[mory of Bonds: A Feast of Sumr Flowers]
Amuse-Bouche
Peach and Basil Oil
The bright sweetness of a ripe, seasonal peach, enhanced with fragrant basil oil. A fresh herbal aroma delivers the first thrill of the course.
Appetizer
Tomato Carpaccio with Rose Vinaigrette
Thinly sliced tomato paired with a vinaigrette capturing the elegance of roses. A vivid floral fragrance and refreshing acidity awaken the senses of sumr.
Warm Appetizer
Burrata Cheese and Fig Confit
Creamy burrata topped with warmly stewed fig confit. The dense richness of the cheese and the deep sweetness of the fruit create a soft harmony.
Grain Course
Saffron Risotto with Grilled Prawns
Risotto infused with the delicate aroma of golden saffron, accompanied by plump, grilled prawns. The grain's abundant texture brims with the exotic flavors of sumr.
Main Course
Herb-Crusted Rack of Lamb with Cherry Sauce
Tender lamb rack roasted in a fragrant herb crust, finished with a cherry sauce bearing bright acidity. Juicy richness and the bounty of fruit fill the palate with savory depth.
Pre-Dessert
Lavender Grapefruit Granita
A granita where the subtle aroma of lavender ets the bittersweet acidity of grapefruit. A refreshing palate cleanser, preparing the way for what follows.
Dessert
Dark Chocolate Mousse and Raspberry
Rich, intense dark chocolate mousse crowned with fresh raspberries. The deep lingering notes of cacao and the vibrancy of wild berries create a sumptuous finish.
***
It was just after the al.
"Did you know?"
He didn't bother with small talk. They'd seen enough of each other.
"......"
"Everyone wears a mask."
The Guest Without Taste had begun eating before Yeon-woo even touched his utensils. Confirming that the other was nonetheless listening, Yeon-woo continued.
"There are certainly differences in kind and degree. The most typical case would be to navigate social life more skillfully. The sa applies to ."
"......"
"When dining with friends, the face that suits the occasion. At work, deferential to superiors, dependable to colleagues. But go a bit deeper... and it becos far more ticulous."
"......"
"After a while, I can't rember exactly what my own face looked like. It happens sotis. I imagine it's all the more so for soone who's lived longer than I have."
He had no appetite. Still.
"I know you dislike ."
"......"
The Guest Without Taste raised his head and looked at Yeon-woo. That naked reaction brought a fresh realization. He no longer intended to put on airs in front of him.
But yes—he'd rather have this sort of attitude.
"So, thank you."
How much easier this was to look at.
"I prefer having a conversation face to face."
"...Conversation."
"It seems this is the first proper conversation we've ever had."
How long had he lived? Hard to say. But if Yeon-woo's conjecture was right, The Guest Without Taste was a senior in life who'd lived far longer than he had.
So he might well have forgotten even his own face. That was how Yeon-woo saw it. An old man who'd forgotten how to bring out his own face because it had been buried for so long.
'He looks middle-aged.'
But his way of thinking seed frozen in infancy.
'But this is better.'
He felt considerably more at ease.
"We haven't known each other long, of course, but even soone like
can tell. Your personality is truly awful."
"Oh."
"Childish yet full of desire—wanting to do and have so many things with only two hands, grasping all you can yet making a ss of whatever's left. Always ' first,' 'I am the center of the world,' 'I am more precious than anything'...."
No.
"Soone who should have been precious."
And yet such a person had learned self-loathing. Yeon-woo could tell.
"Pardon . When you consud my blood and I gained control over yours, I read those mories. I was able to get a sense of what emotions you'd carried and what kind of life you'd lived."
He could have known even without reading blood. The actions were far too direct compared to the carefully crafted behavior and expressions.
"That's why I said it."
"That we're not different."
Setting down his cutlery, the man asked.
"Why?"
"......"
Ah, honestly.
"...I have quite a lot to say myself, but...."
What was he supposed to do with this overgrown child?
"...Shall we start from here? Why do you believe we're different?"
"Reasons abound. From the very beginning of all this, to my end and your process."
"For soone who's observed for centuries, the logic is rather thin."
He'd expected this response, but it was still absurd.
"People are all different."
Do you not know about DNA?
"From one to ten, everything is different. Appearance, birthplace, small habits, and even voice, the structure of blood and cells—all different. Completely identical beings... well, even if clones existed, I don't think they could be entirely the sa."
Humans all lived in different tis.
"So there's no logic in your argunt. The re fact that our life paths differed? Should that be the basis for difference? I won't accept it as grounds."
"The one being unreasonable is you—as you yourself said, we're different from our very appearances."
"If the 'difference' we're discussing was only ever that trivial, then there was no reason for
to co here at all. How sad."
"But we are clearly different."
He slowly opened his hands.
"I, from arrogance. You, from goodwill."
"......"
"I could not control myself. You did."
"......"
"I... failed...."
"And I succeeded?"
Yes—that was precisely the point.
"?"
