The Monster in the Swamp

"Abilities?"

Han Su stopped tearing open the instant noodle packet and looked up at Cui Qiao. "I've been wondering..."

He paused, then looked at her and said, "I studied the occult before. I think I saw a similar theory somewhere. Some abilities on the Mysterious Side seem to come with unknown risks..."

"Do you pay a price when you use these abilities, too?"

"Of course there's a price."

Cui Qiao seemed unusually impressed by what Han Su said. She nodded lightly. "Before learning about Mysterious Power, you considered the price. I have to say, I admire how clear-headed you are."

"And as for the price, there is one."

She paused, then said quietly, "Using an ability means expending your Mental Power, putting strain on your brain and destroying your rationality. So people who overuse Mental Power often suffer from insomnia, feel dazed, and have poor memories."

"And people in occult circles also tend to suffer from severe hair loss after they turn forty..."

"..."

Han Su was stunned as he listened. "Huh? That's all?"

"Of course, there are more serious consequences..."

Secretary Cui Qiao smiled, then suddenly turned serious. "Using an ability brings you closer and closer to those mysterious entities, until you can no longer escape them!"

"Just like you. You merely came into contact with the strange, and you had to leave your ordinary life behind and join this department."

"Spiritual Penetration, on the other hand, directly breaks through the boundary..."

"You can think of it this way: the entire world is built atop a vast swamp. All of humanity walks across its surface, while countless monsters and shadows lurk in its depths, always looking to devour the people above."

"Even if they do nothing, some unlucky people will accidentally sink into the mud or get caught by the monsters below and dragged under."

"What those who practice Spiritual Penetration do is stick their feet into the mud again and again, recklessly, even deliberately approaching and provoking the monsters in it..."

"People with abilities in the real world are the same. Every time they use an ability, they get a little closer to those monsters. The stronger the ability they wield, the easier it is for the monsters in the depths of the swamp to see them..."

"Abilities themselves are a way for the monsters in the swamp to seep into reality."

"Can you understand it that way?"

"..."

Han Su nodded. This time, he really understood.

As she spoke, Cui Qiao suddenly smiled and said to Han Su, "But you don't need to be afraid."

"The Disaster Management Bureau has been around for several years. Some very capable and clever people have managed to reduce the risks of Spiritual Penetration training to a very low level. Besides, there are only a limited number of training spots. Who knows when you'll get one!"

"..."

At that, she raised her wrist to check her watch and turned toward the door. Han Su grew anxious. "Uncle Zhang..."

The secretary walked out without even looking back. "Don't go asking around about the whereabouts of important Disaster Management Bureau leaders."

"...What the hell!"

Watching her leave just like that without giving him a straight answer, Han Su could only sigh helplessly. He slowly heated some water for his noodles and silently mulled over what she'd told him.

"A world where everyone walks over a swamp?"

If the whole world really was built atop a swamp, as she'd said, and those who had achieved Spiritual Penetration were people who occasionally stuck their feet into it to provoke the monsters, then what did that make someone like him, who had been kidnapped by monsters since childhood and still couldn't escape?

Someone who'd already been submerged in the swamp, only to keep surfacing for air?

But if he followed that theory, what exactly were the monsters that had kidnapped him? Why did Mysterious Power remain in his body?

He'd certainly let his imagination run wild, wondering if those monsters were "gods" or something else. But how could gods be on that level?

Although he'd never truly escaped them, he'd tricked them, evaded them, and even hurt them...

...Those damn things were definitely not gods!

Putting aside that strange thought, Han Su looked at his left hand again. The conspicuous cross-shaped scar on its back was jagged and clear, with an ugly, eerie quality to it.

The only inconvenient thing about his time at the Disaster Management Bureau was getting used to this ability. He'd already gained a general understanding of it during the assessment, but whether it was the ability in his right eye or his left hand, he hadn't had the chance to get familiar with or develop it.

Of course, if he really wanted to develop it without restraint, he needed to ask about the price first.

Cui Qiao's warning had to be taken seriously:

Losing your hair really was terrifying!

But the rest of it—using an ability brought you closer to the swamp monsters, made you more likely to sink, and so on—what kind of price was that to him?

As he thought, Han Su put the instant noodles into a bowl.

He was used to eating instant noodles from a bowl, for two reasons.

First, the woman who'd looked after him before he turned ten had told him that when he was at home, he couldn't eat instant noodles out of a paper cup.

It was a matter of principle. It meant he had a home.

