Haim burst out of the ward.

A patient had died. Seizures were spreading. And those smiles—

This was no longer a crisis medicine could contain.

He headed straight to his lab.

The air in the lab was frigid. The old desktop sat in silence.

Haim inhaled deeply and reached for the lowest drawer of the metal filing cabinet.

Click.

Inside were dozens of folders, meticulously arranged.

Among them: a black file marked in red ink:

“X-13-N / TOXiD.”

His fingers stopped without hesitation.

He opened it.

Yellowed documents, handwritten notes, unreadable neural scans, and a photo— worn at the edges, but unmistakable.

A subject’s blurred face.

But the smile was crystal clear.

『Upward lip curvature duration: 11 hours, 24 minutes』 『Repeated phrases: “The 901st night,” “She stopped speaking”』 『Anomalous memory synchronization, emotional disassociation detected』

Every single entry matched what Haim had seen in the ER.

Exactly.

He collapsed into the chair.

His heart pounded, as if trying to push him back.

『This isn’t coincidence.』 『Someone’s brought it back.』

Digging deeper into the file, he found a single page with a bold stamp in the corner:

— TOP SECRET — K.M.D.C. (Korea Mental Defense Center)

His eyes froze.

That name… He hadn’t seen it in years.

Suddenly, the lights flickered.

A siren echoed faintly from the street outside.

Haim looked up slowly.

『I thought it was buried.』 『But someone’s reopened the story.』

And now——

『The story… is devouring people again.』