Joseph awoke from his ordeal as if nothing had happened. Despite what he had gone through, no visible marks remained on his body, as if the pain had hidden behind a curtain of forgetfulness.
He stood on his feet calmly, as if returning to life was not a miracle, but an old habit.
He turned toward Kim Jong-su and Elena Volkova, his features carrying deep gratitude.
In a low voice, he said:
"Thank you… for your help. I wish I could repay you."
Kim smiled faintly:
"No need to thank me, just… be careful next time."
He said this and walked away with Elena, their footsteps fading into the crowded street.
Joseph remained standing alone, in thick silence. He stared at his hands, and something inside him refused to believe what had happened.
"How… did this happen?"
He muttered the words like an echo he had yet to understand. He clenched his fist slowly, his eyes growing sharper.
"I wish I knew who stabbed me… I swear, if I find out, I won't let them live another minute."
But the night did not wait for his anger.
The sky above Seoul began to drown in darkness, and the city lights reflected off the clouds as if they were quietly burning.
Joseph sighed, turned calmly, and decided to head back home.
The calm before the storm… had already begun.
Joseph entered his home quietly, but what greeted him was not familiar.
Pitch darkness filled the space—no light, no movement… only silence pressing against the walls.
He moved forward slowly, calling out:
"Mary? Are you here?"
A faint worry touched his heart, but his hand quickly reached for the light switch and pressed it.
And suddenly, the surprise was revealed.
Mary was sitting on the couch, a simple cake in front of her with lit candles shaped like the number 22.
She smiled and said softly:
"Happy birthday, brother."
Joseph froze in place, his eyes on the cake, his face marked by surprise.
He had completely forgotten… his birthday.
He felt a strange mix of warmth and astonishment. He hadn't realized how time had passed.
At last, he smiled—a smile that rarely appeared on his face.
He sat down quietly, and before he could say a word, Mary turned off the lights and began to sing.
A simple song… her voice slightly trembling, but sincere.
And when she finished, he leaned forward and gently blew out the candles.
"This is for you."
She said, handing him a small box wrapped in blue paper.
Joseph opened it curiously to find anecklace bracelet with a unique design:
A star and crescent embracing at its center. A simple symbol—but its meaning struck deeply.
"Thank you, Mary,"
he said softly, gazing at the bracelet with a faint smile.
They shared the cake, exchanged laughter and short conversations…
Even though the day had begun stained with blood and mystery, its end carried a touch of peace.
And at midnight, when the city had quieted and Mary had fallen asleep on the couch, Joseph was in his room, sitting in the dark.
Suddenly, he stood up, put on his jacket, and cast a brief look at his sleeping sister… then opened the door and stepped out.
The street was silent… but he knew:
The calm before chaos had begun again.
In a dark corner of the city, where footsteps rarely tread, the old cemetery welcomed its only visitor.
Black clouds hid the moonlight, and the air was so still it felt suffocating.
Amid the rows of cold stone, Joseph knelt before two side-by-side graves. No names engraved, no flowers—just two gray stones worn by time.
He whispered in a voice barely audible:
"Mom… Dad… I wish you could hear me now.
I wish you could see me, even for a moment…"
He looked down at the ground, then continued in a hollow tone:
"Life gets harder with each passing day. Everything has changed… even me,
inside… and out."
He lowered his head, his gaze lost.
"My brother disappeared years ago. I held on to a small hope, fought for it, but it's gone.
The Agency? They did nothing.
They said they stopped the search… because the funding ran out."
He let out a short, lifeless laugh, then murmured:
"But it's okay… I got used to it.
I got used to losing."
His voice was cold, composed… until the first drops of rain began to fall.
Then another… and another, until everything around him was dripping… and the sky cried with him.
And with the falling rain, his tears began to stream. He didn't try to hide them.
They blended with the water from the sky, as if they had never been.
"I just wanted to tell you…
that you raised a brave man… a kind man.
A man whom life was cruel to,
and pushed beyond his limits."
He stood up quietly, his heart heavier than his steps.
He wiped his face and looked at the two graves one last time.
"I'll pray to God for you…
and ask Him to reunite us someday."
He paused for a moment…
then turned his back, placed his hands in his pockets, and walked away.
The darkness slowly swallowed him, until he disappeared completely among the shadows of the graves…
as if the earth itself refused to leave behind a trace of him.
Two days later – Shanghai, China
Night was falling over the enchanting city of Shanghai,
a night glowing with the lights of skyscrapers, unlike any other.
Atop one of its tall buildings stood a well-dressed man,
his long black hair swaying with the wind,
wearing a white jacket and black trousers.
