Chapter 58: Every Time the Door Opens

‘They lift a curse in the bustling district and drain the life force of the people there.’

If something this large-scale had truly occurred, it would normally become widely known almost immediately, without delay or concealment.

The reason Park Ha-na had turned on the TV in the first place was because she expected to see a very specific kind of scene unfolding.

Crowds of people blindly gathering and converging toward a single point, broadcasting drones flying chaotically through the air, the excited and almost frantic voices of news anchors shouting updates, and urgent calls summoning the Seonghwa Knights or priest-class hunters—those were the kinds of sights she had anticipated.

However, on every channel she checked, there was nothing remotely resembling any of that.

Even on the management monitoring screen she later brought up, the only thing visible was people passing by peacefully, as if nothing unusual had ever happened.

Park Ha-na cautiously called out to the one staring so intently at the screen that it seemed as though he might bore a hole through it.

“Varkan…”

“What kind of damned bastard is this…!”

“Pardon?”

At the murderous tone in Varkan’s curse, Park Ha-na flinched involuntarily.

With an expression that looked as if he might tear someone apart at any moment, he pointed sharply at the screen.

“Look at the ground over there!”

“The ground…?”

Park Ha-na quickly zoomed in on the footage.

People were noticeably avoiding certain sections of the road, walking around them instead of crossing straight through.

There were holes scattered throughout, and the surface was cracked and uneven.

It was centered precisely around the spot where Varkan had driven his sword into the ground earlier.

“The Seonghwa Knights…? No, that can’t be right… I’ll reanalyze the footage. Maybe someone inside it—”

Her face turned pale as she frantically rewound the video.

Further back, and then further still—until it reached the exact moment right after they had left the area.

The curse had undeniably activated properly.

Before leaving the marketplace, they had personally confirmed that people were beginning to gather.

Even in the footage, at first, more and more people continued to converge.

The crowd became so dense it resembled a tightly packed box of matches, exceeding even saturation.

Just as the curse was about to fully ripen and take effect—

Boom, boom, boom!

Suspicious bursts of flame erupted in all directions, and in that instant, the movement of the crowd froze completely.

Then, as if snapping back to their senses, the people dispersed like a receding tide. It took less than ten minutes for the entire area to clear out.

During that time, Varkan, who had already cooled down and regained composure, called out to her.

“Ha-na.”

“…Yes?”

“Analyze it properly. Don’t miss whoever did this, no matter what!”

“Yes… yes, Varkan!”

Park Ha-na nodded repeatedly, her body trembling uncontrollably.

Watching her, Park Seong-beom’s expression twisted into something grim and unsettling.

Superior and subordinate?

No—that was far too generous a description.

‘Did I bring in a tiger instead of a man?’

The regret came far too late.

“…The time frame was from around four fifty in the afternoon for approximately twenty minutes. The curse combined elements of crowd aggregation, suggestion, hypnosis, and life force absorption. It would be best to directly investigate the people who were present there. Inform Park Ki-beom and Guild Leader Ji Yul-geon…”

“Uncle! Uncle, look at this!”

The moment Park Seong-yeon received Go Nam-tae’s note, he ran over immediately.

As the two men read the contents, their expressions distorted at the same time.

Park Ki-beom immediately called out to Jeong Sang-myeong.

“Check the Dokkaebi Mall perimeter alert system right now. Go back to before four o’clock this afternoon. There’s no way a curse of this scale was cast without preparation. Search everything thoroughly!”

“Yes, sir!”

Ji Yul-geon stood up as well, following behind.

“I should go personally. Something like this, I should also—”

At that moment, a staff member monitoring the Labyrinth rushed in, shouting urgently.

“Guild Leader, it has opened!”

The Labyrinth entrance, which had been on the verge of opening for some time, had finally opened at that very moment.

Ji Yul-geon hesitated briefly.

Should he pursue the traces of the curse, or enter the Labyrinth?

The perpetrator was bold.

They had attempted a large-scale curse in the middle of a public street, almost as if they did not care about being discovered—or even as if they were inviting pursuit.

Would this truly be the last incident?

If they were to track the culprit, now was the best opportunity.

A curse always leaves traces, but those traces fade over time.

However, if he left, what about Park Ki-beom?

Park Ki-beom waved his hand first.

“Don’t worry. Last time, I just chose to withdraw at the end. So go and do what you need to do.”

He was not the type to bluff.

But conquering floors above fifty always required risking one’s life.

If this had been the original seventeenth Labyrinth that Park Ki-beom frequently entered, Ji Yul-geon would not have even suggested going together.

But this was a newly formed Labyrinth.

The boss might be a similar type of entity, but it would not be the same one.

It was like the difference between a tiger of Jirisan and a tiger of Baekdusan—similar in name, but entirely different in nature.

The path leading to it would differ, and so would the kin controlled by the boss.

In fact, the unfamiliar environment itself might be more dangerous than the boss battle.

Moreover, there was no pre-secured safe zone on the fifty-first floor this time—they would have to create one from scratch.

That alone made it equivalent to a completely new expedition.

“Where do you think I’m going? Do you know how many days I’ve been waiting here for this?”

“Go. It’s a curse. If not you, who else could catch someone like that?”

“The curse isn’t even active anymore. Even if I go now, how do I know I’ll catch someone who’s already fled? Just issue the entry order already!”

As the argument between the one trying to send and the one insisting on staying escalated, Park Seong-yeon’s phone rang.

