Chapter 367

It’s dark.

The cloying humidity and the smell of mold cling to the air.

There’s an oddly refreshing life force intertwined with the dampness stirring within.

[That foolish and ignorant person asks, where is that place?]

[It’s a place to descend.]

[It’s where the dead should rightly arrive.]

[Even the righteous]

[And the beloved]

[The brave all go there.]

With every breath I take, the touch of mold clings to my nasal mucosa, evoking discomfort, and the taste sends shivers from the tip of my tongue to the root. Even without a breeze, every hair feels like it’s trembling, and the air, heavy with humidity, carries a scent that feels slightly nauseating along with the mold.

It has the same smell as when weeds are cut, a scent of dying plants.

[That place has no light.]

[It’s a very deep pit, and once you go down, you can never come up.]

[Those with eyes can’t see anything in the darkness, and those without eyes can’t see either because they lack them. Those with a tongue cannot speak because theirs has stiffened, and those without a tongue cannot speak due to their lack. It is darker than the deepest point of a dark valley and more damp and soggy than the farthest reaches of the deepest cave.]

[That place has no fire or warmth. There is cold, but it’s not real cold; it’s the fear of not being seen by the One who exists in singularity, and we tremble in fear that we might not be visible in His eyes. The depth of the deep pit will be pain for us.]

Swinging a sickle through the thick growth of grass, leveling it with a weeding machine, and spraying herbicide.

When it was made to look nice, the smell of dying plants mixed and wafted around.

In that scent, the warrior opened his eyes.

“Wha-what…?”

But even with his eyes opened, nothing changed.

The basement was a space so dark, not even a single point of light could be found.

Even with his eyes open, he couldn’t see anything.

All he saw was a pitch-black field, as if someone had covered his eyes completely.

[In that place where the dead wander, there is a smell. It’s more dreadful than the stench of rotting corpses, and it gives headaches stronger than sulfur. No matter how much you smell it, there’s no sign of getting used to it, and it doesn’t fade easily. But if one holds onto their faith in their heart, that smell will gradually dull, and only the faith imprinted upon the bones will allow us to escape that odor.]

His vision among the five senses was paralyzed.

Because of the pitch-black darkness, he could feel nothing.

Moreover, it wasn’t just that.

What had been done to his body? He couldn’t feel his body’s sensations properly.

Even attempting to move his body felt as if he couldn’t properly sense it, raising questions about whether his body was really moving at all, whether it was tied up somewhere, or even if he was uninjured. Additionally, his mind felt vaguely hazy, making him suspect whether he had taken some drug.

“Ugh…”

The warrior twisted his lips to produce a sound to check his state.

A noise emerged.

The sound came out normally.

The sound he intended to make came out exactly as he wished.

Isn’t that strange?

If he were under the influence of a drug, it would be normal for his speech to be slurred and his pronunciation to be jumbled, but it wasn’t at all.

The sound was clear.

But he felt no sensation.

Isn’t that strange?

[But this is a place everyone will go. The devout Jacob will die and come here, and the righteous Job will also come to this place. David, beloved by God, will come here; even the good King Hezekiah will come here. The rebellious will come here, and Egyptians and Assyrians will come here, as well as the king of Babylon and his subordinates. Good or evil, all will come here, and everyone will arrive at this place. Jesus also briefly stayed here before going to His side, and saints also stayed here briefly before going to Him.]

As if to resolve the warrior’s doubt, someone whispered in his ear.

[This place is a tomb.]

Hee.

Hee hee hee.

When the warrior opened his eyes, all he saw was darkness.

Mold swarmed, creating a thick black cloth that blocked even a single ray of light, and it was as though that cloth veiled his sight completely. The foul smell of mold filled his head, giving off an aroma as if he were made entirely of mold.

My head hurts.

The smell of mold is so strong that my head throbs painfully.

I had thought I had lived a rough life as a warrior, and yet here I am, weakened by just the smell of mold…

Only the smell of mold seems to encompass my entire senses.

It felt as if someone was blocking my ears with their hands, for I could hear nothing, and even though I wanted to mumble something, I couldn’t tell if my mouth was frozen or truly not moving. I couldn’t even know if sounds were being produced, leaving me to only wish for nothing to be wrong.

Why am I here?

What is this disgusting smell of mold?

What is going to happen to me?

In the darkness, time stretched and shrank like a rubber band, flowing erratically, and it changed once again with the speed of thought. When thoughts raced, time moved slowly, and when I didn’t think, time zipped by. It was like a sealed room; I couldn’t even properly grasp the flow of time, and with no sensations, I couldn’t raise my power or introspect to explore the passage of time.

He was trapped.

In a prison called darkness, he was ensnared.

The absence of his senses became ropes wrapped tightly around his body, becoming iron bars.

His body, which he thought would hold up against any adversity or hardship, easily fell out of his control with the loss of the senses, leaving his faith unguarded, leaving only his thoughts imprisoned within his flesh, resulting in a small part of his prison.

Is this what it is like to be frozen alive?

How horrifying is it to have only thoughts alive in a situation where one cannot perceive anything!

I wish someone would take me out of this prison!

I wish someone would pull me out of this hell!

The warrior prayed fervently, wishing desperately.

To escape this anguish he had never experienced before.

Even torture that would make blood spill and scream in pain would be preferable to this numbing agony!

*

In the basement of the building, there was a prison.

There was a home for evil spirits and demons.

They stayed there at the will of the master and could only take occasional strolls when he loosened their collars. It was a cozy environment, saturated with rotting smells and rich in yin energy, with not a trace of yang energy to be found.

There were plants there.

These plants drained the blood of animals and secreted narcotic substances to ensnare the beasts.

There were things that had not become evil spirits.

Weak in strength but filled with hatred for humans, they desired to haunt them.

And they followed the command of one person.

“The materials come in on their own, how delightful it is.”

There was an altar there.

An underground master revered by the demons, evil spirits, and ghosts, who could control the plants, resided there.

And there was Park Jinseong.