In one hand, he toyed lightly with a gleaming dagger; in the other, a phone.
He raised the phone to his ear and said in a calm voice:
"Are you ready?"
A firm, confident female voice answered on the other end:
"Yes, we're ready."
He smiled slightly and said:
"As soon as I leave the building… go in. And finish what needs to be done."
Then he slowly ended the call and took a deep breath of the night air, exhaling it heavily.
"Alright… let the celebration begin."
Suddenly, he leapt off the building with ease, landing on a lower one.
In an instant, he crashed through a large window, the glass shattering and scattering in all directions—inside and out.
He had entered the top floor of the building.
Directly ahead, two guards stood, weapons raised without hesitation.
But… he didn't give them a chance to think.
With blinding speed, he moved forward like a dark shadow, his dagger flashing through the air.
A swift strike to the first guard's neck—and the man dropped to the ground, a headless corpse.
The second guard began firing, but the man didn't retreat.
He grabbed the first guard's head and hurled it forcefully at the second.
The bullets struck the airborne head, and then it slammed into the second guard's hand—causing his weapon to fall to the ground.
The guard froze, eyes wide, unable to process what was happening.
He looked at the pistol on the floor, then lifted his head… but saw nothing.
"Damn it… where did he go?!"
Before he could finish the sentence, he felt cold metal behind his head.
He glanced back with just his eyes…
The man was behind him, aiming the very same pistol that had just fallen.
The killer whispered into his ear:
"Move a single muscle… and consider yourself dead."
Inside the long corridor leading to the luxurious office,
the guard moved before the killer with heavy steps, trembling with every pace,
the cold barrel of the pistol behind him sending a chill he had never felt before.
"Where is your boss?"
The killer asked in a cold, emotionless voice.
The guard pointed fearfully to a door at the end of the hallway:
"H-He's… in his office… there…"
The killer ordered:
"Move… ahead of me."
They reached a massive door and entered.
The office was luxurious—polished wooden desk, walls covered with glass panels, silky curtains, and a heavy scent of perfume filling the space.
In the center of the room sat a fat old man, well-dressed in clothes that bore the marks of wealth and arrogance, with a fierce guard dog by his side.
The moment the dog sensed danger, it erupted into violent barking and leapt toward the intruder—
but… two quick bullets pierced its skull, and it fell dead at its owner's feet.
The old man froze in place, the only sound filling the silence was the smoke rising from the pistol's barrel.
The killer aimed the weapon at him and said:
"I heard you have the best weapons with exceptional durability…
How about you give me one… in exchange for staying alive?"
The fat man had no choice.
He struggled to rise from his chair, his steps heavy, fear almost outweighing his weight.
He moved toward the wall behind the desk, pressed a small hidden button, and a secret door opened.
They entered a narrow room, partially dark, but filled with shelves and weapons.
He began to browse through them.
Every sword he picked tested, but broke.
He tossed the swords one by one, until his eyes landed on a different sword.
Its design was elegant, the sheath adorned with silver engravings, and the grip wrapped in black leather decorated with an unfamiliar symbol.
He reached out toward it.
"No… no, please!"
The old man shouted, begging,
"Take anything… take them all! Just don't take that sword!"
But he did not respond.
Slowly, he turned his pistol and pointed it at the old man's head…
One shot.
The old man's head slammed against the wall, blood splattering over the polished wood.
He then turned to the trembling guard,
"It's your turn now."
A second shot.
He returned to the sword, drew it from its sheath, and swung it once.
The sword didn't tremble… it didn't break… instead, a faint energy pulsed from its blade, as if something inside it was awakening.
He smiled a small smile and said,
"This is what I was looking for."
He sheathed the sword and walked calmly out of the office.
He didn't run, didn't hide, as if the blood he left behind was nothing but necessary steps on a long road… toward something greater.
He strode steadily through the upper floor, his sword hanging on his back, his features still cloaked in that deadly calm.
Finally, he reached the edge… the heart of the building from above.
There, right in the center, hung a giant chandelier suspended by golden chains, its sparkling lights cascading down to every floor, reflecting dazzling beauty and luxurious charm.
Below and along the sides of the building, the polished marble floor gleamed, where a fully elegant party was taking place.
Classical music echoed,
men in sharp suits, women in sparkling dresses,
glasses clinking, laughter flying through the air,
dancing, conversations.
Then he stood at the edge, looking down from above, seeing the faces…
No one looked up. No one knew the danger looming over them.
He smiled lightly, removed his white jacket to reveal two faces behind his back that from afar might look like tattoos, but up close were lethal weapons.
