Chapter 62

The cat, having escaped the burning building, ran westward through the ruins without pause.

Even as the ruins gave way to a maze-like cityscape, it didn’t hesitate for a moment.

It sped through the bustling streets of the city, not sparing a glance at the complex and eye-catching surroundings.

The distinct chatter of city conversations, children’s laughter, and the occasional distant bark of a dog filled the air.

As if it knew the way perfectly, the feline didn’t falter at any of the city’s intricate crossroads.

These were streets unfamiliar to me but seemed second nature to the cat.

Hours passed as I followed the feline.

Finally, atop a high ruin with an expansive view, the cat let out a loud cry.

“MEOWWW!”

A cry filled with accomplishment.

Looking down, I recognized the scenery—it was the same panoramic view they always showed on TV when introducing the “Incheon Gyeyang Mountain Temporary Camp.”

It was a striking scene, capturing the camp’s chaotic yet picturesque charm, often featured on television.

But seeing the camp in person was different from what I’d imagined.

Contrary to its frequent portrayal as a lawless temporary camp…

It looked surprisingly intact—not nearly as dangerous or temporary as described.

But something else was off.

There isn’t a single person in this city?

Not a single soul.

Sneaking into the city behind the cat, the strangeness only grew.

Children jumping around on precarious staircases.

Laundry flapping in the wind across narrow alleys.

Young men playing instruments gathered in alleyways.

Couples sitting hand-in-hand atop walls.

Shopkeepers trying to attract passersby.

It was a city brimming with positive emotions and vibrant life.

But the firewood remained motionless.

An unsettling feeling grew stronger with each passing moment.

The cat, seemingly oblivious to the oddities, leisurely wandered around the camp searching for something—perhaps adventure.

Little did it know, it had already stepped deep into one.

Those fake humans were pretending not to care while secretly keeping an eye on the ghost cat.

***

Midday sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting shadows across the floor. In the corner, the coffee machine hissed softly, releasing aromatic steam into the room.

The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with old wooden furniture and books created the unique atmosphere of our detective office.

Though typical of our workplace, today felt slightly different due to preparations for an outing.

I double-checked photos pinned on the corkboard while inspecting various tools.

I straightened my yellow suit, pocketed my pocket watch, and picked up the gas lamp sitting on the shelf.

As I lifted the gas lamp, a small shriek broke the silence.

“Senior! Are you really taking Watson?”

Junior No. 1 exclaimed in shock.

Junior No. 2 looked curious, clearly unfamiliar with Watson.

“Yeah, we should take it. We might regret it if we don’t.”

I held Watson at eye level and spoke quietly.

And finally, I grabbed a revolver.

“Revolver!? Senior, are you insane? Where are we going to fight? We’re meeting a client, right? Isn’t that illegal? Carrying guns in Korea…?”

“Feels like we’ll need it. Haven’t you seen the movies? A good detective always keeps a revolver handy.”

Junior No. 1, who’d never seen me act this way before, nervously checked their own gear.

Then Junior No. 2 asked,

“So, where are we going?”

“Incheon Gyeyang Mountain Temporary Camp.”

I pointed to an article pinned on the corkboard.

[Incheon Gyeyang Mountain Temporary Camp: Police Withdrawal Due to Suspicious Reasons]

It was a controversial story that had been making headlines recently.

***

A man pinched his nose as he descended the staircase, muttering under his breath.

“Ugh. Can’t breathe.”

The smell of blood, thick and sticky, permeated the air, making it almost impossible to breathe as he made his way down the steps.

Sent by the Association to recover from recent failures, this man had traveled all the way to the “Incheon Gyeyang Mountain Temporary Camp.”

Attempts to secretly revive the Central Research Institute had failed.

Attempting again after forcibly extracting the Deputy Director from prison also ended in failure.

When the Deputy Director was tasked with running the institute, they ended up as a headless corpse.

Despite these setbacks, locating the Director was considered a stroke of luck.

