Chapter 137

“I refuse.”

Park Chan-woo answered immediately.

Taking on a disciple was nothing but a nuisance.

“…I… I see. It can’t be done?”

Han Min-oh looked up cautiously, his face filled with longing.

To him, Park Chan-woo was the strongest person in Korea.

Even though he hadn’t witnessed him fight properly, during their first meeting alone, he had saved him from a demon.

He had never heard of anyone capable of such a thing before.

Because even the weakest demon was at least level 50.

‘Maybe not just Korea… maybe he’s the strongest in the world.’

Becoming Park Chan-woo’s disciple would mean being under the tutelage of the world’s most powerful man.

His overwhelming swordsmanship that had slaughtered dozens of Incarnations at once—

If he could inherit that technique, he might even surpass his brother, Han Shin.

But Park Chan-woo thought differently.

“If you want to grow stronger, act alone.”

“Alone… in the Abyss?”

“Yes. Never rely on others inside the Abyss. That mindset will only make you weak. And the true Abyss isn’t something that allows anyone to help you.”

His advice was sincere.

‘The real Abyss hasn’t even appeared yet.’

The ones that had emerged on Earth so far were nothing but low-grade Abysses, created by mediocre Creators looking to make quick profit.

Even the “Second Night” crafted by the Master of the Moon, Ahheta, was merely a trial field filled with Doppelgangers to observe humanity’s potential.

They were nothing but “samples”—practice creations at best.

The truly vile Abysses, those made purely for despair, where demons reveled in human suffering and stripped them down to their very marrow—had not yet appeared.

‘Humanity has become nothing more than the demons’ playthings. We’ve always been the weakest in the Species War.’

He had no expectations left.

Even the number of coins that could be recovered was limited. Humanity was the weakest species—an investment that yielded no return.

In the demons’ eyes, humanity’s potential was “the worst.”

Of course, every Creator had to be bankrupted and erased.

But the tug-of-war until then was critical.

A necessary evil.

Humanity needed to prove that it still held potential—that it was a treasure trove of resources, capable of yielding vast amounts of coins, and perhaps even standing toe-to-toe with the Twelve Species.

To do that—

“Grow stronger. You have the potential to become a savior.”

Park Chan-woo looked directly into Han Min-oh’s eyes.

Both Lee Hyuk-soo and Han Min-oh—

Each had the potential to become a savior.

The coming world would no longer rely on Incarnations but need true heroes born as themselves.

For the sake of humanity—and to keep the Creators’ eyes fixed on them.

Han Min-oh stared blankly.

“…Me? A savior like Lee Hyuk-soo?”

Even with his trauma erased through their synchronization, it was still hard to believe.

‘What Han Min-oh needs is faith.’

Park Chan-woo was certain.

The memories he’d seen within the man’s soul were full of distrust and insecurity.

That was why he had lost confidence—and his talent had never shone.

He spoke with firm conviction.

“You can. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have saved you three times.”

“Ah…!”

Han Min-oh trembled.

That meant Park Chan-woo had seen something in him—something worth saving three separate times.

‘He wasn’t just a passerby!’

He was a benefactor. A miracle.

Han Min-oh bowed his head.

“Th-thank you. Could I perhaps get your contact information, so I can repay the debt someday…?”

“We’ll meet again.”

“Ah…”

His voice carried disappointment.

But this distance between them was for the best.

Park Chan-woo turned his back.

“And it will begin soon.”

“W-what will begin, sir?”

“The true Abyss.”

“The… true Abyss?”

Park Chan-woo didn’t answer.

He simply walked away in silence.

The days of large-scale Sniper Abysses were over.

But something far worse loomed ahead.

‘An Abyss filled purely with malice will appear.’

Up until now, Abysses had been created with the concept of “investment.”

They were meant to generate coins, to observe potential, to arrange Incarnations—all without true hostility.

But the next ones would be different.

They would be born from pure hatred—filled with resentment and evil intent.

Crack.

He clenched his fist.

At the same time—

Whoosh!

―Please, spare me!
―I’m not a heretic!
―Aaaagh!
―It burns! It burns!
―Mommy!

…Before his eyes appeared countless people burning on crucifixes.

And before them—stood a woman praying devoutly.

A saintly figure.

But—

‘The Fallen Saint. I must kill her with my own hands.’

That was no saint.

Such a being could never be called holy.

In some ways, she was even more dangerous than Han Shin.

The Fallen Saint, Yoo Jin-seo!

Ding!

《72 hours have passed. The Abyss will close.》
《The identities of the Incarnations will now be revealed!》
《Eight Incarnations remain. Light descends upon them.》

Swaaah—

Eight beams of light poured down from the sky.

And then, screams erupted everywhere.

“I’m not! I’m not an Incarnation!”
“T-this must be a mistake!”
“Damn it! There’s no way I’m one of them!”

