HMLU Ch 5

“I’ll give this to you, hyung. I promised you first.”

“…Uh, okay… Thanks…”

I decided to brush it off and let it slide. A trading system for limited mounts? Even with how chaotic the game’s management is, they wouldn’t go that far.

“By the way, how do we clear this place?”

Black Bear, who had already reached the Seabed Tunnel, asked. I quickly grabbed my mouse and started explaining the strategy.

🕹️

Unfortunately, we couldn’t clear it. It’s a dungeon that’s slightly tough even for a skilled two-person party, so the result was somewhat expected. The first named boss’s mechanics were particularly tricky. You have to find and consume the right antidote based on the poison shot by a giant water snake, and the key is identifying the complementary color of your poison among the bottles scattered on the floor. (For reference, since the dungeon’s release, there’s been consistent criticism about its lack of consideration for colorblind players, but the developers have never addressed it.)

“I didn’t know you needed to be a color theory expert to play this game…”

Black Bear, who kept picking subtly similar-colored antidotes and dying instantly, muttered glumly. I hurriedly added an unsolicited explanation.

“There’s a reason for it. This place used to be a cave where healers grew herbs, but it became an underwater tunnel when the sea level rose… Healers had to distinguish the subtle hues of herbs to make medicines and poisons, so they needed sharp eyes. It’s part of the lore. You’ll get used to it with practice…”

I trailed off, clamping my mouth shut. Did I sound too immersed? I glanced at him cautiously, and he raised an eyebrow, as if he understood.

“…Anyway, we’ll clear it next time. Let’s go.”

I stood up, urging him along to cover my embarrassment. It was still bright out, being late summer, but a good amount of time had passed. He followed leisurely, replying a beat late.

“Yeah. I hope we clear it next time.”

“We will. Today, we were just thrown off by the unfamiliar mechanics. Once you get the hang of it, it’s easy.”

“I’ll practice.”

A cool breeze wiped away his faint smile. I instinctively hunched my shoulders, and he asked.

“How are you getting home?”

Oh, so this is where we part ways. I pointed to a nearby bus stop by the road.

“Bus. I’ll just take whatever goes in my direction.”

“Want a ride?”

“Huh?”

“I left my car at the restaurant earlier.”

“What? Is it okay to leave it there this long? Won’t the parking fees be crazy?”

My working-class instincts kicked in, and I immediately regretted it. Paying for that meal without blinking, driving a car at twenty-two—his family’s probably loaded. Thankfully, Black Bear didn’t seem to care, shaking his head.

“It’s fine. They said parking’s free for a few hours if you eat there.”

“That’s a relief…”

“I’ll drive you. It’s close anyway.”

The slightly chilly evening air made me hesitate, but I shook my head. The bus stop was right there—going back to the restaurant felt unnecessary.

“I’ll just take the bus.”

“Really? That’s a shame.”

He sounded genuinely disappointed, not just being polite. I nodded in response, but it felt a bit awkward. How do we even say goodbye?

“Hyung.”

His clear voice cut through my tangled thoughts.

“See you.”

So I had no choice but to say the same.

“…Yeah, see you.”

Black Bear smiled brightly, giving a gentle wave. It seemed like he was telling me to go first.

“…….”

He stood there, watching me as I crossed the four-lane road to the bus stop. His gaze was calm, without any particular expression. It felt like he didn’t care whether I was there or not—like he was just standing there because he wanted to.

Thanks to that, I could only look away after boarding the bus. The air conditioner, set for daytime heat, blasted stale cold air. My neck felt inexplicably itchy.

What a peculiar guy.

I stuffed my clothes into the washing machine and hopped in the shower. After roughly drying my hair, I reached for the desktop’s power button but paused. Wait, didn’t I have something to do when I got home?

“…Oh.”

I grabbed my phone, which I’d tossed aside, and after some digging, remembered I’d deleted the SNS app. I hit reinstall and stood to put water in the coffee pot. At that moment, a short vibration buzzed.

