It is a common motif in old legends: evil must be invited.
Even divinity, seemingly omnipotent, has rules it cannot break without permission—unable to enter a ho uninvited, unable to erge without help, and so on.
“......”
“......”
The guild mbers exchanged glances.
“...Mr. Sergio?”
The rookie team mber asked, and a voice from behind the door responded.
“Yes, my na is Sergio.”
That voice, filled with paradoxical emptiness, caused instant doubt.
The Collector’s Guild, with its strange and eerie collection of works, was always rife with ghost stories. Though they had been expecting "Mr. Sergio," the guild mbers couldn't help but worry—was this the kind of mont where a wrong decision brings misfortune?
Then, the 5th Floor Chamber Master and curator, Garasani, stood from his seat.
“Chamber Master.”
“What’s there to worry about?”
“Ah, it’s just...”
“......”
“...I’m sorry.”
“Click.”
Garasani swept his gaze across his juniors and opened the eting room door.
“......”
“Welco, Mr. Sergio.”
Standing before them was a platinum-haired man.
His hair flowed gently, and his eyes held the color of a sumr sea. Garasani did not et his gaze directly—instead, he bowed deeply, showing the respect due to a piece. He was, after all, a servant of many such works.
“We’ve been expecting you.”
“Am I late?”
“No, you’ve arrived precisely on ti.”
It was now 4:00 p.m., the exact appointed hour.
One of the rookie team mbers, already seated, looked past Garasani to see the large man standing behind him. That warm, sun-touched hue... combined with an expression so emotionless it sent chills down their spine.
‘They said he resembled a funeral.’
Flawless, spotless, yet heavier than grief—a gloomy, oppressive presence...
“......”
Ah.
‘...He looked right at .’
And then, the thing curved its eyes in a soft smile.
“Nice to et you.”
Death, once resembling a corpse, had turned into sunlight in an instant.
One could easily tell it was a monster mimicking humanity.
***
The Black Cloak held the status of a “free-range work” within the Collector’s Guild.
“Mr. Sergio” could be encountered freely within the Guild building—sotis in human form, sotis as a portrait. And the staff tried their best not to speak of him.
So feared curses. But more than anything...
‘You’re screwed if you get involved.’
‘No way am I working overti.’
‘Anyone but .’
Yes, no one wanted to get tangled in complicated affairs.
“Ah, if only he weren’t so friendly toward humans.”
“If he were antisocial, things would be so much easier...”
Even though Bisa Beul treated all guild mbers as part of his collection, he never disrespected humans. He drew a clear line between human collections and non-human works.
Would soone like Bisa Beul truly be insane enough to let a dangerous ghost story roam freely inside the building? No. But “Mr. Sergio” was especially kind to humans, and that was the problem—because the closer one got to him, the more likely they’d end up with more work.
“Look at Yoo Seong-Woon.”
A perfect example.
“Poor guy. Probably hasn’t been ho in days.”
“Wasn’t Curator Yoo always busy, though?”
“Still doesn’t change the fact that he’s been saddled with extra work related to Mr. Sergio.”
“Oh, yeah. Definitely not soone to get involved with.”
And so it was.
Because of that, Guild mbers avoided acknowledging Mr. Sergio when they saw him. Following orders, they showed him the utmost respect—but otherwise avoided him like a natural disaster. No one wanted to befriend the eye of the storm.
There were also those who feared him.
“Just because he’s friendly doesn’t an he won’t suddenly turn.”
“I respect Mr. Sergio as a mber of the Guild, but... yeah, he’s terrifying.”
“Do we have to befriend an urban legend...?”
To them, “Mr. Sergio” was not a human requiring social exchange. He was more like a phenonon—a ghost story quietly embedded in their daily routine.
No one wanted to beco friends with an urban legend like the Red Mask, still rumored to roam Korea. Who would want to casually chat with the ghost nurse wandering late-night hospitals, or the woman in a white dress standing on a desolate roadside?
“Well, if it’s required, I’ll do it.”
“If they order us, fine.”
“We’ll do what’s asked.”
Competent and responsible, Guild staff never did more than they were told. If they were ordered to interact, they’d treat it like whispering to a potted plant—“Say sothing nice once a day.”
“Wait, isn’t this workplace bullying?”
“...Does that apply to works, too?”
“Oh. Good point.”
To them, “Mr. Sergio” was one of Bisa Beul’s chilling works. Sothing that rely wore a human shape—not a true human. Thus, there was no real reason to socialize with him.
If he’d been a true coworker, they might have made small talk. Collector’s Guild mbers weren’t socially inept—just private. But Mr. Sergio was a work, not a colleague.
“I ran into Mr. Sergio yesterday.”
“Wow. And you still showed up for work today?”
“He was surprisingly gentle, so... it was fine.”
“You must be a good person, then.”
“We exchanged nas and I got a gift.”
“Nice and clean.”
Bisa Beul’s previously circulated “Mr. Sergio Interaction Guidelines” had also helped.
Now the Guild staff viewed him as “a creepy work you might run into, and if you manage the conversation well, you get a gift.”
So—not a colleague, but a workplace weather event. A mysterious natural occurrence with whom coexistence was necessary. They’d adapted.
“......”
“......”
Back in the eting room, where the dispatch team had gathered—
‘So this is the infamous Mr. Sergio. The Black Cloak who gifts the kind...’
‘He’s incredibly imposing. Looks fully human, which sohow makes it worse.’
‘He’s supposed to be good at interacting with intelligent species. How far can he go pretending to be human?’
