The Second Coming of Gluttony - Chapter 82

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 82. The Temperature Gap Between Hope and Reality (2)

In his haste, he nearly missed it. The darkness already made visibility poor, and the man’s dark complexion rendered him nearly invisible.
As Seol Jihoo drew closer, the figure came into sharp focus. A man hung suspended in mid-air, head bowed. The Mutant Orc had frozen mid-motion, as if caught in the act of dragging him down.
“Hugo!”
Seol Jihoo cried out, his voice raised, and found himself inadvertently touching Hugo.
“Uhhh….”
The moment his body swayed, Hugo’s head snapped back and he let out a sound. No—the hoarse, rasping noise was less a scream than a groan of agony.
Only then did Seol Jihoo notice the anchor-like hook embedded deep in Hugo’s back.
“What—what is this? What’s happening?”
Yaser Radi seemed to have spotted Hugo as well. Suspended so high overhead, they couldn’t reach him without risk. Seol Jihoo’s jaw clenched as he glanced down at Ludum, wisps of smoke curling from its diminished form. It was already visibly smaller, but if only for a moment…
‘Lower Hugo as gently as possible.’
At once, four Mutant Orcs stirred to life. One vanished into the darkness as a mechanical clicking and grinding echoed through the air—the sound of a winch being turned. The hook descended slowly. Two of the creatures gripped Hugo’s sides, while the third carefully withdrew the anchor downward.
“Nnnngh….”
“Hugo!”
The moment control released, Seol Jihoo caught Hugo as he collapsed. Hugo’s eyes fluttered open, and despite his evident pain, a faint glimmer of consciousness returned to his gaze.
“Uhhh… uhhh-uhhh….”
Hugo’s mouth opened as if to speak, but only a thin, whistling sound emerged. Clearly exhausted, Seol Jihoo drew him close and whispered into his ear.
“It’s all right. We came to rescue you. It’s all right.”
Whether Hugo heard the words, Seol Jihoo couldn’t say. The man’s eyes remained unfocused, but the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His eyelids closed, and his body went limp.
“Hugo?”
“Listen.”
Yaser Radi spoke up.
“We’re already past five minutes. I understand how you feel, but we need to move. He’ll need treatment when we get back.”
“Right.”
The words came out mechanically, but Seol Jihoo’s voice betrayed his anxiety. Still, Yaser Radi wasn’t wrong. He helped Hugo to his feet and began supporting him.
Before turning to leave, Seol Jihoo paused and glanced back.
‘Why is Hugo the only one here?’
The question nagged at him, but he didn’t let it slow him down. The important thing was that they’d found Hugo. And he was breathing, however faintly. Despite everything, his robust constitution had kept him alive. For that small mercy, Seol Jihoo felt a gratitude that grounded him in reality.
The two made their way back to the Central Area with Hugo between them. But the team that had gone left hadn’t yet returned. Even after waiting a minute, there was no sign of them. As time stretched on, Yaser Radi’s restlessness became impossible to conceal.
“Damn it! Why are they taking so long?”
“Do you think something’s gone wrong?”
“For once, couldn’t you think positively? You’ve done nothing but speak gloom since we got here.”
“Hmm….”
Seol Jihoo carefully lowered Hugo to the ground.
“I’ll go check.”
“What?”
“We can’t just stand here waiting forever. Let me look for them.”
Yaser Radi looked thoroughly unconvinced. Something felt off. In the movies, this was always the moment when one of two characters died—a death flag, as they called it. Yet staying put felt equally wrong.
“Hell. Come back quick.”
Seol Jihoo took off at a run. The Left Corridor, like the right, was lined with cells. As he sprinted through, he caught glimpses of the cages—empty, every single one.
In the distance, three figures gradually came into view. As he drew closer, a biting chill crept across his skin.
Whatever had happened, the atmosphere was decidedly grim. Kazuki looked pale and drained, Chohong bore a somber expression, and Rahin Maeri was crouched on her heels,
“Heave—!”
vomiting, tears streaming down her face.
At the sound of footsteps, Kazuki looked up.
“You… what are you doing here?”
“You didn’t come back, so I came to find you.”
Kazuki’s face flickered with realization. He immediately grabbed Rahin by the armpit as she heaved again, forcing her to her feet.
“What happened? What’s going on?”
“We’ve called off the search.”
“Called it off?”
