DTD 12

“Live ammunition is dangerous.”

When Simeon smoothly deflected the comment, Hyunseong shrugged his shoulders and laughed.

“Haha! I’ve completely misjudged you.”

“…..”

“Mr. Hajae, your boss is actually quite entertaining, hm?”

From the start, Simeon knew. He knew that if he threatened Hyunseong with a gun, Hyunseong would use his ability on the auctioneer. He also knew that the auctioneer would try to grab the gun, which is why Simeon deliberately approached with an unloaded weapon. He turned the situation into a failed suicide attempt and simultaneously rescued the hostage while Hyunseong was caught off guard.

“No, wait. Did I just walk into a trap?”

Unfortunately, no. Even I’d been blatantly deceived by Simeon.

“Now what?”

Hyunseong glared back and forth between Simeon, his forced grin trembling at the corners.

“Are you really going to arrest me?”

“Nope. There are too many hostages here.”

“What…?”

“The guns these guys are holding are loaded with live rounds.”

Simeon nodded toward the special forces stationed in the distance.

“Starting from the left here, we have Hyunsoo Seo, Hongwon Lee, Jootae Cha…”

As Simeon rattled off names unexpectedly, Hyunseong’s expression twisted into a frown.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean? You need names to use your ability, don’t you, Mr. Choi? I’m just kindly providing them.”

Over fifty people. Simeon recited the names of every single one of the agents without stammering once. The longer the naming went on, the darker Hyunseong’s face became. Simeon then gave a light, smug laugh.

“What’s with that expression? I’m giving you hostages. You should be happy.”

Even though he was openly taunting him, Hyunseong clenched his fists, grinding his teeth.

“Come on, hurry. Use your ability.”

“…..”

“Go on.” 

Simeon urged Hyunseong with a voice soft as silk.

But the seconds continued to pass without anything happening. Throughout the prolonged silence, Hyunseong kept his mouth shut. His anxious expression wasn’t something Simeon would just leave alone.

“Or maybe they need something from you? Something personal…”

Simeon leisurely rubbed his chin, his demeanor steeped in confidence.

“Like a taste of your blood, perhaps.”

Wait. …His blood? Could that be what they found in the drink…?

‘That day was unusually hot. The new hire suggested we offer cold drinks to the transport team when they arrived…’

‘Did you have some?’

‘That’s disappointing. I had it specially prepared.’

What seemed like a coincidence turned out to be the key clue. That’s why the 12 members of the transport team who visited CEO Choi’s villa, as well as the 300 customers and employees at the auction house, had all fallen under his control without anyone suspecting anything.

The condition to control minds was drinking Hyunseong’s blood.

“Someone finally figured it out.”

Hyunseong forced a smile, but cold sweat poured from his face like rain. It was no wonder—he no longer had any hostages to use as shields. And now that his secret was exposed, there was no need for him to hold back.

In an instant, he lost control of the game, crumbling helplessly.

“Don’t come any closer.”

Hyunseong swung a blood-stained knife toward us as he backed away.

“Even if you capture me, there’s nothing in it for you.”

“…”

“You don’t even have a personal grudge against me, right?”

“…”

“Isn’t this about my father? How much did he offer you? I—I’ll give you more than that.”

Simeon paid no attention, continuing to stride toward him. His black figure looked like a lion about to claim its prey. As Hyunseong’s eyes darted around, something suddenly dawned on him. 

“Ah. Is it because of this?”

Hyunseong pulled <Amrita> out of his jacket pocket. The golden glass bottle sparkled brilliantly in the sunlight. As Simeon stopped in place, Hyunseong’s lips twitched, muttering to himself.

“Why is everyone so concerned about this stupid artifact?”

As Simeon moved closer again, Hyunseong raised <Amrita> toward the crack and shouted.

“Don’t move! I’ll throw this into the rift if you come any closer.”

What’s with that confidence? Would <Amrita> instantly disintegrate if it entered the rift? Without having all the details, I couldn’t make a hasty move. Just then, Simeon quietly took a step forward.

“You think I’m bluffing?”

At that moment, I hurriedly grabbed Simeon’s arm.

“Wait. What if we really lose <Amrita>?”

Simeon’s masked face turned toward me. I couldn’t see any expression. What was he thinking? Even though he was an ally, I couldn’t read his thoughts at all. 

Hyunseong retreated closer to the rift.

What do we do? Approaching him wasn’t an option, but not approaching wasn’t either. Either way, he’ll throw <Amrita> into the rift. 

<Amrita> could be the final key to completing <Divine Comedy>… No, I can’t lose it like this.

“Mr. Hyunseong. Let’s make a deal.”

Hyunseong laughed at my outburst.

“Now? After you deceived me?”

His face twisted hideously as he yelled. We’d already cornered him at the edge of a cliff—any further persuasion would fall on deaf ears. Still, it was worth a shot.

“We can arrange for you to meet your father, so…”

Before I could finish, Simeon gripped my shoulder tightly as if to silence me.

Why? I frowned, mouthing the question, but Simeon turned toward the rift instead of answering. When I followed his gaze, I finally noticed it.

A strange light emanated from the rift.

“What is that…?”

It wasn’t an illusion. Something was emerging from the tear in space.

“Mr. Hyunseong.”

“It’s no use.”

“No, behind you!”

Hyunseong belatedly turned to look at the rift. But it was already too late.

“Argh…!”

A pair of antler-like horns pierced through Hyunseong’s stomach and bright red blood started spurting from his gaping mouth. Then, the horns flicked Hyunseong’s body, tossing him into the air like a rag doll and sending him flying. 

Thud—. 

His limp body collapsed, and blood began to pool around him quickly.

The two horns that had pierced him—no, the mandibles resembling those of a stag beetle—were all too familiar.

“Arachne…!”

The eight legs that clawed their way out of the rift thrashed wildly. Special forces immediately opened fire on the creature, but not a single bullet penetrated its tough shell. The bullets only provoked it.

There was no time to hesitate. I dug my fingers into the wound on my neck, forcing it open to draw blood, and whispered.

“Mujeong.”

In an instant, red consumed my vision.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but by the time I regained my senses, rather than blood, it was green fluid staining my hands. 

Thanks to my experience in Myeong-dong, dealing with the creature wasn’t difficult. But the expensive dress shirt I bought was once again drenched in slime.

“Ugh… again?”

An annoying voice sounded as I wiped the sticky fluid from my face with the back of my hand.

“Master, it has been a while. Have you been well?”

Glancing to my side, I saw a man wearing a mask with four eyes, slightly bowing his head.

“So you are here.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You were so quiet, I thought you’d disappeared.”

Clicking my tongue, Mujeong waved his arms theatrically as he approached me.

“Of course not, Master. I thought if I stayed quiet, you would miss me.”

“…You’re still spouting nonsense, I see.”

I let out a long sigh, suddenly remembering the current situation. I quickly turned my head—Hyunseong was still lying on the ground. No way… Just as I feared, his shoulder twitched. Even after being impaled by Arachne’s horns, he was still alive.

“…Impressive.”

“The more wicked something is, the harder it is to kill.”

“Just like you, right?”

“Master, I am hurt that you would say such a thing.”

I scoffed, donning my mask as I turned back toward Hyunseong. As I moved to approach him, someone reached him before I could—Simeon. A black shadow loomed over Hyunseong as he started to crawl across the ground, dragging one arm.

“No… Not yet…”

But in the end, Hyunseong lost his grip on <Amrita>. It rolled quietly across the floor, stopping against a black shoe. The moment he saw who the shoe belonged to, Hyunseong’s face filled with despair.

“Please…”

Simeon quietly looked down at <Amrita> before lifting his foot as if to take a step. Then, without hesitation, he crushed <Amrita> beneath his shoe. 

Crack—. 

The glass shattered, and the red liquid inside spilled out, mixing with the blood that had already soaked the floor. Even as I witnessed the scene with my own eyes, I couldn’t believe it.

“This… can’t be happening.”

Simeone had destroyed a spirit item…

No, a spirit object couldn’t break that easily. Then that means…

“It was fake…?”

When did Simeon swap out <Amrita> for a fake? I hadn’t noticed an opportunity for him to have done that… Could it have been a fake from the auction until now? Then that’s why Simeon was so calm, even when Hyunseong raged about destroying <Amrita>. He had nothing to lose from the beginning.

“Haha, hahaha!”

Hyunseong laughed so hard his shoulders shook. Or maybe he was sobbing—it was hard to tell.

“You completely played me… You must’ve found this all hilarious…”

“I did have fun, thanks to you.”

Simeon lightly kicked aside a piece of glass with his foot. The dust from his kick flew into Hyunseong’s face, but Hyunseong didn’t cough or rub his eyes. He lay still as if he no longer had the strength to move.

“Any last words?”

Simeon’s icy voice left no room for mercy. Hyunseong clenched his fist quietly. I thought he’d leave a message for his father, but the words that came from his blood-crusted lips were surprising.

“…B-Basement… look in the basement…”

What? 

Hyunseong reached out toward Simeon’s feet, but his deathly pale fingers fell short and crumpled to the ground before even touching him.

It was over. The reign of the tyrant king, who’d taken hostages and boasted so arrogantly, had ended abruptly. Covered in dirt and blood, Hyunseong was a pitiful shadow of the man who’d held sway over the crowd from the stage. Soon, the waiting soldiers came forward to retrieve the body.

“Let’s go back.”

Despite Simeon’s words, I stood there in a daze. There was no reason to stay, but I couldn’t move for some reason. What was this feeling? The person I’d just been talking to was dead. It didn’t feel real.

Everyone else left, but I continued to stand there alone in front of the fissure. Eventually, it started to rain. The smell of wet earth overtook the thick scent of blood as the rain diluted the pools of red. I stood there, hoping the downpour would wash away the strange emotions stirring inside me.

The raindrops coming down on me stopped. An umbrella was over my head.

“Are you doing ok?”

It was as if he could see right through me, and the words came out naturally.

“How are the people at the auction house?”

“Matteo sent word. Everyone’s safe.”

“Thank goodness…”

I tightly closed my eyes. The sound of the rain pouring down seemed even louder.

“When did you switch <Amrita> for a fake?”

“The moment we moved it out of the bank vault.”

“Then where’s the real one?”

I turned my head to see Simeon pulling a glass bottle from the inner pocket of his jacket. Seeing <Amrita> in perfect condition, I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. I wouldn’t have been so anxious if I’d known Hyunseong’s <Amrita> was a fake.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“No one else knew besides me.”

“But why? You could have told me, at least.”

“You also had to believe <Amrita> was real so that we could fool Hyunseong.”

I was at a loss for words. As I stared at him with my mouth shut, Simeon frowned slightly.

“Are you upset with me?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

I averted my eyes without answering. Staring at the spot where Hyunseong had fallen for a while, Simeon asked,

“Do you pity him? That man?”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Then why are you standing here?”