Black Bear: Hyung! You get home okay? ㅇ(^^)ㅇ

Even seeing it again, it felt unreal. So this is the guy I met today… The weirdly handsome guy who looked like he was shooting a photoshoot at the restaurant…

Me: ㅇㅇ

Me: Appho go

I replied briefly and brewed my coffee. I’d probably pull another all-nighter. I launched the game and opened the SNS app. Luckily, the phone’s saved data let me log in instantly.

The last post was a generic drinking photo from three months and two weeks ago—grad school friends clinking soju glasses. The comments were full of people nagging me to reply. Feeling a bit guilty, I ignored them and opened the DMs.

About twenty spam and ad messages had piled up. As I scrolled, my finger froze. A message from an account with no profile settings caught my eye.

[chanhi0612: You promised to do it when I’m cured]

That was all the preview showed. I stared at the screen as if squinting would reveal more, but it was no use. After some thought, I tapped it.

[chanhi0612: How have you been?]

[chanhi0612: You remember our promise, right?]

[chanhi0612: You promised to do it when I’m cured]

That was the entirety of the three messages. I pondered for a while, then realized—obviously, I wouldn’t understand. It was written based on a conversation with another deepsea0612. To me, it seems random, but he’d expect the recipient to know.

Replying right away would seem suspicious. I marked it for later and opened the game. But as the familiar title screen loaded, I found myself mulling over the message. A promise to do something once he’s cured…

“…….”

My mouse cursor, hovering on the character loading screen, slid downward. I opened a browser and searched “complete remission.” A flood of information spilled out.

…Typically, complete remission refers to when no evidence of cancer can be found in a patient. If this state persists without relapse for five years or more…

“Cancer?”

The familiar yet heavy word made my heart lurch. His casual remarks came back to me one by one.

‘The treatment ended five years ago. They said I’m okay now, so I came back home.’

I recalled his oddly detached demeanor. He’s twenty-two, and if treatment ended five years ago, he was sick until seventeen.

“…….”

Digging deeper, I learned that if cancer recurs within those five years, survival rates drop significantly. I bit my lower lip unconsciously. Even after killing all the cancer cells, it’s not over. Living with the fear of relapse for five years—that can’t have been easy.

And if you met your first love during that time, of course you’d want to find them. Whether they’re an online friend, male, or female—what does that matter? I felt belatedly guilty for brushing off his heartfelt confession so carelessly.

I should tell him soon. I reached for my phone, but a Discord notification pinged.

Black Bear: Hyung? ㅇ.ㅇ

Black Bear: You’re not coming in??

The voice channel was already open. I sighed and put on my headphones.

“Sorry, I was making coffee.”

—Oh, I thought you might’ve fallen asleep.

“Huh?”

—You haven’t been sleeping much lately.

His soft, warm tone carried genuine concern. Listening to it, my feelings grew complicated again. If he learns the person he’s looking for isn’t Nickmer, he’ll probably quit the game. Then this voice will vanish from my daily life.

“…….”

What do I do? I don’t want to tell him. I brushed off the sudden thought with a hollow laugh and forced myself to speak.

“Hey… Bear. You said before… if you got in touch with Nickmer, you’d play with him.”

—Yeah.

Not a hint of hesitation in his reply. We’ve met in person, had deep conversations, and he’s still so cold? A pang of hurt made me cough.

“So, what if Nickmer isn’t the person you’re looking for? Would you quit Ap udziel

Asking felt a bit pathetic. I regretted opening Discord—my hurt tone probably came through. I should’ve used text. But Black Bear, unfazed, let out a thoughtful hum and gave an unexpected answer.

—I don’t think that’ll happen… It’s definitely him.

“No… I’m asking what you’d do if he’s not.”

—He is, so why think about what if he isn’t?

