OL Ch 24

Chapter 24

Hayun woke up early again today after suddenly remembering someone from his past. He couldn’t fall back asleep; his eyes felt heavy and his body sluggish. Rubbing his face vigorously, he let out a long sigh before getting out of bed.

It was still pitch-black outside. Checking the time on his cell phone, it wasn’t even five o’clock yet. Instead of lingering in bed any longer, Hayun headed straight to the bathroom. He washed his face quickly and brushed his teeth.

His body felt refreshed, but his eyes remained groggy. After rubbing them, he put on his glasses and started preparing for his morning run. His preparations were minimal—changing into workout clothes and grabbing his cell phone—and soon, he was ready to go.

“I’m going for a jog.”

He didn’t want to leave without saying anything, but he also didn’t want to wake his family with loud noises. So, he whispered goodbye softly enough that only those next to him could hear before stepping outside.

The unique scent of dawn filled his lungs. A few early risers were already out and about on the streets. Hayun did some light stretching, then started jogging around the neighborhood. It had been over two months since that incident, and the community was diligently trying to erase its scars.

Hayun was also making diligent efforts to recover. Although he kept pushing away certain thoughts for now, he’d learned something valuable: There’s a limit to how much one can avoid painful memories, and once you reach it, it’s best to be cautious of everything.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel sad about leaving his house key at home and having to contact security, enjoying his favorite food, or being unable to take even one step away from their usual route. However, Hayun didn’t know how to empty himself of these painful thoughts. There was no one he needed to hate or forgive.

Kim Deukcheol’s death was presumed to be at Mookyeong’s hands on that fateful day, and his power had temporarily vanished due to overuse. Without using his ability then, neither Mookyeong nor their families would have survived. Despite revisiting those events multiple times, if given the chance to go back, Hayun would make the same choices again.

Of course, some who knew him might question this stance, but considering Kim Deukcheol targeted Seo Iju and Mookyeong, there was no other option.

If they had managed to escape…

‘Seoul wouldn’t be here anymore.’

Hayun vividly remembered that day. He might have the clearest recollection of it among everyone involved.

Seo Iju had instructed Hayun to close the door. The prospect of opening and closing a door he’d never seen before, especially one leading to a labyrinth, felt utterly hopeless at the time. Upon returning home, Hayun climbed to the top of the tallest building nearby.

By then, the door was almost fully open. Only two corners remained intact, barely holding on. From where he stood, Hayun could see monsters emerging through the gaps. There was no more time to waste. They needed to open the door first. If they couldn’t open it while closed, there would be no chance to attempt closure later.

No one knew how long it would take to conquer the labyrinth—months or perhaps even years—but they were certain that this area directly adjacent to its entrance would be devastated before then. The military would start restricting access around the labyrinth to prevent further expansion of the affected zone until they could secure control over it. This area would inevitably be abandoned without any additional supplies or manpower.

And so, he opened the door.

Honestly, Hayun couldn’t remember exactly how he did it. There was no specific procedure, and there weren’t any difficulties. It felt like pure luck; everything aligned perfectly as if destined for disaster.

As soon as the door swung open, massive monsters poured out, plunging the region into chaos.

For reasons unknown, as soon as the monster appeared, every living creature within the labyrinth suffered immensely. Hunters wailed in agony, crawled on all fours like animals, and lashed out in anger. Some took their own lives or killed others around them. Monsters behaved similarly, resulting in bloodshed and hatred spreading rapidly across the land. Hayun felt paralyzed with fear, his mind blank from sheer terror.

But what drove him to succeed was the fear that Mookyeong would die if he didn’t act. He believed he could save his own family, but Mookyeong couldn’t.

Yet inexplicably, Mookyeong was rampaging and heading straight toward his location. In this dire situation, his only hope lay in the bracelet. The doors to the labyrinth had already opened, but he couldn’t tell if it was due to the bracelet’s power or his own ability.

With no choice but to stand his ground, Hayun raised the bracelet towards the sky. His sole thought was that if the labyrinth’s door could close, then perhaps the other broken doors would also seal shut. As he concentrated on this idea, the gogok within the bracelet began to rattle busily, shaking rapidly against each other.

