DTD 14

The sound of the wind brushing against the leaves no longer felt comforting. The soft rustle near my ears felt like crawling insects. And then, I felt it—eyes watching from somewhere. Glancieng around quickly, I finally saw it.

A screaming man’s face was embedded in the tree trunk Simeon was leaning against.

“T-There…”

At first, I didn’t even recognize it as a face. The bark’s deep brown, rough surface looked nothing like skin. But starting from the hollowed-out knotholes where eyes should’ve been, the features of a nose and mouth were unmistakable. Just as I leaned in for a closer look—

The tree-man opened its mouth wide and screamed. Like cicadas setting off a chain reaction, the nearby trees also began to wail. In an instant, the forest was filled with siren-like shrieks so overwhelming it made my ears ring.

I didn’t want to stay here any longer. Hastily, I helped Simeon to his feet.

“Can you walk on your own?”

Simeon nodded silently. I took up a dagger in one hand and led the way, clearing a path for us. As we pressed forward, a heavy floral scent filled the air.

I sniffed like a dog, turning my head this way and that to try to find the source of the smell.

“Do you smell flowers?”

I asked out loud, wondering if it was just my imagination. But there was no response.

“Simeon?”

As I turned to look back, a piercing screech shattered the heavens. The sound was far louder and higher-pitched than the trees’ cries, and it came from above. Grimacing, I covered my ears just as a massive shadow passed overhead.

There’s no way a normal bird would fly in this hellscape. Then…

“…A harpy?”

The harpy was the forest’s warden here. Harpies were monsters with human heads and raptor bodies. Had it come seeking us after hearing the trees’ cries? Damn it. With nowhere to hide but the very trees that were our watchers, we were like rats in a trap.

“We need to move. Now.”

I assumed Simeon was following me and reached back, groping for him—but my fingers touched nothing. Alarmed, I turned to find Simeon standing far away, staring blankly.

“What are you doing? Why are you just standing there?”

I stepped toward him, but he backed away. His head hung low, hiding his face.

“Are you okay?”

The closer I got, the more he pulled away, retreating into the swaying trees. I caught up easily, thanks to his sluggish movements. As I reached out to grab him, Simeon hid his arms behind his back.

“…What’s wrong?”

The uneasy silence quickly drained my patience. I grabbed his arm and forced it forward—and froze.

The skin on his hand didn’t feel like skin. It was rough and hard, like bark. Shocked, I yanked back his sleeve. The skin on his arm, all the way up to his forearm, was no longer skin.

“What is this?”

Simeon bowed his head, his expression resigned as if he already knew the reason.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

“…”

“Why is this only happening to you? I’m fine!”

Frustrated, I gripped his wrist tightly, and my thumb brushed against a deep groove. Turning his hand, I saw multiple scars on his wrist, like claw marks on a tree.

“What are these…?”

Before I could finish speaking, a memory flashed in my mind.

‘Try to make an excuse. Go on… Did you come here to try and stop me again?’

‘Why are you pretending you don’t know? Every time I tried to kill myself, you’ve been there to stop me.’

A lifeless face, a body forced to live, hands reaching for me in despair—and the vivid knife wounds beneath them. Yes, they were the scars left behind by Simeon’s inability to resist the visions of Johan.

As I exhaled a shaky breath, Simeon murmured in a calm voice.

“It’s because of the sins I’ve committed.”

Here, those who harm themselves are turned into trees.

“That’s ridiculous…”

As I spoke, I watched as his hand completely transformed into wood. No warmth or trembling remained. The transformation was happening faster than I’d feared. At this rate, his entire body would become a tree.

“It’s okay. Once we leave this floor, you’ll return to normal.”

Then, the trees swayed violently in the wind. I looked up, and there it was again—a harpy’s shadow. Its enormous talons glinted menacingly in the moonlight as if they could rip out entire trees with ease.

We couldn’t stay here.

“Let’s go.”

I grabbed his arm, but Simeon didn’t budge.

“What are you doing? I said let’s go.”

My tone was sharp with urgency, but Simeon just stared at me blankly, his eyes already resigned. Why did he look like he’d given up everything? We were only two floors away from escape. If we could just find the path…

Then, with dry lips, he spoke the words I least wanted to hear.

“I don’t want to slow you down.”

Cold dread washed over me.

“What are you talking about?”

“…The healing potion doesn’t work. Soon, I won’t even be able to move.”

“That’s why we don’t have time to waste. If we follow the scent of flowers, we’ll find the way out. So—”

I pulled him with all my strength, but his stiff arm slipped out of my grip. My hand, scratched by the bark, stung sharply. It hurt worse than a blade slicing through my flesh.

“Are you listening to me?”

The black eyes that had been watching me just moments ago had lost all focus. As Simeon backed away, I grabbed his shoulders firmly. 

“Simeon.” 

Desperation laced my voice, but his gaze avoided mine.

Did he really think I’d leave him behind? I exhaled sharply, lowered my voice, and muttered.

“Sang Heo.”

His wandering eyes snapped back to me. His lips parted slightly, and confusion flickered across his black eyes as they searched my face. Without hesitation, I grabbed his collar and forced him to meet my gaze.

“You said we’d find a way to survive together.”

When I first heard those words, my heart ached, but I was happy. Even though I knew it was a hopeless dream, it made me believe we could live. That somewhere, somehow, there was a way for us to exist together.

“We came here together, and we’ll leave here together.”

That’s why, as I repeated his words, tears welled in my eyes. But I didn’t look away. Just as he’d done for me when I’d lost all hope, I stared at him unwaveringly, my bloodshot eyes reflecting the determination in his transparent black ones.

“Were you lying to me then?”

Simeon swallowed hard and slowly shook his head.

“Then that’s all I need.”

“But…”

I released his collar and cut him off firmly.

“Listen to me. I’m never giving up on you.”

I needed to stay sharp. It was the only way to save him. Supporting Simeon while searching for the path wasn’t too difficult, but if a harpy attacked, we’d be in serious trouble. I had to be strategic about this.

“Jeong-ah.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Help Simeon walk.”

Gripping the dagger tightly, I closed my eyes briefly and opened them again. However, Mujeong just stood there, staring blankly at Simeon.

“You would like me… to assist the Second Lord? Haha, surely you are joking.”

“…Do I look like I’m joking?”

The sharp glare I shot his way instantly wiped the grin off Mujeong’s face. Without another word, he approached Simeon and draped the man’s arm over his shoulder. Simeon frowned in displeasure, letting out a deep sigh.

“To think… I’d need help from you…”

“My sentiments exactly, Second Lord.”

Though he made his distaste evident, Mujeong supported Simeon steadily. Their similar builds seemed to make it easier for Simeon to walk. Thanks to that, we managed to push forward, evading the harpy’s watchful eyes, in search of the sole flower blooming in this desolate forest.

“If it gets too hard, let me know. We can rest,” I suggested.

We walked for what felt like an eternity until the floral scent thickened in the air. Finally, a faint glow appeared in the distance. A cluster of small white flowers radiated a soft, firefly-like light. From their short stature and the black, thorny branches, I recognized them immediately—Blackthorn. At the same time, I didn’t see any nearby cliffs where bodies might fall, as the stories warned.

As I anxiously scanned the surroundings, a weak voice spoke from behind me.

“Underneath… Dig beneath the soil.”

Beneath? Was he talking about the ground under the Blackthorns, where skeletal remains had been rumored to lie?

“Wait here for a moment.”

Dropping to my knees, I began digging with my bare hands. Sharp stones scraped against my nails, and some wedged painfully underneath, but I didn’t stop. Before long, my fingers hit something hard. Brushing away the dirt and prying away the stones with my dagger, I revealed a wooden door, like the lid of a coffin.

“Simeon, there’s something here!”

I turned around, elated, but froze instantly.

“You’re… okay, right?”

His transformation had now reached his collarbone. His shallow breaths came in short, labored gasps, his lips slightly parted. I forced myself to ignore the sinking feeling of dread clawing at my mind and focused on prying open the wooden door. Just as I gripped its edge, Simeon spoke again, his voice faint.

“Mr… Hajae.”

“If you’re about to tell me to go on without you, save your breath.”

“No… Look… at the sky…”

His warning barely left his lips before an ear-splitting scream shattered the air. My head snapped up, and I froze.

A monstrous bird loomed above us, its neck as long as a giraffe’s. Its gaunt face bore the features of a woman, while its wild, unkempt hair twisted like tree branches stretching across the sky. Its massive form cast a shadow so large it blotted out the moon.

Cold sweat drenched my entire body.

Thump, thump—!

My pounding heart felt as though it would leap out of my throat. Every nerve in my body was on edge, and even the cold sweat trickling down my cheeks stung. In the next moment, sharp, predator-like eyes spotted the prisoner hiding under the shadows of the trees.

There was no room for mercy from a monster devoid of any shred of emotion.

“Mujeong!”

I immediately reversed my grip on the dagger and cut my hand. Behind the scattering drops of blood, I saw the monster with razor-sharp claws descending vertically. As soon as the blood transformed into a blade, I leaped forward to shield Simeon. 

Clang—! 

The massive claws collided with the blade, emitting a blue spark that flashed brilliantly.

Damn it. The sheer overwhelming force pressed down on my entire body, and a curse escaped involuntarily from between my clenched teeth. The harpy flapped its wings, holding the blade tightly with its claws as if it intended to crush me. Each gust of wind it generated forced my feet backward across the ground.

Just as my bent legs quivered, struggling to bear the weight, Mujeong whispered in my ear.

“You can’t beat it with brute force, Master.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? Die here?”

“Must you interpret everything so grimly?”

Over the grinding sound of claws against the blade, I could hear his hearty laughter.

“You can’t stop a waterfall with a mere breeze, but you can at least change its course.”

Change its course? I abruptly bent my body and swung the blade backward, deflecting the claws. The harpy, unable to halt its own momentum, slammed into a tree. Its sharp claws embedded themselves into the trunk, and the poor tree snapped with a sickening crack.

A piercing shriek followed immediately after—a final scream from the broken prisoner.

“Brilliant, Master.”

Is that what you say to someone who almost had their spine snapped? I shot a glare at Mujeong, who was clapping serenely, when I heard a faint groan sound from behind us. A chill ran down my spine, and I turned around hastily.

“Simeon?”

Thankfully, he didn’t seem injured. But his face was twisted in agony, battling not the harpy but his own body. To make matters worse, his neck had begun to turn into wood, rendering him unable to speak. 

“Are you okay?” I tried to approach him, but the harpy soared into the air again.

“Master.”

“I know!”

I abandoned my attempt to approach Simeon and readied myself again. My arms, already strained from overexertion, trembled pitifully. Yet the monster’s oppressive presence remained undiminished—if anything, the wings it spread seemed even larger than before.

Gripping my blade tightly, I glared at the beast, muttering to myself.

“Will it die if I keep slashing it?”

“That would be as efficient as drinking the entire ocean to create new land, Master.”

“Do you ever say anything helpful?”

“I am simply saying we do not have the time.”

He’s right. The harpy wasn’t the problem—it was the time limit. The battle with this unkillable monster might eventually end, but by then, Simeon would’ve fully turned into a tree. We had to move on to the next level before his heart stopped.

“Mujeong, buy me some time. Take Simeon over to the <Blackthorn>.”

“And what about you, Master?”

“I’ll follow right after.”

The harpy dove at me with its claws extended just as I finished speaking. But I didn’t dodge immediately; it was quicker than I was, capable of altering its trajectory the moment I tried to avoid it. I waited until its claws were right in front of my face before throwing myself to the side at the last possible moment.

Crunch—! 

The sharp claws tore another tree in half. The trees’ screams rang out in my ears as I repeated this life-or-death game of cat and mouse over and over.

Mujeong’s voice was urgent as he called out to me. 

“Master!” 

I turned instinctively, my heart sinking at what I saw. Simeon lay collapsed beneath a white-blossomed tree; his body turned to wood up to his jaw.

“Simeon…”

I stood there, dumbfounded, blinking in disbelief. Mujeong’s desperate voice pulled me back to my senses.

“The Second Lord is still alive, Master.”

“What…?”

“Now, quickly, this way!”

Those words became my signal. Without looking back, I dashed toward Simeon. The harpy came for me like a waiting storm, but I didn’t hesitate for even a second. There was no room for doubt in the face of desperation.

Beyond the wooden door buried beneath the <Blackthorn> lay a bottomless chasm. The moment I confirmed it, I grabbed Simeon and threw myself into the abyss. Just as we fell, the harpy’s claws shattered the door. The crash resounded as sharp splinters grazed my cheek.

“Hah…”

A trembling breath escaped my parched lips, but there was no time to relax. Simeon’s body, as cold and rigid as stone, had no trace of warmth. Whenever I held him before, both our hearts would race wildly—but now, I could only hear one, trembling with fear. The other had gone silent.