He waved it urgently.

“Wait a moment, both of you. My brother sent another note. Please give me a moment!”

When he returned, he held a second note.

Its contents were even more shocking than the first.

“I believe I’ve identified the source of the curse. I’ve attached a drawing of its appearance below. I am currently tracking the caster based on this, and I will inform you again if there are any changes.”

The two men fell silent after reading it.

The drawing, apparently done by Go Nam-tae himself, was incredibly detailed—almost like a photograph.

The figure itself was simple, yet merely looking at it evoked a strong sense of malice and hatred.

They already knew from experience that Go Nam-tae’s food could withstand powerful curses.

He had described his own ability as that of a ‘farmer.’

But this suggested something else entirely—he could not only neutralize curses, but also track them.

“Since my brother said he’ll contact us again… perhaps we should wait for now?”

The two men turned sharply toward Park Seong-yeon.

It was absurd that such critical information was being relayed through their young nephew.

It would have been better if Go Nam-tae had contacted Park Ki-beom directly.

However, the self-proclaimed ‘introverted’ Go Nam-tae communicated only with Park Seong-yeon, aside from the Kim Gu-bok family.

“Uncle…?”

“The Labyrinth comes first. Let’s go! We’ll deal with the culprit after we conquer it!”

Ji Yul-geon strode out without hesitation.

As Park Ki-beom followed, he paused and looked back.

“I’ll say this again—we’re going straight to the fiftieth floor. If you can’t adapt there, you return immediately. Understood?”

“Yes, I understand. I won’t be a burden. If I become a problem, I’ll withdraw right away. But before that, I want to prove I can do my part.”

“That’s how it should be.”

He patted his nephew’s shoulder, then bowed slightly toward Yang Man-chun.

“Please take care of him.”

“I will protect the young master with my life.”

“Please don’t call me that!”

“If you prove yourself this time, I will drop the title.”

“Really?”

By the time Park Ki-beom stepped outside, preparations were already complete.

Since they would typically remain inside the Labyrinth for over a month, the amount of luggage was enormous.

Although special items reduced the bulk, everyone except the combat personnel carried loads.

Park Seong-yeon was no exception.

Even though healers were often treated as combatants and exempted, his load appeared to be the largest.

Reporters observing from a distance captured the scene.

They dared not cross the boundary but had been waiting as eagerly as the guild members themselves.

“Look at Park Seong-yeon. What is he even carrying?”

“Probably for show. He’s a candidate for successor—he needs to build a good image.”

“Even as a healer, can he really compete with Park Ha-na?”

“We’ll see soon enough.”

Despite swaying under the weight, his steps remained relatively light.

The entrance to the Labyrinth lay halfway up a steep slope.

As he climbed the hastily built stone steps, something inside his bag rattled.

Very few knew that half of what he carried had nothing to do with the expedition.

His eyes were filled with firm determination.

‘He told me to mark coordinates wherever Nam-tae goes.’

Park Ki-beom entered first, followed by Ji Yul-geon, then their teams, and finally Park Seong-yeon with Yang Man-chun.

As a conqueror of the fifty-first floor, Park Ki-beom was given a choice.

[Which floor would you like to enter?]

“The fiftieth floor.”

Fortunately, Go Nam-tae regained consciousness without being forced to eat fermented soybean paste rice cake.

Danhong had tried, but she recoiled at the smell and ran away before she could even scoop it.

However, what awaited him was not success either.

The first thing he saw upon waking was a failed, unrecognizable mass stuck to the rice cake board.

“We pounded it hard like the boss did, but it didn’t turn into rice cake.”

‘This is strange.’

‘That’s not rice cake.’

Everyone looked dejected, so he could not bring himself to scold them.

Fortunately, they were skilled at cleaning and managed to fix things themselves.

Danhong’s first ambitious attempt would have to wait for another time.

After eating what was available, Go Nam-tae immediately opened the door again.

Naturally, it was the same place as before.

“Heung-bok, how is it? Can you feel it?”

“…Yes, very faintly. This time, I made it a little stronger.”

He threw something similar to the pumpkin he had sent through earlier.

Moments later, a pumpkin vine sprouted right in front of the door.

Something wrapped in leaves was being crushed repeatedly as the vine extended.

‘Boss, I’m throwing it now.’

“Got it.”

From the other side, the vine tossed it over before disappearing.

Wrapped tightly in leaves, it was the seed of the curse containing the doll.

Seeing the doll inside the sphere made Go Nam-tae’s breath catch.

The curse it had uttered came back to him.

‘Every time you open the door, I will destroy everything you hold dear.’

‘Everything I hold dear…’

The previous boss was gone—but if its curse remained?

This could be the beginning.

“Every time I open the door… does that mean the curse exists because of me?”

[Absolutely not.]

[Focus on what was said just before that.]

‘I almost had enough power to cross into your world!’

“Ah…”

That was right.

If he had not defeated the boss, Earth might already have been conquered.

‘Every time the door opens.’

That part still lingered in his mind.

But even if he stopped opening doors, would the curse cease?

No—this was clearly the work of someone else.

All he needed to do was find that person.

The trace of the curse in the sphere was extremely faint.

It was even weaker than the degraded curse he had found by the riverside.

But it was not something his kin should treat as a toy.

He lit the furnace and threw the sphere inside.

A faint scream echoed briefly before vanishing into nothingness.