While tracking mysterious disappearances at the government-monitored “Incheon Gyeyang Mountain Temporary Camp,” the elusive Director was discovered.

Good fortune indeed.

The man’s mission was simple: “Recruit the Director back to the secret research facility!”

Following the lead researcher down into the depths, the stench of blood grew even stronger.

Added to this was an eerie heartbeat sound.

Thump thump.

Numerous hearts beating in unison.

Their rhythm resonated so powerfully it seemed to push the air itself, vibrating through the man’s chest.

At last, they arrived at a vast cavern.

There stood the Director.

“Glad you could make it, Mr. Anonymous from the Association.”

With exaggerated gestures and tone, the Director spoke.

Eager to leave the underground facility, the man ignored the sarcasm and stuck to business.

“Director, return to the Central Research Institute…”

SLAP.

The Director interrupted with a clap.

“Someone from the Association should know my name, right?”

“I don’t. Too young to know, wouldn’t you say? All documents bearing your name have been destroyed, making investigations impossible.”

“…”

“The lack of a name means no one can call you anymore. It can’t be recorded either.”

Hearing this, the Director paused thoughtfully.

“Director, or rather ‘Maker’! Return to the Central Research Institute. Now they can support all the experiments you’ve ever wanted.”

“Name. It’s trivial. Returning to the Central Research Institute? Hmm, interesting. Not really though. Why?”

The man began to feel uneasy as the Director stared upward, rambling nonsensically.

Something ominous loomed as the man turned to leave, only to find two researchers blocking his path.

“What are you doing?”

The Director approached, sharp scalpel in hand.

“Name.”

“Huh?”

“What is my name? Testing shows people can still call it. Even ordinary citizens confirm this.”

“Absolutely NOT! AAAHHHH!!!”

Before the man could finish his refusal, the scalpel pierced his eye.

With a sickening squelch, the scalpel was pulled out.

The object in the Director’s hand emitted an eerie glow.

Despite severe bleeding, it stopped almost instantly.

“What are you so afraid of? Do you think calling my name will summon ‘Noname’?”

“Of course!”

“Why not try? Perhaps I’m a parasitic Object inhabiting the Director’s body. Naming a host of a parasite like the ‘Black Butterfly’ shouldn’t hurt, right?”

“No, you’re not some parasitic Object!”

“You’re unreasonable. Maybe someday you’ll tell me. Time is on my side.”

“AHHHH, stop! I don’t know! I don’t know, I said!”

But the Director wouldn’t listen.

***

“Hello. Is there anything you’d like to request?”

All day, Senior had been loitering in front of the police station, starting his usual strange lines again.

“Did he say that to you too? That’s his catchphrase, huh?”

“Yeah, he probably thinks it sounds cool.”

Mutter, mutter.

Just then, a potential client grabbed Senior’s hand and stood up.

Another successful acquisition using that weird line.

“Alright, let’s head to ‘Incheon Gyeyang Mountain Temporary Camp’ now.”

Given the urgency of a kidnapping case, there was no reason to delay.

Arriving at the ‘Incheon Gyeyang Mountain Temporary Camp’ via taxi revealed a lively and cheerful place.

The kids were bright and energetic, merchants full of vitality.

Even elderly folks gathered halfway up the mountain playing board games, creating an atmosphere far removed from a kidnapping scenario.

The sheer number of people made staying inconspicuous seem impossible.

“Senior? Could a kidnapping happen here?”

Senior furrowed his brow, scanning the surroundings with a serious expression.

“Senior?”

“I don’t know… Something feels off, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

Feeling an overwhelming sense of fear, we followed the client to their residence.

A shabby three-story concrete building without a parking lot.

There, a child and a woman greeted us.

“SISTER!”

The child ran over, arms wide open, clinging to the client’s legs.

But the client turned pale, her body stiff as a board.

That’s the look someone gets when a leech attaches to their leg.