Although nothing in the world remains unchanged, not all changes were naturally acceptable either.
Sometimes, only through gradual transformation could one come to terms with certain changes.
Kang Han was often like that.
Watching the protagonist, who overnight transformed from a total outcast to an alpha male in appearance, left a strange, empty feeling.
No, to be precise, it wasn’t because of Kang Han himself but because of the peculiar individuals who began to flock around him.
“Hey, do you use Instagram?”
“This is my number…”
“Do you like snacks? Here, have some to keep your energy up!”
Could it be that they didn’t recognize him as the rumored Berserker just because he had gotten a haircut?
A significant number of female students brushed past Kang Han, leaving their traces behind.
The sweet scent of perfume lingering on the protagonist didn’t seem to dissipate.
Well, considering Jin Mugyeol was another kind of apex predator roaming the academy, it would’ve been stranger for Kang Han not to attract attention.
Even Kang Han, who had never experienced such kindness from girls before, was flustered and didn’t know what to do.
Sweating profusely, he turned to me for help.
“Uh, what do I do with all this stuff? I’ve received too much.”
“What, do you want me to carry it for you?”
“No, that’s not what I mean…”
“Just enjoy it. Isn’t it nice to be so popular?”
The second wave was approaching.
From a distance, a group of female students, who had been glancing at Kang Han while chatting happily, were now energetically making their way toward him to establish connections.
Alright, it was time for the extra to gracefully step aside.
“Well, good luck.”
“Wait—”
Kang Han’s words were cut off by the arrival of the female students.
We met again later during the special Berserker training class.
By then, Kang Han looked utterly exhausted, his expression haggard.
“Hey…”
“Mm.”
Even amidst the chaos, Kang Han seemed to have kept the ring safe, and I smiled faintly.
“So, how does it feel to become a superstar overnight?”
“I just want to go home.”
“What’s the point of spending all that money to make you stand out if you can’t even enjoy the luck you’ve been given?”
“I don’t need this kind of luck.”
As Kang Han grumbled, he pulled something out of his pocket—a blood-stained handkerchief of mine.
Watching him bring it up to his nose, I couldn’t resist raising two fingers.
My index and middle fingers struck directly into Kang Han’s nostrils along with the handkerchief.
“Ugh.”
Kang Han glared at me, silently protesting, but I simply responded with a light stare-down.
What did he expect, sniffing that in front of me?
At that moment, the monk entered the room.
“Oh, you’re already here.”
Kang Han’s encounters with the monk had continued ever since the academy began joint training among its elite students.
It had been proven that meditation was more effective than any other training method in controlling the Berserker’s madness, and even I found myself intrigued enough to observe the class.
“Cadet Kang Han, I heard you’ve made recent progress.”
“Yes, monk.”
Kang Han concisely recounted his recent experience in the dungeon, omitting unnecessary details.
“You felt like you reached a deeper stage of rampage?”
“Yes. While fighting for an extended period and at an intense pace, there was a moment when I felt like I couldn’t come back. Before, I’d only brushed against that line, but next time, I might cross it.”
The monk nodded lightly after hearing Kang Han’s explanation.
“Then, let’s continue from where we left off.”
Lately, Kang Han’s task had been to maintain rationality even amidst his rampage.
It seemed that he could now exchange a few words even while in a berserk state, thanks to the underlying training that made it possible.
As Kang Han sat cross-legged, a fierce energy surged from him, and soon, veins bulged vividly on his forehead.
Despite groaning between pain and ecstasy, the boy kept his composure and listened intently to the monk.
Sometimes, he even demonstrated superhuman abilities, engaging in brief exchanges.
“Anger. It is an instinct inherent to humans, manifesting naturally. The important thing is to recognize that you are angry after the fact. That is the first clue to maintaining your composure. As you continue to recognize it, there will come a moment when you sense the anger rising before it takes hold, and you can calm it.”
In that quiet struggle, I silently watched, careful not to disturb the training.
I, too, needed to prepare myself in the remaining two months.
There wasn’t much time left before the accursed mark of the dark god worshippers was etched into my body.
It was my turn to take care of my own affairs.
I met with Ira Sol in a region farther from the usual areas this time, thanks to the recent decline in heretical activities in Seoul.
“These guys have been acting strange lately,” sighed Ira Sol, standing over the corpses of the heretics.
“Doesn’t it feel like they’re holding back? Like they’re conserving their strength for something big? It’s unsettling that we only ever catch the small fries.”
Thunk.
Roll.
The head of an octopus demon nudged by Ira Sol’s foot rolled lifelessly across the ground.
Other than the intel suggesting a massive terrorist attack targeting Kang Han during the upcoming inter-academy exchange event, there hadn’t been much progress recently.
Perhaps it was because the two of us had taken down so many heretics that we had driven them into hiding.
It was only natural that the ants would scurry deeper into their holes after having their nests disturbed repeatedly.
“Another wasted effort today,” I muttered.
We hadn’t found it—the artifact for mental stabilization.
Normally, such a thing would only be carried by someone in a high-ranking position among the dark god worshipers.
Searching the offices of low-level grunts like this was unlikely to yield results.
As I let out a silent sigh, Ira Sol asked, “By the way, Idam.”
