THBPC 23

“Ah, thank you.”

A sharp, cool sensation spread through me.
It wasn’t pain.
It was coldness—like dew deep in a forest.
The refreshing feeling that entered through my eyes spread inside my skull.
Down the spine, into the ribs, to fingertips and toes.
A deeper sense of stability settled in.

Chief Sik’s claw.
Section Manager Myeon’s mask.
Assistant Hand’s head.
Manager Batori’s tentacles.
And dozens of D-rank dimensional entities.

‘Still… I survived a few weeks at this company.’

Assistant Hand had told me to stay sane, but maybe I was getting used to this kind of thing little by little.
Even while thinking that, the refreshing sensation of the leaf slowly faded.

After a while, Deputy Mok carefully removed the withered leaf from the corner of my eyes.

When I inhaled, the air felt different.
No, the air itself hadn’t changed.
Only the way I perceived the world had changed.
The boundaries of forms became clearer, and colors felt more unfamiliar.
It felt like seeing not with eyes, but with sensation itself.
Not light, but waves.

“Employee Jeong Hae-il. You’ll probably maintain your rationality for about 40 minutes.”

Deputy Mok spoke gently.
His green, tree-bark-like eyes shimmered with moisture.
At the same time, Section Manager Myeon pointed through the bone spear with his fingertips.
A quiet smile appeared on part of his face.

“Look.”

I looked.
My breath stopped.

There it was.

A god.

No.

The remains of that existence.

The form of a god.
And the disassembly of a god.

A gigantic statue of gold and ivory-colored geometric muscle structure, mixed in alternating patterns.
So precise, so enormous, it looked alive.
Its body had the restraint, beauty, and sublimity of Michelangelo’s masterpieces—but it was not perfect.

It was broken.
It was shattered.
It was carved away.

And within those gaps—
between the cracks—
flesh was moving.

Muscles, internal organs, irregular foreign matter, decomposed tissue.
Something like crawling blood vessels filled the broken spaces like a sticky membrane.

Crown.
One arm.
Abdomen.
Back.

In every missing part, countless vitreous objects were embedded.
Pupils rotating like galaxies.
Eyelids flickering like flames.
Gazes that felt like they were gripping the heart.

All of them looked at me.

At that single moment.

“…Ah.”

My knees almost gave out.
My breath was blocked, my mouth went dry.
My brain could not process what it was seeing.

It was beauty.
Blasphemy.
Fear.
And absoluteness.

A portrait of a disassembled god.

An indescribable vastness swirled through my organs.
Fragments of an overwhelming existence.
Broken, yet complete; disassembled, yet alive;
dead, yet existing.

The prayer beads on my wrist throbbed violently.

I had seen a god.
The portrait of a disassembled god.
When I first heard the name, it sounded like an exaggeration—but what was before my eyes was not an exaggeration at all.
In fact, no other description felt meaningful.

It was vast, precise, sacred, and grotesque.
Most of all—it was alive.
Something beyond the definition of life writhed through the broken fragments.

After I turned my gaze away from that unholy thing, the presence of my superiors began to register beside me one by one.

“Grrrr… ha…”

Chief Sik exhaled deeply.
A monster with chains, claws, and dozens of teeth.
He, who always read the room and tried to please others, now kept his mouth shut and lowered his body.
Even his growl had disappeared.
It was clear intimidation.

“Hoo.”

Assistant Hand also lowered his head slightly beside me.
Above his fist-shaped head, five fingers trembled awkwardly, unsure of what to do.
There was no trace of his usual relaxed, arms-crossed confidence.

Of course, not everyone was the same.

“Hooh, interesting.”

Manager Batori.
There wasn’t even the slightest tremor in her fingertips.
Her composed, elegant movements remained unchanged.
Her rose-colored eyes on pale skin simply observed the statue with interest.

“I was wondering what I would do if it was around C-rank… but that concern was unnecessary. Of course, it will be classified as an A-rank dimensional entity without objection.”

Deputy Mok.
Resting his root-like fingertips on the glass, he moved them through the air as if taking notes.
His green eyes flickered and blinked at the same time.

“Employee Jeong.”

Section Manager Myeon.
He quietly looked at me.

With a smiling face, he said,

“From here on, I’ll handle this myself.”

Click.

The door opened.
With a pressure-release sound, the overwhelming atmosphere of the containment room flowed out.

Inside was heavier than any containment room I had ever seen.

Section Manager Myeon slowly walked forward, adjusting his sleeve with one hand.
He passed through the glass door and entered the space.

“….”

I watched him.

More precisely, I watched what he was about to face.

‘It moved…?’

The shattered statue of a god.

From the cracks in its broken forehead.
From its split cheek and collapsed jaw.

A shape slowly turned its head.

No sound was made, yet part of space distorted and crumpled.
The flow of air twisted, and particles of light warped.

The face of the massive statue.
Its perfectly structured features.
A form that might once have been a god slowly turned toward Section Manager Myeon.

Through the gaps in its broken chest, back, abdomen, wrists, and ankles—even beneath torn eyelids—
countless eyes writhed and looked at him.

Hundreds of gazes.
Without emotion, intention, or individuality.
Only the function of “seeing” remained.

“…Ugh.”

It felt like I could hear blood flowing.
My feet froze.
My hands broke apart.
My lungs expanded painfully.

What was most terrifying was that Section Manager Myeon was still standing there, smiling in front of it.

He did not move back even a single step.

“Inside the object-like exterior, biological tissue appears to exist. In such cases, it is classified as a composite type.”

He slowly folded his arms.
And looked up at the portrait of a god with a calm gaze.

No fear at all.
Only mild curiosity and composure.
As if examining an old statue.

“In terms of physical aggression, it doesn’t seem very high. However, cases like this are often more dangerous. Because responses are not standardized, non-physical reactions in composite types should be handled carefully.”

Even inside the containment room, he continued speaking politely.

All I could do was nod and write it down in my notebook.
It was the same relaxed attitude as always.

Not a visitor confronting the ruins of a god.
But a manager inspecting raw materials for a company product.

Section Manager Myeon was truly facing it.

A distorted divinity from beyond the cracks of the world.
A collapsing form and living void.

And before that grotesque, inhuman god—

he stood completely calm.