The second they stepped into the slums, the guide — Mr. Apple Smuggler — took one sharp glance around, clutched his apples like sacred artifacts, and bolted into the nearest alley without a word.
Kim Byeol-ha blinked once, watching him vanish like smoke.
"...Okay," he muttered, unimpressed."At least he got me here before bailing. That's like... 3/10 service. Generous rating."
He dusted his jeans lazily, yawned, and summoned a small stream of clean water with a snap of his fingers.Elemental water — pure, sparkling, slightly cooler than judgmental stares.
Byeol-ha washed his hands thoroughly, like a true civilized man in the middle of the apocalypse.
He patted his hoodie dry and looked around.
The slums were... worse than expected.Buildings leaned against each other like drunk uncles at a funeral.Laundry lines sagged overhead. The ground was cracked, muddy, littered with broken tech and shattered dreams.
The air here didn't just smell bad — it felt bad.Heavy. Oppressive. Like it was mad you were still alive.
"Yup. Peak real estate investment opportunity," Byeol-ha said sarcastically, adjusting his hoodie. "Gotta buy now before property values skyrocket, right?"
He spotted a man in the distance — rough jacket, worn boots, carrying a battered bag — heading toward what looked like a cluster of barely-standing homes.
Finally, a normal human.
Byeol-ha jogged up, waving casually.
"Yo! Excuse me!" he called.
The man turned, sharp and suspicious — but then froze. His eyes widened, mouth falling open.
Byeol-ha slowed down, puzzled.
The man stared at him like he was seeing a ghost.
"You... You're...!"
Byeol-ha tilted his head.
The man dropped the pipe and stumbled closer, eyes wide with something suspiciously like recognition.
"You're Kim Byeol-ha!" the man gasped. "Little Byeol-ha from House 17!"
Byeol-ha blinked.
"...Huh."
He gave the man a once-over.Face leathery with sun, hair thinning, clothes stitched a thousand times over.
Nope. Didn't ring a bell.
"Sorry, do I know you?" Byeol-ha asked politely around a bite of another conjured apple.
The man laughed — a cracked, hoarse sound — and wiped his eyes roughly.
"Of course you don't remember, kid. It's been ten years for us. You were just a teenager back then... We thought you died in the First Calamity."
Byeol-ha chewed thoughtfully.
"Technically, I got yeeted into interdimensional hell," he said casually. "But sure, let's call it 'missing.' Sounds cuter."
The man smiled weakly, still staring at him like a ghost.
"Come, come," he said, grabbing Byeol-ha's sleeve. "You need to hear... You need to know what happened."
"Eh?" Byeol-ha raised an eyebrow. "Isn't it easier if you just point me to House 17 and let me discover the horror myself?"
The man shook his head fiercely.
"No," he said. "You need to prepare yourself first."
That... didn't sound good.
Still, Byeol-ha shrugged and let himself be dragged toward a nearby shack that looked only slightly more stable than a house of cards.
Inside, it was cramped but clean.A single chipped table.Two battered chairs.A sad little oil lamp flickering in the corner.
Byeol-ha sat down, crossing one leg lazily over the other, twirling his apple by the stem.
"Alright, Old Man Neighbor," he said. "Lay it on me."
The man took a deep breath.
"After you disappeared... your family searched everywhere for you. Your eldest brother, Kim Tae-yang, refused to believe you were dead. He kept leading search parties for months... until the monsters overwhelmed the city."
Byeol-ha smiled slightly.
Tae-yang hyung... still stubborn, huh?
The man went on, voice tightening.
"Your twin sisters, Bit-na and Eo-ra... They were devastated. Especially Eo-ra. She blamed herself for not protecting you."
Byeol-ha's smile faltered, fingers tightening around his apple.
"...What happened to them?" he asked, voice low.
The man swallowed hard.
"About two weeks after the Calamity began... Bit-na... She... was assaulted by one of the local gang leaders."
Byeol-ha blinked slowly.
The apple in his hand cracked, juice running down his fingers.
The man hurried on.
"She tried to... She almost ended herself. But Tae-yang stopped her. He fought to keep them alive. But Eo-ra — she couldn't take it. She signed a Star Contract — one of the first — to get power. She killed the bastard who hurt her sister... but paid a heavy price."
Byeol-ha stared, motionless.
The man's hands trembled as he continued.
"Eo-ra lost her eyesight during a dungeon raid. Permanent damage. She's blind now... And Bit-na... she gave birth to a son a few months later."
Silence pressed down heavy between them.
Byeol-ha's chest tightened painfully.
Little sisters...
But the man wasn't done.
"Later, a slaver mistook Eo-ra for Bit-na — tried to sell her in the black markets. She fought her way back home. Alone. Covered in blood. The money she stole back saved the family from starving that month."
Byeol-ha shut his eyes briefly.
And the final blow:
"Tae-yang... he was working construction to support them. Fell from a collapsed scaffold. Been in a coma ever since."
Byeol-ha opened his eyes slowly.
They were no longer lazy and golden and amused.
They were molten.Burning.
The man shifted uneasily under his gaze, mistaking it for anger directed at him.
"I... I'm sorry," the man whispered. "We all tried to help, but..."
Byeol-ha stood up, tossing the ruined apple into the cracked fireplace.
"...Show me the way back home," he said.
The man hesitated.
"You... you remember where it is, right?"
Byeol-ha smiled humorlessly.
"It's been a thousand years for me, neighbor," he said softly."I don't even remember my own birthday."
The man looked stunned.
But he stood up, grabbed his coat, and led the way without another word.
Byeol-ha followed in silence, hands stuffed deep into his pockets, head bowed slightly.
The lazy stray cat had vanished.In his place walked something sharper.Quieter.
Deadlier.
And somewhere, in the broken heart of the slums, his family waited — battered, broken, but still breathing.
And for them...Byeol-ha would tear this rotten world apart if he had to.
I'm home now, he thought. And anyone who hurt my family... better start digging their graves.