Only then did Seol Jihoo notice the stone door at the far end of the Left Corridor, slightly ajar. White vapor seeped through the narrow gap in wisps and tendrils. He’d felt the cold creeping in for a while now—a glacial breath bleeding from within.
“There’s no point searching further. Even if we found someone, finding them would be meaningless.”
The voice was calm and measured. A dreadful sensation crept up his spine. Whether it came from the cold air seeping through or from Header’s words, Seol Jihoo couldn’t tell.
“What do you—”
He moved toward the stone door to open it.
Bang.
Chohong shut the door behind her with a sharp bang.
“Don’t look.”
She spoke in a slightly hoarse voice, yet with unmistakable force. Seol Jihoo flinched. Chohong’s eyes held that eerie, unsettling glint—or perhaps it was the look of someone fighting desperately to hold back tears, clenching the muscles around her eyes.
“Chohong?”
“I’ll get trauma. Don’t look. Not ever.”
Chohong planted herself firmly in front of the door. Kazuki spoke up.
“What about the right corridor?”
Seol Jihoo, bewildered by the unexpected question, finally gathered his wits.
“I found him.”
“Found him?”
“I found Hugo. He’s still alive.”
Chohong’s head snapped up. Without another word, she bolted down the corridor like a shot. Kazuki watched her disappearing figure with concern, then turned his gaze to Rahin Maeri.
“Can you go on? Are you up for it?”
“Yes, yes. I’m sorry. I was trying to hold it together.”
She managed little more than a stammered reply.
“Good. Let’s move. Oh, and tell me as we go—did you see anyone else? What was the state of the surroundings?”
Seol Jihoo had more than a few unanswered questions anyway, so he explained in detail as they walked.
“An infection, then.”
Kazuki nodded, as if confirming something he’d suspected. When Seol Jihoo stared at him pointedly, he opened his mouth.
“Did you know parasitic infection has a success rate?”
This was news to him.
“A parasite on its own isn’t much—it’s larval, incredibly fragile. Sure, if the target’s already a corpse, it’s a hundred percent success. But if they’re alive? That’s a different story.”
Kazuki continued.
“The stronger the target’s body, the harder the infection takes. That’s why they had him hooked on the anchor—to drain his strength.”
Seol Jihoo’s chest tightened. The only person hanging from the anchor had been Hugo. Which meant the others…
“Hugo just happened to pump every ounce into raw strength and stamina. Stupidly enough, it saved his life.”
Kazuki’s tone was bitter. Seol Jihoo ventured carefully.
“Then what about the others?”
“…Hard to say. At minimum, they shouldn’t be dead. To use them for the Mass Production Plan, they’d need to be infected while alive.”
Corpses could be turned into Mutant Orcs, but the numbers would plateau. However, if infection preserved their reproductive capacity intact, the numbers could multiply indefinitely. No matter how many times he thought it through, the plan turned his stomach.
“Hugo’s lucky. If anyone else is already infected… then there’s nothing we can do. Killing them would be mercy.”
“Once someone’s infected with a parasite, they can’t be saved at all?”
“Not impossible, exactly. Odds depend on the degree of infection and which body part. But nine times out of ten, they’re gone. That’s why they incinerate the bodies.”
As he spoke, Kazuki seemed to be gauging Seol Jihoo’s reaction subtly. Inside, Seol Jihoo felt uneasy, but he kept it hidden.
A few minutes later, the three of them reached the Central Area. The moment Rahin Maeri saw Hugo, she chanted the Holy Incantation.
“Cure Massive Wounds.”
As white light wrapped around his body, Hugo’s condition visibly improved.
“Good. That’s one confirmed.”
Kazuki checked Ludum, now worn down to about one-fifth, then fixed his eyes on Chohong, whose face had gone ashen. Then he glanced at Seol Jihoo, who looked relatively unscathed, and opened his mouth.
“Chohong. Take Hugo back to the camp.”
“What?”
“Don’t ask. Didn’t we agree—each rescue run, one person would escort the rescued back?”
The reasons were manifold, but the intent was simple: secure anyone they’d rescued. Anything could happen mid-operation. Also, the fewer people they had to monitor, the better Ludum’s reserves would hold.
“I get it! But why me?”
“You’re a liability in the field.”
Kazuki cut her off with a cold edge to his voice.
“And he’s your teammate. You don’t know the other rescue targets the way your teammates do.”
‘What about Dylan?’