The other reason was that Han Su bought instant noodles in packets.

Xu Ji really was generous to rent him such a nice little apartment, but while the rent was cheap, the property and management fees weren't.

He'd already taken advantage of Xu Ji's generosity, and it wouldn't do to ask him to pay those bills, too. So Han Su paid them himself. All things considered, it wasn't much different from when he'd lived in cheap rentals while working odd jobs.

He'd spent a week at the Disaster Management Bureau, and the instant noodles he'd bought just before leaving were nearly expired.

The boiling water went into the bowl, steaming hot. Han Su's right hand could barely resist letting go, but he silently recited that spell in his mind. At once, his Mental Power began to "flow," gathering in his left hand.

He'd recited the spell several times by now and had grown used to the feeling of his Mental Power turning into flowing water, something he could grasp.

His usually sluggish hand suddenly turned cold. He couldn't feel the scalding water at all. Instead, it seemed to grow immensely strong. He was holding the bowl without even gripping it tightly, yet a crack inexplicably appeared in the large bowl.

Han Su hurriedly switched to another bowl and drew back the Mental Power concentrated in his left hand.

He thought to himself, If simply coming into contact with them can leave such powerful strength in my body, then could I...

Next time I'm in the Ancient Castle, I could find a chance to grab one of those monsters and touch it. Maybe that'd leave a similar power behind, and I could activate it once I got back to reality?

Grab a monster?

That sounds weird!

As he thought, he cracked an egg into the bowl to celebrate being back, added a sausage, and let himself indulge a little.

But now that he was back in familiar surroundings, why did he feel like something was missing?

Just then, there was a sudden knock at the door. Han Su went to answer it, chopsticks in hand. The moment he opened the door, he froze in shock.

Zhang Chiguo stood there with a broad smile. Behind him, Secretary Cui Qiao wore a dark expression and carried an armful of groceries.

"Xiao Han, you..."

He spoke cheerfully, then paused when he smelled the instant noodles. "You've already started eating?"

Han Su stared at him. "What are you doing?"

Zhang Chiguo glanced back at Secretary Cui in confusion. "I came over to cook you a meal and celebrate you joining the Disaster Management Bureau. I also wanted to have a chat. Didn't Xiao Cui tell you?"

Han Su said, "No."

Behind Zhang Chiguo, Secretary Cui said expressionlessly, "Your whereabouts must never be disclosed under any circumstances. Besides..."

"...How was I supposed to know that when you said to get ready, you meant you were going to the market?"

"...And you bought so much?"

"..."

He really had bought a lot. After helping Secretary Cui carry it inside, Zhang Chiguo cheerfully tied on an apron and went into the kitchen to cook.

The black-suited secretary, Cui Qiao, was assigned to squat on a little stool and wash potatoes.

Unlike the Zhang Chiguo Han Su knew at the Disaster Management Bureau, the man in the kitchen looked like a homebody.

But Cui Qiao also seemed different from the polished, capable, confident woman she'd been at the Bureau. She looked thoroughly aggrieved, scrubbing the potatoes so hard they squeaked.

Han Su figured he ought to be polite, so he sat beside her and helped out. But she no longer showed him the friendliness she'd had earlier. Instead, she shot him a cold look. "Go sit on the sofa. Chief Zhang said this is my assignment!"

She put particular emphasis on the word "assignment."

That's not a very professional attitude for someone doing an assignment...

Han Su thought it but didn't dare say it aloud. He could only give up on trying to rescue the potatoes.

The smell told him Zhang Chiguo was making fish with sizzling oil and beef with tofu, so he pushed the nearly expired instant noodles aside.

His nerves, taut for years, began to relax a little.

These were all dishes he'd loved as a child.

He didn't remember much from before he turned ten. Even in the few scattered memories he had, life hadn't exactly been good.

The single woman who'd looked after him had a bad temper. He was always covered in bruises, and he couldn't remember any particularly delicious food. Still, at least he hadn't starved to death.

After the Kidnapping Case, though, Zhang Chiguo had looked after him for a while under the pretense of protecting a witness. That rough old man often cooked him tasty food and occasionally tried to make him laugh.

Of course, Zhang Chiguo might have been trying to coax Han Su into remembering something, but that didn't matter anymore.

Back then, facing the serious Public Security Bureau, the frenzied media, and the grieving victims' families, he might have gone mad if Zhang Chiguo hadn't stood in front of him, tall and silent.

As he thought, he picked up a handful of long beans and began trimming them.