Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!-Chapter 241 : Beginning & Nihility

Busan, Haeundae!

The sky was a messy watercolor of burnt orange, deep violet, and that weird in-between shade that wasn't quite blue or black yet—like the universe couldn't decide if it was time to sleep or not. The air smelled like the ocean, thick with salt and something almost metallic, the kind of scent that stuck to your skin no matter how far inland you went.

The city pulsed. Neon signs flickered to life, fighting for attention with the last traces of sunlight.

Streets near Haeundae Beach were alive—cars honking, people laughing too loud, some drunk ajusshi already yelling about politics outside a convenience store. Typical. Seagulls screamed like they had unpaid rent, swooping over the high-rise buildings that lined the coast, their glass windows catching the last golden rays.

And then, there was the hospital.

Haeundae Prestige Medical Center.

A place so damn fancy it didn't even feel like a hospital. More like a five-star hotel where people just happened to be dying. The building stood tall, a sleek tower of glass and steel, reflecting the city's neon glow like it was part of the skyline itself.

Inside, the hallways were too quiet. The kind of silence that made you want to cough just to make sure sound still existed. Nurses walked like they were floating, not stepping, their shoes making zero noise on the pristine floors.

Machines hummed softly behind closed doors, beeping occasionally, like they were whispering secrets to each other.

And then, in one particular VVIP suite, the light bled in.

The VVIP hospital suite was something out of a chaebol drama—high ceilings, designer furniture, a view that screamed you can't afford this, and a silence so thick it felt manufactured. The whole thing was a fucking status symbol, a reminder that even sickness had a price tag.

The huge floor-to-ceiling windows drank in the last embers of daylight, letting a soft orange glow stretch across the crisp white sheets of the hospital bed. It wasn't a harsh light—more like a gentle sigh, brushing against the polished wood floors and the plush velvet armchair by the window. The shadows stretched long, dancing over the bookshelves, the sleek monitors, and the glass of untouched water on the bedside table.

The room was peaceful. Almost too peaceful.

Like the kind of quiet that came before something absolutely fucked up happened.

And right in the middle of all that ridiculous luxury, perched on a perfectly fluffed bed, was a twelve-year-old girl.

She didn't look ordinary. Far from it.

Pale skin, unholy levels of poise for a kid, and eyes so deep it felt like they saw through shit instead of at it. Her long black hair was too neat, her posture too still, her whole presence too unsettling for someone that age.

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She held a book, fingers resting lightly on the edges, and read aloud in a voice that was both soft and sharp at the same time:

"Misfortunes come suddenly, like an uninvited guest. And good luck doesn't come kindly either, wrapped in roses. Sometimes, both of them look exactly the same, making it difficult to differentiate between them… and making it even harder to tell if death is a good thing."

She paused, turning the page with a slow, deliberate motion.

"That's the same with me and Nihility."

Then, with the tiniest tilt of her head, she added:

"And now Nihility is back."

For a second, it wasn't clear if she was still reading or if those words had slipped out from her own thoughts.

A twelve-year-old saying shit like that? Creepy.

A twelve-year-old saying it like it was just an objective fact of the universe? Way worse.

Her voice didn't shake. There was no hesitation, no childish attempt at dramatics. Just calm, steady certainty, like someone stating today's weather.

She closed the book, setting it aside with graceful precision, and leaned back against the pillows. Her dark eyes flickered toward the window, where the city skyline glowed like a living thing, towering over Haeundae in all its restless, neon-lit glory.

"Is the balance going to be restored," she mused, not reading anymore, just thinking out loud, "or bent to one side completely? Makes one wonder which face Nihility is wearing… Good luck? Misfortune? Or perhaps neither?"

She exhaled, slow and controlled, like she already knew the answer but was just enjoying the question.

And that was the thing about her.

At first glance? She wasn't just hard to underestimate—she was impossible to pin down.

She was too poised to be a normal kid.

Too deliberate to be naive.

Too dangerous to be overlooked.

She stretched her arms lazily, letting out a long sigh like she had just finished running a marathon, even though all she did was flip a page.

"What an interesting book," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper, but there was something in her tone—like she wasn't just reading words on a page but feeling them, breathing them in. Like every sentence stitched itself into her skin, making her feel different.

She let her head sink back into the soft hospital pillows, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. The room was too quiet, the kind of silence that settled deep, wrapping around her like an invisible weight.

A soft knock on the door. Then a nurse peeked in, her expression the usual mix of professional warmth and that slight awkwardness people got when they didn't know how to act around a rich kid stuck in a hospital bed. The young girl gave her a small, knowing smile—not the polite kind, not the forced one, but one that said, Yeah, I know the drill.

The nurse nodded back, the classic Korean silent acknowledgment before she left.

The girl stayed still for a beat, staring at the ceiling. Then, with a quiet sigh, she mustered up the effort to move—which was saying something. Her arms and legs felt weak, like they weren't even fully hers, but she ignored it. Swinging her legs over the bed, she carefully climbed down, her hospital gown swaying slightly as she walked toward the window.

Then her eyes flicked to a different direction—like a switch had been flipped. Her lips barely moved, but the words came out cold, almost eerie.

"He's in Seoul." A pause. "And killing."

Her fingers gripped the window frame.

*****

Was I too much? Anyway guys, be mindful of this chapter and the next one to come. Oh, I mean you could underestimate it too; Wink!