Fallen Lightbringers’ Return - Chapter 53: The First Trumpet

Kim Heeson snuck past the last few students. Truthfully speaking, it wasn’t that hard, as no one paid any attention to passerbys. No, they almost seemed as if they were escaping, a slight panic in their eyes. However, why would that be so?

He arrived at the warehouse Jyejin had linked him to. Nobody was guarding it. For a short moment, he even thought that maybe this was the wrong place, was it not for Kim Jyejin having shown him a picture.

The warehouse was wide, with the walls made out of red bricks. The windows—of which there weren’t many—had been bolted shut. At the terrace, there was a long chimney, leading all the way up, dispensing white smoke.

Heeson stepped forward, rubbing his head. He wondered, “Am I the first to arrive?” And as if to prove him wrong, a loud explosion rang out, shaking even the ground, and scratching at his ears. “Seriously? Don’t tell me that was Dojin?” For some reason, if it was him, he could imagine it.

He was thinking of entering the warehouse, but that big noise made him waver. In the first place, he wasn’t here to save Ah Yeurong. He had nothing to do with that lady. And if Lee Dojin could not manage it, he wouldn’t either. No, he had only come for one thing—

“The fuck was the explosion?”

Il Chunghoo came from across the corner. He had a tear under his eye and yawned as if sleepy. The boy scratched his neck. If he had hair, it would have been disheveled.

Kim Heesons eyes widened. He smiled roughly. “Yes, the only reason I’ve come here was to fuck this dude up.”

Il Chunghoo looked at Heeson. He tilted his head. ” Sorry, there are so many people here, I can’t keep track of everyone. Do I know you?”

“No,” he replied, walking towards him. “I suppose you don’t.” Arriving in front of Chunghoo, he placed his hand on his shoulder. Heeson was a head taller, but Chunghoo had a lot more muscles. He smiled but was full of bad intentions.

“I’ve taken a quick nap, and suddenly everyone’s gone,” Chunghoo said, none the wiser. His brows furrowed. “I feel like I am forgetting something.”

Heeson clenched his fist. “Well, maybe this will rock your memory.” He took a step back, charging as much power as he could, then threw it back out hitting Chunghoos face squarely.

Il Chunghoos head flung back, his neck elongating, but he remained at the same spot. “I can’t say it did.” He stared at Heeson, wiping the fresh blood off his lips.

Heeson took another step back. He kicked out, aiming at Chunghoos head. The boy managed to block out, but another kick quickly hit his head again.

Il Chunghoo fell a few steps back. He clicked his tongue. Not both sides of his lips were bruised. “Wait, I recall now. You’re that one punk hanging around that loser group. There was this one guy who you all looked up to right? What was he called again? That big one? Park Wendy or something?” He laughed. “It’s hard to remember unimportant people.”

Anger flushed his face, turning it red. “You fight with your mouth or something?”

“I thought you were just giving me a love tap.” He cracked his neck. “And you punch like a little bitch.” He too clenched his fist and punched out. A left straight. It came incredibly fast, but as Heeson went to block it, he felt his arms quiver.

Chunghoo lifted his leg, going for a kick, but he stopped midway. While still in the air, he hooked his foot into Heesons defense, pulling it down, revealing his face. Right after, he sent a real ick, with his heel hitting the boy’s face.

Kim Heeson faltered, stepping back. He held his nose, which was currently bleeding. “You piece of sh—” His words were cut off, by another kick landing on his face.

Il Chunghoo landed on the ground, lightly bouncing as a boxer would. He didn’t even have his guard up. “See. You are weak.”

Heeson spat a mouth full of blood. “I’d rather be weak but free, unlike you, a barking dog for someone higher.”

Il Chunghoo stopped moving. “What could you possibly know about freedom?” He punched Kim Heeson again, who fell back. “That’s what I hated about your group. Always yammering about being free. What is there to be free about?” He punched again. Heesons arms dropped down. “There’s no such thing as freedom in this crazy world. Not 2000 years back, not now. The first time some stupid fish decided to leave the ocean and grow legs, we were all doomed to suffer.” The punches kept raining down. Blood splattered everywhere. “Free from pain? You know nothing about pain. Do you know how it feels, everyday, waking up and not remembering what you did yesterday? How it feels to mix up past and present? Forgetting who you hold dear? Having the feeling as if you forgot something, every single damn second?” Il Chunghoo clenched his fist, the veins on his arm showing, and he rammed the knuckles into Kim Heesons face. “There’s no freedom from that!” He hit him once more. “All you can do is escape.”

Kim Heeson laid on the ground, his face all messed up. The vision on his left eye was blurry. He opened his blood-filled mouth. “…You’re wrong.”