Initially, one bead awakened. The name Kim Eung appeared in white letters before fading away. This triggered numerous gogok to simultaneously awaken. Some names were unidentified and marked as such, while others displayed their Chinese characters.

As countless names flickered, the previously vanished doors reappeared, blocking off the corridors once more. Hayun broke out in cold sweat, feeling drained of all energy, until only Seo Iju’s gogok remained.

However, it seemed insufficient to block the labyrinth’s door. Something more was needed. At that moment, he heard cracking sounds from within his body. Regardless, he continued thinking about closing the door. As a result, the doors shut, and the monster unwillingly retreated back into the labyrinth.

In summary, just like always, the process of closing the labyrinth’s doors relied on ‘wanting’ to do it. He did nothing else, making even himself feel bewildered. Now, Seo Iju’s frustration made sense to Kim Hayun.

Nevertheless, despite achieving the greatest accomplishment in his seventeen years of life, it provided no tangible benefits.

‘Nobody acknowledges it, and it can’t be added to my academic record. My family is safe, but Mookyeong lost his memories. Teacher and uncle have passed away.’

Of course, it was fortunate that no one knew about his involvement with the door’s opening and closing. Yet, there was also a sense of disappointment due to his anonymity.

‘Maybe it’s because I lost so much, and I yearned for some recognition.’

Hayun gradually slowed down. He felt breathless, panting heavily while clutching his side. Previously, this level of exertion wouldn’t have bothered him, but his physical fitness had significantly declined, likely due to his prolonged hospital stay.

‘I was in the hospital for too long.’

However, if he continued exercising diligently, he would soon regain his strength.

“…..”

Standing still, Hayun bit his lip as he gazed at the location before him. It used to be ‘our home’. Naturally, Seo Iju would loudly claim it as hers, but technically, since they all resided there, referring to it as their home wasn’t incorrect.

The house had already been demolished and cleared away. It contained escape routes underground as well as training facilities. To prevent unauthorized access or potential accidents due to stored items, it was swiftly dismantled and filled in. Since this was Seo Iju and Baek Jinha’s home, the organization might have expedited the process to retrieve any traces of their presence.

Now, only faint remnants of the fence remained visible.

Hayun tapped his foot against these traces, then stood where the main gate used to be. With a deep exhale, he pretended to push through an invisible door, symbolically entering the property.

When visitors entered through the gate, they were greeted first by grape vines climbing over a wire arch above, intertwined with the gate. Among the lush foliage hung clusters of grapes—some quite full, while others bore only three or four berries each.

Before they ripened, Seo Iju would warn them that she’d pick and eat them once ready. On the left side of the yard stood trees such as persimmon, apricot, and cherry, while camellias and azaleas were planted on the right. Various potted flowers adorned the front area.

Despite having numerous plants, Seo Iju’s family wasn’t particularly interested in landscaping. The large yard was due to their training room located underground, leading to a naturally expansive garden. Whenever visitors noticed it, they often gifted one or two potted plants upon subsequent visits. Over time, quite a few accumulated, but only the strongest survived in the flower beds following nature’s law of survival. Nevertheless, Hayun appreciated the presence of these plants in the yard.

Early mornings or when they returned home early, Mookyeong would water the flower beds. Grumbling about no one else caring for the plants, he’d wait until Hayun cautiously approached before spraying him with water from a hose. In response, Hayun would either indignantly yell at Mookyeong or charge towards him. Eventually, both of them would enter the house drenched…

“…..” 

Hayun vigorously wiped his face as tears unexpectedly streamed down. He wasn’t overwhelmed by immense sadness or anger, yet the tears refused to stop. Perhaps due to being preoccupied with wiping away tears, he couldn’t hold back the sudden surge of longing that had been suppressed all this time.

He yearned to see the extraordinary Seo Iju again. Even Baek Jinha, who was often unbearable, stirred his desire to reunite, and then……

‘I miss you terribly.’

Mookyeong, I miss you so much.