Park Chan-woo smirked faintly.

They could deny it all they wanted, but it was useless.

They were Incarnations—humans who had sold their souls for power.

He hadn’t eliminated them all for one reason: to awaken humanity’s awareness.

To show the world how many Incarnations still lurked among them, so they could prepare and defend themselves.

‘The rest is up to the Abyss Safety Bureau.’

Minister Park Sang-min and Lee Hyuk-soo would handle the cleanup.

Not just the eight Incarnations left here—

‘But the Incarnation Alliance as well. I don’t have time to deal with them.’

He already knew.

The reason so many Incarnations had gathered under Han Min-oh’s guards—

It was because of that organization.

‘Leeches.’

He clicked his tongue.

Parasitic scum embedded throughout society.

They had infiltrated every corner—from politics to business.

Their network was too vast, too fragmented.

For him to personally purge them one by one would waste precious time.

And besides, there was no clear “leader” of the Incarnation Alliance.

Their purpose was simple—

To sow chaos, steadily increase their numbers, and collapse national foundations.

To create a world ruled entirely by Incarnations, free from all restraint.

‘I’ll trust them to handle it.’

By now, the Abyss Safety Bureau should have been largely purified.

Park Chan-woo quietly exited the Abyss.

—

His ears itched.

‘Is someone talking about me?’

Minister Park Sang-min rubbed his ear and glanced across at Lee Hyuk-soo.

“The plan to corner them all into one department worked well.”

“They’ve started exposing each other. They’re trying to weed out who’s the traitor.”

Following the Prophet’s advice, they’d gathered all suspected Incarnations into one place—and as expected, chaos ensued.

They began turning on each other, claiming, “I’m not an Incarnation—he is!”

But both Park Sang-min and Lee Hyuk-soo already knew the truth.

All of them were Incarnations.

“…The scale of the Incarnation Alliance seems larger than we thought.”

Park Sang-min’s expression hardened.

By pretending to comfort them, they’d traced their roots.

And they finally saw just how deeply the Alliance had sunk into Korea.

“We’ve confirmed over five thousand already.”

“If five thousand are confirmed, the real number is probably over fifty thousand.”

Among fifty million citizens—fifty thousand Incarnations.

One in every thousand.

And their numbers were still rising.

They were everywhere—hidden, waiting.

Park Sang-min sighed.

“Just recently, the Han Yeon Group’s second son was attacked by over forty Incarnations.”

“I heard. All of them were his bodyguards.”

“Yes. They can forge identities easily. Haa… where do we even start…”

Their roots ran deep.

If they didn’t wipe them out all at once, they’d just scatter.

“Mr. Lee, do you have anyone trustworthy around you? We can’t handle this operation alone.”

“…No one.”

He hadn’t expected otherwise.

Lee Hyuk-soo was clearly not the sociable type.

“Hmm… but why did the Incarnations target Han Min-oh?”

“If that many attacked, the Creators must have been involved.”

“So the Creators wanted something from him?”

“Without a doubt. They never act without gain.”

At that, Park Sang-min stroked his chin.

Han Min-oh…

What did he have that drew so many Incarnations?

No—more importantly—

“…How did he survive?”

From the reports gathered from survivors, Han Min-oh shouldn’t have lived.

Yet he did.

Rustle.

Lee Hyuk-soo stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“To meet him.”

“To meet who?”

“…Han Min-oh. I’ll see for myself if he’s someone we can trust.”

There was something there.

Something valuable enough for Creators to covet.

Lee Hyuk-soo intended to find out.

And if Han Min-oh truly had that much potential—

‘We’re short on manpower.’

…then recruiting him into the Abyss Safety Bureau might not be a bad idea.

—

Late at night.

Park Chan-woo walked through the cold streets.

Whooosh—

“Wow!”
“A shooting star!”
“So pretty!”

From the heavens, countless shooting stars began to fall.

People around him cheered in wonder.

But then—

Boom!

BOOOOM!

“What the—!”
“It really fell!”
“Holy—!”

Their awe turned into panic.

While the crowd erupted in chaos, Park Chan-woo quietly walked toward the crash site.

When he arrived—

‘A black star.’

A dark, ominous star had landed at a construction site, radiating an eerie magical energy.

…This was an Abyss.

A foreign, Creator-made Abyss that had fallen onto Earth.

It shouldn’t exist here.

He stepped forward and reached out without hesitation.

Ding!

《Entering Creator Abyss: “Fox Den.”》

The Fox Den.

An Abyss humanity was not yet capable of clearing.

But one that had to be cleared.

‘The Fallen Saint, Yoo Jin-seo.’

He had to kill her.

‘Yoo Jin-seo isn’t human.’

Though she wore a human’s face, she was not human.

She was a fox.

To be precise—a Nine-tailed Fox.