Chapter 3: The Incoming Call

Avery dropped onto the sofa as if throwing himself onto it.

He had only wanted to relax by the peaceful ocean,

but today had been completely derailed by his strange conversation with Theodore.

Staring at the ceiling,

he replayed their exchange over and over in his mind.

Theodore hadn't acted like he was meeting him for the first time.

Rather, he had spoken as if he had known him for a long time.

As if they shared some kind of hidden secret.

But one thing was certain—

Avery had never met him before today.

And yet… what did he mean by "Gallery"?

It felt like an incomprehensible puzzle was slowly piling up, piece by piece.

"Could he have been talking about the Night Gallery app?"

Avery muttered to himself.

"Masterpieces?

As far as I know, Avery was never an artist, and he sure as hell wasn't some kind of Picasso."

Was the clue hidden within his still-foggy memories?

He slowly lifted his phone.

And then—

The red notification dot on the Night Gallery app.

It gave off an ominous feeling, as if urging him to check it immediately.

Avery took a deep breath,

And in the end, he tapped the screen.

Ding—

The app launched.

But instead of answers,

What greeted him was—

A password entry screen.

"Damn it. I don't even remember using this app,

So how the hell am I supposed to know the password?"

Avery let out a deep sigh.

For now, he decided to just try whatever came to mind.

His birthday.

The last four digits of his phone number.

His apartment unit number.

But each time, the only response was—

Beep—!

Incorrect password.

The only thing that kept appearing was the irritating error sound.

After several failed attempts,

A new notification popped up on the screen.

[Too many failed attempts]

This account has been locked.

To resolve this issue, please contact 'The Collector.'

"…The Collector? Who the hell is that?"

Avery muttered in disbelief.

He had tried to find answers,

But instead, he was left with even more questions.

An endless cycle of confusion.

He opened his game screen again.

His virtual farm was full of ripening crops,

But he had no time to care about that right now.

"Haa…"

Avery let out a frustrated sigh,

locked his phone, and carelessly tossed it aside.

Now, he needed real answers.

Clear, undeniable answers.

In the past, as an assassin lurking in the shadows of the martial world,

He knew better than anyone that survival depended on never ruling out any possibility.

The peaceful life he had maintained until now—

Was beginning to waver.

Whether it was just his imagination,

Or if an unseen presence was truly drawing closer—

He needed to be sure.

Avery made up his mind.

'There might be a clue hidden somewhere in this body or this space.'

He immediately began searching the room.

He opened desk drawers,

Tossed aside piles of clothes,

And meticulously checked every hidden corner.

All in search of a single lead.

As he sifted through a stack of books,

His hand pulled out an expired cup of instant noodles.

It had been wedged between old academic textbooks.

"…Seriously? This isn't a clue; this is a disaster."

Avery sighed and shoved the book back in place.

"Maybe I should've been a detective instead?"

Muttering small complaints, he didn't give up.

He moved on to search the living area.

A cramped, worn-out space.

A few shelves, a small TV, a couple of old chairs.

It didn't take long to inspect everything.

Running his fingers along the edges of the furniture,

He checked for hidden compartments or suspicious objects—

But everything was far too ordinary.

No sense of danger. No unfamiliar traces.

That was it.

The next place to check would have been the kitchen,

But Avery dismissed that idea immediately.

"There's no way I'm supposed to find a clue in the kitchen, right?"

The thought of rummaging through pots and pans in search of something made him chuckle.

"Or… maybe there's actually a dangerous recipe hidden somewhere?"

Amused by the ridiculous idea,

he threw himself onto the sofa.

Result: Nothing.

Feeling frustrated, he stared up at the ceiling.

And then, the questions resurfaced.

Why did Theodore call me 'Enigma'?

I don't know him at all—so why does he know me?

There were no answers in sight.

His gaze naturally drifted toward the window.

Sunlight poured in from outside,

Casting long shadows across the room.

What if I confronted Theodore as 'Night King' himself?

That thought flashed through his mind for a brief moment.

If he approached with his past skills and instincts,

Uncovering the truth wouldn't be difficult.

…It was a tempting choice.

