouldn’t send their children to school. Moreover, to relieve anxiety, they’d have to increase the Semi-Human Department’s manpower, so they’d invest more funds than now. Perhaps on top of that, guns might be permitted nationwide. There’s a possibility that citizens would demand guns be permitted so they can protect themselves. If that happens, people would live armed. Maybe they’re afraid to handle that change.”
“Hey, that’s enough. That’s not for us to judge.”
“Ye-es, ye-es. That’s right. Judgment is for those sitting above. We just move our bodies as we’re told.”
“If you don’t like it, write a pledge and resign.”
At Han Jaejun’s words, Kang Hyeonjoo made a retching motion. Han Jaejun’s face crumpled as if looking at something disgusting. While they were frowning for different reasons, Joo Seonghan looked down at his fingers that hadn’t fully drained of blood.
“But… they don’t seem relatively easy to catch….”
Many people were killed by one, and even the experts nearly died. In Joo Seonghan’s view, semi-humans were sufficiently threatening.
“That was a special case.”
Han Jaejun said. He pulled up the pants he had been half-wearing and continued his explanation.
“Pregnant semi-humans have abnormally superior physical abilities—unless it’s a thin-skinned area, they’re hard to pierce even with a knife, and bullets deflect as if they’re wearing armor. It’s incredibly annoying to encounter one. But that was the first time we’ve faced one that strong.”
“That’s right. The belly swelled noticeably fast. I’ve never seen a case like this. Plus, this time six semi-humans came out of the Guimun. Something’s strange.”
Kang Hyeonjoo chimed in agreement with Han Jaejun’s words. Joo Seonghan looked at the two people lost in thought, then picked up the gourd dipper. Because the conversation was getting long, he was failing to catch the timing to go fetch water. It was the same this time too. Just as he was about to get up, something came to mind to ask, so Joo Seonghan postponed quenching his thirst.
“You said no one has ever entered the Guimun before, right?”
He spoke toward Han Jaejun. He slowly nodded his head.
“Was this also the first time you saw a Guimun open?”
“Yes. I only saw it in books. Well, we always deploy after the Guimun opens, so. I learned that a black pit forms, but I didn’t know the range would be this large. Honestly, Hyeonjoo, I thought you wouldn’t get caught up in it.”
“Yes. I thought so too.”
Kang Hyeonjoo, who answered lighter than a feather, rummaged through his pockets. Tsk tsk, cheeky bastard. Han Jaejun, who spoke quietly, likewise patted down his own body and emptied his pockets. Joo Seonghan rolled his eyes following their busily moving hands, then carefully opened his mouth.
“…We… can’t go back home?”
The two men in black suits looked at Joo Seonghan. Thud, thud. They put down the emergency rations they took out of their pockets on the floor. Chocolate bars, energy bars, caramel, biscuits, candy…
“I thought so, but after discovering this place, my thoughts changed.”
Han Jaejun said while looking up at the rough-looking ceiling. The light from the flashlight was drawing a round circle on the yellowed ceiling.
“Anyone can see this is a house made by humans. It means there’s something wrong with the semi-human and Guimun education we received.”
“Sunbae-nim is right. I looked around, and about 300 meters away I found a broken jewelry box and a rickshaw. It means there were people who crossed the Guimun before us. They even built a house with a well attached and pulled rickshaws. Perhaps the people of that time created Guimuns somewhere and freely crossed back and forth. We should pin our hopes on that and find the Guimun before the food runs out.”
After finishing speaking, Kang Hyeonjoo, who quickly counted the number of food items, raised his eyebrows.
“But even if we save it, it’s three days’ worth. And Sunbae-nim and I counted it as one bite per day, not even one meal.”
“Are there any beasts or rivers outside?”
“None. I didn’t see a single bird.”
Han Jaejun rubbed his cheek with a serious face. Joo Seonghan, sitting next to him, also chewed only the mucous membrane inside his mouth with a stiff expression.
“Weapons?”
Han Jaejun asked while taking out his pistol and magazine from his chest and examining them. Kang Hyeonjoo across from him also checked the weapons he had. He put aside the silencer he had been carrying around, which was no longer needed, and took out the magazine.
“One Sig. Two magazines. What about you, Sunbae-nim?”
“Two Glocks. About three magazines.”
Han Jaejun said while examining the pistol magazines.
“It’s a bit desperate, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. It’d be a bit better if we at least had a rifle, fuck.”
Han Jaejun, who spoke with annoyance, left one useless rifle magazine on the floor. When he crossed over here, he threw the assault rifle with the silencer attached far away. It was because he didn’t have time to change the magazine, but he couldn’t bring it while frantically crossing the Guimun. Kang Hyeonjoo’s situation also wasn’t very good. Annoyed at the nimbly moving semi-human, he threw away one pistol when he changed weapons to a knife, and he didn’t have many bullets either. Since bullets weren’t plentiful, if they encountered semi-humans, it seemed they should choose to avoid rather than fight as much as possible.
“Ah, this is something I need to confirm once more later.”
Kang Hyeonjoo, who had been tapping the floor with his fingertips, suddenly spoke. Joo Seonghan looked at him, and Han Jaejun asked “What?” while putting the gun in his shoulder holster.
“Time seems to have stopped.”
Kang Hyeonjoo, who spoke refreshingly, took out a hip flask and wet his throat once. He, who was nonchalantly receiving the passionate gazes of Han Jaejun and Joo Seonghan, leisurely wiped his lips then added an explanation.
“The sky isn’t moving.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Literally. The stars, the moon, they’re not moving from that spot. We’re breathing and the wind blows occasionally, so the expression that time has stopped is a bit wrong, but anyway, the sky has definitely stopped. Think about it. Since we arrived, it hasn’t gotten darker or brighter.”
Joo Seonghan, who had been quietly keeping his mouth shut, rewound and replayed Kang Hyeonjoo’s words. And asked.
“You’re saying the sun won’t rise?”
