Chapter 127
Park Chan-woo didn’t know Han Min-oh.
To be precise, he knew of him, but couldn’t categorize him as a person.
There was only one thing he knew for certain about Han Min-oh.
He was the younger brother of Han Shin, the hypocrite who pretended to be humanity’s savior.
Ever since the Abyss came crashing down, Han Min-oh had been someone who was supposed to die.
He had exited quickly and was never mentioned again.
So it was only natural that he didn’t know more.
‘They say blood doesn’t lie.’
That’s why he had to be all the more cautious.
If Han Min-oh had the same hypocritical tendencies as Han Shin…
…then even without a Creator’s contract, he could become a great threat to humanity.
Considering the influence that comes from contracting a divine beast, he and Han Shin could make for a truly disastrous duo.
More importantly—
‘Is he even a vessel capable of holding a divine beast?’
What kind of divine beast he’d contracted with was important, but what mattered even more was whether Han Min-oh was worthy of it.
Power beyond one’s vessel often turned into poison.
Half-hearted sympathy was no different.
If he spared him and a Creator later stole the divine beast away, that would be the worst possible outcome.
It would be better to let him die now and have the contract voided.
Someone might look at Park Chan-woo and say:
How can you judge a person’s life on such value?
But…
Park Chan-woo remembered.
The betrayals of those once praised and hailed as heroes by the masses.
How their shifts had devastated humanity.
‘Humans are scarier than Creators.’
He had never trusted Creators to begin with.
But humans, being social creatures, inherently trusted one another.
And so the backlash when that trust was broken was beyond measure.
That was why Park Chan-woo couldn’t help but be cautious.
…Han Min-oh wasn’t someone he knew.
He was someone who was never supposed to be alive.
Even if he was spared, the Creators would never give up on him.
‘I need to finish assessing everything inside here before the large-scale Sniper Abyss begins.’
The time limit was 72 hours.
And it wasn’t just Han Min-oh he needed to evaluate.
The Incarnations. The level and capabilities of the Creators who contracted them.
How many were there, what was their hierarchy, and how prepared were they?
By watching how they reacted inside this Abyss, he could glean a great deal.
That way, he’d be able to respond properly when the large-scale Sniper Abyss came.
‘…I may need to bankrupt all of them.’
Park Chan-woo’s gaze toward Han Min-oh sank deeply.
—
People who were thrown into chaos after the Abyss’s invasion quickly regained their composure.
“Han Min-oh. That second son from Han Yeon Group?”
“Yeah, looks like it. Judging from all the bodyguards around him.”
“Isn’t it over after 72 hours anyway?”
“Then it should be bearable… right?”
They didn’t need to unite and kill Han Min-oh.
After all, once 72 hours passed, the Abyss would end, and the only penalty was the exposure of the Incarnations’ identities.
Those who weren’t Incarnations had no reason to panic.
The problem lay with the Incarnations.
Han Min-oh’s bodyguards.
They exchanged cautious glances.
‘Even the Creators seem confused.’
‘Was the Abyss really opened by one of our Creators?’
‘If our identities as Incarnations are exposed, our lives are over.’
They were Incarnations with thoroughly cleaned backgrounds.
No one knew their true nature.
They had hidden it desperately.
Public sentiment toward Incarnations had soured rapidly.
Just checking the news or social media gave you all the info you needed:
– “Humans Who Made Deals with Devils!”
– “Incarnations—Who Are They?”
– “How to Identify the Villains of the Abyss”
Their misdeeds in the Abyss had piled up quickly.
And the Incarnations were beginning to realize that soon, “Incarnation hunting” might begin.
They also knew the Abyss Safety Bureau had already begun compiling an “Incarnation kill list.”
‘If your name’s on that list… it’s over.’
‘You’ll be monitored constantly.’
‘If you’re lucky. More likely, you’ll get quietly assassinated.’
Incarnations cared deeply about their own survival.
They absolutely had to avoid getting publicly branded.
The Incarnations were still weak, after all.
“…Young master, please don’t worry. We’ll protect you.”
The team leader of the bodyguards, Kim Chan-min, spoke.
Over forty bodyguards—Incarnations—followed his lead with unwavering composure.
He had even handed over a precious coin, so there was no reason for Han Min-oh to suspect them.
“Thank you. But… it seems the Incarnations are targeting me.”
Han Min-oh quickly assessed the situation.
Based on the message, he suspected that the ‘Incarnations’ were the ones trying to kill him.
It also seemed there were quite a few of them among the crowd.
If they wanted to avoid exposure, they’d act desperately.
“Yes. Just stay close to us, and you’ll be safe.”
Team Leader Kim Chan-min spoke with confidence.
He’d quickly realized that the Incarnations were the enemy—but failed to realize that all his protectors were also Incarnations.
He then glanced at his fellow guards, sending an unspoken message.
‘We’ve got time. Let’s talk it out among ourselves.’
—
Half a day passed.
By the time everyone had grown weary and fallen asleep—
Kim Chan-min gathered only the most trusted behind a building.
“The Creator I’m contracted with says there’s a traitor among us.”
At that, the other guards nodded.
“Yes. I heard something similar.”
“They don’t know whether it’s one traitor or several.”
The Creators were just as displeased as the Incarnations.
Kim Chan-min stroked his chin.
“We blocked eight coins. That means multiple Creators must’ve been involved in this Abyss.”