How much time had passed? When I opened my eyes, we were in a completely unfamiliar space. Without sparing a glance at my surroundings, I sprang to my feet and turned to look beside me.

Simeon lay there, peacefully as if asleep. But was he really asleep? Under the sunlight, his face appeared even paler, completely still, like…

“No.”

He had to be alive. Yes, he had to be.

I repeated those words over and over, swallowing dryly. I couldn’t bring myself to touch him, but after a long while, I stretched out a trembling hand. The short distance of mere inches felt like an eternity. Finally, I pressed my finger beneath his nose, and a trembling breath escaped me.

There, faintly, was the sensation of his breath.

“Thank you. Thank you…”

I pulled him into a tight embrace, murmuring with my eyes squeezed shut. They say moments like this—witnessing a miracle—confirm the existence of a god. For me, this was that moment. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was overwhelming in its relief.

Gradually, the bark covering his neck and hands receded. Just as I reached to undo the buttons at his collar, afraid they might stifle him, my vision suddenly blurred.

“Master!”

Mujeong grabbed my shoulders quickly.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine… it’s just my fatigue catching up to me…”

I forced a smile, but my eyelids grew heavier against my will. Through the dimming haze, I saw Simeon lying unconscious on the ground. If I lost consciousness now, who would protect him?

“I can’t… There’s no time…”

My vision blurred further, but then I saw it. A vast lake that stretched out in front of us. Only then did I take in my surroundings—were were at a quiet lakeside surrounded by dense trees. The water rippled gently, sparkling like scattered jewels. It was so bright and beautiful that I wondered if we were actually in heaven rather than hell.

Perhaps splashing my face with that water would clear my mind. Entranced, I crawled toward it. 

Mujeong grabbed my shoulder immediately.

“Something is off. Do not go near the water.”

But for some reason, I managed to brush him off. 

“Master?” 

His startled voice barely registered. I knelt by the lake, leaning forward. As the icy surface touched the tip of my nose, I finally saw it—the glimmering scales of a serpent, as brilliant as gemstones.

****

Bzzz, bzzz—.

The sound of vibrations reached my ears. Without opening my eyes, I moved my arm and rummaged through my pocket. My hand grasped the rectangular smartphone, the vibrations still buzzing against my palm. Half-asleep, I answered the call without even checking who it was and brought the phone to my ear.

“Mm, hello?”

Hearing my heavily groggy voice, someone on the other end laughed pleasantly.

[Did I wake you?]

The voice sounded familiar yet oddly unfamiliar. It was so gentle, almost as if it belonged to someone else. Thinking I might’ve misheard, I momentarily pulled the phone away to check the screen. The words ‘My Love’ were displayed prominently. I let out a small laugh, incredulous.

What the heck? Did I get drunk and change the contact name for him?

[Where are you? Hello?]

I listened again, and it was definitely Simeon.

[Hello? Can you hear me?]

“Ah, yeah.”

I figured I should at least reply, so I looked around the room with half-closed eyes.

“I’m… I’m here, in…”

Rows of desks and chairs, a small lectern at the front, and an English text written on the whiteboard—it was unmistakable. I’d been here a few times while running errands.

“A lecture hall…?”

What’s going on? Why am I sitting in the middle of an empty university lecture hall? Just a little while ago… Let’s see, I was definitely…

“Where… was I before this?”

[What?]

My sleepiness vanished in an instant, though my mind remained hazy. It felt as if an entire memory had been erased… Or maybe it was just a meaningless dream I couldn’t recall. No matter how hard I tried to fish it out, my mind stayed blank, leaving only a strange unease lingering in the corner of my heart.

[But why are you still in the lecture hall? Didn’t your elective class end already?]

“Oh? Well, that’s…”

[I’ll just come find you.]

The call ended, and a short while later, someone opened the door and walked in.

“Hyung!”

As soon as Simeon spotted me, his face broke into a wide smile. Seeing that refreshing expression, I couldn’t help but smile back instinctively. He was dressed in a gray hoodie, dark jeans, and a backpack slung over one shoulder, holding a textbook for his major. He looked every bit the college student. His outfit was different from usual. Normally, he dressed like… how did he dress again?

“I was worried since you weren’t answering.”

As I stared at him blankly, Simeon came closer and gently ruffled my hair.

“Look at your messy hair. How long did you sleep?”

He gazed at me lovingly, his face lit with a smile. But somehow, that expression felt strangely out of place. 

Everything felt unfamiliar. The lecture hall, Simeon, as well.

“Why are you staring at me like that? Do I have something on my face?”

His attitude and tone toward me were so sweet they seemed to drip honey, yet I couldn’t shake the feeling of distance between us.

It’s to the point where I wondered if he had an identical twin with a completely different personality. The problem was that I couldn’t figure out why his current self felt so unfamiliar.

What kind of person was the ‘Simeon I knew’? 

…I couldn’t answer that question at all.

“No, it’s just… It’s a little strange.”

“You’re the strange one, hyung.”

Simeon tilted his head and sat down beside me.

“Why are you suddenly using formal speech with me?”

“I’ve always used it with you.”

Formal speech must have been a habit with him, considering how naturally it slipped out when I spoke. But Simeon’s reaction was odd. He furrowed his brow, stared at me intently, and then burst into laughter.

“Hyung. What kind of bet did you lose this time?”

“…What?”

“Did you accept a dare from someone? Or is this some kind of challenge?”

When I remained silent, blinking in confusion, Simeon slowly nodded.

“Well, whatever.”

For once, a mischievous smile appeared on his face. I was flustered by this whole situation, but Simeon seemed to think I was joking around as usual. His gaze, looking up at me sideways with his chin resting on his hand, was provocatively playful.

“We’ve been dating for over a year now.”

“You and I… are dating?”

“Yes. Us. Plus, we’re having dinner with your parents today.”

What is he even talking about? Simeon and I, dating? And what’s this about having dinner with my parents?

The barrage of catastrophic news made my face contort. I clamped my mouth shut, trying to process it all, but Simeon crossed his arms and smirked.

“You’re getting better at acting, hyung.”

“Ah…”

“But cut it out now. Even if you’re joking, it’s a bit over the top.”

…But it’s not a joke. I swallowed the words that had risen to my throat. I couldn’t bring myself to ask if we were truly in that kind of relationship. Somehow, his face, smiling as if nothing was wrong, looked like it was hurt.

“I apologize.”

“There you go, speaking formally again.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

Only then did Simeon’s face soften completely. Seeing him smile brightly made me feel foolishly happy again.

When memories that were supposed to be shared by two people are only remembered by one, how could the one who remembered nothing confidently tell the other to stop lying?

Most people would begin to doubt their own memory. Like I am right now… Yeah. It must be me who’s wrong. Simeon wouldn’t lie to me.

“It’s tonight at 7 at that restaurant in Sangsu, right?”

He must be referring to the dinner with my parents. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” I answered reflexively.

“I was so nervous last night I couldn’t even sleep properly.”

“…You’re nervous?”

“Of course.”

Simeon tapped his chin thoughtfully, then suddenly leaned his face close to mine.

“Do you think I should wear a suit?”

Hearing him say something so trivial with such a serious expression made me laugh without thinking.

“Why a suit? It’s not like it’s a formal meeting.”

“It pretty much is, though.”

His black eyes, staring straight into mine, were unwavering.

“I’d marry you, even if I had to go overseas to do it.”

“What? Marriage is a bit…”

Isn’t that too much? I swallowed the rest of my sentence, furrowing my brows. Simeon frowned as well.

“You don’t want to?”

“No, it’s not that…”

If I truly didn’t remember anything, I could just nod along and pretend to be happy. But every time I tried to imagine a happy future with him, a thought would surface from the depths of my mind, telling me I shouldn’t do this—as if my conscience were stopping me from committing a sin.

“Are you going back on your word now? You promised when we were kids.”

“…I did?”

“On the cliff near Jeongdong Cathedral. At sunset. When I confessed, you said we’d get married when we grew up…”

Jeongdong Cathedral, the cliff, the sunset sky, our clasped hands… I had brought him to see the sunset, but he wasn’t looking at the sunset—he was looking at me. That scene, where our gazes met by chance, was as vivid as if it happened yesterday.

But I couldn’t remember what we said to each other.

“Don’t tell me… you’ve forgotten?”

I could tell he liked me a lot. Too much, really. The slightest hint that I didn’t remember something, and his cold demeanor quickly turned into that of a wounded child. And I was no different. When he smiled, my heart raced helplessly.

So I couldn’t tell him. That I didn’t remember a single memory with him.

“Oh, no, I remember. I’m just embarrassed.”

I brushed it off with a laugh. Just then, my phone rang, giving me a much-needed escape route.

“Hold on.”

I awkwardly smiled as I pulled out my phone, only to freeze in place.

[Son, are you in class?]

[About the restaurant where we’re meeting Sang tonight, can you send me the address again?]

Dad. 

Seeing the word “Dad” saved so simply in my contacts made my breath catch.

[Also, your mom wants you to help her pick an outfit.]

Two photos came in quick succession: a spring dress covered in small flowers and a deep navy, understated dress.

[I said the floral one was pretty, but the lady of the house wants to know what her son thinks, too, haha.]

It was just an ordinary family conversation. But why was my heart pounding irregularly? Why does it feel like, if I let my guard down for even a moment, tears would spill over? Clutching my phone tightly, I swallowed dryly. Then, Simeon leaned his head against my shoulder.

“Who is it?”

“Oh, my parents. Seems like they want to make a good impression on you—they’re asking what outfit would look best.”

“Really?”

Simeon’s eyes lit up, his delighted smile spreading. A new text arrived shortly after.

[My Hajae, hurry and help me choose. Which one’s prettier?]

The contact name ‘Miss Yuyeon’ popped up. I chuckled softly. Dad must have saved it as ‘Miss Yuyeon’. He affectionately called Mom that, even after they married and had a child together. It felt so much like my family that it made me laugh, but at the same time, my chest felt inexplicably tight.

A few moments later, another text came through.

[Don’t tell me I disturbed your class?]

[No, no, Mom. I was just trying to decide.]

Afraid the conversation might end if I didn’t reply quickly, I typed back hastily.

[Both are pretty, haha, but for today, the navy one seems fitting.]

[Right? I knew my son had good taste.]

I could almost hear Mom’s laughter in my ears, and a smile naturally spread across my face.

But why was my throat so tight? It feels like encountering someone in a dream whom you thought you’d never see again—a bittersweet yearning was welling up.

Why did I feel this way toward my parents, who were alive and well? Ignoring my doubts, I received another text from Mom.

[Hajae.]

Just seeing my name made my heart sink. Because I already knew what Mom was about to say next. A sentence etched into my memory like a brand.

[Thank you.]

No… that wasn’t it.

[Thank you for being honest with me about who you like. It means a lot to me.]

Once again, my memories twisted out of place. What was this dissonance? The words I remember Mom saying… were ones written with such unusually long vowels. Starting a letter, they were…

<Hajae, I’m sorry.>

Her letter that began with an apology…

<And if you truly love someone, please don’t love them.>

…and ended with a warning.

That, without a doubt, was my Mom’s will.

[See you at dinner, my son.]

My mom was dead.

So… who is this? 

Who was pretending to be my mother and texting me? And Dad—? Dad died in a car accident. I remembered it vividly—his labored breaths, the moment his heart stopped, the relentless beep of the machine echoing like tinnitus. I haven’t forgotten any of it.

Where did it all go wrong?

“Hajae-hyung.”

A hand grabbed my shoulder, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Oh, sorry.”

Afraid my awkward smile might seem suspicious, I averted my gaze and happened to look out the window. A lake, surrounded by lush trees, sparkled in the sunlight. Its gently rippling surface seemed to tease at a memory just out of reach.

“Sang-ah. Was there originally a lake there?”

A sudden headache struck, and I pressed my temples as Simeon let out a sigh.

“What are you talking about? We had coffee there yesterday.”

“…Did we?”

“You’re really weird today, hyung.”

“Sorry, sorry. I guess I’m still half-asleep.”

I offered a sheepish smile, and Simeon ruffled my hair as if he had no choice. Even so, his gaze kept drifting toward the lake.

We drank coffee there? The two of us? I don’t think we had any particularly good memories by that lake. The memories were gone, leaving only lingering emotions. As I stared at the lake, lost in thought, Simeon set his bag down on the desk.

“Hey, Hyung.”

Something colorful peeked out of the slightly open bag.

“What should I call your parents? It’d be kind of weird to address them as ‘Father-in-law’ or ‘Mother-in-law’ right from the start, right?”

It was a twelve-sided cube. The gift I gave him on his birthday.

“I just hope I don’t mess up.”

I suddenly reached into the bag and pulled out the cube.

“Why do you still have this?”

I asked in a questioning tone, as if accusing him. Simeon scratched the back of his neck with a bashful smile.

