The Devouring Genius of a Destroyed World

Seongho chose to walk around instead of heading straight back. He wasn’t in an emotionally stable state and needed time to collect himself.

Breathing in the cold air and clearing his head, he noticed something unusual.

Plop, plop.

A small droplet of water, almost the size of a bead, moved cautiously along the shadows of the pavement.

Despite its small size, Seongho immediately recognized it as Jo Gyuheon’s water sphere.

Sitting on a nearby bench, Seongho leaned forward and extended his hand. The water sphere climbed onto his palm, and Jo Gyuheon’s voice echoed through it.

“Hyung!”

Currently, Jo Gyuheon and Seo Minhee were staying outside the camp. Seongho had decided it was wise to keep an unexposed reserve force, considering the unpredictability of the situation.

They had agreed to communicate only at midnight, so this early contact caught Seongho off guard.

“What’s going on? Did you find something already?”

Seongho had tasked them with scouting for a spot where the camp's defenses were relatively weak.

“Actually... I debated whether to contact you, but we found something strange near the campus while scouting.”

“Strange? How so?”

“It’s wriggling... but feels oddly rigid to the touch. It’s about two meters in size.”

Seongho froze mid-motion. After a brief pause, he asked urgently, “Does it have prominent vein-like patterns on it?”

“Wait... how did you know? Yeah, that’s exactly it!”

Damn it.

Seongho rubbed his temples before continuing.

“Where exactly is it?”

“Uh... near the villa neighborhood, at the site of a daycare center.”

“If you’re still nearby, leave the area immediately.”

“Why? What is it?”

Seongho sighed deeply. “It’s an evolved species.”

“What?!”

“The monster that hatched from that egg and attacked you... it’s maturing.”

There was a brief silence on the other end, followed by a panicked voice.

“Shouldn’t we destroy it immediately? That thing is incredibly dangerous!”

Gyuheon’s voice rose in alarm, and Seongho could almost picture him fidgeting nervously.

“It’s impossible,” Seongho replied, shaking his head with a troubled expression.

“What do you mean?”

“When a zombie is in its evolution state, the protective shell—or the tae—is indestructible.”

No matter the weapon or the force, the shell protecting an evolving species was impervious. Even the protagonist and his party had repeatedly failed to break it. The creature could only be hunted after it fully matured.

Gyuheon audibly swallowed his nervousness.

“Stay away from it and keep it under periodic surveillance,” Seongho instructed.

Thanks to Gyuheon’s water ability, his communication range extended to 2–3 kilometers. Reducing the size of the water sphere had more than doubled that range, making it feasible to monitor the evolving species.

“And if it breaks out of its shell, contact me immediately.”

“Understood! I’ll let you know right away.”

After receiving Gyuheon’s firm confirmation, Seongho rubbed his tired eyes.

If an evolved species was nearby, his plans might need significant adjustments.

“How’s the other task I assigned?” Seongho asked.

“We’re still looking. Minhee noona doesn’t know the entire layout, but we’ll let you know once we find something suitable.”

“Good. Keep me updated.”

“Will do!”

As Seongho finished the conversation and stood to leave, a voice called out.

“Hey, new oppa!”

It was Yeom Miju, dragging the leg of a man she had presumably been using as a target earlier.

For a moment, Seongho thought the man was dead, but then—

“Ugh... help, please...”

The man was still alive, though barely.

Seongho’s eyes followed the trail of blood dripping with every step Miju took, the length of the crimson streak revealing just how severe the man’s injuries were.

“Save... me... please...”

The man’s weak pleas were drowned out by Miju’s loud, erratic voice.

“You know I’m the one who brought you here, right? That means you should play with me!”

The longer her nonsensical rambling continued, the colder Seongho’s gaze grew.

“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you saying anything? Cat got your tongue?!”

Unbeknownst to himself, Seongho’s fingers curled into fists, his knuckles whitening. As impulses clashed with restraint, his fingers twitched momentarily.

“Save... me... save me...”

“Don’t you hear me talking to you?!”

Suddenly, Miju lunged at Seongho in a fit of rage.

Already on high alert, Seongho drew his sword instantly.

Miju screamed incomprehensibly, flailing her sticky webs around in a frenzy.

Seongho slashed through the webs with his sword, tearing them apart with brute force. But as he cleared the obstruction, he sensed imminent danger.

Miju’s arms swung wildly, pulling together all the surrounding debris and webs to form a thick barrier between them.

Seongho’s dagger thrust into the mass but couldn’t penetrate it, halting just shy of Miju’s temple.

“I did it! I stopped it!” Miju screamed, her eyes wild with madness.

While she laughed maniacally, Seongho calmly accessed a menu visible only to him.

‘Yes.’

With a simple confirmation, the length of his dagger extended, piercing through the barrier and skewering Miju’s head.

Her laughter abruptly ceased as her head tilted unnaturally to the side. A single drop of blood clung to the tip of the blade before vanishing.

Even as he withdrew the blade, there was no further bloodshed.

Standing over the eerily clean scene, Seongho turned to survey his surroundings.

The injured man was gone, likely having escaped during the chaos.

Confirming that no one was watching, Seongho let out the breath he had been holding.