Still with that dry, humorless face, Yeon-woo asked back.
"Because you crumbled and I didn't?"
"You couldn't deny it."
"You're overestimating ."
He asked calmly.
"Do I look perfect to you?"
He didn't want to react with sensitivity. He pitied the man's shallow evasion—justifying his own failure and fall by dismissing even another's graceless struggle as innate nobility.
"Does being a Velmareth—in the realm of the transcendent—make
look like so subli god?"
A being who'd lived for centuries, unable to bear the weight of his own failures, deaning himself to a beast and making excuses. That wasn't understanding—it was resignation.
As long as the man sat before him, Yeon-woo had no intention of leaving him to that resignation.
"How lightly..."
"......"
"must you have regarded , to say such things?"
Yeon-woo's gaze sank.
That way of thinking ant abandoning even one's own potential. He had no particular right to scold or teach, either. He simply drew a clear line against having himself dragged into the other's evasion.
"I expected insight befitting an ancient blood mage, but it seems you've been viewing
through that flimsy a asure."
"Are you angry?"
"I'm saying: don't use
as an excuse to rationalize your resignation."
He smiled without managing to smooth his furrowed brow.
"Now that things have wrapped up well, I'll say this...."
Yeon-woo decided to willingly share his own story.
"I didn't want to be here."
"I understand."
"I didn't want to wear that stifling suit, either. I could only smile if I put sothing on, like brainwashing myself. I had to repeat self-harm and experints I never needed to do, and now—"
"Yes."
"I don't even know if I can call myself human anymore."
That was closer to an objective truth spoken to the person before him than an emotional plea.
"You ask why we're different. You could do it, so why couldn't I? Do I look like I managed? Did it look like I could control myself, my surroundings, everything connected to ?"
"......"
"Did I really look like I never crumbled?"
Truly—as though he'd walked here gracefully, without a single fall?
"Can you honestly say that?"
He was no god. Just an imperfect person who hoped to stand back up even while falling uglily. And so The Guest Without Taste, too, had no reason to use him as an excuse to diminish his own life.
Yeon-woo, eyes closed, exhaled slowly as though untangling knotted emotions.
"......"
"...I'm not a person of virtue."
Closer to the opposite.
"I'm arrogant enough to believe I can control my surroundings with my own power, and greedy enough that anything I don't know must co within my grasp."
"That's...."
"How is that different from you?"
"It should be different."
"Then what, exactly?"
Yeon-woo scanned his surroundings, then asked.
"Does it look like I have anything left?"
"......"
The Guest Without Taste spoke.
"...This lavish building, your devil, and your many staff?"
"Those were never originally mine."
"And yet they're by your side, in your hands...."
"Then why don't you try to hold onto sothing yourself?"
"...Well...."
"I lost what I originally had, too."
Ho, family, friends. Everyone in the world had forgotten him, and now even his identity was gone. All that remained of what Lee Yeon-woo had originally possessed was 'Lee Yeon-woo' himself.
And the sa was true of the man before him.
"There may have been a beginning, but nothing has ended. You simply refuse to see that."
"......"
Yeon-woo tilted his head slightly.
"Everyone carries desire and hunger. The possibility of collapse is utterly universal, and all the more so for those who've undergone the Crimson Core Comntary ritual, like us."
Wasn't that obvious?
"Does your fall seem so uniquely special to you? Don't deceive yourself—I'm falling alongside you. Even I can't know how far my own humanity might degrade...."
"......"
"You're right, I endured sowhat better. But so what? It's rely a result that could be overturned at any ti—it can't be called a fundantal difference."
"......"
"Do you understand what I'm saying?"
It shouldn't be that difficult.
"It ans we're not on parallel lines, but on the sa one."
"...But that's...."
"You a bit further ahead,
a bit further behind."
"That's...."
"And a line is."
Yeon-woo looked once more at the host across from him.
"An arrangent of countless points."
"......"
"...Do you believe anything in this world is truly noble?"
What was 'nobility' in the first place?
"And what's the standard for perfection?"
Yet such words existed. Which ant the 'nobility' and 'perfection' people spoke of were rely temporary states—nothing more than the accumulation of repeated actions.
"Of course, they might exist—this world seems far wider than I'd thought. But at the very least, I doubt they apply to people like you or ...."
"Is that so?"
"And so I'd like to give you a gift."
When Yeon-woo wiggled his fingers, a staff mber approached and offered a silver pot.
"......"
"......"
A pot containing coffee.
"I hear that coffee served by the host is a sign of affection."
"So they say."
"Won't you pour a cup for soone who ca to pay his respects?"
"Gladly."
Coffee poured into a silver cup ca to Yeon-woo across the table. Still with nothing but a fatigued face, Yeon-woo lifted the cup naturally.
Then one sip.
"......"
Two sips.
"......"
Three sips.
"......"
"...Ah."
Yeon-woo showed the empty interior of the cup, then set it down on the table.
"What a relief."
He asked.
"What do my negative emotions taste like?"