How is he so certain? At this point, I started wondering if there really was something. Maybe I forgot because it was from when I was a kid? But even then, I’d have been in elementary school. Shouldn’t I at least vaguely remember something like that?

The only people I had meaningful online conversations with as a kid were in the Im Jungah fan café chatroom. I was obsessed with fantasy novels back then and wanted to talk about them with anyone. Other than that, I left guestbook messages on Im Jungah’s blog or…

“…Oh.”

At that moment, a memory flashed through my mind.

Im Jungah: Thank you for always leaving messages and wishing me well.

I rubbed my dry lips unconsciously. For a while, I frequented Im Jungah’s blog, leaving all sorts of random comments. I’m always waiting for you, author. I hope your baby gets better soon—I even went to early morning mass for her. Stuff like that, written like a diary. One day, a reply came from the author’s account. I was thrilled that my favorite author responded, but soon after, another comment appeared below it.

└Im Jungah: My kid wrote that comment—she plays with my laptop ^^ Anyway, thank you too. I don’t reply to every comment, but I read them all.

After that, whenever I left a guestbook message, Im Jungah’s kid would reply, and we’d have short conversations. That’s the only prolonged online interaction I’ve had with a specific person. Black Bear and that kid both being seriously ill as children is a commonality. But that kid can’t be Black Bear. Because…

—What’s wrong, hyung?

“…Oh, nothing.”

That kid was a girl.

🕹️

The plot of Im Jungah’s masterpiece, The Saga of Isea, goes like this. Isea, an ordinary high school girl, has her happy life turned upside down when her father, who guaranteed a friend’s debt, takes his own life under the weight of it. Harassed by loan sharks, she flees with her mother and younger sibling, only to lose consciousness in a car accident. When she wakes, she’s under an unfamiliar ceiling—that’s how the novel begins.

The exact time and setting are unclear, but Isea warps to an era of kings, nobles, magic, and knights. To find a way back to her original world, she becomes a mage. Overcoming hardships, she makes friends, falls in love, and adapts to life as a mage. At the story’s climax, she finally discovers the magic to return home.

Naturally, the theme that shook many readers was, “Will Isea abandon the fame she’s built as a mage and the bonds she’s formed to return to her original world?”

Most isekai novels don’t dwell on the protagonist’s original world. The protagonist is typically unhappy there, only finding recognition and joy in the new world. That’s why many stories don’t linger on the protagonist’s sudden regression, possession, or warp, nor do they emphasize who they were or why they ended up in this situation. That’s not important to the protagonist or the reader—what matters is the story unfolding in the new world.

In that sense, The Saga of Isea—perhaps because it’s a first-generation novel—takes a different approach. From start to finish, Isea’s sole goal is to return to her original world, and she never forgets it. Because of this, no one in the new world can promise her eternity.

With so many charming characters—her companions, mentor, friends, and fleeting lovers—there was no shortage of criticism toward Isea for stubbornly wanting to return to a world where she’d be chased by loan sharks and burdened with family responsibilities. The prevailing opinion was that it was frustrating. But in the final volume, Im Jungah silenced all doubts and skepticism about Isea’s choice.

Orlan, the great mage who taught Isea magic and became her close friend, asks while helping her craft a magic circle:

—What will you do when you return?

Isea answers:

—I’ll take revenge. On everyone who drove my father to death and tormented me, my mother, and my sibling.

—You said you can’t use magic in that world. Then you’re just an ordinary child. How will you take revenge on them?

—I don’t need magic. I know now how easily people can die.

—You’re saying you’ll burn yourself out. Can you wipe them out completely like that? If you leave even a spark, the retaliation will come back to you and your family. You know that, right?

—Are you saying the cycle of revenge is futile, so I should forgive? Stop it, Orlan.

—No, Isea. I’m saying— true revenge and true forgiveness are only possible with power.