But at the same time,

It meant stepping back into a dangerous path.

"Do I really have to meet him as 'Night King'?"

Avery pondered deeply.

And then, he suddenly realized something about this body.

Avery's body—was stronger than he had expected.

He had already confirmed it multiple times.

When he slapped himself in front of the mirror,

The impact had been so powerful that it left him dizzy and with a nosebleed.

When he effortlessly lifted the heavy steel door at the convenience store,

He knew right away—this wasn't normal strength.

Even though he was no longer Yeomra,

He still retained his physical abilities and assassination skills from the past.

He flexed his fingers slightly.

Deep within his muscles, his combat instincts still remained.

They were alive and well.

And that alone gave him an odd sense of relief.

But…

Was it really okay to use this power?

One wrong choice—

And the ordinary life he cherished could collapse in an instant.

"Haa…"

Avery let out a deep sigh,

Sinking deeper into the sofa.

Enigma.

That word echoed in his mind.

Could it be that Theodore mistook him for someone else?

After all, Avery was just a convenience store clerk.

He hadn't gone to college,

Nor had he accomplished anything remarkable like in his past life.

His was nothing more than a normal life…

So why—

Would someone like Theodore be interested in him enough to call him "Enigma"?

"He probably just mistook me for someone else."

"Why would someone like him even care about a guy like me?"

"I'm… just nobody."

Thinking that, Avery pushed the thoughts aside and returned to his normal routine.

At first, the meeting with Theodore lingered in his mind,

But over time, it began to fade.

It didn't seem like something he needed to worry about right now.

The warning Theodore had given him—

"Don't go around acting freely in my territory."

Since he had no plans to return to that village,

Simply avoiding it would be enough to stay out of trouble.

And so,

Avery resumed his life as a convenience store clerk.

Day after day, uneventful and routine.

So smooth, so quiet.

Like the eerie silence before a storm.

But he brushed it off as just a feeling.

His virtual farm on his phone continued to grow steadily,

And he cherished the peaceful routine.

Until that day came—

One night, after returning home from a long shift at the convenience store.

Dragging his exhausted body into his tiny one-room apartment,

Avery tossed his keys onto the table and collapsed onto the sofa.

Reaching for his phone, the first app he opened was…

His farming game.

Tonight, he planned to upgrade his tomato farm.

Just as his fingers tapped the screen—

Ding—

A sudden incoming call notification blocked his view.

[Unknown Caller]

Receiving call…

Avery froze.

On the screen, the blinking call icon.

His instinct told him to press decline.

But at the same time—

A strange sense of dread crept over him.

His finger hovered in midair, hesitating.

Should he answer it? Or just ignore it?

Who would be calling him…?

Aside from Manager Takeda,

Mina, who always called with some ridiculous excuse,

And Ms. Kim, who never forgot to remind him about rent—

There was almost no one who would call Avery.

But a private number?

That made it even more suspicious.

Riiing… Riiing…

The phone kept ringing.

As if it had no intention of stopping until he answered.

Avery took a deep breath.

Should he pick up or not…?

And then—

He pressed the answer button.

"…Hello?"

He spoke cautiously.

At that moment—

A cheerful voice burst through the receiver.

A high, lively tone.

Like an excited game show host announcing the next contestant.

"Good evening, dear member~!"

"This is 'The Whisperer.' We're calling because the deadline is approaching~!"

"You haven't forgotten, have you? If you fail to submit anything by the deadline…

That would be considered a contract violation."

"And you do know what happens to members who break their contracts… right?"

Avery's brows furrowed.

"…What did you just say?"

"Oh my, do you have any additional questions, dear member?"

The woman's voice remained sweet.

But beneath that politeness,

Something about it felt off.

Avery bit his lower lip slightly.

"Questions? Yeah, plenty. First off—who the hell are you?"

He asked sharply.

Then—

A sudden silence.

On the other end of the line,

He could only hear the faint sound of someone breathing.

And finally—

The woman responded softly, yet with a clear and firm tone.

"We are 'The Whisperers.'"

"As members of 'Night Gallery,' we are responsible for delivering messages to 'Artists.'"

Night Gallery.