“I don’t know… It’s just…”

Everything felt meaningless. Hyunseong, who committed a crime to try and get his father’s attention, the victims he sacrificed, and Hyunseong’s father, who continues to hide, pretending to be ignorant about it all… Yes. Even though we now had <Amrita>, my heart still felt heavy because of that.

In the end, everything went according to CEO Choi’s plan.

“Let’s get back. You’ll catch a cold.”

Reluctantly, I left the scene. And for the next two days, the world was filled with noise.

14 killed. 5 injured. The death of the notorious criminal who’d committed vicious crimes with his abilities was widely reported. Hyunseong’s father was personally informed of his son’s death. A reply came within minutes.

[Good job.]

The brevity of the message made me laugh.

What was the “good job” for? For protecting <Amrita>? Or for carrying out his wish for his son to die? I couldn’t say. I was simply appalled that only after Hyunseong’s death did his father finally acknowledge him as his son.

Maybe that’s why. When the detective asked me to testify as a witness and hostage, I agreed willingly. Simeon had said it wasn’t necessary, that it would only be a hassle, but I wanted to do it. I told the detective everything Hyunseong had confided in me.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

“No, it was the least I could do.”

Despite everything, they said Hyunseong’s father was not being charged with any crime. They claimed there was no concrete evidence of domestic abuse. 

There was nothing more I could do, so I should now be able to wash my hands of this case and move on.

“Excuse me.”

But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

“There’s something Hyunseong said right before he died. It’s been bothering me.”

“What did he say?”

I didn’t sympathize with Hyunseong; I just couldn’t stand the thought of Hyunseong’s father living out his life in peace. Maybe this was just me being capricious, but…

“You know that villa in Hongcheon? The one Hyunseong’s father owns?”

“Yes, I know it.”

“Did you search the basement?”

“We didn’t search it, but we got a statement from one of the employees working there. Why?”

“If possible, could you investigate the basement of that villa?”

“The basement…?”

The detective’s voice sounded hesitant.

“Hmm… I suppose I can look into it.”

A few days later, the news broke out on a grand scale.

<[The skeletal remains of a woman have been found in the basement of a villa owned by former CEO Kyunghyun Choi. Authorities are currently trying to identify her…>

I knew instinctively who she was and why Hyunseong had made that dying confession.

When that story broke, they arrested CEO Choi. The truth about their relationship came to light, and the media tore into them, exposing the dirty secrets of a chaebol family. 

One cable news network even hosted a panel discussion with so-called ‘experts’ debating the matter.

“If the parents are messed up, the children will probably be too. It’s genetic, I’m telling you. We need a law to monitor children born to criminal parents from an early age…”

What a load of nonsense. I was about to turn off the live broadcast when a voice startled me from behind.

“What are you watching?”

I jumped, turning around hastily to see Simeon looking down at me. I quickly turned off the video and set my phone on the table.

“Oh, when did you come in? You should’ve knocked.”

“I did. But you didn’t respond, and I could hear voices, so…”

“Ah…”

Was the volume up too loud? I sighed deeply, and Simeon suddenly spoke.

“Do you agree with that?”

“Hm? What do you mean…?”

His dark eyes shifted towards my phone. He must’ve heard what the people on the panel were saying. I was about to dismiss it as nonsense, but his expression was too serious for me to brush it off. So I answered sincerely.

“Regardless of how they feel about it, kids grow up watching their parents, so they’re bound to be influenced in some capacity.”

Simeon’s gaze lowered, and his eyes blinked rapidly as he frowned. Worried he might be misunderstanding me, I quickly continued.

“But it’s just an influence, one of many.”

When you work in an orphanage, you see all kinds of parents, some worse than animals. The ones who send their kids to the orphanage because they can’t afford to raise them are the better ones. Many are worse, abusing their children despite how small and helpless they are. But I’ve also seen plenty of kids grow up fine, even with horrible parents.

“Even kids born to terrible parents can turn out okay.”

At least the kids in our orphanage did. Maybe they were lucky to meet good adults after escaping their parents, but in the end, the kids decided to grow up well. They made an effort not to follow in their parents’ footsteps.

“They have to work so hard to escape their parents’ shadows, so it must be frustrating to hear that ‘like parent, like child’ nonsense. It’s not like they chose their parents.”

A heavy silence filled the room. Maybe I’d taken the question too seriously. Feeling awkward, I laughed and tried to wrap it up.

“What I’m trying to say is…”

“Thank you.”

“What?”

Simeon said nothing. His face was distorted for some reason, but I couldn’t press him further. I just stared blankly at the person leaving the room. Soon, it dawned on me.

He, too, was a child born to trash parents.

****

I quietly closed my eyes and immediately sensed movement beside me.

“What are you doing, Master?”

“Throwing a long-overdue tantrum to ask for what I want.”

“To whom?”

“To someone or something I hope actually exists.”

I slowly opened my eyes and saw the glass bottle on the table before me. Simon had left <Amrita> with me.

“If this is what we’ve been looking for, my heart will finally be at ease, even if just a little.”

Just as I was about to reach for <Amrita>, Mujeong suddenly blocked my way.

“Is this it, Master? A way that you will not have to die?”

“No, not a chance.”

I let out a small laugh without realizing it.

“You said you saw my memories, right? Then you should already know.”

As I raised my head, my eyes met Mujeong’s. He’d taken off his mask for once, revealing a face I hadn’t seen in a while but was somehow glad to see. His expression was unusually serious, causing the corner of my mouth to twitch.

“There’s no way to avoid death.”

“Master.”

“This is… the last way to protect him.”

Looking up quietly, Mujeong stepped aside without a word. I took a deep breath, enough to make my chest rise and fall, and grabbed <Amrita>. As if waiting for that moment, familiar text appeared before my eyes.

[Activating ‘Pioneer of the Unknown ( ).’]

[Would you like to view the awakening conditions for the spirit object ‘Amrita’?]

My mouth went dry. What if this isn’t it, either? Will there be enough time to search again?

An endless stream of worries flooded my mind, and I couldn’t bring myself to check the conditions. 

At that moment, Mujeong placed a hand on my shoulder. Feeling the quiet warmth seep through, I took a steadying breath, squeezed my eyes shut, and opened them again. One by one, the words began to appear.

[On the night of a full moon, illuminate the sinner in the waterscape that embraces the moon.]

Ah, it was the same condition that <Blue Hope> had. If that’s the case, then this must be…

“…We found it.”

It was the last spirit item needed to complete <Divine Comedy>.

Suddenly, a smile broke out on my face. I couldn’t be more thankful to have been able to complete <Divine Comedy> before I died. Strangely, I felt my eyes fill with tears, blurring my vision. I wiped them away, and Mujeong frowned slightly and shook his head.

“You are probably the only one who would cry tears of happiness, even as you face imminent death.”

“…You think so?”

I let out a bitter smile and tightly gripped the glass bottle.

“But anyone would feel the same way.”

These tears weren’t solely from the relief of being able to save Sang. It wasn’t that I was now afraid of death or reluctant to leave. The primary reason was that I felt a deep, profound sense of liberation, freedom from the guilt of possibly passing a curse onto the person I hold dearest. 

As I was about to leave the room, Mujeong again blocked my path.

“Where are you going?”

“Simeon is waiting outside. I have to tell him the conditions now that I’ve seen them.”

“…Looking like that?”

“What?”

Without a word, Mujeong tapped the area underneath his eyes with his index finger. I wiped my eyes again and felt the leftover warm moisture on my fingers. I awkwardly laughed and looked at Mujeong.

“Can you… tell?”

“Yes. With no shadow of a doubt.”

I should’ve just let the tears dry naturally. No one had been watching, and no one had scolded me for crying; why did I have to rub my eyes until they turned red? 

It would’ve been better to wait until the redness calmed down, but I was worried Simeon might grow suspicious if I took too long. I furiously fanned my eyes briefly before dropping my arms and muttering to myself.

“If he asks, I’ll just say I yawned.”

Mujeong snorted in disbelief.

“The Second Lord will not believe that for a second.”

“Should I say I cried because of you then?”

“…What?”

Though I was half-joking, seeing Mujeong freeze like stone made me want to tease him even more. I pretended to walk past him, but he quickly stepped in my path again, raising his hands.

“Wait, Master! If you say that, the Second Lord will send me to an early grave.”

“You’re already dead. What’s there to fear?”

“Oh, my. How can you say such hurtful things so casually?”

“Why? Don’t you like that sort of thing, being treated harshly and all that?”

“This and that are different matters.”

His odd seriousness made me burst into laughter again.

“A sword with so many complaints. Really.”

Contrary to my expectation that Mujeong would snap back immediately, he remained quiet. When I looked up, I found him staring down at my face. His lips were pressed together as though he wanted to speak.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You look better when you smile, Master.”

“…Is that so?”

When I smiled back at him, Mujeong pursed his lips again. His dark red eyes studied my face carefully for a moment before he averted his gaze. Mujeong cleared his throat and furrowed his brow slightly.

“Just earlier, you truly looked like a rat that had ingested medicine with how red your eyes were.”

“Ha.”

“The owner of <Bloodletting Sword> should not show tears so easily.”

He’d mentioned once before how previous owners had been more resolute, implying my resolve was lacking. And now here he was, doing it again.

I clicked my tongue and squinted at him.

“Being the owner really isn’t easy.”

“Indeed.”

“I only have five months left to play the role of ‘owner.’ Can’t you cut me some slack?”

I playfully wiggled my lips and shrugged.

“I was even planning to wish that you find a good new master after I die peacefully.”

The moment I finished speaking, the smile faded from Mujeong’s face.

“Do you… really have no will to live, Master?”

His reaction caught me off guard. Mujeong had always known I was going to die, and I thought he’d become indifferent to parting after facing the death of his owners so many times. Yet, the darkly distorted expression on his face didn’t resemble that of a ruthless sword ghost who’d taken the lives of countless people.

The atmosphere was too heavy to joke around anymore, so I mumbled bitterly.

“I used to.”

“Then, why now…?”

“Who knows? Maybe I can’t endure the constant disappointments anymore…”

I spoke as if it were someone else’s concern, and Mujeong said nothing further. He didn’t block my path this time, either. When I finally reached the door, I took a quiet breath and opened it with a composed smile. As expected, Simeon was there waiting.

“Sorry for taking so long. I guess I was a little nervous.”

“It’s fine. But…”

Simeon’s gaze passed over me and fixed on something inside the room.

“Why is he here?”

Turning around, I saw Mujeong standing by the table with his arms crossed, right beside the bottle of <Amrita>.

He’d said earlier that if Simeon thought it was him who’d made me cry, he’d be a dead man. And yet, even though Simeon openly showed his displeasure, Mujeong was still standing there. In his shameless defiance, Mujeong didn’t even bother to hide behind his mask.

“Is it not the duty of a servant to remain by their master’s side?”

Simeon’s sharp eyebrows twitched. A strange silence hung in the air, so I instinctively stepped between them.

“Simeon.”

