4: The Military Has Really Let Something Major Slip Through the Cracks This Time
“Seriously, don’t even think about taking on that monster,” Seojun warned again.
It was not as though he genuinely expected to change Johan’s—or anyone else’s—mind. Even as he spoke, his gaze remained fixed on Bobby’s sweat-soaked collar.
He stared so intently that Bobby began to squirm.
“Stop looking at me.”
At Bobby’s muttered complaint, Seojun finally tore his eyes away.
Beside them, Johan casually flicked his wrist, sending the key ring spinning lazily around one finger.
“Okay, I understand, Jun. I’ll be careful.”
His tone was light and reassuring as he strolled closer, appearing completely at ease.
“Johan, we seriously need to talk about—”
“Hold that thought, Jun.”
Johan pressed an index finger to his lips.
Seojun heard it too.
Something enormous was moving through the grass outside, producing a low, unnatural rustling that was impossible to ignore.
Seojun immediately closed his mouth.
The oppressive tension in the room seemed to loosen, only to be replaced by a chill that crept along his arms.
He desperately wanted to see what was happening outside, but the makeshift kitchen had no windows. Its battered metal door was the only way in or out.
An agonizing silence followed.
At last, Johan whispered, “It’s gone, Jun.”
He took Seojun by the wrist and gently pulled him down.
“Yeah,” Seojun whispered back.
He lowered himself flat against the floor and tried to peer through the narrow gap beneath the door. It was too dark outside, and the opening was far too small.
“I can’t see anything.”
He rose and brushed the dirt from his knees.
“Do you need help with your back and thighs too?” Johan whispered, leaning close.
Seojun stared at him, taken aback by the strangely secretive offer.
Why would Johan suggest something like that in such a hushed voice?
“No. I’m fine.”
Seojun turned his attention to the lantern, adjusting the flame and silently hoping that the monster truly had gone.
“So, what are we supposed to do with this corpse?”
“You really can turn anything into a joke, can’t you?” Bobby remarked.
Seojun ignored him.
He crouched beside the body and immediately regretted it when the corpse’s foul stench struck him full in the face.
He brought the lantern closer.
Its flickering orange light revealed just how advanced the body’s decomposition had become.
Bobby, standing beside him, gagged.
Fully illuminated, the upper half of the corpse looked even more gruesome than before. Fighting back his nausea, Bobby shoved the lantern away.
“Why are we even examining this thing?”
“Come on, Bobby. Think about it. Try using that brain of yours for once,” Seojun replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Johan stepped forward and used the key ring to prod the corpse’s clothing.
The lightweight fabric shifted easily beneath it.
“Is this a military uniform?” he murmured. “Maybe he was some kind of military enthusiast.”
Despite the corpse’s condition, its clothing remained surprisingly intact.
The dead man wore a digital camouflage shirt beneath a tactical vest. Seojun assumed that the missing lower half of his body had been dressed in similar clothing.
“A soldier in Wraithwood Warren?” Bobby scoffed. “He was probably just some loser obsessed with military cosplay.”
Ordinarily, the surrounding area was peaceful.
Recently, however, it had become the hunting ground of both a serial killer and an unidentified man-eating creature.
That, presumably, was Bobby’s point.
Seojun’s lips parted.
A name flashed through his mind, accompanied by a vivid memory of several obscene gestures.
“Butcher Bren!”
“Bren?” Bobby asked. “The famous dancer? Mr. Tango himself?”
Whether Bren possessed any genuine dancing ability was debatable, but he had certainly moved enthusiastically along the road with Brass that night.
Seojun ignored Bobby’s useless contribution and hurried on.
“Brass said he saw a military truck around dawn. I thought he was imagining things, but maybe this soldier was riding in it...”
His voice trailed off.
He did not need to finish the thought.
Johan and Bobby could easily reach the same conclusion.
The unfortunate soldier had probably met his gruesome end before sunrise.
“So the monster killed him,” Johan mused. “What a strange world we live in.”
“Yeah, but where the hell did the monster come from in the first place?”
“Outer space.”
While Johan and Seojun remained focused on the corpse, Bobby, who had retreated several steps, suddenly joined the conversation.
Seojun turned toward him.
Bobby’s expression was caught somewhere between excitement and terror. His face was pale, but his cheeks and the tip of his nose were flushed. His eyes gleamed as he stared at the mutilated torso.
“Guys, this proves the stories about Hannah O’Lantern were true! The military was trying to cover up the monster, but it attacked them instead.”