"......"
"Just monts ago they felt so vivid, but now... well."
"......"
"I'm not sure anymore."
"Ah...."
"Fortunately, they seem to suit your palate."
For so reason, The Guest Without Taste stared fixedly at Yeon-woo. An expression of bewildernt—unbefitting a being who'd consud the emotions of countless people.
Yeon-woo assessed his own condition.
'...I can feel my emotions dulling.'
Or perhaps the exact opposite. The unfamiliar emotions arriving mont by mont struck with sharp clarity.
'In this case, to be precise, it's not that they're dull... they form and then scatter?'
Too vivid to call dull, yet simultaneously accompanied by a strange sense of detachnt from reality. He felt as though he were an audience mber in a cinema, watching all of this and the accompanying emotions from the outside.
'Receiving only information, literally.'
He'd considered this before, but this notion of 'having your emotions consud' had many scientifically ambiguous aspects. Was the amygdala or hippocampus affected? Or the mPFC?
And yet it wasn't that he couldn't feel emotions. Even if they scattered quickly, it wasn't as though emotional mory failed to accumulate entirely. Yeon-woo felt a bit strange.
"......"
It was a domain difficult to explain with science.
'...This is an entirely different pattern from when at least negative emotions remained.'
But it was certainly more comfortable than before. At least now, reason and emotion shed. When only negative emotions remained, he'd felt as though he were experiencing a split personality.
Well, that said.
"...I didn't expect you'd enjoy them that much."
"I."
"How is it?"
Yeon-woo lifted a wine glass instead of the empty silver cup.
"Simpler than you expected, and vulgar, isn't it?"
The emotions of the person called 'Lee Yeon-woo,' whom the vampire had overestimated.
With this, The Guest Without Taste had consud both Yeon-woo's light and dark. He would know now. While the positive alone may have seed noble, hadn't he consud the negative as well?
Having moistened his throat with wine, Yeon-woo looked at the other with an expressionless face.
"Do I still look like a perfect person?"
"......"
"Do I look like a flawless success?"
"......"
He answered.
"No."
"Well understood."
"You are...."
"I'm ordinary."
Just an ordinary person.
"Nothing more than a sorry excuse of a person who can't even keep himself together."
That was all.
***
The man understood why Yeon-woo spoke that way.
"I didn't want to be here."
"I understand."
Of course not—who would want to remain bound to the place that had made them 'that'? At the very least, a human could not. He'd been rendered unable to escape hell while still alive.
"I didn't want to wear that stifling suit, either. I could only smile if I put sothing on, as though brainwashing myself. I had to repeat self-harm and experints I never needed to do, and now—"
"Yes."
"I don't even know if I can call myself human anymore."
To that, the man couldn't bring himself to say 'You probably can't.' Yeon-woo was too human for that, and perhaps precisely because of it, he already knew.
"You ask why we're different?"
Yeon-woo kept pouring it out.
"You could do it, so why couldn't I? Do I look like I managed? Did it look like I could control myself, my surroundings, everything connected to ?"
You truly didn't want that path, and—
"Did I really look like I never crumbled?"
So he must have crumbled after all.
"......"
"Can you honestly say that?"
He'd thought it wouldn't co to this.
'Is this the real face?'
He always changed faces.
'Voice, too.'
'Body, too.'
'Behavior, too.'
He hadn't known the true form, never shown to anyone, would be this young. Hadn't known the hidden temperant would be this upright.
"I'm not a person of virtue."
You were a person of virtue.
"I'm arrogant enough to believe I can control my surroundings with my own power, and greedy enough that anything I don't know must co within my grasp."
"That's...."
The man couldn't bring himself to continue. Because the newly born version of him held no mories of the past. But the man, who did rember, now thought in hindsight:
'With that arrogance and greed, you must have done things I don't know about.'
He didn't know what had beco of all those people you'd supposedly made vanish. Because he'd carelessly assud your nature was similar to his own and hadn't given it a second thought.
But now, even the grounds for your infamy seed doubtful.
'If you were truly as your reputation suggested, the souls bound to this hotel wouldn't follow you so devotedly.'
The sight of them clinging, begging sohow to be saved—the man had no choice but to respond.
"How is that different from you?"
"It should be different."
"Then what, exactly."
Anything.
"Does it look like I have anything left?"
"......"
The man said.
"...This lavish building, your devil, and your many staff?"
Look—you're still trapped here, trying to turn this hell into paradise.
"Those were never originally mine."
"And yet they're by your side, in your hands...."
The world still calls you The Devil.
***
The 'negative emotions' he'd just swallowed were, compared to that grandiose infamy, staggeringly ordinary.
Not raging against the world, not completely steeped in agony, yet unable to let everything go with detachnt, either.
Too ordinary to be called perfect....
"......"
A person.
'...To still be like this after going through all that.'
What an unfathomable tragedy it was, to beco a god while remaining human.
"...Hah...."
It seed only you had forgotten that.
Reviews
All reviews (0)