When I grabbed his arm and pulled, Simeon followed obediently. We walked over to the table where I’d placed <Amrita>, and I took a deep breath, feeling somewhat tense. Simeon seemed slightly nervous, too, as if knowing what I was about to say.

After a moment of silence, I finally spoke.

“I saw the same conditions in <Amrita> as I did in <Blue Hope>.”

“Then…”

Instead of replying, I nodded, and Simeon took <Amrita> into his hands, his expression unreadable.

What was that…? When we discovered that <Blue Hope> was one of the items we needed, didn’t he celebrate that we completed another page of <Divine Comedy>? I thought he’d be even more excited now that it was finally complete, but his lips didn’t even twitch. 

The atmosphere felt strange, so I clapped my hands together and changed the subject.

“Back then, I really thought we were going to lose it.”

I laughed awkwardly, but a sudden thought came to mind.

“By the way, what Hyunseong said about destroying spiritual objects… Was that just nonsense?”

“No, what he said was true. Although it’s difficult.”

I found it hard to believe that something as flawless as a spiritual object could have an end. I was about to ask how it was possible, but then I wondered if it was okay for Mujeong to hear.

Glancing at him, I noticed he was looking at me curiously.

“Wait, why are you looking at me?”

“No reason…”

“You surely are not planning to get rid of me, Master?”

“Of course not.”

Refusing to entertain Mujeong’s misunderstanding further, I turned back to Simeon and spoke.

“So, how does it work?”

“If two spiritual objects with exactly the same power collide, it can happen.”

“…How does that even work?”

“I heard it’s a one-in-a-million chance.”

One-in-a-million chance. Isn’t there a word for that?

“So, a miracle.”

“I mean, it’s not zero percent.”

“Is there another way?”

Simeon stared at <Amrita> silently for a moment before speaking.

“If you dissolve it in the rift of a stronger spiritual item.”

“Dissolve…?”

“It would be like throwing a small object into a furnace, leaving no trace behind.”

I’d heard that after 72 hours in a rift, the human body disintegrates, leaving only the consciousness. So, it seemed like even spiritual objects could lose their form and disintegrate when placed inside the rift of a spirit that was stronger.

Just as I was marveling at this new information, Mujeong suddenly let out a sigh next to me.

“What is it?”

“It seems I will not be disappearing then.”

So that’s what he was still worried about.

It was true that Mujeong wouldn’t disappear. <Bloodletting Sword> was an S-class spirit, so finding a stronger spiritual object would be nearly impossible. Unless <Bloodletting Sword> collided with another spiritual item. It would be easy for it to destroy something like the A-class <Amrita> then.

“Wait, wasn’t that rift in Namsan an A-class?”

“Yes.”

“Then <Amrita> wouldn’t have been destroyed if it went in there anyway…?”

Simeon slowly closed and opened his eyes.

Now I understood why Simeon had been so willing to guide us to the rift on Namsan. <Amrita> wouldn’t have been affected, even if it entered. On top of that, Hyunseong, knowing only part of the truth, had fallen into Simeon’s trap. The outcome was decided from the start.

“Huh…”

Even though it wasn’t me who’d been caught in the intricately woven trap, I felt a strange tingling sensation at the back of my head. But I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.

“When’s the next full moon?”

“One week from now.”

“Oh, that’s not far off.”

When we perform the ritual under the full moon in a week’s time, <Divine Comedy> will finally be complete. Just imagining that day made my heart race. I placed my hand on Simeon’s shoulder. He’d likely been waiting for this longer than anyone, and I smiled brightly, hoping to convey my sincerity.

“Congratulations, Simeon.”

“…What?”

“The dream you’ve been chasing for so long is finally coming true.”

I clearly remember what Simeon once expressed as his wish.

‘I’m gonna go back to the time before I got attached to that person and send my past self somewhere far away.’

With <Divine Comedy>’s power, he’ll return to the past and sever our connection, and the shadow that’d long tormented him would vanish. At the same time, the emotions I’d buried deep in my heart since becoming an adult would sink deeper into the swamp.

“Soon, you’ll be free from that person.”

And we would become total strangers.

Simeon quietly looked at me and lowered his gaze.

“You seem more excited than I am.”

“What? Oh… well, it’s a good thing, right?”

“A good thing…” 

Simeon muttered to himself with a hardened expression. 

I blankly watched as he left the room, taking <Amrita> with him. His reaction seemed a bit strange, but I shrugged it off. When you suddenly achieve a long-held dream, it’s not unusual to feel a bit out of it, right?

After our interaction, Simeon disappeared for a few days, but I didn’t think much of it. I assumed he was just busy as usual. I was sure he’d re-appear within the next three days since that marked the start of the lunar full moon—the day we could extract the last page of <Divine Comedy>.

But it was strange. Despite the large and beautiful full moon, Simeon didn’t come to the ark that night. I waited alone on the rooftop until dawn and then finally sent him a message.

[Where are you?]

By morning, there was still no reply. Simeon didn’t answer his phone when I called either. That’s when I began to feel something was off.

“Have you seen Simeon by any chance?”

When I asked the staff, no one seemed to know where he was. Still, there was one checkpoint everyone had to pass when leaving the ark: the door. If Noah was managing it, I was sure he’d know where Simeon had gone.

I went straight to him and asked, but…

“Oh? He left through that door, but I haven’t seen him return yet.”

“Where did he go?”

“Not sure. I try to respect everyone’s privacy, so I don’t usually keep track of exact locations.”

I couldn’t find any answers.

“He’ll be back on his own. He’s not a kid, you know. Don’t worry too much.”

The funny thing was that, in this massive ark, I was the only one concerned about Simeon’s well-being. Everyone I asked would answer the same way: ‘The guild leader doesn’t like anyone to contact him outside of work,’ or, ‘He leaves for long periods quite often’.

And so, ten days passed.

“Mmm.” 

I rolled over in bed, on the edge of consciousness. Was it morning? 

Just as I squinted one eye open at the sunlight spilling into the room, I saw a face I wasn’t expecting.

“H-Huh…?”

Why was Simeon lying on my bed? And right next to me, no less. I was so startled I couldn’t even form a sentence. 

Still half-asleep, I squinted at him before a realization came over me. 

I sighed deeply.

“It’s just you….”

Only one person I knew would pull a prank like this.

“I told you not to get on my bed.”

“…..”

“I really thought you were Simeon.”

I clicked my tongue, pulled the blanket back over my head, and turned away. I was about to drift back to sleep when I noticed something strange.

Mujeong was usually quick to respond to my comments, if not with a joke, then at least with feigned disappointment. However, the room was far too quiet. My spine stiffened as I abruptly opened my eyes. 

No way… As I cautiously lowered the blanket, I met a pair of dark, pitch-black eyes.

“You… no, what are you…?”

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and looked again. He was lying there, wearing a shirt instead of a jacket. Right. He wasn’t Mujeong—it was the real thing. Realizing that, I clamped a hand over my gaping mouth and shot up.

“Why… why are you here?”

I pressed myself back against the headboard like I’d seen a ghost. 

Was my reaction funny? Simeon gave a slight smile as he sat up. But he stayed silent, so I thought he might be a hallucination and tossed a pillow at him.

The pillow thudded against his firm chest and fell onto the bed.

“Whoa…”

“What is this? Are you throwing a tantrum?”

“No, it’s not that…”

As I picked the pillow back up and put it aside, Simeon narrowed his eyes.

“No matter how sleepy you were, how could you mistake me for that guy?”

I had no excuse. 

“Sorry.” 

I mumbled and gave him an awkward smile. Simeon responded with a low sigh.

“Thanks to you, this is the first time I’m grateful to my parents.”

“What for?”

“The fact they didn’t give me a twin.”

Wow. I muttered another apology, but there was more I wanted to say. I threw off the blanket, sat closer to Simeon, and spoke.

“Where have you been all this time?”

“I had somewhere I needed to go.”

“Do you know how worried I was? You didn’t answer my calls or messages.”

A wave of exhaustion washed over me as I pressed my thumb against my closed eyes.

“Is it that hard to just leave a message saying you’re going somewhere?”

“No.”

“Then why…?”

“I was just curious how it felt to disappear without a word.”

My hand froze. I opened my eyes and saw Simeon’s dark gaze fixed on me. Seeing my face reflected in those eyes, I belatedly realized how thoughtless my words were. 

‘Is it that hard to just leave a message…?’ 

Of all people, I was the last person who should be saying that.

“It’s surprisingly easy. Just letting go and running away from it all.”

As I watched his strangely lighthearted expression, I bit my lip.

“Fine, but you should’ve at least shown up that night then.”

“When?”

“On the full moon. I waited on the rooftop, and you didn’t even…”

No, I should stop. There’s no point in saying more. He’s back, and that’s enough.

“Anyway, did you finish <Divine Comedy>?”

I regretted that he hadn’t been there to share the long-awaited moment with me, but I’d be satisfied if he’d completed it. However, Simeon’s gaze shifted toward the sea outside the window.

“…I forgot.”

“What?”

“I was so busy I lost track of the date.”

That was obviously a lie. Someone who’d dedicated years to completing <Divine Comedy> would never have forgotten an upcoming full moon. Especially not when it was the day to complete the final page… He was definitely hiding something from me.

“Simeon, is something wrong?”

Usually, he’d be staring at me with a sharp intensity, but his gaze stayed fixed on the sea. He simply watched the sunlight shimmering on the waves for a long while.

Finally, he spoke softly as if it were the sea he was addressing.

“Are you free today?”

“I…”

“Even if you aren’t, tell me you are.”

Only then did he look back at me. Though he was smiling, his eyes held a strange anxiety that made me furrow my brows.

“What’s going on?”

“I want you to come with me somewhere.”

“…Sure. I’ll get ready.”

I quickly nodded and got out of bed. Simeon took my hand.

“Wear something formal.”

“Like a suit?”

It wasn’t an unreasonable request, but… I glanced at the wardrobe and spoke.

“I threw it out, remember? It got so ruined that time with Arachne that I couldn’t keep it.”

“You have another one.”

“I do?”

I tilted my head, unsure, as Simeon gestured toward another wardrobe.

“Have you not opened that wardrobe?”

“Huh?…Oh, no.”

Since I hadn’t felt the need for two wardrobes, I never bothered to even look inside the other one. 

“Open it.” Simeon urged before leaving the room so I could wash.

I took a quick shower and returned to my room. I found an elegant navy suit with a luxurious cover when I opened the second wardrobe. It fit me perfectly.

As I left the room, Simeon, who’d been leaning against the wall, gave me a slight smile.

“It suits you well.”

“…Thanks.”

Feeling oddly self-conscious, I scratched the back of my neck and averted my eyes.

“How did you find a suit with such a perfect fit? It’s like it was custom-made.”

Off-the-rack suits sometimes had issues with sleeve length or lapel fit, but this one was flawless. Adjusting my collar, I couldn’t stop admiring it as Simeon stepped closer and adjusted my tie.

“I had it tailored, using your exact measurements.”

My measurements? I didn’t recall ever giving him those. Not to mention, I didn’t even know my own arm length or shoulder width.

