Chapter 45: Monster in the Swamp
“Ability?”
Han Su, who had been tearing open an instant noodle packet, paused and looked up at Cui Qiao. “I’m actually a bit curious…” He hesitated, then looked at her and said, “I once studied occultism. I seem to recall a theory that mystical abilities often bring with them unknown risks…”
“When you people use these abilities, is there also a price to pay?”
“A price, of course there is.”
Cui Qiao listened to Han Su’s words with a tone of unusual appreciation, nodding slightly. “Before exploring mysterious power, one must consider the cost. Honestly, your clarity impresses me.”
“When it comes to the cost, it’s significant.”
She paused, then spoke softly: “Using an ability implies gradual depletion of mental strength, pressure on the brain, and destruction of rationality. So those who abuse mental power often suffer from insomnia, confusion, and poor memory.”
“And within mystical circles, there is often a tendency toward severe hair loss after forty.”
“…”
Han Su listened, bewildered. “Huh? That’s it?”
“Of course there are more serious consequences…”
Cui Qiao, the secretary, offered a slight smile, then suddenly became serious. “Using abilities draws one ever closer to those mysterious beings, until one cannot escape.”
“Just as you, simply by encountering the grotesque, had to abandon your previous life and join this department.”
“Spiritual penetration means you are breaking boundaries directly.”
“You can think of it this way: the world is built on top of a vast swamp. All humans walk above the swamp, but in its depths lurk countless monsters and shadows, ever ready to consume the humans above.”
“Even if you do nothing, some unlucky person might slip into the sludge by accident, or be snatched by a creature below and pulled down.”
“And what spiritual penetrators do is repeatedly, recklessly, dip their feet into the sludge. They even deliberately approach and tease those monsters lurking within.”
“In reality, ability-wielders do the same. Every time they use their power, they move a little closer to those monsters in the depths. The stronger their abilities, the more visible they become to those swamp creatures.”
“An ability itself is a method for a monster in the swamp to infiltrate reality.”
“Do you understand, if I explain it that way?”
“…”
Han Su nodded.
This time he truly understood.
At this point, Cui Qiao suddenly smiled and said to Han Su, “But you don’t need to be afraid.”
“The Disaster Management Bureau has been around for several years. Some formidable and intelligent individuals have indeed brought the risks of spiritual penetration training down to a very low level. Moreover, training slots are limited. You don’t even know when yours will come up.”
“…”
She glanced at her watch, then turned and walked toward the door. Han Su felt anxious. “Uncle Zhang…”
Without looking back, the secretary walked out and said, “Don’t casually inquire about the whereabouts of key Bureau leaders.”
“…What the hell!”
Watching her leave without another word, Han Su felt helpless.
He could only slowly heat water for his noodles while silently contemplating what she had told him.
‘A world walking on a swamp?’
If her words were accurate, the entire world rested on a swamp, those who achieved spiritual penetration were essentially those who, from time to time, extended their feet into the swamp and taunted the monsters.
So what category did he fall into? Someone who had been kidnapped by monsters since childhood and never escaped?
Someone long submerged by the swamp, yet who broke the surface over and over to breathe?
But according to that theory, what exactly were the monsters that kidnapped him? And why did mysterious power linger in him?
He hadn’t completely ruled out wild ideas—that the monsters were “gods” or something—but how could gods be on that level?
Although he had never truly escaped, he had deceived them, evaded them, even injured them…
Those things were definitely not gods!
Shaking off that peculiar thought, Han Su looked at his left hand.
The prominent cross‑shaped scar on the back of his hand was grotesque and clear, with an ugly sense of strangeness.
During his time at the Disaster Management Bureau, the only inconvenience had been adapting to this ability.
Although he had a general understanding during assessments, neither his right‑eye power nor his left hand had space to be familiarized with or developed.
Of course, if he truly wanted to develop without restraint, it indeed had to be after clearly understanding the cost.
There was no denying that Cui Qiao's reminder was necessary:
Hair loss was indeed terrifying!
But as for the rest — the talk about how the more one used abilities, the closer one got to the Monster in the Swamp, the more likely one was to sink — for him, was that really a cost?
While thinking, Han Su placed the instant noodles into a bowl.
He was used to eating instant noodles from a bowl, for two reasons.
First, the woman who took care of him before the age of ten once told him that at home, instant noodles should not be eaten from a paper tub.
That was a matter of principle — a sign that one had a home.
The other reason was that Han Su had bought bagged instant noodles.