Seol Jihoo tilted his head, but then understood. Carpe Diem had only two members.
“I’m not telling you to sit idle when you get back. You know how crucial the first person to return is, don’t you?”
It was true. Leaving Ian alone wasn’t ideal, and someone needed to reestablish communication, set traps for emergency exits, prepare a safe retreat route—all that fell on the first one back.
“This is an order from me as Header. The more time you waste, the more you burden the rest of us. Understand?”
Faced with that tone, Chohong couldn’t argue further. She grimaced, but ultimately steadied Hugo on his feet and turned to go. Seol Jihoo spoke up.
“Get back safely.”
Chohong’s face was shadowed, but she said nothing in return.
“…You too. If you can, just come back.”
With only that parting word, she guided Hugo forward and away. Kazuki pointed ahead.
“We search forward once more. If anyone’s still missing, we head down to Basement Level 2.”
The forward corridor, unlike the two previous passages, showed no signs of cells. Instead, the murky light seemed to grow progressively sharper ahead.
When the corridor finally ended, Kazuki pressed his body flush against the wall.
“The one moving—I can’t see it…?”
He trailed off abruptly. Seol Jihoo, pressed close behind him, felt the archer’s shoulder shudder.
The next moment, a sharp intake of breath sounded from behind them.
When he turned, Yaser Radi was already running. Kazuki reached out, bit his lower lip, and followed.
The new space resembled a vast laboratory. Though rows and columns had fallen into disarray, wooden tables were scattered everywhere, and equipment-like objects lined the walls.
Seol Jihoo was watching the Mutant Orcs standing motionless, as if frozen mid-task, when a sudden wail made him turn. Yaser Radi was bent forward, tears streaming down his face.
“Brother! How did this happen! We suffered so much, and now, just when…!”
Seol Jihoo saw the overturned table and his mouth fell open. A human lay there.
…No. He wasn’t sure if “human” was the right word. The face, torso, and hips were human. But both arms and both legs were gone, replaced instead by a tangle of tentacles writhing and coiling. It looked as if someone had grafted squid legs onto a human body.
‘What on earth…?’
His gaze caught on a cluster of Mutant Orcs. Beyond them, a table came into view. He moved toward it as if in a trance, and the reek of blood washed over him.
His pupils trembled and his hands shook. Disbelief spread across his face in an instant.
“Dylan!”
Seol Jihoo shoved through the Mutant Orcs and rushed forward. With each step closer, denial became impossible. He lay there just like the one they’d seen before. With only his torso remaining.
“Dylan, Dylan….”
His trembling hand reached out, and he suddenly felt how wet the table was. His fingertips went numb, sensation fading. On one side of the table sat a bucket filled with clear liquid.
“Anesthetic. Quite potent….”
A quiet voice. Kazuki had appeared nearby, his eyes narrowed.
“Dylan, Dylan….”
Dylan lay with his eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling. Like a corpse.
Chaos erupted in his mind. He didn’t know what to do. When his eyes met Rahin Maeri’s pitying gaze, Seol Jihoo’s eyes went wide.
“Holy Incantation! Heal him now—!”
Just as Kazuki was about to say something, she stepped forward with a cross and silenced him.
“We can’t be sure.”
“Sure of what?”
“I only see two of them here. And Dylan isn’t as far gone as Ali. The other three might have information about their locations.”
Kazuki clearly disliked it, but he didn’t object. He clicked his tongue and walked toward Yaser Radi, who was still weeping.
“Wait, just wait. His arms and legs, his limbs….”
Seol Jihoo looked frantically around for the missing limbs. But the priest said nothing and chanted instead.
“Just a moment!”
White light enveloped Dylan’s body. His frame convulsed. His vacant eyes flickered. Seol Jihoo rushed over and blocked the ceiling from his view, and Dylan’s mouth opened.
“…Seol?”
“Dylan!”
“Oh… my gosh….”
Dylan laughed weakly, shaking his head.
“Am I… dreaming?”
“No. We came to rescue you. We came to rescue you.”
Seol Jihoo’s voice trembled. Dylan was always so steady and composed. The sight of him like this nearly brought tears to his eyes.
“What about Hugo?”
Dylan seemed fully conscious now.
“We rescued him. Chohong brought him back.”
“Good.”
Dylan smiled slowly. His eyes wandered, as if taking in his surroundings, before fixing on the priest.