“How do you… know my measurements?”

“Hmm… intuition?”

That made no sense. You couldn’t eyeball a fit like this.

But looking at his smiling face, I couldn’t bring myself to push it further. I shot him a suspicious look, but he only continued to adjust my tie. 

Then, satisfied, he spoke.

“Let’s go.”

Before I could ask where we were headed, Simeon unlocked the door. On the other side was a familiar place. It was the break room of the flower shop I’d passed out in after my tea was drugged. As we stepped out of the break room together, Yulia, who was watering plants, widened her eyes slightly.

“Oh, welcome, you two.”

Yulia set down the watering can and approached us.

“Sir, what brings you here?”

“I came to buy flowers.”

What else would you do in a flower shop? While it seemed obvious, Yulia’s reaction was odd. She glanced over at the calendar on the counter and mumbled to herself.

“Ah, it’s already…”

Hm? I didn’t know what they were inferring, so I stood quietly and waited. As I gazed at the various flowers in the showcase, Simeon came over to me and spoke.

“Which flower is the prettiest?”

“Are you asking me?”

He blinked, nodding as if it were the most natural thing. Not knowing who or what the flowers were for, I stared at the display momentarily before pointing to a flower that most people would have probably found pretty, regardless of taste.

“Hm, oh… this one?”

The fully bloomed white flower was remarkably beautiful. I had thought it was a rose, but the sign read lisianthus. Without any hesitation, Simeon spoke to Yulia.

“We’ll take this one, please.”

“Yes, sir.”

White bouquet in hand, Simeon and I returned to the ark. I thought we’d finished our business, but then he unlocked a door leading to yet another place. The room he stepped into was one I could never forget, no matter how hard I tried.

It was Jeongdong Cathedral where everything had begun.

The endless stretch of sea. The steep cliffs eroded by waves. A cathedral stood alone, enduring the rough sea winds. Ever since I’d first come here, holding my father’s hand as a child, I’d been captivated by this beautiful landscape. Perhaps that’s why Jeongdong Cathedral would sometimes appear in my dreams, even after leaving this place. I’d always thought that even if I returned, it would feel like nothing more than another dream.

But there it was, right in front of me. The damp wind hit my skin. As I breathed in, the scent of grass from the hills behind and the sea filled my senses. It was distinct from the scent that lingered in the ark. The past I’d dismissed as mere dreams and illusions had come alive.

“This place…”

But I couldn’t show any hint of nostalgia. Ever since I abandoned my life as Johan, I was an outsider here.

“I saw this place on TV a long time ago.”

I gazed up at the spire with shining eyes, as if I were just a tourist, and Simeon, who had been walking ahead, paused.

“…Did you?”

“They once did a feature about a cathedral on a cliff by the sea.”

It was a travel program. I remember how shocked I was when I saw that familiar landscape, the one I thought I’d never see again, on the screen. I’d watched that broadcast several times whenever I was overwhelmed with longing, even though I knew it was pointless.

“Seeing it in person, the view is even better. You can see the sea so clearly.”

I deliberately moved closer to Simeon, looking directly into his eyes as I smiled brightly.

If he was suspicious that I was Johan, if he’d brought me here to Jeongdong Cathedral without a word just to see my reaction, to test me—well, I wanted to make it clear that such efforts would be pointless. But his response was unexpected.

“Did they show the sunset, too? On that broadcast?”

“Pardon? Oh, no, they didn’t…”

“That’s a pity. It’s the most beautiful at sunset.”

Simeon murmured almost to himself, then continued walking toward the cliff.

Was he not trying to test me? Uncertain of his intentions, I followed closely behind and asked.

“So, why did you come here all of a sudden?”

“Because I wanted to come back.”

Simeon glanced at the sea and then slightly adjusted his words.

“Well, I wondered if I’d want to come back.”

The vague answer only raised more questions. I looked at his profile, and he reluctantly continued, though it wasn’t the explanation I had hoped for.

“I lived here after my parents passed away… It’s also where I first met him.”

Eventually, his steps stopped. We were at the edge of the cliff. This was the very spot where I used to sit precariously whenever my mind was full. Simeon placed a bouquet of white lisianthus flowers there. It looked like he was paying tribute to someone lost at sea, but I knew that wasn’t the case.

After all, Simeon didn’t believe Johan was dead.

“Why the flowers?”

He likely sensed my probing, but he answered candidly.

“Today’s his birthday.”

“Oh… really?”

That wasn’t true. I barely held back the words that almost escaped me. Afraid my drawn-out response would make him suspicious, I nudged his arm playfully with my elbow.

“A flower bouquet as a birthday gift, huh? You have a surprisingly pure side.”

Simeon looked down at the blooming flowers with a slight, bitter smile.

“I don’t know what he liked. When that’s the case, Yulia said it’s best to give flowers.”

For a moment, I was at a loss for words.

“He never told me anything. Not his real name, not his hometown… not even his birthday.”

The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth showed a hint of self-mockery.

“So, I just chose a birthday for him.”

I stood there, dazed, before I found my voice again.

“Why did you pick today?”

“Today was daeseo that year. The hottest day of summer.”

After silently lowering his eyes for a moment, Simeon murmured softly.

“And he was like summer.”

Silence quickly engulfed the cliff as the sound of waves crashed against it. The hot sunlight bore down on us, but I didn’t feel the heat. My body only grew colder.

I’d never expected he’d mark a birthday I never even shared with him. And it somehow felt as though he’d commemorated it every year since we parted, as if he hadn’t missed a single year. I didn’t know how to cope with this guilt.

“I…”

I was about to place my hand on his shoulder, which seemed uncharacteristically lonely, when—

“Sang-ah.”

Startled by the familiar way his name was called, I turned to see an all-too-familiar face.

“Good morning, Father.”

It was Father Peter, who had always cared for me like a father. Not even ten years had passed, yet his face was now deeply wrinkled, and his hair had turned white from the years spent running the orphanage. But his Roman collar and black shirt were as neat as ever, no matter the weather.

Perhaps he hadn’t noticed me behind Simeon, as Father Peter began speaking without reserve.

“You weren’t at the morning mass, so I thought you’d left.”

So, Simeon had been here for the past ten days, unreachable. I tried to slip away quietly, sensing I should give them privacy, but Simeon must have noticed. He firmly grasped my wrist, preventing my escape, so I stood there awkwardly, overhearing their conversation.

“I’ve imposed on you for long enough.”

“Don’t be silly. You’re always welcome here if you need comfort. But…”

Father Peter swallowed, as if carefully considering his words, then spoke cautiously.

“But Sang-ah, don’t let yourself drown in sorrow.”

“I’m fine, Father.”

“No.”

His voice was low yet firm.

“You may think you’re good at hiding yourself, but I can see it. I’ve watched over you since you were very young. Do you think I don’t know why you come here every year around this time?”

“….”

“It’s because of Johan, isn’t it?”

At the mention of that name, the cold fingers gripping my wrist trembled.

“I still miss him dearly, too.”

Father Peter placed his hand over his heart, frowning slightly.

“But this won’t bring him back. Johan is surely with our Lord…”

“Father.”

Simeon’s voice cut in, cold and decisive.

“He isn’t dead.”

“Sang-ah, you…”

“He’s not dead.”

Simeon’s black eyes glared at Father Peter with unwavering conviction. Perhaps realizing that further persuasion was pointless, Father Peter’s face darkened as he pursed his lips. The air grew tense. Sensing the weight of their exchange, I took a deep breath and spoke up.

“Hello, Father.”

I stepped forward from behind Simeon, offering a bright smile. Father Peter finally noticed me, his eyes widening.

“Oh dear, I didn’t even realize we had a guest. My eyesight has been failing me lately.”

“Oh, no. I should have introduced myself sooner.”

“Haha, it seems so. Are you a new member of the congregation, perhaps?”

Of course, he didn’t recognize me. There was no reason to feel disappointed; it was only natural. After all, my face, my voice—they’d all changed. I hesitated, glancing at Simeon for help.

“Um… just his coworker.”

“Ah!”

The priest’s once solemn expression visibly brightened.

“Hahaha, so I finally meet one of the illusive coworkers.”

“What…?”

“He never really tells me what he does, you see.”

Father Peter’s gaze held a faint sadness despite his cheerful demeanor.

I could empathize with Simeon’s reluctance to share his work with the priest. Given the man’s age, he probably had no detailed understanding of hunters or guilds, and explaining it must’ve been difficult. But I wanted to offer some reassurance without revealing too much.

“He, uh, does important work keeping people safe from danger. He even rescues people sometimes.”

“Oh, thank the Lord.”

Father Peter made the sign of the cross, his face radiant with gratitude. He stepped forward, taking my hands in his as though in prayer.

“Please, take good care of our Sang-ah… I mean, Simeon.”

“Of course. Leave it to me.”

“With such a reliable friend by his side, I finally feel at ease.”

Father Peter’s beaming face brought back memories.

He used to smile like that every time one of the orphanage kids got into college or brought a fiancé and announced their marriage plans. He must’ve wished, more than anyone, that Sang could’ve grown up just like them.

But I was the one who took that away from him… It was all because of me.

“Why don’t you come inside for tea? We can talk at leisure.”

That thought made it hard to face the priest any longer.

“I’m sorry, but we have work.”

“I see… Well, I won’t keep you. Come by anytime.”

“Thank you, Father. Stay well.”

Father Peter nodded, his face gentle as he watched us depart. He didn’t say goodbye to Simeon, only patted his arm softly before returning to the church.

It felt as though a silent storm had passed. With a weary sigh, I spoke.

“I declined the tea because I thought you’d be uncomfortable, but was that wrong of me?”

There was no response.

“…Simeon?”

Perplexed, I looked up to see him staring down at me, murmuring words I couldn’t understand.

“‘Of course’.”

“Excuse me?”

“‘Just leave it to me’.”

I realized he was echoing the words I had said to the priest, who’d asked me to take good care of Simeon.

“What was wrong with that?”

“I just think it’s impressive how you can say that without even batting an eyelid.”

His tone was dripping with sarcasm, so I shook my head and sighed.

“What else should I have done?”

“What do you mean?”

“Should I have said, ‘Sorry, I can’t guarantee that’? In front of a priest?”

“Yes. If that was how you truly felt, you should have.”

How could I have said something like that? As I frowned, about to argue back, Simeon spoke in a cold voice.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Was I at a loss for words because his words struck a nerve? Or because there was still something in me that could be hurt?

“I meant well…”

“You meant well?”

Simeon let out a small, bitter laugh.

“That kind of petty kindness can be poison to people.”

His sharp words tore at my heart, yet I had no reply. As I stood there in silence, I saw a flicker of regret cross Simeon’s face. But that was all. He turned and walked back to the ark through the cathedral doors, leaving me to stare after him.

It was as if my feet were tied to the cliff, standing there in a daze.

“Master.”