"The real party…"
he said in a low voice, as if announcing the end of the first act,
"…is about to begin."
And in a single moment—he jumped.
He fell from the upper floor like a black comet!
Landing in the center of the hall, amid everyone's stunned silence, his eyes glowing with an unnatural calm.
The celebration… had just begun.
He descended into the center of the hall, exactly where all eyes and lights converged.
He slowly raised his hands,
his right palm aligned with his left,
his fingers spread out, as if two mirrors reflecting each other.
Enhancement " the Unknown Face"
He whispered it as if it were a ritual summoning hell itself.
From the right side of his back…
that face emerged.
A twisted face, resembling a human's, with two black eyes centered by pupils of dark crimson red,
moving, spinning… twisting… swirling.
It began to spiral inside the building,
its shining eye searching through the crowd,
and anyone who looked directly at that face…
stopped.
Then froze.
Then… became prey.
The face kept spinning… until the man reached the first floor,
and from there… stood firmly and smoothly on the ground.
A moment passed…
then he said:
"Suicide."
As if the word itself was an order that could not be refused.
Suddenly, those present on the upper floors began to move.
No screams… no resistance…
They jumped.
One after another.
Men, women, even children…
Their bodies fell like rain,
collapsing on top of each other,
piling up, breaking,
until the hall's floor became a heap of corpses.
The face slowly returned to its place, disappearing into its owner's back…
while he stood amidst the death, expressionless, silent, without regret.
A party ended with a single word.
He left the building with steady steps, the sword dangling from his side, its gleam dripping—not blood, but a threat.
His face was void of expression… as if nothing had just happened.
At the exit, a young woman awaited him, her hair tied back,
accompanied by five men with stern faces and light weapons.
She smiled confidently and said:
"I didn't expect you to come out this fast, Long."
He lightly swung the sword, as if dancing with it in the air:
"If I'd had this sword from the start…
I would have finished the operation before it began."
She chuckled softly, though inside she wasn't sure if he was joking:
"You're exaggerating… but alright, now our work begins."
He waved his hand without looking:
"Don't forget the deal… the quarter is yours, the rest is mine."
He quietly opened the car door, sat behind the wheel,
and drove off.
As for her and her team, they entered the building cautiously.
Their mission was simple:
gather everything valuable… then leave quietly.
But…
the moment they stepped inside, their footsteps came to a halt.
They gathered on the first floor, their breaths frozen.
There was a massive pile of corpses…
men, women, children, faces pressed against the floor, some swollen, some broken…
and the floor had turned into a pool of blood.
The girl raised her hand to her mouth, stifling a gasp.
She whispered, her eyes fixed on the bodies:
"Did he do this?…"
In a luxurious apartment perched atop one of Shanghai's tallest buildings,
where the entire city stretched beneath like an enchanting painting,
Long stepped out of the bathroom, steam still rising from his body.
He dried his long hair and dressed in elegant clothes…
a classic design inspired by the attire of old nobility, yet carrying the elegance of modern times.
He moved calmly toward the wide glass window that separated his apartment from the world,
before him the city sparkled with lights—skyscrapers, the harbor, and the river cutting through the heart of civilization.
The night was clear, the moon centered in the sky.
And at a nearby height, hundreds of small drones began to move in precise formation, preparing for a magical light show.
Long raised his phone and made a call.
A female voice answered immediately:
"Did everything go well?"
"Yes, everything is under control."
He asked calmly,
"When will the money be transferred?"
She replied confidently,
"Selling the goods will take a week,
but the funds will be transferred tomorrow."
Long sighed and said,
"Hurry it up… I have a lot to do."
He ended the call and put the phone in his pocket.
At that very moment, the drones launched into a mesmerizing display—
lights painting two golden dragons in the sky, moving in harmonious circles,
echoing the legends of ancient China…
But today, the legend stood alive, right behind the glass.
Long raised his right hand toward the moon,
his other hand in his pocket,
his silence deeper than all the city's noise.
"Thousands of years have passed…
empires have risen, and others have fallen.
But now… it is time for my empire to rise."
The air was cold,
the moonlight casting his shadow on the ground,
and the dragons hovered above him…
an unforgettable sight.
At dawn the next day, in Korea,
Joseph slowly rose from his bed, his body still adjusting to what had recently happened.
He entered the bathroom, stood under the hot water, trying to wash away all the questions gnawing at his mind.
After showering, he dressed and left the house.
The atmosphere was calm, and people moved comfortably through the streets of Seoul…
but his mind was elsewhere.
