Killing the Possessor - Chapter 1
Prologue. Possessor Hell
“Pl-please, help me!”
With a sudden clunk, the carriage came to a screeching halt, throwing my body forward.
If I hadn’t grabbed the wall quickly, I might have been injured from the abrupt stop. I cursed quietly under my breath at the aching ligaments and began to fix my disheveled hair when the same voice cried out again.
“Please, help me!”
I pulled back the curtain and glanced toward the coachman’s window. A middle-aged man was kneeling, begging.
Had he encountered some kind of evil spirit? I clicked my tongue in frustration, then reluctantly opened the door and stepped out. It seemed that the coachman couldn’t handle this on his own.
In a situation like this, where every moment counted, it was better to take a bit of risk and handle it swiftly myself. I glared at the man halfway on the carriage, ready to grab him by the collar, and asked,
“What’s going on?”
“Mi, Miss. Miss.”
The man, seeing me, brightened and immediately clung to me. He seemed to think I would be more understanding than the rough-looking coachman.
“Listen, I had an accident while crossing the intersection, and when I woke up, I found myself in a stranger’s house.”
“…”
“People here have strange purple, green, and odd-colored hair, and suddenly, words I’ve never heard before are coming out of my mouth… At first, I thought it was a dream, but it wasn’t!”
His explanation came out in a jumble, causing my lips to tighten.
Could it be…
“He said he doesn’t even know Korea, and not even Asia. How frustrating is that? I need to go back, but instead, I’m stuck in some weird place— And when I said that, the people in that house tried to lock me in a room!”
…he’s a possessor.
As soon as I confirmed his identity, I subtly scanned the surroundings. It was late at night, and apart from the coachman, myself, and this man, there was no one else on the street.
When I returned my gaze to the man, he was squeezing out tears and snot, looking up at me with an utterly desperate expression. He clutched my dress and pleaded passionately.
“I broke the window and barely escaped, but then some police-like men started chasing me with guns and knives. There was even someone using some strange kind of magic!”
“…”
“I barely shook them off, but I almost died! I didn’t commit any crime, I just wanted to go home, but what the hell is going on…? Please, help me!”
Should I save him?
I glanced at the coachman, who had realized the man was a possessor and was standing there with his mouth agape, trembling. It would be a hassle, but since the coachman was an ordinary person without magic, I could just alter his memories later.
Yeah, let’s save him. After a fierce internal debate, I came to a decision.
“First, lower your voice.”
This is a world where possessors are executed. If I leave him as is, his fate is painfully obvious.
The exorcists would be called in, and they’d perform an elaborate exorcism. If that doesn’t work, they’d drag him to an interrogation room and torture him until he spills whatever unknown information he has.
Once caught, the end result is always execution. To die just because he was unlucky enough to end up in this world… is there anything more unjust than that?
But the moment I decided to save him, something in the background caught my eye, giving me a strange sense of unease.
Wait, is it really okay to save him?
He said he was being chased by what seemed like the police. But we’re only three blocks away from Count Midas’ townhouse.
Count Midas is known for being a party animal, and this year’s birthday ball was going to be as grand as ever. I had planned to attend it myself, though a bit late.
And yet, they drove the possessor to this place, so close to the venue?
I quickly scanned the surroundings again. There was still no one on the road.
The ball must be in full swing, so it made sense that the carriage wouldn’t be in sight, but there wasn’t a single security officer chasing him either. It seemed suspicious. Right in the middle of the town, and no one had managed to catch him?
It’s a trap. This is definitely a trap.
Having made my judgment, I turned my cold gaze toward the man. I yanked the dress he was holding sharply and shook him off.
I couldn’t tell if he was really a possessor in danger or just acting, but I, too, was an ordinary human. I wasn’t going to risk my life to help someone in an uncertain situation.
“We should contact the security.”
Avoiding his gaze, I spoke to the coachman behind me. The coachman, now snapping out of his daze, adjusted his hat and nodded as if he understood.
“…Miss? Miss!”
Seeing that I was about to leave him behind, the man trembled and reached out toward me. His pale face and the terror in his eyes looked far too genuine to be an act.
Tsk. I couldn’t help but click my tongue.
It’s a pitiful situation. He looked like an ordinary middle-aged man who probably never read a fantasy novel in his life. Why did he have to end up in this cruel world, of all places?
A world that’s the harshest for possessors…
…Should I help him?
Seeing an innocent victim in pain didn’t sit well with me. His weak sobs and pitiful appearance made me second-guess my decision, pushing me toward the opposite conclusion.
But then…
“Oh, so you went this way.”