I glanced to the side. A familiar mask-clad figure stood at the edge of the cliff. I didn’t know why he appeared so suddenly, but I thought I should at least be grateful that he’d put on a mask. 

With a deep sigh, I ran a hand down my hardened face.

“Sorry, but could you leave me alone for a bit?”

However, Mujeong stood there silently, lingering for quite some time.

“I’m really not in the mood to put up with your antics right now…”

“Perhaps the second lord was just in a mood.”

The unexpected words made my eyes widen.

“Since when do you offer emotional support?”

I couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the absurdity of it.

“Has the heat affected your mind too?”

I tossed out the joke, but Mujeong responded in an utterly serious tone.

“Because the way Master feels affects me, also. Whether I want it to or not.”

In that instant, the smile that had lingered on my lips froze completely.

Right. I’d forgotten. Ever since Mujeong entered my body, he sometimes shared in my emotions, not just my memories. They say sadness is easily contagious; in the same way, Mujeong seemed more deeply in sync with my negative feelings, like sadness or guilt, rather than my positive feelings.

“…Sorry.”

I murmured in a voice that seemed to shrink into itself. Mujeong shook his head slowly.

“It was likely a remark made without much thought. Pay it no mind.”

Even though I was receiving comfort, there was still a sting in my chest as if a knife had been thrust into it.

“Thank you.”

Because I already knew.

“Thanks to you, I feel a bit better.”

Words spoken in a heated moment aren’t just empty talk. They’re merely the hidden truths that slip out, escaping the filter of reason. But there’s no need to be hurt by them. No, now isn’t the time to be.

‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep.’

‘That kind of petty kindness can be poison to people.’

There wasn’t a single lie in that.

****

It rained for several days without a break. Finally, the monsoon season had come to this isolated island in the middle of the vast sea. Though I liked getting drenched in the rain, for some reason, I didn’t feel like going out, so I spent day and night holed up in the training grounds. 

Thanks to that, I ran into Yulia quite often.

“You’re here again? You are sleeping, right?”

“Of course I am. Go for another round with me?.”

Sparring repeatedly with her, I became much more adept at wielding <Bloodletting Sword>. Along the way, I also became much closer to Mujeong. It’d been quite a while since I last saw Simeon. In all honesty, I’d been avoiding him since that day. I figured that approaching him with a smile, as if nothing had happened, would only provoke him.

So the quiet summer passed, and the full moon of August arrived.

“Jeong-ah. Is it still raining?”

I asked while picking out clothes from the wardrobe.

“Yes, Master.” 

Came the response from the windowed side of the room. I shoved my head through a T-shirt, pushed my arms through, and approached the window. The sky was shrouded in thick clouds, and the rain poured down so hard you couldn’t see the sea.

“Quite a downpour…”

Even the full moon was hidden behind the clouds. <Divine Comedy> was supposed to be completed under the moon’s light, but we’d miss the timing again if this kept up. Clenching my lips, I looked up at the gloomy sky when Mujeong quietly asked.

“Then, are you going to stay here?”

“No, I still have to try.”

As soon as midnight struck, I grabbed an umbrella and headed up to the rooftop. As expected, there was no one there. But I decided to wait anyway. I decided to chalk Simeon’s seeming reluctance to complete <Divine Comedy> up to my imagination.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed like that when, finally, the rooftop door opened.

“Simeon!”

I greeted him with a cheerful smile, like seeing an old friend. Simeon paused as he entered the rooftop.

“You… waited here for me?”

“Oh, it hasn’t been that long.”

“Hasn’t been that long, huh…?”

Simeon quietly lowered his gaze and frowned. Following his eyes, I looked down at myself and saw what he did. Holding the umbrella haphazardly, my shoulders, arms, and parts of my T-shirt were soaked from the rain.

“Well, it feels kind of refreshing.”

I casually brushed off the raindrops, and Simeon’s brows furrowed slightly.

“You’ll catch a cold at this rate.”

“Dogs don’t catch colds; neither will I.”

I cast a sidelong glance and flashed a smile. Simeon sighed deeply. I hurriedly changed the subject because I knew what words he held back behind his tightly pressed lips.

“But right now, there’s no moonlight. What should we do?”

“They said on the forecast that the rain should stop by 1 a.m…”

One in the morning? I checked my watch to see we only had five minutes left.

“…You think this rain will stop in the next five minutes…?”

As I pondered, staring blankly at the sky, Simeon called me.

“Mr. Hajae.”

I turned my head slightly while keeping my gaze skyward. Despite having called me, Simeon said nothing more. He just let out a quiet sigh, not even meeting my eyes.

What is it? Did I do something to irritate him again… ? Is it because I waited in the rain without telling him? I did it because I wanted to, not to try and pressure him. 

Maybe I should’ve sent a message like, ‘I’m on the rooftop.’ Or perhaps I should’ve just said that I like getting rained on.

“What is it…?”

I forced a smile, tentatively reading the atmosphere, when Simeon suddenly lifted his gaze.

“I’m sorry… about the other day.”

“…What?”

“I spoke too harshly.”

I remained frozen, holding the umbrella to my shoulder, chin tilted up. I stood there, mouth slightly open in a daze, unable to close it. 

Simeon frowned.

“What’s that expression?”

I never expected him to apologize. He wasn’t one to regret his actions. It was just so unexpected that I froze, like an elementary school student facing a geometry problem. No, even a kindergartner could manage a question this easy – ‘Choose the appropriate response when someone apologizes after an argument.’

The right answer would be something like, ‘Thank you for apologizing first,’ or, ‘It was partly my fault, too.’

“I’m just… surprised.”

That wasn’t what I wanted to say, but it slipped out before I could stop myself. Simeon simply nodded and lowered his gaze.

“I understand. I’m not asking you to accept my apology.”

“Oh, no, wait. That’s not what I meant.”

I waved my hands quickly, stepping closer, and Simeon tilted his head, his eyes narrowing in confusion. Before things got any more awkward, I decided to be honest. About why I’d become such a foolish person.

“I have this thing… Well, I guess we could say it’s a habit I’ve had since childhood.”

Telling someone about my past for the first time made me nervous, but I spoke each word carefully.

“My mother left when I was seven. I always said I hated her, but in reality, the amount I missed her went so far beyond any of that resentment…. But, every night, I’d throw tantrums, childishly demanding my father bring her back….”

I chuckled bitterly, looking down at the raindrops.

“Every time that happened, my father would read me a story to comfort me. Eventually, I became curious.”

“Curious… about what?”

“About how he never seemed sad. One time, I asked him if he even missed her. But he’d always always brush off any talk of her with a smile, so I never knew. Never realized that he cried secretly in the bathroom every night.”

What I saw through the bathroom door that night has never left my mind. Afraid I’d hear him, my father had stifled his sobs, letting the water run full blast to muffle the sound.

“I think it started then. The small lies I began to tell.”

Recalling that night, I gripped the umbrella handle tightly.

“My father’s smile became more frequent when I stopped mentioning my mother. And seeing him like that… made me so happy.”

I wasn’t much of a good son. I’d put my father through so much, especially with all the hospital visits for my asthma. Once, I’d even hidden a fever spike of 100 degrees, only to end up in the emergency room.

Even after he lectured me until my ears hurt, I kept lying because seeing him sad when I was sick broke my heart. Hiding it didn’t make the illness disappear, but in hindsight, it was foolish.

“I just… wanted everyone around me to always live happily without any worries. Somehow, I couldn’t stand it if things became even a little serious because of me. You know that feeling. Like, if I just stayed quiet, everyone could be happy… I was afraid of breaking that peace.”

I couldn’t bear to look Simeon in the face, so I shifted my gaze to an indistinct spot in the distance.

“I know it’s a bad habit. A person has to be serious sometimes; you can’t live forever with a smile plastered on your face. But… change is hard.”

Even now, I was still smiling, as if this trait of mine was ingrained deep in my bones. But after pouring everything out, I felt a strange sense of relief. Just one step further. I’d be light as a feather if I could say just one more thing.

‘I wonder if, someday if I fell gravely ill, whether I’d keep it a secret until the end.’

Was it ok to say those words now? After hesitating more times than I could count, I swallowed the truth once again.

“I’m sorry. For being like this.”

As I smiled and turned to look at him, I saw Simeon’s face twist with an expression I couldn’t quite place.

A heavy silence fell over us, broken only by the steady thrum of raindrops against the umbrella. Then, almost magically, the rain began to lighten. I slowly folded up my umbrella and looked up at the sky, where a massive full moon was now peeking through the clouds.

“Woah…!”

The rain-washed sky was so clear that the full moon and even the stars shone faintly.

“Simeon. The forecast was right, aftera—”

Just then, an arm brushed past me, grasped my shoulder, and gently pulled me close. Even though my clothes were soaked, Simeon didn’t seem to mind as he held me tightly. A nameless feeling stirred deep within my chest, spreading warmth throughout my entire body.

I shouldn’t return the embrace. I clenched my fists, repeating it to myself over and over. At some point, I even found myself biting down hard. Suddenly, the absurdity of my own reaction struck me, and I closed my eyes tight. And just like that, as if waiting for the moment, tears spilled down my cheeks.

How did a feeling everyone praised for its beauty end up as a sin for me? I doubt I’d ever find the answer.

I stood in his arms, waiting silently for the tears streaming down my cheeks to dry. 

Before long, the dark clouds had completely cleared, and the moon’s brightness filled the sky. In the quiet of the night, even the confusion in my heart calmed, aided by the rhythmic sound of waves crashing.

“Thank you.”

I whispered, and Simeon gently loosened his arms around me. As I pulled back slightly, his face seemed somewhat contorted, as if he’d left something unsaid. But in the end, he chose silence. It was up to me to lift the heavy atmosphere.

“Let’s finish up quickly before it starts raining again.”

As I closed the umbrella, Simeon pulled a book from inside his jacket. The old book, without a single word on the cover, looked as though it might belong in an antique bookstore. There it was, the legendary item among hunters—<Divine Comedy>.

Recalling what it took to awaken the item, I thought back to <Blue Hope>.

‘On the night of a full moon, illuminate the sinner in the waterscape that embraces the moon,’  had been the condition to complete <Divine Comedy>

So, we would need a vessel to hold the water.

“Come to think of it, we don’t have a dish or anything like that. Should I go down and get one?”

Simeon nodded toward one side of the rooftop.

“There’s some water right over there.”

Following his gaze, I saw what he was referring to. There was a puddle of water, filled from the long day of rain. Approaching it, I looked down and saw the full moon reflected perfectly in the still water.

“This should work.”

Simeon quietly nodded as I smiled in satisfaction.

And so, the final ritual began. As Simeon brought <Amrita> close to the water, the moonlight flowed softly, shimmering. It looked like seashells scattered on the shore or a monsoon of tiny ice crystals.

I thought it was fascinating when I first saw it, but now I know better. The particles glistening in the moonlight were, in fact, letters. Simeon immediately opened the blank pages of <Divine Comedy>, holding it reverently as if offering a sacrifice to the heavens, extending it under the moonlight.