Xu Ji, that guy, was indeed generous, having rented such a small apartment to him. But while the rent was cheap, the property management and service fees were anything but.
Having already taken advantage of Xu Ji, he couldn't ask him to cover those extra expenses too, so he paid out of his own pocket.
All in all, it wasn’t much different from when he worked odd jobs and lived in low-rent housing.
Earlier, he had stayed at the Disaster Management Bureau for a week.
These noodles, bought according to a tight schedule, were now nearly expired.
As boiling water was poured into the noodle bowl — steaming hot — Han Su’s right hand instinctively wanted to let go. But in his mind, he silently recited that incantation.
At once, his spiritual power began to “flow,” concentrating in his left hand.
He had recited the incantation several times before and had gotten used to the sensation of spiritual power turning into a stream, something tangible and graspable.
That usually sluggish hand suddenly turned ice-cold and felt nothing of the scalding hot water.
On the contrary, the sense of power was incredibly strong — though he hadn't even used force while holding the bowl, the large porcelain bowl unexpectedly cracked with a snap.
Han Su hurriedly switched bowls and withdrew the spiritual power focused on his left hand.
He silently pondered: “If mere contact could cause those monsters to leave such powerful strength in my body, then does that mean…”
“Next time I enter the castle, if I find a chance to grab one of those monsters, could I also leave behind a corresponding power, and then activate it once I return to reality?”
“Grab a monster?”
“That’s weird!”
As he thought about it, he cracked an egg into the bowl to celebrate his return, and even added a sausage — a small indulgence.
Yet despite returning to a familiar environment, something still felt… missing.
At that moment, a knock suddenly came at the door.
Holding chopsticks, Han Su walked over to answer it.
The moment he opened the door, he froze.
Zhang Zhiguo stood at the doorway beaming with joy, while behind him stood his secretary Cui Qiao, face dark, carrying bags full of groceries.
“Xiao Han, you—”
He spoke happily, then paused, sniffing the air. “You’ve already started eating?”
Han Su stood there confused. “What’s all this?”
Zhang Zhiguo turned, puzzled, to look at Secretary Cui. “I came over to cook you a meal — to celebrate your joining the Disaster Management Bureau and have a little chat. Didn’t Xiao Cui tell you?”
Han Su replied, “No.”
Behind Zhang Zhiguo, the expressionless Secretary Cui said, “Your whereabouts must not be disclosed under any circumstances. Besides…”
“…How was I supposed to know when you said ‘get things ready,’ you meant going to the market?”
“…And buying this much?”
“……”
They had indeed bought a lot.
After helping Secretary Cui carry the groceries inside, Zhang Zhiguo cheerfully tied on an apron and entered the kitchen to cook.
Secretary Cui Qiao, dressed in her black suit, was assigned to squat on a low stool to wash potatoes.
Unlike when they were at the Disaster Management Bureau, Zhang Zhiguo in the kitchen looked just like a stay-at-home old man.
Cui Qiao, too, seemed different from the composed, confident image she had back in the Bureau.
Now, she wore a look of resentment, scrubbing the potatoes with visible frustration.
Han Su thought it would be polite to sit beside her and help, but she showed none of the former friendliness she had displayed.
Instead, she glared coldly. “Go sit on the sofa over there. Director Zhang said this is my task!”
She especially emphasized the word “task.”
‘Well, that attitude clearly isn't very professional for a mission…’
Han Su thought but didn’t say it aloud. He gave up trying to rescue the potatoes.
Just from the smell, he could tell Zhang Zhiguo was preparing oil-poured fish and beef tofu.
That nearly expired bowl of instant noodles was pushed aside.
The constant tension in his nerves began to ease a little.
These were dishes he had loved as a child.
He didn’t remember much from before the age of ten — just a few fragmented memories, and even those weren’t exactly pleasant.
The single woman who had cared for him had a bad temper. His body was often covered in bruises, and he didn’t recall eating anything particularly tasty. But at least he hadn’t starved.
After the kidnapping incident, it was Zhang Zhiguo who had taken care of him for a while under the pretext of protecting a witness.
This rough old man often cooked delicious meals himself and occasionally coaxed a laugh out of him.
Of course, back then, Zhang Zhiguo had probably hoped that pampering Han Su might help him remember something — but that didn’t matter anymore.
Back then, facing the stern Public Security Bureau, the frenzied media, and the grieving families of victims, had it not been for Zhang Zhiguo’s tall and silent figure shielding him, he might have gone insane.
As he thought this, he picked up a handful of string beans and slowly began trimming them.