“You gave it to me, Hyung. I carry it with me all the time. I don’t want to lose it, you know?”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

This is something that shouldn’t exist in the world anymore. It was completely burned, without even ashes left behind.

“Hyung?”

At that moment, a splitting headache struck me as if my head were about to shatter. A spark flashed, lighting up the dark void in my mind. Memories hidden behind a thick fog began to surface one by one. They were agonizing enough for me to wish they’d stayed buried, yet precious enough that I could never truly want to forget them.

“Are you listening to me?”

When it all came rushing back, every element of my surroundings sent a shiver down my spine. The lecture hall, Simeon, even the warmth of his hand grasping my wrist. I shoved his hand away roughly, leaning back to put distance between us. Simeon’s voice trembled as he spoke, clearly startled.

“Hyung, what’s wrong? Why are you acting like this all of a sudden?”

But I wasn’t swayed anymore.

“Who… are you?”

The moment I spat out the question that had been stuck inside my throat, the air around us turned ice cold.

A heavy silence fell. Simeon… no, the thing wearing his face darted its eyes, seemingly caught off guard.

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“Who are you?”

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden? You’re scaring me.”

“The one who should be scared isn’t you. It’s me.”

When it reached out its hand again, I instinctively recoiled, pulling my upper body back.

“Disgusting.”

“…Hyung.”

“Don’t call me that.”

For a fleeting moment, I desperately wished this were real. I told myself the memories would return in time, and maybe I could just savor the present. But that complacency made me angrier. My rage wasn’t directed at the thing that had infiltrated my subconscious; it was directed at me. I was angry at myself for still clinging to hope.

“This is all fake. Right?”

When my voice rose, its face twisted. The hurt expression he tried to hide behind indifference looked so much like Simeon’s that my chest ached despite knowing it was an act. Perhaps because it was so convincingly real, I deliberately acted harsher.

“My parents are long gone. My mom left before I was even old enough to understand what was happening.”

“……”

“And what? We promised to get married at Jeongdong Cathedral?”

Laughter surged from deep within, bursting out uncontrollably like a sneeze.

“Haha! That’s ridiculous. As if something like that could happen.”

It was laughable, wasn’t it? That all of this was just my own delusions.

After laughing until the classroom seemed to tremble, a hollow emptiness settled over me. My eyes stung as tears welled up and eventually rolled down my cheeks. I roughly wiped them away with the back of my hand with a careless gesture, only for the thing in front of me to reach out to me again.

“Hyung.”

“…Stay away from me.”

“Please, don’t do this.”

“I said, get away from me!”

I grabbed a pen from the desk and swung it wildly. The tip glinted sharply like a blade as I aimed it at him.

“Please let me wake up from this dream.”

What was this thing before me? Was it the snake I saw in the lake just before I lost consciousness? Whatever it was, if it planned to keep me trapped here, I’d have to destroy it. I must cut it down. Only then can I escape this hell and return to protect the real Simeon, who’s likely lying alone by the lake.

“What do you mean this is a dream? This is reality.”

Was it still trying to deceive me? Without hesitation, I pressed the pen’s tip into my palm. As if to prove this wasn’t real, I felt no pain, no sensation. I pushed harder until the nib pierced through the calloused skin.

The figure in front of me grabbed my wrist urgently.

“Hyung, what are you doing? Are you crazy?”

“Let go!”

I shoved it away with my shoulder and brandished the pen like a knife. The trembling tip dripped with blood, forming a tiny puddle on the floor. My hand was soaked—whether with sweat or blood, I couldn’t tell anymore.

This much should be enough. If he could be summoned, he’ll come now.

“…Mujeong. You’re there, aren’t you?”

I stared into the void, speaking as if calling someone. But no one appeared.

“Who’s Mujeong?”

“Jung-ah. Come out. Please.”

Despite my desperate plea, the classroom remained silent. My last resort vanished in vain. In that moment of distraction, the thing pulled me into its arms. The more I struggled to break free, the tighter it held me.

“Come to your senses, Hyung.”

“…Stop.”

“Who are you looking for when I’m right here?”

Even the cool, wintry scent emanating from it was the same. I shut my eyes tightly.

I knew this embrace, yet I didn’t.

“Please, just stop….”

Isn’t this what they call cruel hope? Perhaps I’d known the truth behind this discrepancy all along. But I’d ignored it, indulging the possibility that this might all be a dream. Because it was too blissful.

“Am I not enough for you?”

“You’re more than enough… too much, even.”

“Then why not just stay here with me?”

The happiness was overwhelming, spilling over, impossible to contain. Living parents, Sang by my side, living without having to hide my feelings. This utopia I’d always dreamed of lay before me—who could resist such a paradise? But in the end, a delusion is just that: a delusion.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“…Because I can’t leave him waiting any longer.”

I struggled to break free from its hold, but it clung to me stubbornly.

“I like you.”

No.

“So please, stay by my side, Hyung.”

This shadow, this mirage, isn’t what I want.

‘If I’m truly important to you, then don’t abandon yourself—not for my sake.’

He was the one who never gave up on me, even when I constantly tried to escape. Surely, even now, he was waiting for me. The real him, the one that shared my memories, was waiting in the real world. I couldn’t make him wait any longer—not after six years.

“I’m sorry.”

I whispered softly and drove the pen’s tip into the hollow of its throat. Blood sprayed like a fountain as its pallid face wavered and dissolved like ripples on water.

When I opened my eyes, I was underwater. Instinctively holding my breath, I looked around. At the bottom of the dark lake, a massive snake coiled and stared up at me. The moment I gasped in shock, bubbles clouded my vision.

Someone grabbed me by the nape and pulled me upward. The moment I broke the surface, I saw a familiar face and instinctively thrashed. But before long, my wrists were firmly restrained.

“Stay calm.”

As I met the serene, dark eyes, my ragged breathing gradually steadied.

“Simeon…?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

The face was the same. The voice was the same. But everything felt completely different.

“This is…”

“It’s ‘Fraud’, the ninth circle of hell. The moment I woke up, I saw you dunking your head into the lake, Mr. Hajae.”

So, I must have lost consciousness and slipped into the dream in that state. If it had taken even a little longer, I might have fallen into a coma due to lack of oxygen. Simeon, evidently shaken, let out a sigh as he stared at me in silence for a few moments. Eventually, he took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the water off my face.

“It’s a good thing Mujeong held onto you; it could’ve been a real disaster otherwise.”

Now that the real Simeon was in front of me, the situation in the dream seemed all the more ridiculous.

“If I’d lost you while you were asleep, I…”

Would he believe me if I told him? That something with his voice, with his face, confessed his feelings to me. Would he know that, unconsciously, I was waiting for his confession despite being afraid to face the truth? He wouldn’t, would he? I only realized it myself today.

When I suddenly let out a laugh, Simeon’s brow twitched slightly.

“Mr. Hajae?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you looking at me and suddenly laughing?”

“Just… I finally feel at ease now.”

How strange. A restrained voice like his sounds better to me than an endlessly gentle one. Something must be wrong with my head.

“More importantly, are you alright? Any trouble breathing or talking?”

“I’m fine. Everything’s back to normal.”

Simeon rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, showing me his forearms. The skin, which had turned to bark, was now completely smooth again. Running my fingertips slowly over his arm, I sighed deeply as though the weight in my chest had lifted.

“…Thank goodness.”

“Are you sure you’re alright, Mr. Hajae? You’re not feeling dizzy or anything…?”

“Thanks to you, I’m alive. Thank you. And, of course, Mujeong, too.”

Glancing to the side, I saw Mujeong looking down at me with arms crossed. His sleeves and the long hem of his robe were drenched with water. 

“Sorry.” 

I muttered sheepishly, forcing an awkward smile. Mujeong merely twitched one corner of his lips and shook his head.

“I know it sounds like an excuse, but I went to the lake to try and wake myself up a bit but ended up losing consciousness instead.”

“Wait, did you look inside the lake?”

I nodded gravely.

“There was something that looked like a snake in there.”

“That’s probably Narcissus.”

Frowning at the unfamiliar name, I noticed Simeon glancing toward the lake.

“After all, the spirit that created this layer is tied to the <Scale of Narcissus>.”

Once upon a time, a monster resembling a snake lived in a lake. The villagers believed it grew angry whenever there was heavy rain, so they offered live sacrifices to appease it. But as they grew reluctant to sacrifice their neighbors and families, they came up with a scheme.

“They spread a false rumor, saying that if you looked into the lake, you’d see whatever you desired most.”

People from outside, tempted by the rumor, would approach the lake themselves. The moment they leaned in close, the monster would eagerly drag its prey into the depths. Since it looked like they were diving into the lake, entranced by their reflection, the monster earned the name ‘Narcissus,’ after the figure from Greek mythology.

“Every year, it killed dozens of people. The bottom of the lake became littered with bones.”

Truly, a hell comprised of deception. The lakefront looked so beautiful and serene, only because all the sinners had sunk to the very bottom. Just imagining that I might have ended up the same way sent shivers down my spine. At that moment, Simeon suddenly asked.

“So, what did you see, Mr. Hajae?”

Countless words rose to my throat but refused to come out.

“I… contacted my parents, who were alive. They wanted to have dinner together.”

“And what else?”

“That’s all.”

Simeon dropped his gaze, nodding as if disappointed.

How could I tell him? That in the dream, we’d been lovers for a year. That we’d entered the same university, introduced each other to our families, and received their acceptance without opposition, despite being a same-sex couple. That we’d even dreamed of going abroad to get married. My subconscious must be more hopelessly romantic than I thought.

Simeon spoke, gesturing toward the lake.

“The way out is probably down there.” 

“But Narcissus is in there.”

“Don’t worry. It doesn’t touch the living. It waits until they drown and then feasts on their body.”

So, was it waiting for me to drown earlier as it stared up at me from the bottom of the lake? Perhaps it didn’t want to dirty its hands. For a monster, its feeding habits were oddly refined. Still, I was grateful there wouldn’t be any fighting underwater.

“Finally, we’ll be entering the last layer.”

As I stood by the lakeside, ready to dive in, Simeon cautiously spoke.

“Mr. Hajae.”

When I turned, I was met with a pair of earnest eyes.

“Was that really all you saw?”

“What I saw?”

“…In the dream.”

His slowly blinking eyes seemed to be searching for something, hoping for an answer.

“Did I appear in your dream?”

Did he catch my lie? Or was he fishing for information? As always, I gave him a carefully curated piece of truth.

“Ah, now that you mention it, I think I saw you briefly.”

“Where?”

“In front of a lecture hall.”

Simeon’s brow furrowed slightly as though the location didn’t make much sense to him.

“We were attending the same university.”

The more I thought about it, the more absurd it seemed, and I couldn’t help but laugh helplessly despite my furrowed brow.

“Such a strange dream, huh?”

I slowly shook my head and jumped into the lake first. Simeon, who immediately followed me, gently held my hand, but I paid no mind to it as I pressed forward into the abyss, unable to bring myself to check the expression on his face.

The moment I arrived at the new location, I barely had time to take in my surroundings before I was overtaken by the urge to check my watch. 

[Remaining time: 4 hours.]

It felt like a week had passed since we entered <Divine Comedy>, but it’d only been 68 hours. What a strange feeling.

“Let’s hurry up and finish this so we can go back.”

Taking a deep breath, I scanned the area. The scenery was unlike anything I’d seen before.

Surrounding an overwhelmingly vast square were multiple ancient palaces. The walls were red, the roofs golden. Beneath the eaves were intricate cyan and green patterns, and a giant plaque displayed Chinese characters whose meaning eluded me. Only then did I realize the stone path beneath my feet was an imperial road meant solely for an emperor.

“What kind of spirit item would lead us to a place like this?”

“It’s known as <Contradiction>.”

“Oh! That… story about the spear and the shield, right?”

Simeon nodded.

A merchant from the state of Cho once sold an unbreakable shield and a spear that could pierce anything. One of the people present asked what would happen if you stabbed the shield with the spear, a question which the merchant couldn’t answer. It was a classic tale.

“There’s a lesser-known ending to that story.”

“What is it?”

“The emperor, curious about the answer to that question, summoned the merchant to the palace.”

He ordered two of his most skilled generals to duel—one armed with the spear, the other with the shield—promising great rewards to the victor. Thus, under the emperor’s watchful eye, the general who wielded the spear and the general who wielded the shield, who were longtime comrades-in-arms, began their battle.

“Who won?”

“The duel lasted two days and nights without a clear winner.”

As it turned out, the generals were evenly matched and knew each other’s tactics well from years of fighting side by side. Neither could gain the upper hand. Eventually, neither the spear nor the shield broke, and the generals collapsed simultaneously.

“So it ended in a draw?”

“It would’ve been better that way, but the emperor ordered them to rest for half a day, and then they were to fight again.”