[In what manner have I come to wander in such a dark forest? Perhaps it is because I have abandoned the righteous path of the gods.]

As he recited the passage, letters materialized in the air and settled down onto the old pages. 

When <Divine Comedy> was finally complete, the book suddenly rose into the air, releasing a burst of blinding light. Instinctively, I squeezed my eyes shut and lowered my head.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I cautiously opened one eye. And the sight in front of me almost made me scream.

“W-What… on earth…?”

It was the moon. Of course, the moon was present; it was nighttime, after all. But its presence was no longer the tiny spot I’d seen in the sky. Suddenly, the moon was so close to us that it seemed like I could reach out and touch it. The craters and grayish spots on its surface overwhelmed my vision, and I felt smaller than an ant.

Overcome with awe, I broke into a cold sweat.

[Hear me, those who have completed the Forbidden Book.]

A strange voice echoed from somewhere. It was neither male nor female, neither child nor elderly—each voice simply interwoven with the next to the point where hearing it made goosebumps crawl over my skin, like nails scratching a chalkboard. I couldn’t cover my ears. It felt as if my entire body were paralyzed; I couldn’t move even a single finger.

[On the night of the next full moon, the gate to hell shall open. Until the day of Judgement is upon us, you shall be tested.]

The moment the one-sided decree ended, another flash of light burst forth. When I blinked open my eyes again, the moon had returned to its far-off vantage point in the distant sky. In one moment, the moon I longingly gazed at every night had instantly become a source of dread. As I stared blankly at the gray spot above, Simeon gently touched my shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah…”

What in the world just happened? Was it the moon that spoke to us, or was that <Divine Comedy>?

“But what… how will they test us?”

Simeon looked down at the completed <Divine Comedy> in silence. A tense atmosphere lingered.

****

What exactly did <Divine Comedy> mean by “test”? Would monsters suddenly appear? Or would a rift open? The full moon, bright against the night sky, seemed to be watching us, and I couldn’t help but stay awake through the night.

It wasn’t until dawn that I drifted into a light sleep, and when I went out for a walk later in the day, I saw a familiar face.

“Oh, hyung!”

I saw Raphael enthusiastically waving his hands at me as he approached. His bright smile felt like I was running into a puppy on the street, and it instantly lifted my mood. His cheerful greeting was a welcome sight, but upon seeing my expression, Raphael’s brow furrowed.

“Why do you look so exhausted? Are you getting any sleep lately?”

“Oh, well…”

I laughed awkwardly but was quickly reminded of the events of last night, causing my face to tense up.

Anyone who’d seen that sight would’ve lost sleep. Did Raphael not see the moon last night? It had come so close. Or was it just an illusion that only Simeon and I witnessed? A chill ran down my spine, and I swallowed dryly.

“Raphael. What time did you go to bed last night?”

“About… 2 a.m.? I was watching a drama, and suddenly it was morning.”

“You were on the Ark, right?”

“Yes, of course. I don’t usually stay out unless it’s work-related.”

So then… could it have been an illusion that only Simeon and I could see? My body shivered at the thought, and I swallowed dryly. How powerful must it have been to produce such a huge, intricate vision—not even a rift, but something so realistic it was impossible to distinguish from reality?

Raphael cautiously studied my expression as I clamped my mouth shut, darting my eyes around.

“Did something happen last night?”

It would be better if he never found out—about the moon, about <Divine Comedy>.

“Oh, it was nothing… The full moon was just… stunning.”

“Really? Oh, wow.”

Raphael’s shoulders drooped; he looked disappointed at having missed it.

Since it’d been a while, we decided to have lunch together. Thankfully, the rest of the day passed without any trouble.

As evening approached, I shut myself in my room, prepared for whatever might come. But the night came and went without incident.

“Maybe I’m just overreacting…”

As I lay down on the bed, weary, barely seconds had passed before a strange smell filled the air. 

Did I leave the window open? 

Rubbing my sleepy eyes, I slowly sat up. But an unfamiliar scene revealed itself as my vision adjusted to the dark.

“W-What…?”

I wasn’t in my room. Instead, I saw the black sky and an ocean surrounding me. Still dazed, I took a step forward. As I moved, gravel crunched under my feet and fell. Startled, I looked down. I was standing right at the edge of a cliff.

I gasped, pulling back. As my alertness returned, I could hear the waves crashing against the cliff. I didn’t remember walking out here. I’d never had sleepwalking issues before. 

Then, a chilling wind grazed the back of my neck.

Just as I turned to head back to my room, something grabbed my ankle.

“Huh?”

Turning to look, I froze. Emerging from the darkness and clinging to the edge of the cliff was a hand. It looked like a hand-shaped balloon, bloated and blue as if swollen with water.

I tried to free my foot, but it wouldn’t budge; whatever lay beyond the hand was too strong. 

Despite knowing nothing good would come of it, I peeked over the edge. Simultaneously, the clouds parted, and the moon’s pale light illuminated the scene. As soon as I saw it, my gaze locked with its empty eyes.

It was a bloated face with blue lips, glassy eyes, and decayed skin stretched taut over its skull. It was human in shape, yet it looked like a rotten fish. Even the stench was putrid and nauseating.

I covered my nose with my hand and tried again to pull free. Suddenly, my surroundings changed, and instead of a cliff, I was back in my brightly lit room. 

Staring at the ceiling in shock, I let out a sigh.

“It was… a dream.”

I brushed my face, slick with sweat.

It’d felt too real. The swollen face, the clammy grip on my ankle—it was as if I’d actually seen a drowned corpse for the first time, so vivid it was. Even now, it seems as if I can still smell the rotting fish.

Just as I was about to get up to wash my face, I felt a sharp pain in my ankle when I stepped down. I must’ve slept on it weirdly. But when I glanced down, I froze. 

A purple bruise had formed on my ankle—four long marks unmistakably in the shape of a hand.

Breathing heavily, I collapsed back onto the bed.

Was it really not a dream?

“Mujeong.”

With a trembling hand over my mouth, I called his name, and he finally appeared.

“For what reason do you call on me, Master?”

“Come here and sit.”

I patted the bed, and he obediently sat down beside me. Without hesitation, I turned, resting my foot on the bed.

“Do you see this?”

Pointing at the bruise, I noticed Mujeong staring intently at my ankle. Mujeong then glanced up with round eyes as if it were an obvious question. 

If Mujeong could also see the bruise, then the events of last night couldn’t have been just a dream.

“Did I… leave my room yesterday?”

“Pardon?”

“I mean, did I go outside…? Surely you’d know?”

As I pressed for an answer, Mujeong narrowed his eyes.

“Are you attempting to frighten me?”

“…What do you mean?”

“Last night, master….”

Knock, knock—. 

A sudden knock startled me, immediately forcing my attention toward the door.

“Who’s there?”

There was silence.

Carefully, I pulled a dagger from the bedside drawer and approached the door.

Could the creature really have followed me here? My mouth went dry, and my eyes wavered. Taking a long breath to calm my pounding heart, I flung the door open. I pulled out a dagger to swing, only to abruptly halt when I saw a familiar face.

“Oh….”

My silent visitor was Simeon. Quickly stashing the dagger in my back pocket, I squeezed my eyes shut before opening them again.

“You scared me. Why didn’t you say anything?”

My complaint received no response. Only then did I notice his expression as he stood there by the door, staring at me with narrowed eyes. I was familiar with that look. Every time visions of Johan haunted Simeon, he’d give me that same look, as though questioning if I was real.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

As I cautiously approached and placed a hand on his shoulder, he flinched slightly. Only when he touched my hand did he seem to realize I was real. He exhaled a quiet sigh as I started to guide him into the room, but Simeon suddenly asked,

“Did…anything unusual happen last night?”

Could it be that Simeon experienced the same thing as I did? I lifted my right foot, which bore a distinct handprint, and lowered my head. When Simeon saw the bruised blue mark, his face twisted in anger.

“What is this?”

“It’s a mark left by…that thing.”

“What thing?”

Simeon narrowed his eyes, tilting his head. Strange. Surely if he’d seen it, he would know what I was talking about…?

“Didn’t you see it, too?”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but what I saw at dawn…was you.”

“You…saw me?”

“You were standing at the edge of a cliff. I wasn’t sure if it was a hallucination or not, so I called out to you, but you didn’t respond.”

So that’s why he’d looked so grim this morning. I don’t remember hearing his voice then. No, I couldn’t have heard it. A creature gripped my ankle, pulling me towards the edge of the cliff. How could I have noticed anything around me?

“Ah, that… It was probably really me.”

“Why were you there at that hour?”

After I recounted what’d happened at dawn, Simeon frowned as if he couldn’t believe it.

“A drowned corpse grabbed your ankle?”

“I’m just saying it resembled one. I don’t actually know what it actually was.”

As I described what ‘it’ looked like, a sudden wave of nausea hit me, and I shook my head.

“Anyway, I feel calmer now; perhaps it only appears at night.”

“At night…?”

“What time did you see me?”

“I didn’t check the time before going out, but I worked until around 2 a.m.”

If it was around 2 a.m., that roughly matched the time I remember.

“If it shows up again tonight, it’s probably better to go see it together.”

That night, at 2 a.m., Simeon and I headed toward the cliff. Standing at the spot where I’d stood, I looked down over the edge. It was dizzyingly steep, but I saw nothing unusual. We circled around the cliff near the ark, but there was no sign of it anywhere.

“Was it just a nightmare?”

“Let’s wait a bit longer.”

An hour passed like that. Right at 3 a.m., as the clouds moved from the moon, I heard a scraping sound coming from below the cliff. Or was it… gnawing?

Creak, creak—.

Drawn by the strange sound, I looked down over the edge.

“There…!”

There it was. And there wasn’t just one. We could see dozens, possibly even hundreds of them at just a glance. A new one would emerge whenever a wave crashed against the cliff and sent foamy white spray everywhere. As I stood in shock at the sight, one creature used its hands and feet like a spider to expertly climb up the cliff. A chilling creak echoed with each scrape of its fingers against the rocks.

“What in the world….”

When Simeon leaned out over the edge, the lead creature’s eyes shot up, glinting dead and fish-like under the moonlight. I had a horrible feeling. At that moment, the creature started climbing up at a frightening speed. 

“Watch out!” 

I grabbed Simeon’s arm and pulled him back.

Luckily, he wasn’t hurt, but the creature managed to make it up and over the cliff face. It was something other than human, crawling on all fours with its hands planted on the ground and hips raised high. Its face was so bloated that its features were unrecognizable, and its skin was covered in patches of barnacles and pale to the point of being blue. And the smell. That rotting fish stench hit me right in the nose.

“I’ve never seen a monster like that before.”

Simeon muttered to himself, then closed his eyes. I thought he was about to use his powers on it, but within seconds, he opened his eyes again, and this time his gaze was uncharacteristically shaky.

“What’s wrong?”

“I… I can’t see it….”