He kept recalling:
the stab wound… the bleeding… and then that strange moment… when his body healed in an unnatural way.
He asked himself in a low voice:
"Is this power from that entity?
Or is it… something connected to the Aev?"
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice until he collided with an old man.
"Ah! Haha… sorry, I didn't see you!"
Joseph said quickly, bowing in apology.
But the old man… froze.
He raised his trembling hand and pointed at Joseph with eyes full of panic:
"You… you are not human…! Stay away from me!!"
Then he hurriedly walked away, stumbling in his steps, until he disappeared into a side alley.
Joseph froze in place.
"Monster…?"
he whispered softly, then hurried after the old man, wondering:
"What did he mean?"
He followed his trail until they reached an old apartment building, and saw him enter a unit on the second floor.
Joseph climbed up and stood before the door, knocking gently.
No response.
He knocked again.
Then he heard a voice from inside, filled with fear:
"Who's there?!"
"I'm… the person you bumped into earlier."
Joseph replied, trying to sound calm.
But the old man's voice came sharp:
"Stay away from me! You monster!"
Joseph took a step forward and said with genuine sadness in his voice:
"I'm not a monster… I was just worried about you.
But I want to know… why did you say that?
What did you see in me that made you call me a monster?
Please… just tell me."
A heavy silence filled the space behind the door.
Then…
he heard the sound of a lock slowly being undone.
The old man appeared behind the crack of the door, fear still in his eyes but tinged with hesitation:
"It seems… you're not lying…"
He opened the door fully and said in a calm voice:
"Come in. I will talk…
but what I'm about to tell you… may not comfort you."
Joseph sat on the edge of the worn-out sofa, while the old man settled into his creaky wooden chair, staring at him intently, as if trying to read his history through his features.
"What's your name?"
the old man asked quietly.
"Joseph."
The old man raised an eyebrow:
"Are you a foreigner?"
Joseph looked away slightly toward the window and replied:
"My mother is Korean, and my father was a foreigner… but I grew up here."
The old man was silent for a moment, then suddenly said:
"May I ask… what are your Aev abilities?"
Joseph froze for a moment, then answered sincerely:
"I… believe it's a type related to the spirit.
My brother was the one who taught me how to access it… I learned it at an early age, but I never received any training or explanation."
Shock appeared on the old man's face, then he whispered as if in disbelief:
"Wait… you're an Aev user and you don't even know what you possess?"
Joseph shook his head:
"Yes… that's why I came after you. You're the only one who looked at me… and saw something I haven't seen myself.
If you know…
then tell me what you know."
The old man took a deep breath, ran his hand over his trembling chin, then said in a tone heavier than time itself:
"What I saw in you… doesn't resemble the Aev I know."
He leaned in closer to Joseph and said:
"Normal Aev energy… you feel it, sense it like heat or pressure.
But what's inside you… is like….
As if there's another entity breathing within you."
The old man sat down in front of Joseph, his eyes pale but burning with the glow of ancient knowledge.
He sighed, then spoke hesitantly:
"Listen, Joseph…
What I'm about to tell you may sound crazy… but you need to hear it."
He leaned in a little more, as if the words themselves should not be spoken aloud:
"There was a being… called Iblis.
In ancient times… he rebelled against the Creator.
As punishment, he was imprisoned…
imprisoned in a third dimension, known as the Prison of Resurrection."
Joseph's eyes widened, shock clearly etched on his face:
"What?!"
The old man nodded slowly:
**"Yes, just as you heard.
The world we live in is not as it seems.
It consists of three dimensions:
The first dimension… is our world, the world of humans.
The second dimension… is the home of transformed creatures, monsters, and kings…
from which most of the threats we face originate.
The third dimension… little is known about it.
But what is certain is that it holds the prison of Iblis after his rebellion.
And his power was taken away…"**
The old man paused for a moment, then spoke in an even more solemn tone:
"But the energy that was taken from him… did not disappear.
Instead, it leaked out.
A massive part of it went to the second dimension,
where a region known as the Forbidden Land was formed…"
A place with an extremely high concentration of Aev,
where staying alive is considered a miracle.
And a small portion seeped into our dimension… slowly."
Joseph murmured,
"Aev…? Where does that name come from?"
The old man looked at him for a long moment, then said:
"The name… does not belong to any world…
but to a story much older.
It was named 'Aev' after Eve—
Adam's wife, and the first to be tempted by Iblis.
She followed his whisper…
and thus, was considered the first to surrender to his power.
So the energy was named after her."