At that point, it wasn’t about the weapon breaking but about one of them succumbing to exhaustion first.

“On the third day, the battle finally ended.”

“I expected it to last longer than that.”

“Right. And the one that broke was… the spear.”

A surprising result. If the spear broke, it meant the contradiction was resolved.

“The Shield General was rewarded with enough wealth for his family to live in luxury for three generations.”

“And the general who wielded the spear?”

“He was demoted.”

“Why? What did he do wrong?”

He only fought and lost, following the emperor’s orders. Isn’t demotion too harsh a punishment?

“Well, that was still better than the merchant’s fate.”

“Why? What happened to him?”

“He was executed for deceiving the emperor.”

I swallowed back any comments about the unfairness of the demotion. The merchant’s fate was pitiable, but it still seemed like any ordinary cautionary tale. Yet this place wasn’t just any place—it was one of the deepest levels of hell, reserved for traitors to their nation or their own kin.

“From what I’ve heard, calling it fraud seems more fitting than betrayal.”

“It would have been… if that were the end of the story.”

Simeon gazed meaningfully at the palace.

“It was later discovered that the general who held the shield had betrayed his comrade.”

“How?”

“He secretly swapped the spear during the rest period. So the spear he faced wasn’t the merchant’s spear but an ordinary one.”

As a result, the Shield General’s wealth was confiscated, and his entire family was executed. The Spear General, who’d been wrongfully demoted, was reinstated but died of an inexplicable illness not long after. The betrayal by his longtime friend likely left a deep scar on him.

“That’s why, when you enter <Contradiction>’s rift, you have to reenact the duel.”

“You mean only one person can survive?”

Simeon nodded grimly.

“To return alive, you have to either betray your opponent or sacrifice yourself.”

Now, it felt like a spirit worthy of its own hell. It was perhaps the cruelest one we’d encountered.

What was worse, those who entered the fissure were often guildmates. Whether awkward acquaintances or longtime comrades, someone you knew had to die for you to escape.

“<Contradiction>’s form changes depending on what the survivor holds upon emerging.”

“What’s its current form?”

“A shield. I heard it was resolved in record time…”

Perhaps the spear-wielding hunter was too strong, or maybe the shield-wielder resorted to a cunning trick like the Shield General. Whatever the case, their guild lost a member. Fortunately, neither Simeon, an Apostle, nor I had to enter <Contradiction>’s rift.

“Let’s find the exit.”

Simeon led the way. Though quiet now, danger could appear at any moment. I gripped my dagger tightly, scanning my surroundings. Despite walking halfway down the imperial road, the palace remained eerily silent.

Something felt off, and just as I turned and was about to call out to Simeon—

“Huh…?”

When did he get so far ahead? He’d been right in front of me, but now Simeon was out of reach. Had I walked too slowly? I hurried to catch up, but my body froze like stone.

“Ugh.”

No matter how I struggled, my muscles only trembled.

“Simeon! Wait!”

I shouted until my throat hurt, but he didn’t turn back. The palace was soon shrouded in mist, and Simeon’s figure vanished entirely. As I flailed in the fog, chains shot from the ground and bound my hands.

A majestic voice echoed from above as if delivering divine judgment.

“Sinners shall remain in hell.”

Chains pulled me to my knees, and shackles clamped around my ankles. I thrashed desperately, the clinking of metal echoing around me, but nothing changed.

“Mujeong? Are you there?”

Silence. I was alone again. Why? Why only me? As I fought to free myself, a commanding voice came from beyond the mist.

“Raise your head, sinner.”

The sheer authority sent a chill down my spine. Forcing my stiff neck to move, I looked up. The fog parted to reveal someone standing atop the stairs.

They wore flowing black robes embroidered with blue dragons, their face obscured by jade beads cascading from a crown. It was the emperor from <Contradiction>.

“How dare you return to this sacred place.”

His overwhelming presence made my head throb. When I blinked, I found myself surrounded by hundreds of soldiers, their weapons aimed at me.

“Execute the sinner’s family!”

Their cries drowned out my protests.

“Death to the sinner!”

The emperor raised his hand. With a simple flick of his finger, countless weapons would pierce me.

“Wait, I—”

Before I could finish, a thunderous voice rang out.

“Get down!”

What sounded like a woman’s voice echoed through the fortress. I quickly bent over and flattened myself against the ground. A shadow passed right above my head. Glancing up, I caught sight of a woman with long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her silk garments billowed as she soared through the air. For a moment, I thought she might’ve been an angel or some other celestial being. 

But in the next instant, I changed my mind. She looked more like the God of War.

“A spear…?”

Even hundreds of soldiers were no match for her. With the agility of a hawk, she swiftly severed the soldiers’ necks one after another. Every time she swung her enormous spear, the red tassel at its tip traced a perfect arc without a single misstep. Powerful and breathtaking. It was a shock akin to the first time I witnessed Mujeong’s swordsmanship.

Could she be one of the guards? Mesmerized by her dazzling spear technique, I was utterly spellbound when she suddenly turned in my direction. The moment her fiery gaze locked with mine, my shoulders flinched instinctively. She leaped gracefully into the air and landed right in front of me, unexpectedly swinging her spear.

“Ahh! W-Wait a sec…!”

Whiiish—!

CRACK—!

The sharp blade of her spear shattered the shackles binding my hands and ankles in an instant. How could iron be sliced apart like a twig? Dumbfounded, I could only stare at the broken chains until her low, growling voice sounded above me.

“If you want to live, run.”

I swallowed dryly. I didn’t know who she was or whether she was an ally or an enemy. But staying here to be crushed by the soldiers seemed like a worse fate. I quickly scrambled to my feet and followed her, escaping the plaza.

After running for quite some time, we arrived at a warehouse.

“Thank you. You saved my life.”

Panting heavily, I bowed in gratitude. She turned to face me sharply, her piercing gaze still ablaze. Overwhelmed by her charisma, I cautiously observed her. Suddenly, she strode toward me.

“Are you hurt?”

“N-No, I’m okay.”

As I quietly hid my wrists, raw from the iron cuffs, behind my back, she broke into a wide smile.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

“…What? Oh, yes, of course.”

“Haha!” 

She laughed boldly and gave my back a hearty pat. The force was so strong that my upper body jolted. Her demeanor was so different from when she was wielding her spear that I couldn’t even voice the pain. Staring at her with my mouth agape, I watched as she slammed her spear into the ground and crossed her arms.

“I was so shocked. It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen a living person.”

Seeing a living person here shocked her? So, does she think she’s dead? In this level of hell, the dead were sinners—they were lost, without any will, and they acted like beasts. But she was different. Her eyes were bright and intelligent, and she even spoke clearly.

Who on earth was she? Trying to hide my suspicion, I stole a glance at her. Suddenly, she extended her hand.

“Yuran Choi.”

“Oh, uh, I’m Hajae Shin.” 

I stammered, grasping her hand reflexively. I tilted my head, belatedly realizing how odd I must have looked. 

She shook my hand up and down briskly and laughed heartily.

“You were looking at me so suspiciously, I figured I’d introduce myself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It makes sense to be suspicious of someone in a place dedicated to betrayal.”

At that moment, the sound of multiple footsteps running reached us from a distance. Soldiers, no doubt, combing the area. Pressing myself against the wall, I glanced nervously out the window, but she waved her hand dismissively in the air.

“Don’t worry. They won’t find this place.”

Even if this warehouse was safe, I couldn’t stay here forever. Checking my watch, I saw I had about three hours left. There was still time, but another concern weighed on my mind.

“My partner is out there. He’s probably looking for me. If he runs into the soldiers…”

“Don’t worry. Everyone’s too focused on finding you to notice any other intruder.”

“Is that… a good thing?”

Should I be relieved or not? I bit my lip nervously, prompting her to tilt her head curiously.

“By the way, did you do something to the Emperor? You’re being called a criminal.”

“I’m not sure. They think I deceived the Emperor, but I have no memory of doing that.”

“Hm, that’s odd. Did you ever encounter <Contradiction> before coming here?”

“Not at all. I didn’t even know <Contradiction> existed until I got here.”

Every warden in this hell kept urging me to confess my sins. I thought they meant admitting to the lies I’d told throughout my life. But suddenly, being accused of deceiving the Emperor? It was bewildering.

Yuran touched her chin, deep in thought, then gave a small nod.

“Anyway, I’ll help you get out when the sun sets.”

Her words made my eyes widen.

“Do you know where the escape route is?”

“There’s a door behind the throne.”

“Can we make it there safely?”

She looked up at the sky with sharp eyes. In this hell, even the sun seemed unnaturally bright and tilted.

“Their power comes from the Emperor… or rather, the sun. They grow weaker as it sets.”

“How much longer until sunset?”

“Not too long.”

So, it wasn’t possible to escape immediately. Frustrated, I clenched my fists. If only I had <Bloodletting Sword>, maybe we could’ve cut through the soldiers crowding the throne together. But no matter how much I called, Mujeong didn’t appear.

Yuran patted my shoulder lightly as I sighed.

“Trust me, I’ll get you out. I’ve been eating the food here for years.”

Her bright laughter revealed neat teeth behind her thick lips. She seemed… like a good person.

“Thank you… uh, ma’am…?”

“Haha! ‘Ma’am,’ seriously?”

“Then… Yuran-Noona?”

“Ugh, that’s even worse. Call me auntie. That sounds better.”

Honestly, she didn’t look old enough to be called “auntie.” At most, she seemed in her early thirties. Her clothes made her appear even younger—a blue hanfu, her straight black hair now parted perfectly down the middle, and a jade hairpin twisted with silver thread. She looked like someone straight out of the <Contradiction> era.

“Are you a warden here?”

“Haha, no. That Emperor you saw is the warden.”

“Then…?”

“Well, let’s just say I’m an illegal resident.”

“What?”

Confused, I blinked at her, but she only smirked nonchalantly.

“I’ve been trapped inside <Contradiction> for quite a while.”

“Trapped? In a spirit item?”

“I got caught up in a mission and couldn’t get out of the rift.”

She spoke of being stuck in a rift as casually as someone discussing a delayed flight. But to even enter a rift…

“Are you a hunter?”

“Pfft, you’re only asking that now?”

She chuckled softly, then put her hands on her hips and spoke proudly.

“I was pretty famous back in the day. Not that anyone remembers now.”

Meeting someone in Dante’s <Divine Comedy> who wasn’t a sinner, much less a hunter, was beyond unexpected. Knowing she lived in the same era as me was oddly both comforting and unsettling.

“How long have you been here?”

“I’m not sure about how long it’s been in the real world, but in this place, it’s been over ten years.”

As I thought, it was weird. Awakened individuals could endure the rift for a while, but living here was impossible.

“May I ask you something?”

“Sure. Haha, after so long, it feels like I’m giving an interview or something.”

“It’s a bit of an intrusive question, though…”

“Haha, no worries. Troubling reporters was my specialty.”

Her easy nod gave me the courage to speak.

“Isn’t your body supposed to start breaking down after 72 hours in the rift?”

“That’s right. I haven’t seen it myself, but I’ve heard about it.”

“Then why…?”

Why is your body still intact? I couldn’t bring myself to say it. Sensing my hesitation, she smiled slyly.

“Why am I still alive, you mean?”

I nodded, and she stroked her chin thoughtfully before glancing aside.

“I’ve wondered the same thing for a long time. Then I had a thought.”

“What thought?”

“Maybe I’ve defied the laws of nature so nature can’t reclaim me.”

The laws of nature… Someone had mentioned something similar before. As I tried to recall, she leaned closer with an enigmatic smile.

“I used <Divine Comedy> to turn back time… just like you’re doing.”

What?

I froze, staring at her wide-eyed. She covered her mouth, laughing at my reaction.

“Why are you so surprised? Did you think you were the first to use it?”

“No… but…”

When I first heard about <Divine Comedy>, I fleetingly wondered if the present I lived in was a future someone had altered. And now, it seemed like that was true.

“How did you know I used <Divine Comedy>?”

“That’s the only way for a living person to enter this layer of hell.”

So that’s why she helped me. But if she used <Divine Comedy>, how did she end up trapped inside a spirit item?

“How did you end up trapped in <Contradiction>?”

“You’re more curious than you look.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… You don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable.”

I quickly waved my hands in apology, and she stared at me for a moment before smiling slyly.

“Really?”

“…Pardon?”

“Would you really be okay if I didn’t answer? Once we get out of here, you’ll never see me again.”

Her playful face, winking and scrunching her nose, was brimming with mischief. I could see exactly why she was known for making journalists’ lives difficult. Licking my dry lips, I gave in and spoke honestly.

“…Then, please, just tell me.”

“Haha, all right. We still have time before the sun sets.”

She sat down casually on the dusty warehouse floor, and I followed suit, sitting near the door.

“You know the origin of <Contradiction>, right?”