He can’t see it? As in, he can’t use his powers on it? He’d managed to temporarily subdue an unkillable corpse in <Bloodletting Sword>’s rift, hadn’t he? Could it be… that his power only affected living beings? Then what on earth was this thing, born from the sea foam?

No, that wasn’t the main concern right now. If Simeon’s powers didn’t work, then this creature was entirely my responsibility.

“Just stay back for now.”

I drew the dagger from my back pocket, slicing my hand without hesitation. As blood dripped down, the blue world, illuminated by the moonlight, quickly turned red. Taking a short breath, I charged toward the creature.

Just as I swung for its neck, the creature leaped sideways like a grasshopper. I thought it would go for a critical strike, but its bulging eyes weren’t fixed on me. They were staring behind me. At Simeon.

“Damn it…!”

The creature darted past me before I could correct my stance, lunging at Simeon. I twisted my body, hurling my blade toward its head. With a sickening squelch, the sword pierced through its head, and it dissolved into seawater, scattering into a red puddle mixed with my blood. I rushed over to Simeon, who was staring at the spot where the creature had been.

“Are you okay?”

Simeon started to speak but then simply pulled me close, and we turned to look back. Four more creatures had already climbed up. Including the ones holding onto the cliff’s edge, there were ten in total—a substantial number.

Just as I prepared to let more blood from my hand, the moon hid behind a cloud, darkening our surroundings. The creatures froze, and then as if by some silent signal, they all turned and dove back into the sea. Still stunned, I approached the cliff’s edge.

They’d disappeared without a trace, with only the waves crashing against the shore below.

“They’re… not alive.”

Simeon knelt down, dipping his fingertips into the water where the creature’s form had dissolved. His voice was laced with confusion as if he were speaking to himself. I had never imagined that there’d be so many of them. But the real issue lay elsewhere.

“Why did they target you instead of me?”

They’d intentionally ignored me and went for Simeon. Could it be because they knew his power wouldn’t affect them? But they didn’t seem intelligent enough for that. There must be another reason. Perhaps…

‘Until the day of judgment arrives, your worth shall be tested.’

Of course. A test.

“By any chance… do you have <Divine Comedy> with you right now?”

Simeon nodded quietly.

So, it was <Divine Comedy> they were after, not Simeon. We’d have to protect it from these strange creatures until the next full moon to earn the right to pass through the gates of hell. 

Realizing this, Simeon let out a sigh.

“Then, they’ll appear like this every day at dawn.”

Checking my watch, I noted the time.

“3:04 a.m.?”

The first one appeared right at 3 a.m. and retained its form for four minutes before vanishing into the sea. I was still pondering if there was any significance to the timing when Mujeong, who’d been standing by with folded arms, spoke up.

“It is the Hour of the Tiger.”

I thought it sounded familiar, then remembered hearing it from the lore of <Bloodletting Sword>. It was said that they forged the Four Tiger Sword to drive out evil, constructing it during the tiger’s year, month, day, and hour. That explained why the ritual to seal Mujeong away also coincided with that time back then.

Until now, I’d assumed it was a fortuitous hour, but Mujeong began to explain something entirely different.

“It is also the hour when the veil between our world and the spirit realm is at its thinnest.”

“Are you saying those things are… what, ghosts?”

Mujeong merely shrugged, leaving it at that.

The following day, I began investigating the creatures. However, no record of the creatures existed, let alone anything tying them to <Divine Comedy>. Given that <Divine Comedy> itself was shrouded in secrecy, perhaps it was only natural. Ultimately, all we could do was name them ‘Water Ghosts. ’

Dawn soon arrived without further insight.

Realizing his abilities were ineffective, Simeon brought a spirit creature to confront the water spirits. However, it was useless against them. In the end, he single-handedly cut down ten water spirits and adjusted his stance.

“…Just as expected.”

Like yesterday, all of them returned to the sea. When I checked my watch, it was precisely 3:04 a.m.

“Why don’t the other spirit creatures work? Why is only <Bloodletting Sword> effective?”

Simeon frowned in frustration. Once again, Mujeong was the one to answer.

“Because nothing else can exorcise them.”

<Bloodletting Sword> was originally created to vanquish evil. Even if the water spirits weren’t ‘ghosts’ from the sea, as we’d labeled them, if their very essence were evil, then <Bloodletting Sword> would be their natural enemy.

Simeon clenched his fist in resolve and looked at Mujeong.

“Then I’ll wield the sword myself.”

Mujeong, who was shaking off the seawater from his hair, was startled and shook his head.

“Heeey, Second Lord. What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’ll use <Bloodletting Sword>.”

“This is a hazardous weapon. You should protect your precious body.”

Simeon knew from Mujeong’s exaggerated reaction that, to use <Bloodletting Sword> properly, he would need to entrust himself entirely to Mujeong. However, Simeon would never allow that, and more importantly, Mujeong himself didn’t want to borrow Simeon’s body.

“I am your master, too. Doesn’t that qualify me?”

“Well, yes, but…”

In the end, Mujeong shot a pleading glance at me. I had no choice but to grab Simeon’s arm.

“It only lasts for four minutes. I can handle it alone.”

“But I don’t want to burden you with that, Mr. Hajae.”

The water spirits surged in with the thinning of the veil at the appointed hour. Since they weren’t illusions like that massive moon, we had to cut down every one of them as they rose up from the cliffs to protect <Divine Comedy> and the people on the Ark.

It might be exhausting to do alone, but it wasn’t impossible.

“Can you entrust this to me, just this once?”

In truth, this was what I’d hoped for.

Simeon, who’d been silently staring at my face like he was trying to bore a hole through it, slowly nodded.

“Then I’ll leave this task entirely to you, Mr. Hajae.”

Entirely to me? I never imagined hearing such words from Simeon, someone who never trusted others. Until now, I had only accompanied him on his planned operations or offered my opinions and assistance. Despite trying to suppress my emotions, the corners of my lips couldn’t help but curl up.

“From what I’ve seen, it doesn’t seem like those creatures regenerate like the ones we faced in <Bloodletting Sword>’s rift. So, you can rest in your room, Simeon.”

His expression gradually hardened as I spoke excitedly.

From that night on, heading towards the cliff at dawn became routine. Under the pale moonlight, I would slice my palm with <Bloodletting Sword>. As I murmured a prayer to forget my fear, it started to feel like a sacred ritual. I closed my eyes gently and waited for the creatures that shouldn’t exist in this world, the ones that crossed the gates of hell, to appear.

3 a.m. Amidst the sound of waves, I heard an odd noise.

Screech, screech—.

The eerie noise that I could initially hear from a distance rapidly got closer. And when that rancid and revolting smell reached my nose, I swung my sword without mercy.

Swish—. 

When I slashed their necks, seawater burst out in all directions like a popped water balloon. My clothes were instantly soaked.

“Ah.”

I sniffed the edge of my sleeve, worried the stench might have transferred, but fortunately, it was just seawater. With that reassurance, I continued to cut down the creatures. A small sea formed at my feet once I’d killed more than ten. The splashing sounds as I moved made me feel like I was dancing on water.

Four minutes passed quickly. Today, it even felt shorter. As I gazed blankly at the now calm sea, Mujeong suddenly appeared and spoke to me.

“You seem to be in a good mood.”

“Really? I guess I feel a bit refreshed.”

It wasn’t just because I’d been drenched in seawater on a hot evening. I felt oddly at peace whenever I slayed one of the water monsters.

“Could it be that I’m feeling the exorcising power?”

I murmured as I let the blood on my sword wash away into the sea. Mujeong nodded, rubbing his chin.

“I’ve heard stories about the sound of a flute that drives away evil spirits and wards off diseases.”

“Oh, well, that’s good then. It also means I’m protecting the people on the ark.”

“As expected of the sword wielder. The king would have praised your achievements if you had lived in my era.”

I couldn’t tell if he was mocking or complimenting me, but I was more amused than irritated.

“He would’ve praised us both?”

“Oh my, you would allow me some of the credit?”

“Of course. It’s you and your strength that fights alongside me.”

“I am deeply honored that you would share that with a humble servant like me, Master.”

Mujeong placed a hand on his chest and bowed slightly with an exaggeratedly grateful expression. I wondered if he’d speak like that if we stood before the king. This ridiculous thought made me recall someone who would have longed for such a day.

I looked at Mujeong’s playful face and lightly patted his shoulder.

“If that were the case, I think your father would’ve been very proud.”

“…Pardon?”

“He always wished for you to become someone who could protect others.”

Mujeong’s lips twitched, and a fleeting look of surprise crossed his now hardened expression.

“How did you know…?”

“I heard it from you. When you entered my body, I started learning things I didn’t want to know.”

His long eyelashes trembled slightly. I smiled faintly at his rare show of tension.

“I saw it back then.”

Though it was a memory fragment, it left a strong impression. I remembered his father, Museo, carving chess pieces from stones on the ground, playing a game all by himself. Despite being born a commoner and eventually persecuted, he was a man whose resolve remained unbroken. Solid, like his name.

‘We butchers are looked down upon for being close to swords and blood, but you should become someone who protects others like this pawn.’

Mujeong wouldn’t have been unjustly tied to the sword if it weren’t for the ignorance and cruelty of those people. But thanks to that, I met the only friend who knew my secret, so perhaps it was fate. Though mischievous, Mujeong was someone who sympathized with my impending death. There was something I wanted to tell him.

“Jeong-ah, you are indeed a pawn.”

Mujeong’s eyes widened, and he inhaled sharply. His usually cold, crimson eyes grew moist. He lowered his head in silence. Perhaps he’d forgotten how to cry, or maybe it was his last bit of pride. Though his face twisted as if he would break down at any moment, no tears fell. So I quietly stroked his shoulder.

Thanks to him, I’d learned that just being acknowledged by someone could be a comfort.

****

For ten consecutive days, I continued slaying them. What initially was a horrifying sight I thought I’d never get used to eventually became mundane as I continued seeing the water creatures daily. It became as routine as washing my face in the morning, and I even got used to being soaked head to toe like a drowned rat.

“It’s a good thing it’s summer. If it were winter…”

Just imagining it made my body shiver and I trembled. 

I felt a sudden presence behind me. Did I miss one of the creatures? I quickly drew the dagger from my back pocket and turned around. But instead of a hideous ghost, the figure was familiar and impossibly handsome, even in the dark night.

“Y-You scared me!”

I quickly sheathed the dagger back into my pocket, blinking in surprise.

“What are you doing here?”

Simeon approached silently and wrapped a shower towel around my shoulders. 

“Simeon?” 

I called his name, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he headed back towards the ark with a grave expression. I followed him quietly, sensing something serious. He stopped at my room.

I thought he would leave, but he walked in naturally, pulling a chair from the window to sit beside my bed. He looked up at me, seemingly questioning why I was still standing. I quickly spread the towel on the bed and sat down. Simeon immediately spoke up.

“I thought you were pretending not to know, but it seems you really weren’t aware.”

“…What?”

“I’ve been coming out and watching over you every night.”