Il Chunghoo kicked his stomach. “I’m not.” He squatted down. “Call me dog all you want. But Do Jiwoon, he’s got it figured out. In this world, you gotta follow the leaders. Unlike you, he’s the real deal. I know, because I will never forget his name.” A slight shudder ran through him. “That man’s invincible. Nothing can hurt him. He’s a monster.”

Heeson smiled. “A real catch you have there.” He pressed himself up. Chunghoo didn’t stop him, since he was half-dead anyway. “I really do despise you… I hate…” he thought about his sister, “People chasing fruitless dreams.” He coughed, looking at Chunghoo. “But I hate people like you even more. You, who has no dreams.”

Though he had to agree on one thing. If there was a leader, he supposed someone came to his mind. Even though, the only thing he learned was how to form a fist from him.

‘You’re closing your fist wrong. You have to keep your knuckles even, or you’ll break them. See, right here. Did they not teach you that at the karate place.’

He grinned, recalling Lee Dojin’s words. “Truth be told, I never did karate.” With his last power, as Chunghoo had his guard down, he threw his fist out. However, this time, with purpose.

Il Chunghoo lifted his hands in a carefree manner. But as they collided, his expression turned grave. He grit his teeth and focused all his strength in his forearms, yet could not hold him back. His fingers broke, letting through Heesons fist, and it landed square on Chunghoos chin.

“You motherfu—” He lost his balance. Another fist landed on his nose. It broke. One more on his left rib. It broke. And at last, Heeson kicked his head, rattling that guys’ brain. Sudden vertigo hit him, and he fell to the ground, face first.

Heeson did not fare better. His knees gave out, and he slumped down. Still, between those two, it was obvious who won. He gasped for breath.

Il Chunghoo laid on his stomach. He couldn’t move a single finger. “Your name. What was it?”

“Kim Heeson.”

“I’ll remember it,” he said, clicking his tongue. “That was a good punch.”

“Fuck off,” Heeson said, looking at the warehouse. Another explosion rang out. He sighed. If it was Dojin, then he’d manage, right?”

Now was a battle between two monsters.

…

Ah Yeurong awoke from her stupor. Do Jiwoon had planned for her to sleep the day through, and not even the various abilities of him and Dojin could let her rise. Yet, there was something now that yanked her out of the deep slumber.

She turned her head. There was a boy with a cast. He shook unimaginably as if seeing the greatest terror of his life. Moving her head more, she saw Tae Sukjin (or Do Jiwoon), draped in smog. And there was one more person, standing in a weird pose.

Her thoughts were hazy. She thought it was a dream. But then, why did she feel so hot?

Oh Sanbaeks irises shook. A cut appeared on his lip, as it had turned flaky. He lifted his jittering arm. The sweat that was on his body had disappeared, evaporated. His throat turned dry, and he realized, the water within the whole warehouse was disappearing. “This is the end of the world,” he muttered, his head low and genuflecting.

The cause, of course, was Lee Dojin. He stood incredibly still, as if unfazed. But the steam emitting from him betrayed him.

“Another Affinity?” Do Jiwoon asked, astonished. He had stopped charging. “How is that possible?”

“No, this is simply martial arts,” he explained. “Something all humans can achieve.”

“Why would you lie so brazenly?” Even just standing there, he felt as if he was on fire. That’s not humanly possible.

“Well, it is an ability bestowed by Him. It would be weird if anyone could use it.”

“Fine, I don’t need any answer.” He became fully serious. No more smiles. He knew instinctively. This was a threat to his very existence. “Purgatory: Soul Decay.”

Dojin remained carefree. He snarled. “You keep surprising me today.”

The smog around them turned an inky black. The leftover oxygen had turned toxic. This place was now worse than a wasteland. Blood spurted out Jiwoons orifices. This ability put an incredible burden on him, but he didn’t care. All the souls came together, enveloping him in armor. And he held a long black sword in his hand, one, that could cut even the darkness.

“Let’s try this again.” He lunged at Dojin, this time at full power. The souls followed him, destroying everything in its path.

“Good luck,” Dojin whispered. A pair of translucent wings sprouted out his back, and he untangled his hands. He flashed forward, the ground underneath him turning to fire, then magma, then ash, until it was gone forever.

What came now, Do Jiwoon found hard to describe.

Sun.

It was as if the sun itself had come crashing down. The warehouse darkened by his smog turned white. An incredible heat enveloped him, and if it were not for the souls, not even ashes would be left of him. It was as if heaven itself came crashing down on him, the sinner. He faced Dojin. A beautiful glow surrounded him. It was an Angel.

The light subsided. Do Jiwoon fell down. His souls have all but evaporated.

Jiwoon turned around. He had no power left. Still, he gasped. What he saw was the blue sky. The wall behind him had disappeared, leaving only charcoal.

Lee Dojin stood behind him. He had a strange face. He muttered. “Damn, I missed.”