“Yes. I’ve heard you have to recreate the conflict that birthed the spirit.”

“Then this will be quick.”

She spoke as she slowly ran her hand along the spear she’d placed on the ground.

“When the <Contradiction>’s rift opened in Kaesong, our guild was lucky enough to get first entry rights. I still remember the guild leader going wild with excitement that day. It was honestly embarrassing to watch.”

“The guild leader?”

“Yeah, that crazy old man.”

She clicked her tongue in distaste, her face briefly flashing with contempt.

“He was obsessed with getting his hands on <Contradiction>.”

“What kind of ability does it have?”

“The owner of <Contradiction> can never be caught lying. People might suspect, but that’s all it remains as—suspicion.”

Even if there’s proof to expose the lie, it vanishes instantly. Witnesses lose any memory of evidence that could incriminate the owner.

“That’s… a dangerous artifact.”

“This line of work is full of people who love that kind of thing.”

She shrugged and continued.

“The guild leader offered to pay a fortune to anyone willing to go into the fracture. But no one stepped up.”

“I wouldn’t go in either.”

“Right?”

I firmly shook my head, and she chimed in eagerly as if waiting for my agreement. It wasn’t the kind of place anyone would willingly enter unless they were willing to risk their life—or worse. It wasn’t just about danger. It was the guarantee that either you or your companion would have to die.

“But one of our guild members volunteered.”

“Volunteered? They weren’t coerced?”

“Nope. That was just how they were. Always the first to tackle the jobs no one else wanted.”

She let out a small laugh, but her expression held a hint of sadness.

“Even if it meant breaking their own arm, they’d save the other person first, no questions asked.”

“Haha…”

“Whether they were too kind or just plain foolish, I don’t know. But for some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off them.”

Lost in her recollection, she blinked slowly, her smile deepening. Even reminiscing seemed to make her genuinely happy. Hearing her, I couldn’t help but think of someone myself.

“I think I understand.”

“Do you?”

“My mom was kind of like that. It gave my dad quite a hard time.”

I’d only ever heard about my mom from my dad when I was young, but I knew how selfless she’d been. The woman slapped her thigh and laughed as she nodded in agreement.

“See? Those kinds of people especially need a trusted person to lean on, someone to keep them grounded.”

“Were you their grounding force?”

She smiled brightly and nodded.

“That’s why I decided to go too.”

“…Into the rift?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t let that idiot go alone.”

As soon as she finished speaking, her smile dried up. Her face turned somber, and her gaze settled down onto the dusty floor. 

After a long silence, she spoke again, her voice heavy.

“That was a mistake.”

A shadow was cast over her lowered eyes.

“Honestly, I went in with the resolve to die. So, like always, when I thought about my friend trying to sacrifice themselves, I felt uneasy. But… as soon as we stepped inside, that kid picked up the shield first. And you know what they said?”

A faint, humorless smile played on Yuran’s lips.

“Let’s fight without holding back.”

That was unexpected. Based on her earlier descriptions, her friend seemed like a deeply self-sacrificing person. In the face of death, it seemed like nature and friendship might not matter. I thought she might have been hurt by that, but instead, Yuran blushed and gripped her spear tightly.

“Ah, it was so much fun.”

“…Fun, you say?”

“Yeah. I’d sparred with her a few times before, but this was the first time we fought with our lives on the line.”

To think she enjoyed sparring so purely. Somehow, I felt she’d get along well with Yulia.

“And then?”

“The match went on for two days without a resolution, so we had no choice but to rest for half a day.”

“Just like the origin of <Contradiction>.”

“Maybe that’s why the Emperor found it so fascinating to watch.”

Watching from afar as two people fought a life-or-death battle, urging one of them to die—no sane person would act that way. I suppressed my discomfort and frowned. A sharp grinding of teeth accompanied her biting words.

“What a disgusting bastard. It’s not his life on the line, after all.”

I could guess the outcome. She went into the rift with the intent to sacrifice herself, so even if she lost, she would have accepted the result. Yet, in the end, she collected <Divine Comedy> and altered the past. Which meant—

“…You won, didn’t you?”

Her hand trembled as she gripped the spear.

“Honestly, my friend was better than me. But I still won.”

“What happened?”

She closed her eyes tightly and bit her lip. Her face contorted into an expression of pain and anguish as though she were wrestling with something too heavy to bear. After a brief silence, she exhaled a deep sigh and spoke softly, as if releasing her breath along with her words.

“After our break ended and we resumed the match, I realized something.”

Her voice, once steady, trembled as though suppressing her emotions.

“My friend wasn’t carrying <Contradiction>’s shield, she brought an ordinary one from the armory.”

A bitter smile flickered across her trembling lips.

“I easily destroyed it. The shield, and… my friend too.”

Her face twisted in misery, leaving me speechless. No words of comfort could reach her. I cautiously reached out and ran a hand along her arm. Abruptly, she let out a hollow laugh.

“Ha, ha…” Her laugh broke off in staccato bursts, echoing like the sound of sobs.

“Wasn’t it so cowardly of her? She was the one who insisted we fight without holding back.”

In the end, Yuran hadn’t betrayed her friend. Her friend chose sacrifice. Or perhaps, in a way, betrayal.

“After I came out alive, I hated everything. The Emperor, who forced us into a fight to the death. The guild master who joyously clung to <Contradiction>, even though a comrade had died. And… her, for making such a stupid decision.”

She sighed deeply and rubbed her face as if trying to regain her composure.

“I even thought about following her in death, but… then I discovered <Divine Comedy>.”

“You completed it on your own?”

“Yes. I didn’t want anyone else to get caught up in my selfish choices.”

She repeated a cycle of deep breaths, her voice sinking into an almost whisper.

“It took seven years. I never rested, not for a single moment, and it still took that long.”

“That’s similar to how it was for us. Except I joined partway through.”

“Really?”

For the first time, a faint smile returned to her face.

“What period did you go to?”

“Right before entering <Contradiction’s> rift.”

“So, did you fight your friend again in the rift?”

“No, there wasn’t enough time for that. You know how brief the time allowed in Heaven is.”

Only 24 hours. There wasn’t enough time for an extended match, let alone a break. If she took a break, her friend might once again choose an ordinary shield instead of <Contradiction>. Among countless variables, how could she ensure her friend’s survival?

“Did you deliberately lose?”

“No, they would’ve noticed immediately.”

“Then what did you do?”

She had to avoid suspicion, finish within 24 hours, and ensure his survival. Just as I racked my brain for a solution, she said something unimaginable.

“As soon as the match began, I used <Contradiction>’s spear to slit my own throat.”

“What? Why would you—?”

“I had no choice. It was the only way to make sure I lost.”

It was proven after several iterations. The spear couldn’t pierce the shield, and the shield couldn’t block the spear. But the contest ends only when one of them dies. So to create the outcome she desired, she chose the most direct route.

“Does that count?”

“Why wouldn’t it? Honestly, I kinda wanted to stab the emperor, too.”

She chuckled quietly, as though sharing a secret.

“Sure enough, the emperor flew into a rage. He said I’d dared to defy an imperial decree.”

The emperor had ordered the two generals to duel over <Contradiction>. Most hunters who had entered the rift likely fought to the death in obedience to such decrees. But not only had she refused to fight, she’d angered the emperor further by surrendering her life in his presence, despite swearing loyalty to him.

“Did your friend make it out safely?”

“Thankfully, yes. I suppose the emperor wanted to save face because he did let my friend go as promised.”

She shrugged lightly.

“But he said I’d be punished by divine wrath for mocking him.”

“Divine wrath…?”

“Maybe he meant getting trapped in the rift?”

She tilted her head, as if even now she wasn’t entirely sure what “divine wrath” entailed.

“Honestly, I didn’t care. I just… as long as she got out, it didn’t matter.”

For years, Yuran had been hunted like a criminal, constantly pursued by soldiers. Yet even now, all she seemed concerned about was her friend’s safety. It made sense—someone like her was the kind of person her friend would have willingly died for.

“What if your friend used <Divine Comedy> to rewrite the past just like you did?”

“Unfortunately, that’s impossible. It’s one of the rules of <Divine Comedy>.”

A past or future that’s been altered once cannot be reversed. It seemed like that rule was a source of reassurance to her, though she didn’t know her friend’s current circumstances, she could rest easy knowing the victim of <Contradiction> wouldn’t change again.

“Do you have any regrets?”

“So many.”

To my surprise, she answered without hesitation.

“Chicken.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m really craving fried chicken. And I miss the Americano they used to make at my favorite café… My savings and deposits are about to mature, too, and I can’t even collect them. Oh, and do you know how the drama The Lies My Wife Told Me ends?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t really watch dramas….”

“Ugh, why couldn’t I have just seen the last episode?”

She sighed, her lips curling in a pout. I wanted to do something to repay her for saving my life, but there was nothing I could offer. As I watched her, she suddenly smiled faintly and muttered to herself.

“More than anything, I regret missing her wedding.”

“Her wedding?”

“She told me she had a boyfriend. I told her to hurry up and get married, have kids, and live happily.”

Her warm smile resembled that of a proud parent sitting in the front row at their child’s wedding.

“If she listened to me, her kid would be all grown up by now. Maybe she had a daughter? Or maybe a son?”

A thought struck me suddenly—maybe there was something I could do for her.

“If you could see your friend again, is there anything you’d want to say to her?”

“So much. I could probably fill a whole box with letters. But… why?”

“If I manage to get out of here, I’ll deliver your message to her.”

“Really?”

Her eyes widened in excitement, sparkling like coins catching the light.

“Of course.”

As I nodded enthusiastically, she looked deep in thought, her expression serious as she rested her chin on her hand.

“Uh… hold on. I can’t think of anything now.”

“Take your time. You have until sunset.”

“Right. I’ll do that.”

Her radiant smile lifted my spirits. I felt relief knowing I could finally repay her in some way. She clapped her hand onto my shoulder and winked playfully.

“I’ve got to get you out of here now. I need to nag her properly.”

Seeing the confidence in her eyes, a buried worry suddenly resurfaced.

“We can really escape from here, right?”

“Why? Don’t you trust me yet?”

“It’s not that…”

As I closed my eyes, the memories of everything I’d been through flashed by like a revolving lantern.

‘Only those who admit their sins and seek forgiveness will be allowed to ascend the mountain… Those who do not atone will remain in hell forever.’

‘If you’ve committed a sin confess it now. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck here forever.’

I’d heard far too many ominous warnings. They kept telling me to atone, but how could I do that when I didn’t even know what my supposed sin was? It felt like being wrongly accused, left with no choice but to repeat, “I don’t know anything,” like a fool.

“What’s wrong? What did they say?”

When I told her what the guards had said, her face darkened.

“Even the other guards said that?”

“Yes. They said that only sacrifice could save me if I didn’t atone.”

Did she know something? Her eyes darted frantically for a moment as if putting pieces together.

But then, a commotion erupted outside. The sound of countless footsteps approached, accompanied by the metallic clinking of armor. 

Dozens of soldiers were coming our way.

The inside of the warehouse fell silent as if doused with water. Fortunately, the soldiers passed by without suspecting anything, but there was no guarantee of safety forever. As the sound of footsteps faded, she gripped her spear with a resolute expression and stood up.

“Wait here for a moment. I’ll go clear the area.”

I grasped the dagger tucked into my back pocket and got up to follow her.

“I’ll go with you.”

“It’s okay. I’ve always preferred fighting alone.”

Even as she said that, I knew the truth. Without <Bloodletting Sword>, I would only be a burden. She was politely refusing me for the sake of my pride, and I had no choice but to let her go.

“Then… be careful.”

“I feel like an aunt leaving her nephew at home before work.”

She gave her characteristic refreshing laugh before stepping out of the warehouse alone.

How much time had passed since then? Through the dust-covered window, I could see the sky gradually turning red.

“She should be back by now…”

Checking my wristwatch, I realized that two hours had already passed. I had thought she’d return quickly, but there was no sign of her. Worse still, I was running out of time. I’d been inside <Divine Comedy> for 71 hours already. In just one more hour, my body would begin to break apart.

I had to decide—should I wait for her a bit longer or head toward the throne by myself?

“Jeong-ah.”

Just in case, I called her name, but only dust stirred in the wind in response. A sudden wave of helplessness made my hand tremble around the dagger. Could I really break through the soldiers without <Bloodletting Sword>? If I got caught and failed to escape…

‘Can’t we find a way to survive together?’

Yes. Instead of calculating the thousands of ways I could die, I should think of the one way I could live.

“Hoo.” 

Just as I exhaled slowly and resolved to leave, there was a clatter outside the warehouse. I immediately gripped my dagger and hid behind the door. Was it just one person? Whoever it was, if I attacked suddenly, I had a chance of winning. Swallowing dryly, I pressed myself against the wall as the door slowly creaked open.