There was a subtle tension. After all, they were now in a team with one of the building’s most infamous legends.
Given that Bisa Beul treasured him, the chances of danger were low—but having to face that eerie presence in person still made nerves taut.
‘He’s too perfect. It feels like I’m looking at sothing that shouldn’t exist...’
His appearance was astonishingly beautiful—his build neither too thin nor bulky. As if modeled to a perfect human ideal, his form only intensified the feeling of sothing not human.
‘Maybe he’s chosen this form to be pleasing to humans?’
In Korea, where appearance plays a large role in perception, it was a smart tactic. And indeed, many Guild mbers had been chard by his beauty—like beholding a rare jewel or priceless artifact.
“......”
A silver-haired woman with bronzed skin scanned the room. The 5th Floor Chamber Master had stepped back after letting Sergio in—his silence urging the others to act.
‘Is this a signal for us to engage properly?’
Perhaps gifts would co later—but for now, according to the guideline, the first step was to introduce themselves.
The woman stood and greeted Mr. Sergio.
“Mr. Sergio?”
“Yes, my na is Sergio.”
“You’re more handso than I expected!”
“Do you like this face?”
“Hard not to.”
She laughed, playing up her tone.
“Nice to et you. I’m Yoo Ji-Na.”
“Ms. Yoo Ji-Na. How should I address you?”
“Just like that, or call Ji-Na. Whatever’s easier.”
The rookie team mber smiled slyly.
“Please take good care of us on this mission.”
He really did seem human.
‘...Doesn’t he know that being slightly imperfect actually feels more human? Still, aside from being too ideal, everything else is spot-on. If people didn’t know what he was, they’d be completely fooled. He’s so skilled it’s dangerous.’
From him, there was none of the unease that other mysterious works gave off during mimicry. His only “flaw” was being too ideal—a vague impression that couldn’t be easily defined.
‘They said he wasn’t this good at first... is he evolving?’
The growth of an unknown entity always sparked human fear. Yoo Ji-Na pushed down her unease and continued with a courteous tone.
“These are Kang Neu-Ru and Dan-Mi!”
The field staff glanced at her gratefully, then spoke.
“Hello, I’m Kang Neu-Ru, field agent for the Collector’s Guild.”
“I’m with Neu-Ru, my na’s Dan-Mi. Nice to et you.”
With smooth introductions complete, Yoo Ji-Na shrugged casually.
“One more from our rookie team will be joining us, but she’s delayed helping the 1st Floor. Should be here soon.”
That’s when Garasani stepped forward.
“My apologies, Mr. Sergio. If you permit, I’ll go retrieve her.”
To outsiders, it might seem overly deferential. But they knew—so works would commit massacres over a missed appointnt.
The reason they hadn’t retrieved her sooner was because Mr. Sergio was known to be lenient. He showed mild displeasure to the rude, but so long as mistakes weren’t repeated, he responded with grace.
‘Still, we don’t know where his patience ends.’
That’s why Garasani stepped in—to gauge the mood of the work.
“If it has upset you...”
“I assu sothing urgent ca up.”
Fortunately, Mr. Sergio did not appear displeased.
“She said ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) it was unexpected, so there was no helping it.”
“Thank you for your understanding.”
“I appreciate the generous treatnt—but I also feel sowhat sorry.”
He smiled gently, eyes narrowing in a look of playful discomfort.
“Are you afraid of ?”
“No.”
The 5th Floor Chamber Master smiled like a grandfather looking upon his grown grandson.
“It is only an honor.”
It was a smile Garasani showed only to works.
“We’re already familiar with each other, but I imagine the faces here are new to you. This eting is to get acquainted before the operation—please feel comfortable.”
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness.”
“Don’t ntion it. Since you usually work nights, these folks probably haven’t seen much of you. Let’s take our ti and get to know each other.”
Though Garasani successfully seated Mr. Sergio, he didn’t relax. He could see how tense the others were, overwheld by this being’s oppressive aura—an aura of death.
He’d tried to hide it, but Garasani saw it.
‘And if I can see it, Mr. Sergio certainly can.’
It worried him.
‘We must play our parts in the roleplay Sergio wants.’
Garasani had plenty of experience and could adapt—but for the rookie and field teams, this would be a challenge. Playing along with the whims of a strange, unknowable entity was no small task.
With that in mind, Garasani set down tea for the team.
“This is the new Azan-Ka Tea I’ve prepared.”
“Ooh, Chamber Master’s tea is always excellent.”
“I’d love so light feedback.”
He smiled, hoping they could all adjust in peace.
***
Clack—!
A woman burst into the eting room.
“Sorry! Orientation ran a little lon—!”
She froze.
“Ah, Gio, you’re unbelievable!”
“You really did that? Not even joking?”
“This is insane... The Smiling Tyrant of the Sea Village? It fits too well...”
“How is that even possible?! Should I call this amazing or terrifying?”
The mood was shockingly cheerful.
“......”
“Ah, co in.”
At the center of it all, the platinum-haired priest looked at the stiffened rookie who clearly hadn’t caught up.
With a voice as soft and warm as the sun itself, he said:
“My na is Sergio.”
“Oh? Ah, yes.”
“What is your na?”
“Kim Na-Na...”
“I see.”
The Black Cloak asked calmly:
“Would you like to speak with ?”
“......”
Isn’t this just a textbook cult induction scene?
‘What the hell did he do to my coworkers?’
Kim Na-Na felt chills rush down her spine.
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