Ghost Apple

It felt like sinking into pitch-black water, so dark not even a step ahead could be seen.

The darkness that spread in every direction resembled a comforting night’s curtain, and the stillness—so deep not even the faintest ripple could be heard—came as a rare and unexpected sense of peace. As he sank endlessly into this abyss with no way out, he thought it might not be so bad to close his eyes and let go.

This, from someone who had once clung so fiercely to life.

Biiiiiip—

A faint sound, like a tiny bird’s chirp, echoed distantly.

That slow, drawn-out tone, fragile like someone breathing softly, grew gradually clearer—slow, but unmistakably real. As the sound sharpened, colors began to bloom in what had once been a vision filled with nothing but black.

At first, it looked like a single red dot.

As time passed, the dot stretched out into threads, countless strands unraveling in all directions.

To the sides, above, below, encircling outward and curling back around behind—

And at the end of that intricate spread, what formed was the shape of a person, a human figure made entirely of thread.

Despite the absence of light, the form was somehow vividly clear, as if touched by magic—its outline shining in defiance of the surrounding void.

The man bound in the red threads—a young man—sat hunched over, motionless like a corpse.

Beep— Beep—

The high-pitched sound that pierced the darkness began to beat in regular intervals, starting just as the figure wrapped in red appeared. At the same time, the tone turned shrill—no longer reminiscent of birdsong, but more like a siren, a scream, a warning.

And then—

The man, who had seemed utterly still, slowly lifted his head.

It was only then the realization struck—he wasn’t bound in red thread.

He was covered in them—red lines like exposed veins sprawled across his skin, grotesquely vivid as if someone had dragged his insides out for the world to see. Those raw, crimson tendrils wrapped mercilessly around his frail body.

His heart began to race.

An urge surged through him, a craving as primal as bloodlust.

He wanted to touch that body, devour it like a starving vampire. He imagined his tongue flicking across every winding strand, licking them up as if savoring them. He longed to bare his teeth and bite down into that flesh entwined in red.

So intense was the desire that the sight alone nearly overwhelmed him.

Beep— Beep— Beep—

The noise encircling him seemed to attack that insolent, rising desire, as if to suppress it.

And just then, as though something had grabbed him tight, his sinking body was suddenly yanked upward.

What followed was a terrible weight—crushing, suffocating—paired with a dull, throbbing pain.

Wait!

He shouted in panic, feeling as if he were being forcibly pulled out of the depths.

But the cry was a soundless scream.

The only sound that resonated in this space was the blaring, merciless alarm.

Beep— Beep— Beep— Beep—

The warning tone pulsed at fixed intervals, steadily dragging him upward, higher and higher.

Below, the man who had curled up in silence at the bottom—as if he’d fallen into ruin alone—grew ever smaller, his figure fading into the distance.

If only his hands had existed in that darkness, he would’ve desperately reached out for him. He’d have thrashed about, trying to grab hold no matter what—shoulders dislocating, arms tearing away from his body—and he wouldn’t have even noticed.

That was how desperately he wanted to hold onto him.  The sheer dread of not being able to grasp that man sparked an overwhelming sense of crisis—one that ignited a firestorm of terror.

Stop!

As if in response to his desperation, the man looked up at him. By then, he was already so far away he looked no bigger than a palm. But their eyes met.

Those red eyes—just as vivid as the veins that had wrapped around him.

When he came to, enough light was pouring through his still-closed eyelids to tell him he was no longer in that darkness. Pushing open his unusually heavy eyelids, the glare of a bright overhead light flooded his vision.

It took a moment for his eyes to properly focus. Around the same time, sensations began to stir across his body.

Beep-beep—

The sound of the EKG machine steadily poked at his hazy mind.

“Are you awake?”

Still staring blankly at the white ceiling, he slowly turned his head. Standing beside the bed was a middle-aged man in a white coat, wearing a warm, gentle smile. Behind him stood five others, dressed in the same attire, bowing politely.

“Do you recognize who I am?”

At the man’s cautious question, he moved his lips, dry and cracked. A foggy breath gathered inside the oxygen mask pressing gently against his nose and mouth.

“…Director Shin.”

At that simple reply, the faces of the middle-aged man and the rest of the medical staff instantly brightened.

“The surgery was a complete success. Your physical recovery rate is excellent, and your ESP wave synchronization is showing no signs of rejection.”

His voice carried not just relief, but a hint of excitement.

