Chapter 197: Chapter 197: Shards of the Abyss
The chains coiled tighter around Dr. Hwan Ji-tae’s throat, creaking as their metal scales scraped against one another like a serpent drawing breath. His boots dangled inches off the safehouse floor, knocking weakly against the wall behind him. His face had gone pale, but his eyes—those faintly glowing crimson eyes—remained defiant.
Lin’s expression was unreadable. His jaw was locked, eyes burning red with fury and exhaustion. His voice came low, almost mechanical.
"Tell me why I still hear Jin’s voice."
The demand hung in the air like a guillotine.
Keller raised his pistol immediately, not at Hwan, but at Lin. His hand didn’t waver. "Lin. Stop. You’re choking answers out of him—literally—but that doesn’t mean he’s not telling us what we need. Don’t kill him before we even know what he knows."
Min-joon, meanwhile, was frozen by the wall, hands balled into fists, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes flickered between Lin and Hwan like a child caught between feuding parents. "Hyung... please," he whispered. "If he knows something about Jin... we need to hear it."
The name was a knife. Lin’s chains twitched, tightening, then slackening in a rhythm that mirrored the war inside him. He wanted to snap this man in half, to grind every bone into dust. But beneath the bloodlust, the whispers of the abyss teased his ear. Jin’s voice, faint but familiar.
It wasn’t just in his head. It couldn’t be.
Hwan coughed, the crimson glow in his eyes pulsing as if feeding on the pressure. "You want the truth?" he rasped, forcing the words out past the constriction. "Then listen closely. Jin never died. Not the way you think."
Lin’s eyes narrowed. The chains froze in midair, holding Hwan suspended. "Liar."
But Hwan smiled—a thin, broken thing that looked more like a grimace. "I watched the abyss consume him. I watched his mind shatter. But the abyss does not erase. It does not kill cleanly. It breaks... and recycles. Jin’s consciousness was swallowed whole. What you hear in your head... is what’s left of him."
The words hit like shrapnel.
Lin’s vision blurred. For a second, the safehouse flickered in and out of focus, replaced by a corridor from his childhood—the sterile labs, Jin’s shadow just ahead of him, calling his name. Then it snapped back. Sweat trickled down his temple.
Keller shook his head violently. "No. No, this is bullshit. He’s playing you. Jin’s dead, Lin. We all know it."
Hwan turned his glowing eyes toward Keller, lips curling upward. "And yet your precious soldier here hears him. Do you think hallucinations fit neatly into memories only the abyss could have consumed? Think, soldier."
Keller’s hand tensed around the pistol. For a moment, Lin thought Keller might actually pull the trigger—not on Hwan, but on Lin, to break the moment.
Min-joon suddenly burst forward, his voice trembling with desperate hope. "If Jin is alive... even a piece of him... we can bring him back, right? Isn’t that what you’re saying?"
Hwan gave him a long, appraising look. "Alive is a strong word, boy. But yes. The fragments remain. And fragments can be restored... or destroyed. The choice is his." His gaze slid back to Lin, and the glow in his eyes pulsed brighter. "Your choice."
The chains convulsed violently. Lin yanked Hwan forward until their faces were inches apart. His voice was jagged, nearly breaking. "If you’re lying, I’ll tear every last piece of you apart."
Hwan didn’t flinch. "If I were lying, Lin, you wouldn’t still hear him."
The silence that followed was suffocating. The only sounds were the rasp of Hwan’s labored breath and the faint creak of chains.
Finally, Keller snapped. "Enough of this crap. Lin, we don’t have time for his mind games. Whether Jin’s voice is real or not, it doesn’t change the fact that this bastard worked for the abyss project. He’s not a friend. He’s not an ally. He’s a parasite who should have died with the rest of them."
"Then shoot me," Hwan said flatly, almost welcoming the idea. "But when the convoys outside tear down this building, when the abyss’s spawn crawl out of the cracks you’ve left behind, don’t pretend you didn’t need me. I know the nexuses beneath this city. I know where the abyss bleeds into your world. And I know how to get you out alive."
Lin’s brow furrowed. "Convoys?"
As if on cue, sirens wailed in the distance. Min-joon flinched, Keller swore under his breath, and all three of them turned toward the shuttered window. Keller pulled it open a crack and peered outside.
His face went pale.
"Shit."
"What?" Min-joon whispered.
Keller’s voice was clipped, all soldier now. "Military convoys. Multiple. Armored transports. Way too fast, way too precise. They know we’re here."
Lin’s chest tightened. He hadn’t sensed them. Too focused on Hwan. The abyss’s whispers had distracted him again.
Hwan coughed, blood flecking his lips as the chains dug deeper. "You see? Someone leaked your position. Do you think it was me? Please. If I wanted you dead, the abyss would’ve taken you already. But if you want to survive, you’ll take the only path left."
Lin’s grip on the abyss chains trembled. His instincts screamed to kill this man, erase the crimson light in his eyes before it spread like a disease. But Keller’s report confirmed it—they had no time.
"Where," Lin growled.
Hwan’s lips curled into a faint, satisfied smile. "Undercity. There’s a tunnel below this block—old utility lines forgotten by the city planners. The abyss carved through them years ago, and I’ve kept them hidden. They’ll take you past the convoys, into the shadows where your enemies won’t dare follow."
Keller spun around. "You’re seriously considering this?"
Lin didn’t answer. His eyes were locked on Hwan, searching for even the faintest crack in his composure. The crimson light flickered, but Hwan didn’t look away. He was too calm, too sure of himself.
"Hyung," Min-joon whispered, his voice quivering. "Please. If there’s a chance Jin is still out there... we can’t ignore it."
The room went still again. The chains creaked once more as they constricted around Hwan’s throat. He gasped, his smile faltering for the first time.
Lin leaned in close, his voice so low it was almost a growl. "One lie, and I finish what the fire should have."
The chains loosened suddenly, dropping Hwan to the floor like discarded prey. He collapsed onto his knees, coughing violently, his throat marred by deep crimson welts. But even through the pain, he smiled again.
"Good," he rasped. "Now we might actually survive."
Lin turned away, his body trembling with suppressed rage. The whispers of Jin’s voice still lingered in his head, faint and hollow, like an echo bouncing through empty halls.
For the first time, he wasn’t sure if he wanted them silenced—or answered.