“Hah... hah!”

He hadn’t moved intensely, yet his breathing was ragged, as though he’d sprinted for miles.

The sensation of taking a life lingered on his fingertips, more jarring than he’d expected.

Though he had orchestrated many deaths before, this was the first time he’d killed someone so directly. The vibrations from piercing flesh and bone seemed to resonate through his entire being.

Seongho steadied himself, exhaling deeply several times to quell the storm within.

I could’ve ended this without killing her.

But when Miju charged at him, a brilliant idea had struck.

Without hesitation, he killed her.

Her corpse would serve as excellent bait for his next plan.

“Victory count: 5 to 12...”

Repeating the numbers that had been on his mind for days, Seongho hoisted Miju’s lifeless body over his shoulder.

“You’re still there?”

“Y-yes...”

Startled by the sudden events, Gyuheon’s trembling voice came from the water sphere.

Seongho’s gaze locked with Gyuheon’s pale face visible through the watery projection.

“Give me precise directions to where the evolved species is.”

***

Returning to the Café

As Oh Jonghyuk returned to the party, he was met with unexpected news.

“Im Chan left already?”

“Yeah, his kid’s still young, and he’s not a fan of drinking,” Kang Yoo replied.

Oh Jonghyuk let out a dry laugh.

“A welcome party without the guests of honor. That’s a first.”

“What about Seongho? Did he leave too?”

“He couldn’t stop watching Yeom Miju’s antics. I told him to handle it himself and left.”

“Does he seem like he’s sympathizing with the slaves?”

“Hard to say…”

It was true that Seongho showed traces of pity toward the slaves.

“But he’s a pragmatic guy. I don’t think he’ll stir up trouble just because of a little sentimentality.”

“Hmm.”

“Besides, any lingering sympathy probably comes from the fact that he hasn’t been burned by the slaves yet.”

As Oh Jonghyuk sipped his drink, Kang Yoo hesitated before cautiously speaking up.

“Professor, if you’re okay with it, maybe I could bring up your wife? He seemed curious.”

“…If it’s necessary, go ahead. But if it doesn’t make any difference, use it to prod him a little.”

The plan was simple: manipulate Seongho’s perspective by using the slaves against him. For instance, ordering slaves with families to make unreasonable demands and then threatening them with their children as hostages.

It would crush any lingering sympathy Seongho might have and show him just how repugnant the non-Awakened could be.

At Oh Jonghyuk’s nod, Kang Yoo affirmed he would handle it.

The party continued uneventfully. Drinks were poured, and conversation flowed.

Some time later, an Awakened seated near the window pointed outside.

“The new guy’s coming back.”

Everyone turned to see Seongho approaching, carrying a limp figure over his shoulder.

“What’s he got there?”

As Seongho entered the café, the sound of the door’s bell accompanying his arrival, he unceremoniously dumped the body onto the floor.

The woman’s face was immediately recognizable.

“Yeom Miju…?”

Indeed, it was her—except her head now sported a gaping hole on one side.

The café fell silent.

The only sound was Jang Hyungsoo, who shot to his feet and rushed over to her.

“Miju? Miju!”

Slap, slap!

The sharp sound of his hand striking her cheeks echoed through the room as he shook her lifeless body.

But Yeom Miju didn’t so much as twitch. Her wide, unblinking eyes stared into nothingness.

Jang Hyungsoo, clearly shaken, checked her breathing and listened for a heartbeat before finally muttering, “She’s… dead.”

A wave of murmurs swept through the café.

“Silence!” Oh Jonghyuk commanded, raising a hand.

The murmurs ceased immediately as all eyes turned to him. His expression hardened as he turned to Seongho.

“What the hell happened here?”

Killing a non-Awakened wasn’t an issue. At most, it reduced labor for the camp, and the perpetrator’s performance score would be penalized accordingly.

However, conflict between Awakened was another matter entirely. Any fatal dispute represented a significant loss for humanity and was treated with utmost severity.

Oh Jonghyuk’s face was like stone as he awaited an explanation.

Seongho, meanwhile, was as calm as could be.

“It was self-defense. She came at me first,” he said without a hint of hesitation or guilt.

Such confidence was unnerving. If he didn’t grasp the gravity of the situation, he was a fool. If he was certain he’d done nothing wrong, his boldness was remarkable.

Oh Jonghyuk frowned, scrutinizing Seongho’s nonchalant demeanor.

“You’d better have a proper explanation for this…”

Seongho raised his left hand, displaying the military dagger he carried.

“She tried to take this from me.”

The explanation was absurd.

The weapon in question was a standard military dagger—common and unremarkable. The camp’s armory was stocked with plenty of similar blades.

Why would Yeom Miju risk everything to steal such a basic weapon?

Everyone in the room felt certain that Seongho’s excuse wouldn’t hold up.

Then Seongho added, “I was fiddling with it earlier, trying to get used to handling it, and she lunged at me.”

Before anyone could process the ridiculousness of his statement, the dagger’s blade suddenly extended.

“What the—?”

“Is that… even possible?”

Gasps filled the room as the dagger’s blade elongated unnaturally, shimmering in the dim light.

The air grew heavier as Seongho stood calmly, his weapon defying every expectation.