“Yeah?”
“The mental stabilization artifact… You’re looking for it because of Kang Han, right?”
“At first, yes. But not anymore.”
“Then who for?”
“For me.”
“What?”
“You remember asking if I wore the same ring as Kang Han, right?” I said, slipping off the fingerless glove I always wore.
On my index finger was the ring, Promised Destruction.
“Yeah, we’re wearing the same ring. But don’t misunderstand—it’s not that kind of ring. This is an artifact. It lets me absorb curses placed on others.”
Ira Sol, my closest confidant and ally, knew more of my secrets than anyone.
If I was searching for something critical, I owed her an explanation.
“We can’t predict exactly when or where the attack will happen. The heretics always have the initiative, and we’re left to react. It’s almost guaranteed that malicious energy will be injected into Kang Han at some point. That much we can’t prevent. But the worst-case scenario, where Kang Han becomes completely controlled by them? That’s something I can stop.”
I ran my fingers over the ring as I spoke.
“At least I can take that bullet for him.”
“But that means you’ll end up suffering horribly, doesn’t it?” Ira Sol protested.
“That’s why I’m looking for a solution, right? Sure, today was a bust, but I’ll find one.”
“Still…”
Ira Sol stepped closer, visibly sweating.
What’s with her?
It wasn’t like this was the end of the world—there were still two months left.
I wasn’t even entertaining the thought that I wouldn’t find the artifact in time.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Well, it’s just…” Ira Sol clutched at my collar, her hands trembling.
“I just can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t the right way. It’s too dangerous.”
“All I need to do is find the artifact before then. Why are you so out of sorts today?”
“I thought you’d come up with a plan to stop the attack entirely, preventing Kang Han from ever being targeted! We’re capable of that, aren’t we?”
“No, it’s impossible.”
I refuted her words point by point.
“If there’s a large-scale terrorist attack, the higher-ups of the heretics will definitely be involved. With their stealth abilities granted by the dark god’s blessing, you have to assume they’ll succeed in infiltrating. Our strategy has to start from that premise.”
I was never one to rely on luck.
And in a reality where one wrong move could mean a sudden, grisly end, I had to be even more cautious—both in planning and execution.
“So… does that mean the malice will really be transferred to you?” Ira Sol asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Kang Han might lose control, but yeah, the curse will flow into me.”
“And then what happens to you?”
“Well… if I can’t find any other solutions by then…”
In the worst-case scenario, I could lose my mind and defect to the heretics entirely.
If things went well, and I managed to secure the mental stabilization artifact, I might still be able to live a somewhat normal life at the academy.
“The odds are fifty-fifty. Success or failure. Simple, right?”
“It’s not that simple…”
Ira Sol, her head hanging low, finally confessed the reason for her strange behavior earlier.
“Actually, I have an older sister. Ira Yoon. That’s her name.”
I listened quietly as she continued.
“She used to play with me all the time, even before I started school. She was the most precious person to me… but…”
In this world, you sometimes hear stories about people who succumb to madness and transform into demons.
Humans who couldn’t resist the temptations of the dark god.
Villains.
It seemed Ira Sol’s sister, Ira Yoon, was one of them.
“Later, I found out that our family must have forced something onto her. My sister, under immense stress, disappeared one day. And the rumors that followed said she was already…”
Ira Sol murmured with a pained expression.
“It wasn’t until much later that I realized how much my sister suffered because of some injustice. If only I had been older back then… no, even then…”
My gaze fell on the octopus-like head rolling on the ground.
Ira Sol’s sister had likely turned into a similar monstrous form.
I asked briefly, “So, is she dead or alive?”
“She’s still alive,” Ira Sol replied firmly, lifting her head. Her eyes weren’t filled with madness, but with certainty.
“She still contacts me periodically. I think she wants me to follow her down the same path.”
“Seriously?”
“Of course, I’ve never met her in person. I planned to find her on my own and confront her about everything that’s happened, rather than responding to her invitations.”
Ira Sol had made a wise decision.
Accepting the invitation of a dark god worshiper was essentially consenting to their madness—a one-way ticket to the altar prepared for transformation.
If Ira Sol had ever responded to her sister’s invitations, she would likely have ended up as a grotesque monster like the one on the ground.
Clutching my hand tightly, Ira Sol said, “Idam, I won’t let you end up like my sister.”
“Uh… thanks?”
I had no intention of becoming a monster, which was why I’d been running around so desperately to find the artifact.
Then Ira Sol dropped a bombshell.
“My sister… I think she’s become a high-ranking official among the dark god worshipers. In the latest photo she sent me, her face had returned to normal.”
Her words froze me.
A worshiper of the dark god who had once transformed into a grotesque monster regaining their original appearance?
That could only mean one thing—they had fully embraced the dark god’s power and ascended to a high-ranking position within the cult.
“High-ranking officials are likely to possess mental stabilization artifacts, right? That’s what you said, isn’t it?”
With a determined expression, Ira Sol declared, “Idam, I’ll arrange for you to meet my sister.”
“Are you planning to kill her?”
“If necessary. But I’ll have a few words with her first.”
Unexpectedly, a path to obtaining the mental stabilization artifact had appeared.
The cost, however, was heavy—her sister’s death.