Johan gave Bobby’s trembling shoulder a reassuring pat.
“Easy, Bobby. It could just be some deranged government experiment. Maybe something involving radiation.”
Seojun rolled his eyes.
America was overflowing with conspiracy theories, and the two men standing beside him were perfect examples of why.
Bobby only grew more animated.
“No way! The way Hannah O’Lantern’s friends died is too similar to what happened to this soldier. It proves that whatever Hannah encountered has returned.”
He drew a sharp breath.
“And on Independence Day, of all days!”
“Hannah O’Lantern, Jack O’Lantern—whatever.”
Seojun waved a dismissive hand.
“You make it sound as though traveling from space to Earth is effortless. What, does Earth have its own Wraithwood Warren station?”
“Ugh...”
Bobby rolled his eyes in irritation.
Seojun could not help laughing.
To him, the monster was nothing more than a ridiculous creation dreamed up by some B-movie director.
For someone who considered himself spiritually possessed by the horror genre, he could be remarkably narrow-minded and stubborn.
“If that thing really came from outer space, I’ll strip naked and dance. I’ll even show everyone the mole under my balls.”
Perhaps Seojun was using the moment to release some of his accumulated frustration toward Bobby, who was always so quick to accuse him of things.
Whatever the reason, he did not hold back.
It was a vulgar and reckless wager, but he made it with complete confidence.
“Actually, I’m beginning to believe the alien theory too,” Johan said suddenly.
“What?”
Seojun, who had been enjoying Bobby’s intermittent gagging, spun toward him.
Only moments earlier, Johan had seemed committed to the government-experiment explanation. Now he appeared ready to join Bobby’s alien conspiracy.
“Think about it, Jun,” Johan continued. “We’ve all heard stories about animals and plants mutating because of radiation. But what if the creature came from space?”
He spoke with increasing conviction.
“We live in an age when humans have already reached the moon. It isn’t completely impossible that the government could be experimenting on extraterrestrial life. Maybe that military truck was transporting one of those creatures.”
Seojun listened in silence, feeling as though he had been swept into a whirlpool of government cover-ups and alien conspiracies.
He raised the lantern and shone it directly into Johan’s face, searching for some sign that he was joking.
Johan’s blue eyes were wide and entirely sincere.
“You’re unusually talkative today, Johan.”
“I’m simply being my usual perfect self,” Johan replied without hesitation.
Seojun decided to ignore the nonsensical answer.
He bit his lip and sank into thought.
At the moment, Christina—the protagonist of this horror story—was the only person he truly believed he could rely on.
He assumed that the more hardships she endured, the stronger she would become.
The more often she was forced to scream and fight, the greater her chances of survival.
Seojun sincerely hoped he could remain close to her and benefit from her protagonist’s luck.
“By the way, do you think Christina got away safely? It would be... problematic if she ran into Gas Mask.”
He was reasonably certain Christina would not fall victim to Gas Mask.
He had far less confidence in William and Airi’s chances.
Bobby, overhearing Seojun’s muttering, hesitated before asking, “Is that Gas Mask thing actually real?”
“Bobby, I’d appreciate it if you stopped acting as though I invented the whole thing just so I could chase you around with an axe.”
Seojun’s irritation was beginning to show.
“Don’t worry too much, Jun,” Johan said reassuringly. “Willy is with her.”
In stories like this, muscular male characters who were not the protagonist rarely survived for long.
They usually had their heads chopped off or were stabbed from behind during an overly passionate sex scene.
Seojun saw no reason to believe William would escape the same fate.
He rubbed his forehead with his free hand and sighed.
“I should have warned her about the chef.”
“The chef?” Johan asked. “What chef?”
He gently pulled Seojun’s hand away from his forehead and began rubbing the tense spot himself.
The warmth of Johan’s touch spread across Seojun’s skin.
Seojun looked up and found genuine concern written across Johan’s face.
His heart began to race.
He swallowed before answering.
“There’s someone here whose scars look as though they were left by a bear.”
“That man isn’t a chef,” Bobby interrupted. “He’s the camp manager.”
He continued before Seojun could stop him.
“He said he was going to cook for us tomorrow, but he didn’t exactly look very competent in the kitchen.”
For once, Seojun could not bring himself to scold Bobby.
He could only hope that this was another of Bobby’s usual exaggerations.
Johan, however, gave no indication that he thought Bobby was joking.
Slowly, Seojun recalled his first encounter with Gas Mask at Hamon Camp.
More importantly, he remembered the building the killer had emerged from.
It was the guardhouse.