—……

—For someone without the power to take revenge, forgiveness is a meaningless choice. No matter how much you tell yourself, “I won’t let my enemies ruin my life, so I’ll forgive,” you can’t escape the doubt that you’re just pretending to forgive because you lack the power to act, ignoring reality.

—……

—But is it right to sacrifice everything, to ruin your own life for revenge? You said your world is a nation of laws without absolute power, right? Then you’ll be punished for your revenge.

—What are you trying to say?

—You need to build power, Isea.

—……

—In this kingdom, you could kill anyone and not be punished. You’re a noble mage, favored by the king. Do you understand? There’s only one way to take revenge without ruining your life: gain a position so untouchable that no one can judge or condemn you.

—……

—Keep this in your heart. And remember: you’re someone who achieved the same in a strange world overnight.

Orlan finishes speaking and infuses his mana into the magic circle drawn on paper, etching it onto Isea’s body—a circle to let her return to this world from her original one.

—When you can take revenge without destroying yourself, choose between revenge and forgiveness. And when you’ve made that choice with no doubts or regrets, remember that we’ll be waiting for you here.

With Orlan’s magic circle, Isea returns to her original world. The novel doesn’t describe what she does there or whether she chooses revenge or forgiveness. It concludes with the record of the prince, her friend and lover:

“…Isea left without hesitation, but everyone—her companions, friends, and family—believed unwaveringly that she would return. No one complained about the open-ended wait. Everyone who knew Isea spoke as if they could see her any day. Thus, Isea was absent, yet not absent.

(……)

Exactly twenty years later, at dawn, a faint blue light spread from the Great Mage Orlan’s tower. As the tower stood on the kingdom’s highest ground, everyone could see it. Like the fearless red-haired boys who once roamed the mountains, we leapt from our beds in excitement. We ran to the tower in our pajamas, heedless of propriety. When we finally flung open the weathered door, our steadfast companion, beloved friend, and blood-bound family stood there, greeting us with a smile free of doubt or regret. Only then did we stand at the starting point of the great mage Isea’s saga.”

Truly… even thinking about it now, it’s an insane masterpiece… My eyes stung, and I tilted my head back unconsciously. The novel itself was a gem, blending mainstream appeal with genre perfection, but that alone wouldn’t have left such a lasting impact. What pierced my heart most was the line: “Only when you can take revenge should you choose forgiveness to avoid regret.”

In other words, don’t choose revenge or forgiveness without power. Powerless revenge ruins your life, and powerless forgiveness leaves you with self-doubt. Hold off. Wait until you have enough power to lose nothing, nurturing your life in the meantime.

That message was a vivid hope and comfort to the child I was, startled and exhausted by the nightly shouting and cursing at home. I wasn’t just helplessly cowering—I was enduring, protecting my life until I could one day choose revenge or forgiveness.

In the afterword of The Saga of Isea, Im Jungah wrote, “I was deeply moved that the story I wrote for my child received so much love.” I remember the faint jealousy that flickered when I first read that. What would it be like to have a parent write such a story for me? That’s probably why I kept visiting Im Jungah’s blog so diligently.

Most posts were about the novel or publication updates, but the rare personal ones sometimes included photos of a small child in colorful traditional clothes or a pink dress. They were carefully framed to avoid showing the face.

…Come to think of it, how’s that kid doing? If Im Jungah has resumed activities, does that mean her daughter recovered?

I propped my chin, deep in thought, and opened a browser. Logging into my portal account revealed tens of thousands of emails. Ignoring at least fifteen years’ worth of spam, I clicked the blog tab. Im Jungah’s blog was still active, but there were no new posts.

I clicked the guestbook. The public entries were all spam. As I scrolled, the phrase “View my guestbook posts” caught my eye.

I moved my mouse but stopped. It nagged at me that Im Jungah hadn’t shared any updates despite resuming activities. If her child had recovered, wouldn’t she have said something?

“…….”

I closed the window and sighed. It was a complicated night in more ways than one.