And yet, the patient who had just undergone this supposedly successful surgery said nothing. His lips remained sealed.

Gradually, the expressions of the medical staff began to shift, tinged now with unease and apprehension.

“Are you feeling any pain or discomfort…?”

“No.”

He gave a short answer to the careful question, then raised his right hand and placed it over the left side of his chest.

More than the sting of the IV needle embedded in the back of his hand, it was the steady, undeniable thump beneath his palm that pleased him.

“…It’s very good.”

The newly implanted heart throbbed as though it had always belonged to him—softly, smoothly, seamlessly.

***

On a quiet street, the only sound came from a wall-mounted outdoor TV at a well-maintained electronics store, currently broadcasting the news.

Amidst a backdrop of massive explosions that looked like scenes from a blockbuster film, a fearless reporter was passionately delivering a live update.

—“The Esper who went berserk this time is an A-rank elemental type, capable of creating fire and causing explosive, high-impact attac—!!”

The rest of the sentence was drowned out completely by another booming explosion.

Even without hearing the full report, it was obvious that the Esper causing the havoc had an extremely dangerous ability.

Cha Han-gyeom stood alone on the empty street, watching the live broadcast. Judging by the location displayed in the captions, it was some distance away, but still within Seoul.

Through towering flames of red and yellow and amidst the chaos of massive detonations, a dark silhouette appeared.

No—it wasn’t just a shadow.

It was a creature.

Towering at nearly twice the height of a grown man, with muscles so engorged they looked ready to burst. Its skin was black, its face hideously twisted and unrecognizable, bearing a grotesque distortion of any human features. Two massive horns curved out from its forehead, arcing back like those of a mountain goat.

It was a monstrous black beast, the kind that belonged in fantasy novels or films.

—KRRRAAAAAHHH!

At first glance, the roar sounded like pure rage, an anguished scream of fury. But to Cha Han-gyeom, it sounded more like a desperate, sorrowful wail—like someone crying because they didn’t know what else to do.

—“Abilities units have just arrived at the scene to suppress the rampage!”

The reporter’s urgent voice cut in, and the camera swiftly panned away from the explosion site.

What the camera revealed next was three individuals stepping out of a sleek, black-tinted vehicle. Each of them was dressed in a sharp black suit, meticulously put together, and each had a small black emblem pinned to their lapel—signifying their status as Espers from the Association.

No Guide, Han-gyeom noted.

After showing the three agents readying for battle, the broadcast revealed no sign of anyone else. No Guide had arrived at the scene.

Seeing this, Han-gyeom reached out with a bitter expression. His fingertip tapped the touch-sensitive button designed for passersby to easily change the channel.

There was no need to keep watching. He already knew how it would end for that berserk Esper, now left to face suppression without a Guide.

They’d die—shattered into pieces by the hands of their own kind.

Treated like a ‘monster.’

And once it was all over, the reporter who had breathlessly followed the action, and the onlookers who had witnessed it in real time, would all cheer. To glorify the ‘heroes’ created by the Association.

He had no interest in that kind of scripted spectacle.

But the next channel was no different in its intentions.

—“Meanwhile, the Ability Association continues to offer support and donations to victims affected by unregistered or berserk Espers. This time, they’ve once again pledged a donation of 100 million won to the ‘Ja-ae Orphanage’…”

Another rampage incident by an unregistered Esper—just one of many that occurred every so often.

And once again, representatives from the Ability Association made a show of their charity, visiting orphanages in person, as they had done so many times before.

To Han-gyeom, who knew the true face they kept hidden in the shadows, that perfectly crafted image was nothing but revolting.

He stared at the screen broadcasting endless praise for the Association, his eyes gradually losing interest. Soon, he switched the channel again with a flat, indifferent gaze.

Considering the current rampage incident, it was peak airtime for Association-related news, so he figured the next channel would be more of the same.

—“…based on this, the Urban Crystal Battery is finally nearing full-scale commercialization. Seo Won, CEO of Prism BioBattery, has fulfilled the company’s long-held dream in just five years since taking office, and this achievement has drawn significant international attention.”

Contrary to his expectations, the next channel featured a news segment about secondary battery technology.

Battery development was one of the flagship ventures led by the domestic tech giant, Kangsan Group. The man on screen—CEO Seo Won—stood at the very center of that initiative.

Han-gyeom neither understood nor cared much for the subject, but the man basking in the spotlight was undeniably familiar, as befitted someone of such public prominence.