That familiar yet ominous name

Sent a cold shiver down Avery's spine.

"Night Gallery?"

Avery instinctively repeated the words.

His confusion only deepened.

"That's correct, dear member. To be more precise…

Enigma."

Enigma.

That name again.

Theodore had called him that as well.

At first, he had assumed it was just a misunderstanding.

But if he had now been called by the same name twice—

It was too much to be a coincidence.

Avery quickly assessed the situation.

Flat-out denying it might only make him seem more suspicious.

Alright. He would play along for now.

This could be an opportunity to uncover a clue about his missing memories.

"I see."

He responded as calmly as possible.

"But there's a problem."

"What kind of problem, dear member?"

"I forgot my Night Gallery login credentials, and my account got locked."

"Ah! So that's what happened."

The woman's voice brightened.

"We were getting worried since you've been inactive lately—but now it makes sense.

You really should've contacted us sooner.

After all, Enigma, you're a very important member to us."

"Important member."

That phrase didn't sit well with him.

"You want to recover your account, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Then would you like me to connect you to The Collector?"

"Sure, go ahead."

"Understood. Please hold for a moment~!"

Soon after,

A strange melody began playing through the phone.

Hold music.

Even in that brief moment,

Avery ran through countless theories in his mind.

"…What kind of organization was I even a part of?"

And then,

A few moments later—

The voice of The Whisperer returned.

"Thank you for waiting, dear member."

"I will now connect you to one of our Collectors."

"Before that, do you have any additional questions, Enigma?"

"No, that's all."

"Alright. I'll transfer you now. Thank you for your valuable time today~!"

Beep—

After a short tone,

This time, a deep, rough male voice came through.

"Hello, member. Enigma, was it?"

"I heard you're having trouble with your login."

"That's right."

Avery replied as casually as possible.

"I forgot my password, and now my account is locked."

"Hmm… We can reset your password,*

"But you'll have to follow a few procedures."

The man's voice was calm,

But there was something unsettling beneath it.

"It will take about 10 minutes. Is that alright?"

"That's fine."

After a brief exchange,

The Collector assured him that his account would be restored by the end of the day.

And with that, the call ended.

Yet, Avery still felt a swarm of unanswered questions clouding his thoughts.

And then—

Exactly 10 minutes later—

Knock. Knock.

A knock echoed through his one-room apartment.

"Hold on a second."

Avery tensed instantly.

He answered quietly.

When he opened the door,

Someone wearing a deeply pulled-down hood was standing there.

Their face was hidden in shadows, making it impossible to tell who they were.

But the moment the person spoke,

It became clear that he was a young man.

"Member Enigma, I am one of the 'Cleaners.'"

"The original handler was busy, so I was sent in their place."

"For security reasons, the identity verification process must be conducted in person."

His voice remained calm as he continued.

"Please place your thumb here."

"And for further verification, we require a blood sample and a retina scan."

"Once authentication is complete, you will be able to reset your password through voice recognition."

…This is way too thorough.

Avery thought to himself.

For a simple account recovery, the process was far too meticulous.

It was now clear that this wasn't just some ordinary 'website.'

But his curiosity outweighed his doubts.

Without resistance, he followed the procedure.

Not long after,

The app launched, and a new authentication screen appeared.

Something that hadn't existed before—voice recognition login.

[Say 'Hello.']

Avery read the text and repeated the word aloud.

A moment later, the password reset screen appeared.

After entering a new password,

He looked at the hooded man standing before him and said,

"Thanks."

The man gave a silent nod,

Then quietly disappeared.

But—

There were no footsteps. He moved like..

…An assassin?

His silent movements were eerily similar to those of the assassins Avery had once worked alongside.

But that wasn't important right now.

There was something far more pressing.

Avery quickly launched the app.

And then—

What he saw made his breath catch.

A video gallery.

The screen was filled with horrifying footage.

People covered in blood, screaming.

Somewhere, someone was filming—wearing a faint smile.

'Night Gallery.'

It wasn't just a gallery app.

It was a place where brutal acts were shared,

Where they were praised as 'art,'

And where those responsible were financially rewarded.

A YouTube-like platform… for serial killers.