Crack. A sharp sound of glass splintering cut the air, followed by an explosion so loud it made the ears ring.
The force of the blast sent the poison stored in the mannequin bursting outward in every direction.
The sickly green liquid, thick with a noxious aura, expanded through the sky. Packed into the tall mannequin’s body, there was far more than expected.
Everyone witnessed it—poison spreading across the air. And directly below it, alone in the sky, was Cha Seohu.
From his tightly clasped hands, a pure white light radiated, flowing endlessly through his body and beyond.
As the poison began to fall, it made contact with the bright light.
“Urgh...!”
Cha Seohu let out a groan of pain.
A piercing agony stabbed through his heart like a cold awl, digging in cruelly. The blood drained further from his already pale face, cold sweat beading along his skin.
The more the poison touched the holy light, the more the pain resonated—twisting his heart like a vice.
He had never experienced this before. No matter how many poisons he had purified, none had ever caused him pain.
What the hell was this poison inside that mannequin?
Cha Seohu clenched harder, panting, but did not stop channeling his holy power.
He didn’t need to see the results to know what would happen if this poison wasn’t purified. Now that he was doing it himself, it was unmistakable.
Once it touched the ground, it was irreversible. This wasn't on the level of demon blood or any other known toxin.
'I remember.'
For the first time in a very long while, Cha Seohu recalled a memory from before regression.
One month before the world ended. The period when rifts opened almost daily, and demonic monsters crawled out endlessly.
The moment the U.S.—barely holding on—collapsed completely, it was because of the spread of a certain toxic miasma that began swallowing the land.
Several Supporters tried to purify it, only to cough up blood and die one after another.
Poison. That alone had brought down the mighty United States so easily and helplessly.
Now, Cha Seohu realized the green liquid spreading above his head was the same poison that had destroyed the U.S. in the previous timeline.
'If that crap hits the ground...'
Everyone nearby would melt away without leaving a trace, and the land it touched would be uninhabitable.
So it had to be purified. No matter what.
A surge of hot, metallic bile rose in his throat. He bit his lip and swallowed the clot of blood.
His clasped hands trembled violently. His instincts screamed to let go—to stop this purification now.
But Cha Seohu endured, pouring holy energy through the tearing pain in his chest.
The sticky, poisonous fluid passed through the light and fell as clear water. Shwaaa— it was like a sudden downpour.
A brief, isolated shower fell only at the center of the hotel entrance. Clean water drenched the ground.
“Haah, hngh...”
Cha Seohu looked up with a ragged breath. Forcing his heavy eyelids open, he glanced overhead.
The poison, once spread so wide, was gone. Only a dark, stormy sky remained.
“Ah...”
Thank God.
The poison had been completely purified, and the excruciating pain was over. The realization brought a deep, relieved sigh.
His clenched hands dropped limply at last. At that moment, a series of system messages flashed before him.
[Warning! The skill 'Silverlight’s Blessing (S-rank)' will deactivate shortly.]
[Silverlight’s Blessing (S-rank) deactivating in 3...]
[Silverlight’s Blessing (S-rank) deactivating in 2...]
[Silverlight’s Blessing (S-rank) deactivating in 1...]
[Item 'Wings of Skystride' has expired.]
Barely clinging to consciousness, Cha Seohu closed his eyes before he could finish reading the notifications.
His body tilted to one side, then began to plummet helplessly from the sky.
[Hidden Skill: Silverlight’s Blessing (S-rank) - DEACTIVATED]
Crackle!
As sparks scattered, his flowing blond hair darkened to black again.
“No!”
Kwon Taehyuk, who had been watching anxiously, saw the small body fall and sprinted toward it.
The other S-ranks, who hadn’t taken their eyes off Seohu even for a second, all reacted the same.
Chains and golden veils stacked upon each other.
They threw everything they had at catching Cha Seohu gently, to break his fall from such a high altitude.
But before they could reach him—a dark shadow engulfed him midair.
“...!”
Kwon Taehyuk, racing toward where Cha Seohu was about to fall, widened his eyes.