Eight coins had been used in an attempt to get Han Min-oh out.
And yet he still failed to escape.
That meant one—or more—Creators had spent the same number of coins to block him.
Still, it seemed unlikely a single Creator used all eight coins alone.
After organizing his thoughts, Kim Chan-min continued.
“The first step is finding the traitor. Only then can we plan for what comes after this Abyss ends.”
“So we’re not killing Han Min-oh?”
“We can kill him anytime. But the Creators likely don’t want him dead yet.”
“…Then what do we do?”
“We stage an accident, isolate Han Min-oh, and kill every witness.”
“All those people over there?”
“Yes.”
A blunt answer.
He casually mentioned killing a thousand people without a hint of hesitation.
Among them were elderly, pregnant women, and children.
But they were Incarnations.
Their own safety came first.
“What if Han Min-oh finds out through a message?”
One raised a concern.
Kim Chan-min smirked.
“At most, it’ll display a name. None of us are using real names, right?”
All of them used aliases.
Even the name Kim Chan-min was fake.
Not just his name—his entire identity was forged.
‘The power of the Incarnation Union is no joke.’
They’d started out hostile, but the Incarnations had quietly begun working together.
Incarnations existed everywhere—from politics to finance.
Though they were split into cells, and few knew who led whom, forging identities was child’s play for the Incarnation Union.
A guard nodded.
“…You’re right.”
“We’ll knock Han Min-oh out. As long as he doesn’t see it when the Sniper Abyss ends, he won’t suspect we’re Incarnations.”
“And the corpses will vanish like dust anyway. He’ll assume some of them were the Incarnations.”
“This isn’t the real world—it’s the Abyss.”
“Damn. The Abyss is awesome.”
This was the Abyss.
To them, it was a game.
That’s why they could so casually plan the massacre of a thousand people.
“Anyway, what the traitor wants is to monopolize Han Min-oh. They want us to get desperate and start turning on each other.”
The guards listened closely.
They were eager to hear how they would root out the traitor.
Kim Chan-min continued in a cold voice.
“Our job is simple. Get a firm grip on Han Min-oh.”
He scanned each of the guards nearby.
He could trust these ones.
They were mercenaries who had fought across every battlefield in the world.
They had lived and died together for over a decade—none of them would stab him in the back.
After confirming their determined expressions, Kim Chan-min spoke again.
“We’re going to kidnap Han Min-oh.”
—
Park Chan-woo quietly eavesdropped on their conversation.
He didn’t need to try hiding.
This was the Abyss—and inside it, the power of [Nonexistent] was active.
Unless he revealed himself first, they’d never notice him.
‘Things are getting interesting.’
So they were plotting a kidnapping.
That much had been expected.
But what amused him was something else entirely.
‘They’re all thinking the exact same thing.’
Those planning the kidnapping weren’t the only ones.
Other groups were forming too, each gauging the situation.
Each waiting to see who would make the first move.
They were all planning to act once they secured the “Han Min-oh card.”
Then one group made the first move.
“Guh!”
“Ugh!”
Taking advantage of the darkness, they knocked out the surrounding guards.
“Who are you… mff!”
A cloth soaked in strong sedative was pressed over Han Min-oh’s face.
The moment he slumped over, the masked group immediately carried him to a secluded area.
Park Chan-woo followed them at a leisurely pace.
—
‘What…?’
When Han Min-oh came to, he couldn’t believe the situation.
He couldn’t see.
He was bound and couldn’t move.
He had definitely been kidnapped.
‘Incarnations. They’re Incarnations.’
He was sure of it.
Don’t panic.
Han Min-oh pretended to still be unconscious and focused on listening.
“Wouldn’t it be better to just kill him?”
“The others will probably catch on soon.”
“If we get exposed…”
“There are only two options anyway. Kill Han Min-oh, or kill everyone outside.”
“I think it’s better to spare Han Min-oh. We can’t completely ignore the Creator’s will.”
“Right. Killing a thousand outsiders is better. It’s no good for us to fight among ourselves.”
Who were they?
The voices were vaguely familiar.
They were speaking quietly, but he was sure he had heard them before.
‘…The bodyguards?’
He was stunned.
Unless his ears were lying, it was definitely them.
Could there really have been Incarnations among the bodyguards?
At that moment—
“Wait. He’s awake.”
One of them, silent until now, spoke.
He had seen through Han Min-oh’s act.
Panic rippled through the others.
“…Huh?”
“We gave him a sedative strong enough to knock out an elephant, and he’s already awake?”
“Wait—then he must’ve heard us?”
Ah.
The worst-case scenario.
Then one of them, realizing Han Min-oh was conscious, said,
“Looks like we’ll have to kill him.”
Shing.
The sound of a blade slicing through the air.
A cold sword hovered near Han Min-oh’s neck.
Damn it.
Han Min-oh clenched his eyes shut.
He had no way out of this situation.
“Bad luck, Han Min-oh. Goodbye—urk!”
“Gah!”
“What the—?!”
Just as Han Min-oh’s throat was about to be cut—
Someone appeared and attacked them.
In an instant, everything went silent.
Shhk.
The blindfold covering his eyes slid down.
Han Min-oh cautiously opened his eyes and looked at the man who had resolved the situation.
“Are… are you all right?”
“…Wh-Who are you?”
“Who am I?”
Han Min-oh nodded.
The man—Park Chan-woo—shrugged.
“Just someone passing by.”