“Is that Rahin Maeri? Did you come to rescue me?”
“I need to ask you something.”
She spoke.
“I know this is confusing, but listen. Agnes and Ian made it back safely. We rescued Hugo. As for you and Ibrahim Ali… well, um.”
“The whereabouts of the other three—I don’t know.”
Dylan lived up to his name, catching exactly what she meant and answering directly.
“…Right, understood. Then for now….”
She couldn’t finish the sentence. Dylan groaned softly.
“Could you give me a minute?”
“Sorry. We’ve got a thirty-minute time limit, and we’re already close to halfway through. We need to find the others too, and when you factor in the journey back, we’re cutting it very close.”
“Alright. I don’t know the situation, but if that’s what you’re saying, then so be it.”
Seol Jihoo stared blankly between the two of them. What were they talking about? They could just take him back.
“Dylan. You worked hard. Thank you for staying alive. Now.”
The moment he reached out his hand, Rahin Maeri grabbed Dylan’s arm and shook her head quietly.
“Why, why? He’s alive!”
“I know.”
“Then!”
“It’s too late.”
She pointed at Dylan. From the severed edge, dozens of worm-like larvae writhed and crawled out.
“A thing like this…!”
He tried to pull out the larvae, but the priest refused to let go, gripping with all his might.
“Don’t touch it. It might get complicated.”
“Thirty seconds.”
Just as Seol Jihoo was about to shout, Dylan’s voice cut through.
“Just give me thirty seconds. I can make him understand.”
……
“Listen to him. This friend’s got a soft heart about things like this. But he’s capable and sharp—don’t hate him for it.”
“…I see.”
Rahin Maeri sighed.
“We wouldn’t have made it this far without him.”
“Oh, really?”
Dylan’s interest flickered briefly to life. But only for a moment. Lying flat, he looked up at the young man who stood uncertainly.
“Seol. Do you have any water? My throat’s parched.”
He promptly produced a container of drinking water. The moment it touched Dylan’s lips, he drank eagerly, gulping it down. An exclamation of satisfaction escaped him.
“Thank you. When I was hanging from that hook, even a sip of water felt precious.”
“Don’t worry. Once we get back, you can drink all you want.”
Dylan laughed silently.
“Um… Seol.”
He continued.
“First, thank you.”
“Dylan. Since you understand, let’s hurry.”
“Honestly, I held out some hope. When you’re in despair, all sorts of thoughts come crawling in. I kept wondering if maybe you’d come to rescue me.”
“I’m sorry I was late. But more than that—”
“Death never really scared me. But when I couldn’t die and couldn’t live either, I got afraid too.”
Seol Jihoo fell silent. Couldn’t die and couldn’t live?
“I was almost giving up. But now that you’ve come like this… I can’t tell you how grateful I am. Somehow I just knew you’d really come. Haha.”
Two figures approached slowly. Dylan’s eyes darted sideways for an instant before fixing his gaze upward again.
“So…”
“Dylan.”
“Will you… kill me now?”
“What… what did you just say?”
A burning smell suddenly assaulted his nostrils. Ibrahim Ali, severed at the neck, was charring black.
“Why… why are you killing—”
Seol Jihoo stammered. Dylan smiled faintly.
“Kazuki.”
“It’s been a long time, senior.”
Kazuki bowed deeply and respectfully.
“So you’re the leader of the rescue team?”
“Yes.”
“Good. With a guide of your caliber, you’ll do well.”
“You’re too kind.”
“Never mind flattery. Finish up here and move out. I heard you’re on a time limit?”
Kazuki’s expression grew complicated.
“Understood. Thank you for your understanding.”
He gripped the longsword’s hilt firmly.
“Dylan!”
At that moment, a heavy weight pressed down on Seol Jihoo’s shoulders. Yaser Radi and the priest clung to him, holding him back.
“Don’t kill him!”
He thrashed violently, flailing his arms and kicking. Soon he was forced down to a crouch, but he didn’t stop talking.
“You… you can’t kill him!”
“No. He has to die.”
“Wait… wait. I don’t fully understand.”
“There’s no time to explain. And you already know. You’ve noticed, you’re just refusing to see it.”
Kazuki spoke coldly. Seol Jihoo rambled incoherently.
“Just listen to me for a second. I’m saying don’t kill him right now. If there’s a higher form, we could suspect it, couldn’t we?”
“Both of them aren’t complete yet.”