Stay calm. Wait for the right moment. As soon as they step inside, aim for the vital point. Holding my breath, I tightened my grip on the dagger—

“Hajae?”

The moment I heard that familiar voice, it was as if a taut string inside me snapped, and I let out a shaky breath. “Haa…” My legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground. 

Yuran peeked her head in from behind the door, eyes widening in surprise at the sight of me drenched in cold sweat.

“What the—? Why are you still here? You scared me.”

“…I’m sorry. I thought you were an enemy.”

“Haha, maybe I should’ve made some noise then?”

Finding my curled-up state amusing, she chuckled and shook her shoulders with laughter.

Brushing off my embarrassment along with the dust, I stood up, only then noticing the blood staining her clothes and hair.

“Are you okay? That blood…”

“None of it’s mine. I told you, I used to be an A-rank hunter.”

Just as I was about to ask what had happened outside, she spoke first.

“I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”

“…The bad news.”

“The emperor is angrier than expected. The entire area is swarming with soldiers.”

So, breaking through the already tight security had become even harder. I let out an involuntary sigh.

“And the good news?”

Yuran crossed her arms and looked at me intently before smirking.

“I ran into someone who says he’s your ally.”

My eyes widened.

“Simeon?”

“I didn’t ask his name, but he had black hair and was irritatingly handsome.”

There could be no better description of Simeon. I blinked in speechless surprise, and she furrowed her brow slightly.

“Why? Was I wrong? He recognized your name immediately.”

“No, you’re right. That person.. Was he okay? He wasn’t injured?”

“Yeah. He seemed fine. He ambushed me while lying in wait, so I had to point my spear at him.”

“What?!”

“I didn’t attack him.”

My heart did a few bungee jumps in that short moment. But in the end, he was safe. Relief flooded through me, making me feel slightly lightheaded. Pressing my fingers to my eyelids, I glanced around.

“But he didn’t come with you?”

“No. We were in the middle of evading pursuers. If he followed me, he might’ve been mistaken for my ally, which would be troublesome. Instead, he told me that he found the way out—there’s a hidden underground passage leading straight to the imperial palace.”

Ah. A short sigh escaped me. I had been told that Simeon was safer because he was an intruder, not a criminal. It was disappointing that I couldn’t see him yet, but hearing news of him was enough to be grateful.

“Thank you for looking out for him, Auntie.”

“Oh, come on, this was nothing.”

Yuran waved it off with a laugh. Behind her, the sky blazed with fire. The sun was already near the horizon. If we were going to escape, now was the time. She quickly turned serious, wiping the blood from her spear blade with her sleeve.

“Let’s move. More soldiers will wake up once night falls.”

I followed her out of the warehouse. The area was silent, thanks to her earlier efforts, but as we neared the imperial city, countless soldiers blocked our path. Their swords and spears glinted with deadly intent, aimed squarely at me.

“Eliminate the criminal.”

“Behead him and present his head to His Majesty!”

Each time, she cut down the enemies with her spear.

“Hajae, duck!”

And it was Yuran who deflected the blades flying toward me.

Her once pristine blue silk robe was now stained with blood and dirt.

Still, we made progress. Before long, we reached the clearing in front of the palace where I had last seen Simeon. As expected, soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder, leaving no room to advance. It was a clear display of the emperor’s determination to prevent my entry.

Leaning against a wall to catch her breath, she wiped away her sweat and scoffed.

“This is fun. It’s been a while since I got a proper workout.”

Despite her words, her breathing was ragged. No matter how skilled an A-rank hunter Yuran was, she had fought dozens of soldiers alone. She must be reaching her limit. Meanwhile, all I could do was cower behind her, barely managing to defend myself with a dagger. The weight of my helplessness was unbearable.

“I’m sorry. If only I could fight—”

“I told you, it’s fine.”

She silently looked down at the scarred palm of her hand. I wondered if I should try shedding blood again. As I hesitated, she suddenly grabbed my wrist. When I turned, our eyes met—hers burned with intensity.

“You came this far because you have a future you want.”

“…Yes.”

“Then that’s all that matters. Just focus on escaping.”

Yuran’s unwavering gaze left me speechless. Apologies and offers to fight would only waste time. As I bowed my head, she ruffled my hair roughly.

“I’ll clear a path. You run straight into the palace.”

“You’re not coming with me?”

“I can’t leave here anyway.”

But…

Even if I wouldn’t survive once I stepped outside, at least I could end this wretched existence within this rift. If I left now, she would be captured by the emperor and sentenced to punishment. On top of that, she would also be charged with aiding a criminal’s escape.

Wouldn’t that mean she was sacrificing herself again, here in a place not even touched by reality? 

…Hang on. Sacrifice?

“Auntie.”

A sudden thought struck me—one that I desperately hoped wasn’t true.

‘They said that only sacrifice could save me if I didn’t atone.’

Now I understood why she had looked so conflicted when I said those words.

“This isn’t what I think it is… right?”

This time, she pressed her lips tightly together. Her silence only added to my confusion.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you going this far for me? I’m just… someone you happened to meet here.”

“Well. I figured my friend would have done the same.”

“What do you mean…?”

She gripped my shoulders firmly, speaking in a calm, coaxing voice, as if soothing a child.

“Hajae, sometimes you have to give up a hundred things just to gain one.”

“…..”

“You understand what I’m saying.”

She was just someone I had met by chance in <Divine Comedy>. We hadn’t even talked for a full hour. So… why did it hurt this much?

More than anything, what made it unbearable was that I wasn’t in a position to refuse her kindness.

I clenched my fists and nodded. Seeing this, she smiled in satisfaction.

“And you have to make it out safely to deliver my message to my friend.”

“…Have you decided what you want to say?”

She swallowed dryly and nodded. For someone who hadn’t flinched even when cornered, she now seemed nervous. Then, she met my eyes. But her gaze wasn’t fixed on me—it was searching for someone else beyond me.

“I’m sorry.”

Her trembling voice carried the weight of a deep, sincere regret.

“I’m so sorry for sending you off on your own. But I wanted you to live.”

For the first time, her fierce eyes softened. A shimmer of moisture gathered at her lashes, but before the tears could fall, she quickly wiped them away with the back of her hand. In the blink of an eye, the vulnerable moment disappeared, leaving behind only the steadfast warrior.

Gripping her spear once more, she stepped toward the wall and said,

“Now go. Run!”

At the sound of her voice, I turned and sprinted toward the imperial palace without looking back. A thick fog tried to obscure my vision as if to hold me back, but I didn’t hesitate. Fifty more steps. No—thirty. I ran without stopping, breath caught in my throat. Only one thought filled my mind—Simeon was waiting for me.

“Haa, haa…”

Finally, the ornate red gate came into view. The exit was right in front of me.

Just as I reached the emperor’s empty palace at sunset, a sudden realization hit me—I had overlooked something crucial.

I skidded to a stop and turned back, shouting,

“Wait! You haven’t told me who your friend is!”

From within the misty distance, I heard her laughter.

“Ah, that’s right, haha!”

The name she spoke next seemed to freeze time.

“Her name is Yooyeon Lee, from the Sehwa Guild!”

My world stopped in that moment.

I couldn’t believe my ears. It was the first time I’d ever heard that name from someone else’s mouth.

“What did you just say…?”

I couldn’t let it go. If I’d heard correctly, then the friend she had spoken of, the person she had risked her life to save… was my mother. Just as I was about to step down the stairs and call out again, someone grabbed my arm.

“Mr. Hajae.”

When I turned around, I saw Simeon standing at the threshold of the imperial palace, panting heavily.

“Simeon…?”

“I’m glad you’re safe. Let’s go.”

I followed his lead for a moment before coming to an abrupt halt. I couldn’t leave like this. The moment I walked away, I would never see her again. Forcing his hand off my arm, I turned and rushed back outside the palace walls.

“Where are you going? The exit is this way.”

“Wait, just a moment.”

But before I could go far, he caught me again.

“We don’t have time for this.”

“No… I can’t leave yet.”

Simeon grabbed my wrist firmly and pulled me. Like an animal resisting slaughter, I planted my feet firmly on the ground.

“Mr. Hajae!” 

His voice, rougher than ever, rang in my ears, but my eyes were still searching for her.

Then, through the thick fog, came a chilling sound—the scrape of something being sliced apart.

“Just once. Let me meet her just once, please.”

“That person can’t leave the rift anyway.”

“No, I have something to say… I have to say it now.”

“What are you talking about—?”

Words tangled in my mind, like being lost in a dense fog.

She was always like that. The best at handling the dirty work others avoided.

My mother was the same way. That’s why my father had such a hard time.

It was her. The person she had saved was my mother.

“I can’t leave like this. No, I won’t leave.”

As I struggled to free myself, Simeon pulled me into a tight embrace from behind.

“Please, get a hold of yourself, Mr. Hajae! Don’t let her sacrifice be in vain.”

“But…”

“If you keep this up, you’ll be trapped here!”

Simeon shouted something else, but it all slipped through my ears. My mind was overloaded. The conversation I’d just had with her came rushing back, overwhelming me.

‘More than anything, I regret missing her wedding.’

‘Her wedding?’

‘She told me she had a boyfriend. I told her to hurry up and get married, have kids, and live happily.’

I had to tell her.

‘If she listened to me, her kid would be all grown up by now. Maybe she had a daughter? Or maybe a son?’

That I was that son.

“Just one word. Just one…”

I tore myself free and ran into the fog. But the next moment—

“I’m sorry.”

A sharp pain bloomed at the back of my neck, and my vision blurred. As I collapsed to the ground, I glimpsed beyond the fog—a spear reflecting the crimson sunset, its tassel drawing a graceful arc in the air.

****

One evening, while eating dinner, I suddenly asked my father,

“Why was Mom cursed?”

“She was trying to save a comrade who had entered a rift. Something must have gone wrong.”

“What went wrong?”

“I don’t really know. She told me about it, but not the details.”

To save a comrade. That was so like my mother.

Even though my lingering curiosity was finally satisfied, I felt oddly stifled. If I had heard a story about a hunter being cursed for saving a friend, I would have found it touching. I might have even shed a tear. But knowing it was my own family’s story, I felt no admiration—only resentment.

“Dad, weren’t you angry at Mom?”

“Why?”

“She had people waiting for her. She shouldn’t have done that.”

I couldn’t understand her. She left her family behind for a comrade. It felt as if she had cherished that friend more than me or my father. It made me jealous. What kind of friendship was so precious? How important was that person?

“Well… I guess that’s right.” 

My dad nodded in agreement with me, and I smiled bitterly.

“But I loved your mother for who she was.”

****

“Hah.” Gasping for air, I woke up.

The ceiling above me was stark white, neither the ink-black sky of night nor the blinding light of day. When I bolted upright, I saw the vast ocean shimmering beyond a glass wall.

The Ark. I had made it back to reality. But I felt no relief. The weight of the truth crushed down on my shoulders.

When <Divine Comedy> is completed, you can go to any moment in time just once. Whether it’s the past or the future, you have 24 hours. Once you return to reality, you must live with the changes wrought by what happened in Heaven.

Mom had left home when I was seven.

And it took Yuran Choi, the hunter, seven years to complete <Divine Comedy> and change the past.

Now, the puzzle pieces finally fit together.

“So that’s it…”

The year that my mother had been dead for seven years, Heaven’s gate had silently opened.

Through that, <Contradiction>’s past sacrificial victim changed from Yuyeon Lee to Yuran Choi.

And seven entire years of fate had been rewritten.

My mother, who was supposed to die, escaped alone and went on to marry her high school sweetheart. They had a son.

Me.

A person who was never meant to exist was born. And at that exact moment, my mother was suddenly cursed.

A divine punishment…

That was the curse <Contradiction> had placed on my mother—no, perhaps the ultimate sentence meant for Yuran. 

‘Honestly, I didn’t care. I just… as long as she got out, it didn’t matter.’

She never knew what became of the future she had changed. She never knew what happened to the person she sacrificed everything for. She never knew the suffering her family endured under the curse. She would never know.

And for that, I was grateful.

‘Hajae, sometimes you have to give up a hundred things just to gain one.’

Yuran gave up everything to save my mother—her honor as a hunter, her future, seven years of her life. And she endured the endless cycles of the rift, believing her sacrifice had at least granted my mother a happy life.

I regretted resenting my mother’s colleague, blaming her for putting Mom in danger. If she hadn’t changed the past, I wouldn’t even exist. I had been so desperate to find someone to blame without knowing anything.

Yuran Choi had saved me, too.

‘Well. I figured my friend would have done the same.’

I should have told her.

Thank you for saving my mother.

Thank you for letting me exist.

The tears blurred my vision, then fell onto the pristine sheets.

“…Auntie.”

I should have called her that more when I had the chance. But now it was too late.

“…Idiot.”