I’d had no idea. After the spirits disappeared each time, I’d return to the ark without glancing back, wash up, and then go to sleep. That means he was there every time the creatures appeared.

“That’s dangerous. Why did you do that?”

“I left <Divine Comedy> deep inside the ark, so it’s fine.”

“Still…”

I almost told him not to come out anymore but bit my tongue. I would’ve been too worried to sleep if I knew Simeon was fighting monsters alone every morning. I awkwardly rubbed my neck and mumbled a ‘thank you’ to him.

But Simeon’s expression only grew darker. I realized his eyes were fixed on my injured hand.

“This…”

“Have you been treating this yourself every day?”

“It’s not as hard as it seems. There’s a trick to it.”

Compared to the wounds from the bus accident, where my burns had oozed pus, and my ribs had shattered and pierced through flesh, treating this kind of wound was easy.

As I nonchalantly shrugged, Simeon grabbed my arm, inspecting the wound with a sharp gaze. He let out a deep sigh.

“I’ll bring a healing potion.”

“Oh, no.”

I pulled my wrist back and shook my head.

“It’s not like I’m completely incapacitated. It’s just a small wound.”

“But it could scar.”

“It’s just the palm. Besides, it’s too expensive. Healing potions aren’t cheap.”

Though I gave a practical reason, Simeon narrowed his eyes as if he couldn’t understand.

“Are you worried I’ll go bankrupt from using too many healing potions?”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

It was a silly thing to say. After all, The Apostles recently acquired a mysterious fountain pen for 30 billion won from an auction, and the ark’s underground was filled with dozens of similar artifacts, mostly owned by Simeon. It made no sense to worry about his finances, but…

“Anyway, I’ll just get hurt again tomorrow.”

Taking the potion could wait until this bizarre routine ended.

As I clenched my fist to hide the wound, Simeon bit his lip. He stayed silent, seemingly lost in thought, and then met my eyes.

“Then I’ll treat it for you.”

“What?”

“Every day, at this time, here.”

I was more shocked than when I first saw the spirits.

It wasn’t just about getting treated. This meant he’d come to my room every dawn for the next three weeks. I felt dizzy. Just as I was about to protest, Simeon gently took my hand.

“At least let me heal you.”

His suggestion had turned into a plea. Seeing the sorrowful look on his face, I couldn’t refuse. I nodded quietly, and Simeon placed my hand on his knee, taking out a first aid kit from the drawer. As he soaked gauze with disinfectant, I asked out of the blue,

“Um… You’re not planning to sleep here, are you?”

Simeon’s hand holding the tweezers halted.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just curious.”

I laughed awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

I know it’s probably not the most imperative issue right now, but it’s important to me all the same. Simeon doesn’t know how surprised I was to see his face when I woke up last time to find him in my bed. If I have to go through that multiple times, I might die of a heart attack before the curse takes me.

Simeon glanced at me and spoke as he placed a gauze soaked in disinfectant over my wound.

“I’ll sleep here and leave in the morning.”

“What?!”

“…is what I would say, but you’re going to throw me out anyway, so why bother asking?”

Simeon grinned as he slowly closed his open mouth. I couldn’t take my eyes off that somewhat sad-looking face. Even though there was disinfectant on the wound, I stared at it helplessly, not even knowing it hurt. Soon, Simeon, who was applying the ointment, sighed and muttered.

“Stop looking at me. Before I misunderstand.”

I swallowed dryly and looked away from him. It was only then that the wound felt hot.

Contrary to my worry that meeting him every morning would become burdensome, I quickly got used to receiving his treatment. No, rather, I began to look forward to it. The five minutes he spent treating my hand. In that short time, we talked about our day—how it went, whether we slept well, if we’d eaten, etc. I never realized how much I missed having such ordinary conversations with him.

I looked at my freshly dressed palm and smiled with satisfaction.

“Thank you. Thanks to you, it won’t leave a scar.”

But for some reason, Simeon’s expression didn’t look good.

“What’s wrong?”

My voice was tinged with a hint of concern. In response, Simeon lightly sighed as he organized the first aid kit.

“This is just a first for me.”

“What is?”

“Feeling utterly powerless like this.”

Stunned by his sudden confession, I quickly shook my head.

“What are you talking about? There’s no one more capable than you, Simeon.”

“Not in this case. What they’re after is <Divine Comedy>. I’m the owner of the spirit item, but you’re the one suffering, Mr. Hajae.”

Was this why he seemed strangely down whenever he wished me good night? Simeon, who’d always handled most problems alone, must have felt especially helpless this time. I could offer words of comfort, telling him not to blame himself because it couldn’t be helped. But I knew those words wouldn’t resonate with him.

So, I decided to be honest.

“I like it, though.”

Simeon’s face immediately crumpled at my words.

“…You like it?”

“Yes. I’ve always said I’d protect you, but all I’ve done so far is rely on you.”

Maybe this was me finally pulling my weight. Waking up at 3 a.m. every day and defeating the creatures on my own feels good. As I smiled slightly, the confusion on Simeon’s face deepened. I shrugged and continued.

“To be honest, ever before I got <Bloodletting Sword>, you’ve never seemed to need my help.”

“That’s….”

“It always felt like having me as a partner was optional for you—good if I was there, but fine if I wasn’t.”

Even with the <Amrita> incident, the plan to capture Hyunseong Choi and bring him down was all devised by Simeon alone. Thanks to <Bloodletting Sword>, we immediately subdued an Arachne when it emerged from the rift, but honestly, Simeon would’ve handled it more cleanly than I did.

“But this is something you need my help with for once, you know?”

His dark eyes, focused on my wound, finally looked up at me.

“And I like that. I like being able to do something for you.”

Isn’t it better to stand shoulder to shoulder than for one to hide behind the other? Standing alone behind the other might’ve been okay in my memories of when we were kids. But now, I want to face him as an equal, at least once more, with what little time I have left.

“What do you think?”

I looked up at him with a playful smile.

“Am I someone you can rely on?”

I expected him to either laugh in disbelief or nod in agreement. However, contrary to my expectations, his face only grew darker. His eyes, which usually resembled a calm lake, now seemed disturbed as if a strong wind had stirred its surface.

After a long, heavy silence, Simeon finally spoke slowly.

“I’ve thought about not finishing <Divine Comedy>.”

“Why’s… that?”

“I just thought… maybe living like this wouldn’t be so bad.”

His recent hesitation about completing <Divine Comedy> hadn’t been my imagination. Most people might have been glad to hear that. It would mean he was no longer entangled in the past. But to me, it wasn’t welcome news.

Simeon’s driving force had always been his love-hate relationship with Johan. He’d made money to spite his parents, and his complex feelings toward Johan fueled his pursuit of becoming a top hunter. For him to abandon <Divine Comedy> would be akin to forgiving Johan.

That can’t happen.

“Although I… don’t know your reasons, wouldn’t it be a waste to give up now?”

He must continue to hate Johan—to hate me.

“This is the only way to forget a dead person.”

Although my words were intentionally hurtful, Simeon merely chuckled as if they didn’t faze him.

“As I expected, Mr. Hajae.”

“…What?”

“I knew you’d say that this time as well.”

His words suddenly brought back memories of what happened in <Monet’s Garden>.

‘Would you like to give it all up and live with me?’

‘I could give up everything if you stayed by my side. Even the Apostles, even <Divine Comedy>.’

Yes, he’d said that back then, too. Seeing him every day for a month, meeting at dawn when emotions are most vulnerable, had made my heart soften more than necessary. Just as I was about to rebuild the walls between us, Simeon gently took my hand.

“Mr. Hajae. I’ll finish <Divine Comedy> as you wish.”

It sounded like the classic, ‘I don’t want this, but I’ll do it because you want it.’

“So, will you come to hell with me?”

Knowing what he meant, I feigned ignorance and replied calmly.

“Good choice.”

As always.

****

September’s full moon was fast approaching. The day when <Divine Comedy>’s gate would open was near. Normally, we would meticulously prepare for a week before entering a rift, but aside from dealing with the sea monsters, there wasn’t much to do this time. After all, we had scarce information about <Divine Comedy> anyway.

After Simeon finished that morning’s treatment, I handed him a book from the bedside.

“Just in case, I read the original Divine Comedy, too.”

Simeon glanced over the book and nodded slowly.

“Yeah. <Divine Comedy> will likely follow the plot of the original Divine Comedy.”

“Was it much different from the original?”

“The two were pretty similar, but there are some differences. In the artifact, the narrator isn’t Dante.”

“Then who is it?”

“No one. It’s never specified.”

In the original, the protagonist, Dante, explores hell with his guide, Virgil. Hell is divided into layers based on the sins committed, and as Dante descends, he encounters acquaintances and famous figures who reside there.

But in the spirit item <Divine Comedy>, it’s whoever enters the crack. So, the narrator would be us—Simeon and I. That means the characters we meet on each layer could be related to us. Perhaps the spirits that contained pieces of <Divine Comedy> would appear at each level.

“Look at this.”

Simeon opened <Divine Comedy> to reveal a diagram of an inverted pyramid. The diagram divided Hell into nine layers, labeling each with a different sin. He pointed to the sixth layer, ‘Heresy’, known as the ‘heretics’ hell.’

“Starting from this sixth layer, the lower levels are filled with the most heinous sinners. The guards there are equally vicious. They aren’t ones to negotiate with, so we should avoid attracting their attention as much as possible.”

In the original, Dante occasionally encountered monsters blocking his path, which Virgil would chase away. But since we had no guide, we’d have to handle them ourselves. I tightened my grip on the blood-stained cloth and sighed, feeling the tension.

“Is there anything we need to prepare?”

“The toll for the ferry.”

Simeon opened the artifact to a specific page and showed it to me.

“Here.”

He pointed to a sentence, but I couldn’t read Italian, so I just blinked. Thankfully, he explained.

“It says we must cross the Acheron River to enter hell.”

“So, kinda like their version of the Sanzu River?”

“Yes. You have to pay the ferryman, Charon.”

It’s similar to the tradition of placing coins on a deceased person’s eyes for their journey to the afterlife.

“What’s the fee?”

“It’s not paid in money.”

“Then…?”

“Dante offered Charon the wedding ring of his deceased wife.”

Reciting a line softly, Simeon closed the book.

“To enter the land of the dead, you have to offer up something you consider as precious as your life.”

If it’s something as precious as my life, only one item comes to mind. Offering it as the toll to Charon would make it disappear from this world forever. But I was okay with that as long as it took me to hell.

“I’ll prepare something.”

After Simeon had left, I got up and headed to the closet. I pulled out the metal box hidden under my folded clothes. It contained my parents’ keepsakes, saved thanks to the landlady when my apartment burned down.

The lid, shut for so long, creaked when I opened it. Inside was a yellowed letter, worn from the countless times I’d read it. My mother’s will, a letter I knew by heart, word for word. An item as precious to me as my life.

“Mom.”

I took it out, solidifying my resolve.

“This curse will end with me, no matter what.”