Joseph took a deep breath, his expression a mix of astonishment and curiosity, then asked:
"Is there more information about the Aev?
I mean… how it works, or its types?"
The old man smiled—that smile blending wisdom and weariness—and said:
"Yes, Joseph… there is much,
but let's start with the basics."
He adjusted his sitting position and continued:
**"Aev is divided into two types:
The Primary Aev – the core of the power.
The Secondary Aev – which serves as support, only appearing to assist the primary."**
Joseph leaned forward slightly:
"And how is the Aev formed?"
The old man replied:
"This is where the essence of everything lies…
The primary Aev does not appear by chance; it is tied to an event in the person's past.
This event could be good… or tragic.
But what matters… is that it changed the person's life.
The way the event occurred, its intensity, and the location of its physical or psychological impact…
determine where the Aev settles in the body…
and define the type of ability it will generate."**
He paused for a moment, as if rereading lines from an ancient book, then continued:
"Then there is what is known as the initial absorption process…
which is the moment when the person begins their journey with the Aev."
Joseph raised an eyebrow:
"What exactly is that?"
The old man said:
"It is meditation…
but not just any meditation.
When a person reaches a state of complete mental clarity,
something sudden happens…
a flash inside the brain.
It brings back the memory of the event that changed their life.
At that moment… the body starts absorbing the Aev energy,
and the first true connection is born between the person and their ability."
Joseph murmured,
"So… everything begins from the past…"
The old man nodded slowly:
"Exactly…
And that's why every Aev ability is unique.
Even if two people have the same type and the same branch… it's rare for them to be identical."
Then, in a deeper tone, he added:
"There are ten main types of Aev.
Some have many branches…
while others have few."
Joseph sighed slightly, then asked:
"And what are the types of Aev?
I mean… those ten you mentioned."
The old man looked at him, then interlaced his fingers in front of his chest and said:
"Aev has ten main types, and each type… has branches."
Then he began to explain:
The first type is—
Aev of brain
It has four branches, each focusing on a different part of the brain:
The frontal lobe
The parietal lobe
The temporal lobe
The occipital lobe
Secondly, Aev of bone
It has four branches:
The spine
The hands
The legs
The rib cage
Third,Aev of Muscle
It has two branches:
The muscles of the upper limbs
The muscles of the lower limbs
Fourth, Aev of blood
Has only one branch.
Fifth, Aev of lung
Has only one branch.
Sixth, Aev of face
It has five branches:
The eyes
The ears
The mouth
The nose
The hair
Seventh, Aev of heart
Has one branch, and those who possess this type generally have the same abilities.
Eighth, Aev of skin
Has only one branch.
Ninth, Aev of spirit
The rarest among the natural types.
Not very useful in combat, and has only one branch.
And finally,
Aev Mutation — the tenth type…
The type that cannot be classified.
Every user of it is considered an anomaly, and their ability does not resemble any other.
Its branches? Unknown… infinite… changing according to the person themselves.
The old man finished speaking, looking into Joseph's eyes, which showed confusion and mental strain.
"All of this…?"
Joseph whispered, running his hand over his head.
The old man gave a bitter smile and said,
"Yes."
Joseph was silent for a moment, then looked at the old man and asked in a calm but slightly worried voice,
"Why did you call me a monster this morning?"
The old man stared at him for a long time, then said,
"Do you understand the nature of your power, Joseph?"
Joseph shook his head slightly, then replied,
"When I became an Aev user…
my brother told me that if I closed my eyes and meditated, I would feel the Aev inside me."
He paused for a moment, then continued:
"I did what he told me…
and what I saw… was strange.
I saw a small white energy…
surrounded by deep darkness."
"I told my brother, and he said I have Spirit Aev."**
The old man was silent for a moment. His eyes scanned Joseph's face as if trying to probe hidden layers within him.
"What I see is not Spirit Aev, Joseph…
or at least… it's no longer that."
The old man slowly raised his head:
"What's inside you now… is not ordinary Aev.
Your energy… closely resembles the power of the kings in the second dimension.
And that alone… is enough reason for me to see you as a monster, even if just for a moment."
Joseph's eyes widened, but inside him… thoughts swirled more than his expression showed.
"What is this old man saying…?"
he muttered to himself, hiding any sign of confusion.
Suddenly, he felt he had spent too much time here and needed to leave… to think alone.
He stood up and said gently,
"Thank you… for everything."
The old man smiled:
"Don't thank me… but be careful.
What's inside you… might attract more than you realize."
Joseph nodded, then quietly left the apartment, leaving behind a room filled with the scent of old wood… and heavy words that still echoed in his ears.