I clutched my chest, trying to breathe. I pounded my fists against it, but the suffocation wouldn’t fade. Eventually, I broke down completely, burying my face in the sheets and screaming until my voice was raw.

Then,

“Mr. Hajae…?”

I lifted my head. Through tear-blurred eyes, I saw Simeon standing at the doorway. He walked toward me and wrapped his arms around me without a word.

And I cried, unable to stop.

For how long, I didn’t know.

Expressing gratitude and seeing <Contradiction> in person. 

Simeon slightly furrowed his brow, as if unable to grasp the connection between the two. However, he didn’t press for an explanation. He simply continued to slowly stroke the back of my hand.

“Let’s go together tomorrow. I’ll take you there.”

As promised, a day later I headed to the private museum with Simeon. Considering that it housed such a rare mystical artifact, the museum was rather quiet. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that more security guards were patrolling the area than actual visitors.

“There aren’t as many people here as I expected.”

“The number of visitors allowed per day is limited.”

“Oh… then don’t we need a reservation?”

“We don’t. Not if we’re hunters.”

Privileges always seemed unfair when someone else had them, but when I benefited from them, they felt perfectly reasonable.

As soon as I entered the museum, I looked for a guidebook with a map. Most of the exhibited artifacts were classified as either D-rank or C-rank. The only A-rank mystical artifact here was <Contradiction>. Because of that, it was stored separately in a special exhibit, and that particular area was the only one crowded with visitors.

“That’s the A-rank artifact, right?”

“Yeah. I’d love to steal that thing, sell it, and quit my job.”

“Same. But apparently, it was donated.”

“Huh? Just how filthy rich does someone have to be to donate a mystical artifact instead of selling it?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Hearing this conversation, I was now certain I had come to the right place.

I hurried into the special exhibit, where a single showcase stood prominently in the center of an open space. Inside it was a silver shield in the shape of a swallowtail kite. A red tassel hung from its handle, identical to the one that adorned <Contradiction>’s spear, which Yuran Choi had once wielded.

“…So this is it.”

I had finally come face-to-face with the enemy that had ruined my life, my family, and the people I held dear.

I had spent my whole life wondering why I had been cursed, but now that I had the answer, I felt no overwhelming emotion. Instead, I became eerily calm, immediately thinking of the next step. I had already decided—I would erase <Contradiction> from this world.

Nothing lasts forever. Mystical artifacts are no exception.

I first learned that spirit items could be destroyed during the <Amrita> incident, thanks to Hyunseong Choi. They can be obliterated by either clashing with another artifact of equal power or being placed within the rift of a stronger artifact. Due to the nature of <Contradiction>, the only option was the latter.

Of course, there was something I had to do before I could do that.

“Simeon.”

I needed to get my hands on <Contradiction>.

“I’m going to the restroom for a moment.”

Leaving him alone in the special exhibit, I casually made my way to the information desk.

“Excuse me, could I ask you something?”

“Of course. If you’re looking for an explanation about the artifact, we have a tour in about ten minutes.”

“No, it’s not that…”

Before Yuran Choi used <Divine Comedy> to alter the past, the original owner of <Contradiction> was the leader of the Sehwa Guild. Yuran used to call him a ‘crazy old man.’ He was the kind of person who cared only about collecting mystical artifacts, completely indifferent to the deaths of his comrades. Someone like him would never have donated <Contradiction> to a private museum.

“Can you tell me who donated <Contradiction>?”

“…Excuse me?”

The museum staff member, who’d been smiling brightly, suddenly stiffened. Her pupils darted back and forth, and her fingers nervously fidgeted with the visitor guidebook. Judging by her reaction, she had no idea who the donor was. At that moment, a middle-aged woman with graying hair emerged from the back office.

“Can I help you with something?”

Judging by the woman’s age and attire, she seemed to hold a high position in the museum. The staff member, as if spotting a savior, quickly whispered something to her. The woman let out a small “Ah” and then turned to me with a composed smile.

“I can assist you. Please, come this way.”

Beyond the information desk, she led me into a small staff lounge. She gestured for me to take a seat before speaking.

“I apologize for earlier. That staff member is still new.”

“That’s ok. More importantly, do you know the donor’s identity?”

“If you’re asking for the name of the donor, I’m afraid I don’t know.”

“…What?”

She didn’t know? I frowned without meaning to, and she gave me a troubled smile.

“<Contradiction> arrived in a secure glass safe, accompanied by an anonymous letter.”

An anonymous donor. And it hadn’t just arrived in an ordinary display case—it had been locked inside a safe. Forget obtaining Contradiction; I was already hitting a wall just trying to figure out who had donated it.

“What did the letter say?”

“It requested that we take good care of <Contradiction> and included instructions on how to open the safe.”

“It doesn’t open with a fingerprint or a passcode?”

“No. The letter stated that placing a hand on the safe and saying the name of a certain flower would unlock it, but we don’t know what that flower is.”

“…You don’t know?”

“The donor instructed us to give <Contradiction> to anyone who could unlock the safe. But so far, no one has guessed the correct answer, so we’re still holding onto it.”

So that’s why Simeon hadn’t been able to obtain <Contradiction>. I’d expected an extraordinary figure behind this donation, but an added puzzle made the situation even more perplexing. Then, a simple solution crossed my mind.

“Couldn’t you just try by going through the names of every flower one by one?”

“Unfortunately, the number of attempts is limited. If someone fails too many times, the safe locks permanently.”

“…Ah.”

“It doesn’t concern us, but I imagine it’s frustrating for hunters and collectors who want <Contradiction>.”

“How many attempts are left?”

I swallowed dryly. The silence stretched on a little too long.

“There’s only one.”

What a nightmare. A safe designed to hold mystical artifacts wouldn’t be easy to break open. If worst came to worst, I could steal the entire thing and take it into a rift. But that would mean resorting to theft.

…I’d keep that as an absolute last resort.

“You don’t sell spirit items, do you?”

“None of the relics in the museum are for sale. <Contradiction> is the only exception.”

“Then, could I at least take a look at the donor’s letter?”

She rose without hesitation to retrieve the letter. When she returned, she handed me an envelope that looked quite old. As I carefully opened the letter, my hands trembled involuntarily.

[To The Museum Staff].

The handwritten characters had unusually elongated vowels.

“This is…”

“Is something wrong?”

The handwriting—it looked just like my mother’s. No, it wasn’t just similar. It was identical. Even the way she looped her letters. 

“…No, thank you for showing me.”

I left the lounge and hurried back to the special exhibit. Simeon was standing exactly where I had left him, like a stone statue. I forced a casual smile as I approached.

“Did you wait long? Sorry, someone stopped me to ask for directions on my way back.”

Even as I made an unnecessary excuse, my mind was preoccupied with the troubling revelation in the letter.

If someone left behind something valuable, not in exchange for a price but as part of a riddle, what could their intention be?

Most likely, they wanted the right person—the one who knew the answer—to be its owner.

If my mother really was the one who donated <Contradiction>… what kind of qualification was she seeking?

“…This is driving me crazy.”

Even after returning to the Ark, I kept thinking about it, but no clear answer came to mind. In the end, I skipped the first step and moved on to the second. Even if I somehow managed to obtain <Contradiction>, it would all be for nothing if a rift didn’t open.

I pulled out my phone and searched for ‘S-rank rifts’. But the last known one to have opened was…

“<Bloodletting Sword>?”

Before that, the last record was from two years ago. Since S-rank spirit items were rare to begin with, it was only natural that rifts of this grade opened infrequently. But I didn’t have time to wait. I let out a deep sigh, pressing my temples as my head throbbed.

“So it really was a rare find.”

As if his ears had been burning, Mujeong suddenly appeared and let out a soft chuckle.

“It moves me to tears that you finally recognize my value.”

“Yeah. Why the hell am I only realizing this now?”

What if I had discovered <Contradiction> a little sooner? Not that it would have mattered—I never would’ve known unless I had entered <Divine Comedy> in the first place. Still, frustration led my thoughts to wander in all sorts of directions. I rubbed my tired face and muttered under my breath, almost to myself.

“It’d be nice if there were another spirit like you.”

The moment I finished speaking, Mujeong placed a firm hand on my shoulder. I glanced up at him and saw his expression harden into something surprisingly serious.

“…Are you saying that I am not enough for you, Master?”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant I need a rift to open.”

I had no idea when the next rift would appear, and forcing an S-rank rift to open was impossible. The sheer helplessness of the situation made me want to tear my hair out. I tossed my phone aside, buried my face in my hands, and let out another sigh.

“If it is a rift that you desire, Master,” Mujeong said, his voice eerily calm, “Then one will open.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine. My gaze drifted toward him, almost unconsciously.

“…What are you talking about?”

“Did you not know? If <Bloodletting Sword> determines that its current owner is no longer worthy, it will open a rift.”

At that, a conversation I had with Simeon while researching <Bloodletting Sword> flashed through my mind.

‘<Bloodletting Sword> only grants its power to those who enter its rift and come out alive.’

‘And the crack won’t open while the current owner is still alive?’

‘That’s right. No exceptions.’

What exactly did <Bloodletting Sword> consider unworthy? Most likely, old age, injuries, or an unavoidable demise.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—Mujeong was already aware that I didn’t have much time left.

Which meant…

“…The rift will open right before I die.”

Seeing Mujeong quietly nod, the tension in my stiffened body melted away.

“…That’s a relief.”

“Are you really satisfied with that?”

“What more could I ask for?”

Sprawled out on the bed, I blankly stared at the ceiling.

If things went according to plan, <Divine Comedy> would sever the connection between me and Simeon. But nothing was ever certain. This was my backup plan—another way to ensure that, even if I failed to change the past, I wouldn’t pass the curse onto Simeon.

“If the plan doesn’t work, then you swallow <Contradiction> for me.”

I shot him a grin as I glanced over my shoulder, and Mujeong twitched one corner of his mouth while looking down at me.

“You usually just give orders. What’s with the request all of a sudden?”

“Because by then, I won’t be your master anymore.”

At that, the faint smile lingering on his lips disappeared in an instant. I felt guilty for forcing my burden onto him, but what choice did I have? All I could do was hope that next time, he’d meet a master who was more selfless—one who truly cherished him.

“You understand, right, Jeong-ah?”

For some reason, his red eyes trembled anxiously. I met his gaze and smiled.

“You’re my last hope.”

For so long, I’d considered that so-called beautiful emotion—the one everyone praised—to be a sin. It was like seeing a world painted in vibrant colors while I was stuck in black and white. But after escaping from hell, the world began to look a little different.

The very emotion that had once destroyed me—and that I believed would ruin me again—was, in truth, the reason I existed. The reason I stood here now.

For the first time, the weight on my shoulders felt a little lighter.

****

It was an ordinary morning. Or at least, it should have been.

On my way to the dining hall to ask for another sandwich before heading to training, a strange scream suddenly echoed from the kitchen.

“What happened?!”

I hurried inside, only to find that the usual cooks were gone. Instead, a lone giant stood there, his frame so massive that his apron looked downright pitiful on him.

Matteo.

When he slowly turned to face me, his face was as pale as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Hajae-hyung. We’re screwed.”

“…What?”

“I-I didn’t think it would turn out like this.”

“What are you talking about…?”

Beyond him, a massive aluminum bowl sat on the counter. It was filled with something so green it might as well have been a swamp. Then, my eyes caught a bag lying nearby.

<Dried seaweed soup. Serves 30.>

“…Don’t tell me you put all of this in?”

“……Yep.”

Without a word, I grabbed the wildly expanding seaweed, scooping it into a dry bowl. Meanwhile, Matteo, shifting nervously like a guilty puppy, started rattling off excuses that no one had asked for.

“It’s… well, I owed Raphael-hyung a favor.”

“And?”

“And I found out today’s his birthday, so I thought I’d make him breakfast…”

“So you tried to make seaweed soup?”

“Uh… Yeah. But this happened.”

His heart was in the right place. His execution, however, was another story.

“This isn’t some work breakfast, is it?”

“Hyung-nim, please! That’s hilarious.”

Matteo laughed awkwardly and averted his gaze. I could already see the disaster unfolding in my head—he’d messed up before even getting the soup on the stove. Sure, the most important thing about a birthday meal was the effort put into it.

But it still had to be edible.

“Want some help?”

Before I even finished the sentence, Matteo jumped at the offer.

“Please. Seriously, I’m begging you.”

“Got a spare apron?”

He immediately stripped off his own and handed it to me. Then, relying on the cooking skills I’d picked up from my dad, I got to work. With the right balance of soy sauce and fine salt, the seaweed soup started to taste just like it did in the past.

“This should do.”

“Whoa, Hajae-hyung! You really know how to cook.”

“I’ve been living alone for a long time.”

Seeing me work seemed to light a fire under Matteo. He grabbed a knife with newfound determination, declaring that he’d cook something, too—stir-fried sausage and vegetables. A simple dish, but somehow, watching him chop and stir-fry made me nervous.