Kazuki continued.
“Look at reality. When you can kill, killing is the merciful path for both of them.”
“But—”
“Enough….”
Then someone’s ragged breathing became audible. Hot liquid struck his cheek, and he froze.
“I understand your feelings… I do… but there are others we need to save….”
Yaser Radi was weeping. His face contorted like a tragic mask, tears streaming freely down his cheeks.
Dylan opened his mouth with a composed expression.
“Kazuki. Do it. Seol can’t kill me. That’s the kind of person he is. Act like a true Header, at least.”
At those words, Kazuki raised the longsword.
“Three years ago, I was truly grateful.”
“Don’t mention it. Just call it even—this will square us.”
“If it’s you, you’ll overcome any penalty.”
“Better than going home as a parasite’s puppet.”
Dylan chuckled softly.
“Seol. Thank you for coming. For saving us. Really.”
He spoke with an almost unburdened face,
“Give my regards to them both.”
Then he smiled. And in that same moment, the longsword swung.
“Dylan!”
The world began to drift slowly away.
[Even if my tea tasted bad, forgive me. I’ve been practicing lately, but my skills aren’t improving.]
Unbelievable.
[Mm. I understand your point, but I agreed with Seol’s reasoning—the one I overheard.]
A lie.
[Don’t worry. Start whenever you’re ready. I can keep up with you.]
So soon.
[Listen. I’m the leader of Carpe Diem, but controlling these two fools alone would be hard. So here’s the thing—you wouldn’t consider helping out, would you?]
At the very least, a little more conversation.
[Heh. Well, it wouldn’t be bad to give it a try. It’s a simple request, but you learn a lot from doing things yourself. I did.]
The tears he’d been holding back came flooding out.
“Aaaaahhh!”
Seol Jihoo lurched to his feet and summoned an ice spear. He moved to hurl it at the mutant orc, but Kazuki stopped him. The spear shattered with a sharp crack as it fell.
A moment of silence followed.
“…Don’t look at me like that.”
Kazuki, having lowered the longsword, wore a darkened expression himself.
“Didn’t I tell you? If it were early-stage infection, perhaps. But Dylan was mid-stage, and Ali was terminal. His body was already half consumed. Even if Rusheria’s daughter came, she couldn’t save him.”
Seol Jihoo had no answer. Tears streamed down his face as choked sobs robbed him of speech.
He’d known. He’d even prepared for the worst.
But saving Hugo had kindled a fragile hope. He’d wanted them merely to live. This ending had never entered his mind. It felt like drowning in a nightmare.
“Leaving him like that is crueler than killing. At least this way, we can return to Earth….”
Kazuki spoke quietly and set fire to the corpse. As Dylan slowly turned to ash, Seol Jihoo buried his face against the ground. A sound like a wounded animal’s cry echoed through the chamber.
Kazuki, watching with hollow eyes, let his shoulders sag.
“Yaser Radi. Take Seol and go back.”
This team had been assembled with a single purpose: rescue. The moment they’d lost that target, the void left behind was immeasurable. It was precisely this understanding that prompted the order. Forcing him onward would only be a hindrance.
“…Understood. I’m sorry.”
Yaser Radi moved to support the young man. But Seol Jihoo wouldn’t budge.
“Seol. We don’t have time for this. Let’s go find Ludum.”
“…Coming.”
“What?”
“I’m… coming with you.”
Seol Jihoo, his voice seething with emotion, staggered to his feet.
Dylan was dead. But his feelings hadn’t settled. The tears hadn’t stopped, and he hadn’t accepted the reality.
Yet people remained who needed saving. That purpose moved his limbs forward.
“You can’t. In your state, you’re a liability. I don’t know the princess’s face either. Go back—don’t worry about it.”
“I know that.”
“Listen.”
“Three of them are left. That means we need at least three of us.”
It wasn’t wrong. Kazuki, staring hard, pressed his fingers to his brow.
“What about Yaser Radi?”
“I’m sorry. I… I don’t have the confidence anymore.”
“Fine. You head back. The three of us will go down.”
The man nodded weakly and turned away.
“…Let’s go.”
A moment later.
One figure vanished through the entrance they’d come from, while the other three disappeared down the staircase that led to Basement Level 2.
‘Princess.’
As Seol Jihoo descended the stairs, his eyes burned with a cold, fierce light.

(To be continued in the next installment)

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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