The large wings on his back dissolved into smoke and wrapped around Seohu’s body. From within the dark shimmer, Cha Sahyeon emerged, his arms around his unconscious brother’s waist.
The translucent wings above his fluttering white robe drooped weakly.
His pale skin and exhausted, sleeping face radiated fatigue.
Cha Sahyeon silently stared down at the limp Cha Seohu.
Then he looked up.
“....”
Tiny machines hovered in the sky where the rift had been, now fully closed and with the dark clouds beginning to clear.
Drones, dispatched by the government and the press as soon as they realized the rift had vanished. And beyond them—helicopters, too.
Annoying. Everything was irritating.
Hunters below, the drones, the helicopters—all of it centered on Cha Seohu.
Cha Sahyeon’s green eyes flickered briefly as he scanned the scene with a blank expression.
That single flicker was enough to make even the faraway S-ranks flinch.
They knew what decision he had made, even without hearing it.
Because they had once held the same desire.
“Wait!”
Ryu Sunghyun called out desperately, but Cha Sahyeon didn’t listen.
The black shadow whipped into a fierce vortex, swallowing Cha Sahyeon and the Cha Seohu in his arms whole.
“Wait—!”
The shadow formed into a perfect sphere—like a black egg—then vanished without a trace.
The sky where the brothers disappeared.
At last, the clouds parted, and radiant morning sunlight declared the war over.
The purified water left behind by Cha Seohu sparkled across the broken road.
“Haaah... haah...”
A man staggered into a narrow alley, leaning against the wall with trembling arms.
'My head...'
J clutched his temples, face twisted in a grimace.
A horrific migraine. The moment he closed his eyes, strange memories swirled in his mind.
[Today... huh? How was it?]
[Of course! Whose little brother do you think I am—?]
[...Hyun is sleeping. Dad, can you turn the radio dow—]
The voices he heard tore through his sanity.
'Stop. Just stop.'
The pain worsened, and J couldn’t take it. He collapsed to the ground. Cold sweat dripped onto the pavement.
Why were these things resurfacing? Why now, all of a sudden...?
[Jaehyun!]
“Urgh...”
The woman he ran into behind the clocktower.
For some reason, he hadn’t been able to look away from her. He’d almost turned around without meaning to...
“...”
J squeezed his eyes shut. Another droplet—he thought it was sweat—fell hard onto the ground.
'Jaehyun.'
That’s all he had heard—but strangely, J knew exactly what surname went with that name.
'Yoon Jaehyun.'
Yeah. That was the name.
And the one who bore it...
“Ah.”
A voice, smooth and tinged with amusement, broke the silence.
J’s eyes flew open—and he saw someone standing at the end of the alley.
His murky green eyes trembled in fear.
“You look like you're in terrible pain.”
“Ah... aah...”
J recognized him immediately. The color drained from his face.
A blindingly white alb, embroidered ~Nоvеlight~ with gold. A mozzetta over his shoulders, richly detailed with sacred symbols.
As the man leaned closer to J’s slumped figure, the sash adorned with intricate patterns swayed.
“Unwanted memories always come with pain.”
“C-Cult Leader... I...”
“It’s alright.”
The Cult Leader cut him off with a gentle smile.
“You don’t need to say it. I already know everything.”
In J’s wide eyes, a snake-like shadow twisted and shimmered. His nearly gray hair began to darken—turning pitch-black.
And then—
A scream tore through the dim alley.
The sound of nails raking the ground. Begging. Blood. The reek of death filled the space.
And through it all, a soft, tuneful hum drifted.
“Cult Leader.”
Much later, the Cult Leader casually walked out of the alley. The waiting cultists greeted him.
One of them stepped forward and opened a box. Inside was the mannequin’s head.
It had the grotesque realism of a severed human head. But the Cult Leader calmly removed his bloodstained gloves and replaced them with a fresh pair as he asked:
“The data?”
“Preserved without damage.”
“Good.”
He tapped the mannequin’s forehead and smiled.
“I’m looking forward to it.”
To see what it’ll show me.
After a two-month break, Part 4 will begin serialization on September 1st. Thank you.

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