I wondered if this was how my dad had felt watching me learn to cook. Without realizing it, I let out a small laugh.

“So, are you having breakfast with Raphael?”

“Yep! I haven’t told him yet—it’s supposed to be a surprise. But I heard he has the day off.”

“Mind if I join?”

“What? Of course! I’d be hurt if you didn’t.”

Since we were already doing this, I figured the more, the merrier.

“Should we invite Simeon too?”

The moment I said that, Matteo dropped the frying pan. A sausage rolled onto the floor.

Was it really that shocking?

He looked even more distressed than when he’d seen the seaweed monstrosity.

“Why? Simeon can’t come?”

“It’s not that, it’s just… Hyung-nim wouldn’t want to.”

“Simeon?”

“Yeah. He’s never joined anything like this before.”

Well, knowing how much Simeon avoided personal entanglements with the apostles, it made sense that he’d never attended a guild gathering.

But it was Raphael’s birthday. A simple breakfast together didn’t seem like too much to ask. Raphael would definitely be happier if the guild leader showed up.

“Have you ever invited him?”

“No. He’d probably say no anyway, so we never tried.”

“Then let’s try now.”

“…Huh?”

While Matteo stood frozen with the frying pan, I pulled out my phone.

[It’s Raphael’s birthday, so we’re making breakfast. If you haven’t eaten, come join us. Matteo and I are in the dining hall.]

…I stopped typing and erased it all. He’d probably turn me down, saying he wasn’t hungry.

I needed something more persuasive. Something harder to refuse.

I thought for a moment, then borrowed a trick my dad used whenever he wanted me to take a break from studying.

[I made seaweed soup for the first time in a long time. Want to try it?]

The moment I hit send, I returned to preparing the meal.

Then—

Knock, knock—!

I turned around to see Simeon leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. His gaze lingered on me, filled with something between curiosity and suspicion.

“Since when do you cook? Especially on a Sunday morning.”

At the sound of his voice, Matteo, who had been crouched in front of the fridge, suddenly sprang to his feet.

“Holy crap. He actually came.”

“…Matteo?”

“Good morning, hyung-nim!”

Simeon frowned slightly but gave a curt nod.

“What are you two doing here? Alone?”

“Haha! Cooking lessons!”

“…Why?”

Simeon furrowed his brow, but Matteo only grinned, unfazed.

If I let things go on like this, Simeon would leave without even tasting the soup. I quickly wiped my damp hands on my apron and stepped forward.

“Good morning, Simeon.”

“It was a good morning. Until I saw the two of you together.”

Did he think I was alone? His words had an edge, but I simply laughed it off.

“I was helping him prepare a birthday breakfast.”

“Whose birthday is it?”

“Raphael’s. You didn’t know?”

Simeon’s eyes flickered slightly, as if to say, why would I need to know that?

“You’re helping Matteo?”

“No, this was just me being impulsive.”

I leaned in and whispered, “He dumped 30 servings of seaweed into the pot. How could I just stand by and watch?”

Remembering how dumbfounded Matteo had looked, I let out a chuckle.

At last, Simeon’s tense expression softened slightly.

“So? Is it a good morning again?”

I playfully scrunched my nose, and finally, a faint smile appeared on his lips.

With the food nearly ready and Simeon here, all that was left was the birthday boy.

“Matteo, how about you go call Raphael now?”

“Yes, sir!”

Matteo transferred the stir-fried sausage and vegetables onto a plate before dashing off. I wanted to get through the towering pile of dishes before Raphael arrived, but I suddenly felt eyes on me from the side. When I glanced over, I saw Simeon staring at me so intently that it was almost burdensome.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It suits you.”

“…Doing the dishes?”

I let out a laugh, finding it absurd, but Simeon only gave a small nod.

“Anyway, what about the seaweed soup?”

“Oh, right.”

I quickly grabbed a clean spoon from the utensil holder and handed it to him. But instead of taking it, Simeon merely glanced at it and didn’t move.

“Do you not like seaweed soup?”

“No.”

“Then why aren’t you eating?”

I frowned slightly, and Simeon, with an entirely nonchalant expression, said,

“Aren’t you supposed to feed me?”

What the—thank goodness I sent Matteo away first. How could he be this shameless? Without thinking, I tightened my grip on the spoon. But Simeon simply blinked at me, as if he intended to wait until I gave in.

In the end, I scooped up a spoonful of the seaweed soup, brought it to his lips, and let out a sigh.

“This is the only time I’m doing this.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Adults don’t do things like this.”

“Hmm, then let’s just say I haven’t grown up yet.”

For a moment, I was at a loss for words. How could he say something like that with such a calm face, as if he’d already been through every hardship imaginable?

By then, Simeon had obediently taken the spoonful of soup, nodding slightly. His expression revealed nothing—no hint of emotion, no way to tell what he was thinking.

“Well? How is it?”

“Tastes good.”

“Be more specific. Is there enough salt? It’s not too bland? Should I add more salt?”

Simeon paused as if considering, then took my wrist gently and smiled.

“It’s good.”

“Ok, but what’s good?”

A strange silence stretched between us.

For some reason, I felt like I already knew what that silence meant.

“Well… a good thing is a good thing, I guess, right?”

I had long mastered the art of brushing things off with a smile. As I subtly pulled my wrist free from his grasp and continued washing the dishes, I could feel those dark eyes clinging to me more persistently than ever. It was as if he were trying to etch this moment into his mind, just as <The Portrait of Saint Germain> had preserved the most beautiful image of Johan.

Then, the sound of quick footsteps descending the stairs broke the silence.

“Hyung!”

That bright, carefree voice was a welcome relief. Like an eager puppy bringing back a ball, Matteo stopped right in front of me and grinned.

“He said he’ll come down after washing up. Oh, and I didn’t mention anything about a birthday meal—just told him we’d be eating together.”

“Well done. If we set the table now, the timing will be perfect.”

“Yep! I’ll handle the setup. And I’ll take the cake out of the fridge later too.”

With arms full of utensils, Matteo walked toward the dining area, his steps practically bouncing with excitement. While he busied himself setting the table, I scooped rice into bowls for the number of people present. The whole time, Simeon leaned against the fridge, his eyes following my every move.

Was he monitoring me or what? The weight of his stare was starting to feel oppressive, so I decided to give him a task.

“Simeon. You heard, right? There’s a cake in the fridge.”

“Yes.”

“Take it out, put it over there, and stick some candles in it.”

“…Me?”

“Too difficult for you?”

At that, Simeon obediently retrieved the cake and placed it on the table. But even after a while, he still hadn’t returned to his seat. When I turned around, I found him staring at the strawberry shortcake with unsettling seriousness, as if he were contemplating a chess move. In his hand, rather than a knight or a bishop, were two small pink candles.

“…You can just stick them in wherever.”

Before I knew it, a chuckle escaped me.

Matteo leaned in and whispered with amusement. 

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen Guild Leader Simeon-hyung doing something like this.”

“Really?”

“Probably because it’s you asking him.”

“…Who knows? Maybe he was waiting for an occasion like this.”

Back at the orphanage, he had been the same. At first, he had avoided mingling with the other kids, and I was his only friend. But before I knew it, he had become the center of the group, treating the younger ones like his own siblings. I could still vividly recall the way Sang Heo had taken care of the children.

“Hyung?”

I snapped out of my thoughts.

Matteo looked at me with concern. “You okay? You seem tired.”

I brushed it off with a smile. “I’m fine.”

Lately, I had been thinking about the past too often. Maybe it was because surviving hell had forced me to confront my history.

“Let’s go.”

Matteo and I headed to the dining room just as Raphael sluggishly made his way down the stairs. His drowsy eyes swept over the table and the people gathered around it. In an instant, the sleepiness vanished from his face.

“…W-What is this? Why is even the Guild Leader here…?”

I quickly lit the candles and started clapping.

“Happy birthday, Raphael.”

“…Huh?”

“Come on, blow out the candles and make a wish.”

Raphael’s eyes widened as if they might pop out. He hadn’t expected us to prepare anything like this.

“I… I’ve never had anyone do this for me before.”

His eyes turned misty, and he covered his mouth as if trying to suppress his emotions. Yet, at the same time, he diligently took out his phone to snap a picture of the birthday spread, which made me chuckle.

Then, someone else descended the stairs.

“Ugh, what’s with all the noise?”

Enoch yawned lazily before frowning at us.

“What the hell? Are you guys having some kind of feast without me?”

“Who has a feast in the morning, Hyung?”

“We totally could. But why didn’t anyone tell me? I’m starting to feel left out.”

Though Enoch sounded like he was complaining, his lips curled into a teasing smile. Matteo laughed heartily and quickly set a place for him.

Just when it seemed like we could finally eat—

“…What are you all doing this early in the morning?”

Yulia appeared, dressed in workout gear. She must’ve stopped by before heading to the training grounds.

Enoch, mid-bite, waved her over. “Yul, come join us.”

“For what? Is someone transferring guilds?”

Her suspicious gaze swept over the group. Seriously? Did we need to be saying farewell to someone just to gather like this? I let out an exasperated laugh.

Raphael proudly lifted his cake toward her.

“Ah, it’s Raphael’s birthday?”

“Yeah.”

“I totally forgot. Anyway, happy birthday. Let me know if you want anything.”

She took a seat beside Raphael.

“But what’s with the sudden occasion?”

“Well, I was just planning to celebrate with Raphael Hyung, but somehow it turned into this.”

“How does something just turn into this…?”

Yulia’s gaze drifted to Simeon, sitting across from her. She wasn’t the only one who had that thought—Raphael let out an awkward chuckle, and Matteo just shrugged. Meanwhile, Simeon remained silent, eating his seaweed soup.

Enoch, tapping his chopsticks against the table, grinned.

“Well, as long as it’s nice, who cares?”

“Agreed. Honestly, I’ve wanted us to have meals together more often.”

“You all heard that? It’s the birthday boy’s wish, so we have to make it happen.”

Everyone nodded—except for Simeon, of course.

Still, wasn’t this a huge step forward? I’d never seen more than three people eating in this dining room before. Until now, everyone had always taken their meals separately in their own rooms. With all six of us sitting around one table, it felt less like a casual gathering and more like a holiday celebration.

“Who made this soup?”

Enoch, eating his seaweed soup with evident delight, glanced at Matteo.

“Don’t tell me it was you. If so, you’re ready for marriage.”

“No…”

Matteo pouted and set down his chopsticks with a huff.

“Hajae-hyung made the soup. I made this.”

He pointed at the stir-fried sausage and vegetables with a resentful glare.

“Oh, really?” Enoch popped a sausage into his mouth.

And then, his face twisted in pure horror. He turned pale, snatched some tissues, and spat it out.

“…Sorry, I can’t. This isn’t fit for human consumption.”

“Enoch-hyung… I’ve been eating it just fine.”

“…Go get checked for food poisoning tomorrow.”

“Hyung!”

Enoch spoke gravely. 

“Listen, Teo. If you ever get a girlfriend, win her over with something else.”

“I have a girlfriend, okay?”

“Then if you want to keep her, don’t invite her over for home-cooked meals.”

“I have cooked for her before, and she loved it.”

“She must really like you, then… to endure that.”

Yulia snorted. Raphael squeezed his eyes shut, stifling laughter. Matteo, betrayed, clenched his fists in determination.

“…I’m signing up for a month of cooking classes.”

Unfazed, Yulia shook her head.

“That’s not enough. You need at least six months.”

“Even you, Noona?!”

The dining hall was filled with laughter for the rest of the meal.

What kind of magic was this? Everything about this moment was enjoyable. I even found myself looking forward to Matteo’s improved cooking. And the next birthday.

“Thanks, Hyung. This is the first time I’ve eaten seaweed soup made by someone else.”

“I’m glad you liked it.”

“Next time, I’ll cook for you.”

I wondered what Raphael’s seaweed soup would taste like.

How absurd. For nine years, I had wanted to die every day. But now, I wanted to live.

Then—

“So, Hyung. When’s your birthday?”

Reality struck.

“If it’s already passed this year, we’ll celebrate it next year, okay?”

With only four months left to live…

Was this divine mercy?

Or a cruel joke?

****

I lay down on my bed, feeling good for the first time in a long while. Everything about today had been perfect. We’d even had breakfast together with Simeon, I sparred with Yulia in the afternoon, and in the evening, I took a walk by the sea with Raphael. Well, around the Ark, but still.

Surely, I wouldn’t have any unsettling dreams tonight.

As I drifted off, I suddenly heard the sound of insects chirping. 

Shaa—.

The wind rustled through the leaves, and a breeze swept across my hair.

Had I left the window open?

A strange chill ran through me, and I slowly opened my eyes.

And then—

“…What on Earth?”

I was standing in the middle of a dense forest.