“It echoed.”
“It didn’t!”
Even after wiping with the towel, traces remained. I was pleased—no, relieved that he’d gone smoothly. Why was I crying?
“There’s no leisure to check on pleasantries.”
He staggered to his feet and retrieved the fallen spear. Though unbroken, its once pure white gleam was now dulled. Severing only part of the system had proven no easy task—if it were, the Doting Addicts or other transcendents would’ve tried long ago. Though nearly spent, I tucked it carefully into my inventory in case it proved useful again.
Brrrr—
The ownerless space shuddered and began to collapse. The one granted temporary admiralty was the departed Seong-Hyeonje, not this weary shell of him. I glanced between the two n.
“The kids all returned safely—what are you doing?”
Why was he still seated? Seong-Hyeonje flexed and extended his fingers slowly.
“All four made it back fine, though my body’s tattered.”
“Pardon?”
“My mana’s drained, my power scattered, and my stamina wholly consud. You’d call a discarded rag now.”
Goodness. Directing such hollow energy at Seong-Hyeonje for the first ti, Director Song supported him upright.
“You shouldn’t lure soone like Seong-Hyeonje so recklessly—he ends up wounded and abandoned. Congratulations on joining his list of discarded bonds!”
Literally a textbook case of self-inflicted misery. In any event, I needed to return to my room... but the system wouldn’t respond. Oh no. Flustered, I explained while Director Song half-lifted Seong-Hyeonje onto his back.
“Is there a problem?”
“...Yes. I can’t teleport to my room. The system—well, before regression Seong-Hyeonje and I severed the connection between the system and our world.”
“Eh?”
Director Song looked startled.
“If the system’s offline, what happens to dungeons? I believe the system alone holds back monsters from pouring in. Without it...”
He was genuinely alard. I quickly laid out the situation.
“The system is still installed—it’s just the network that’s severed. Only communications. Nothing else changes. But now the local system is malfunctioning, and this space is collapsing without its master... so I can’t link to my room.”
My power alone couldn’t send there; I needed system assistance for spatial transit. With it down, I was stuck. To compound things, Myung-woo and the new recruits seed unable to contact . The r-Queen’s silence was a relief, though.
Rumble—bits of the room’s edges crumbled away. Fragnts lted like snow and vanished. My heart pounded at the emptiness beyond. I needed Peace. I missed my sister.
“...I know my room’s location intimately. I’ll have to travel there on foot, Director Song.”
I swallowed and continued.
“Could you open a path?”
I needed to traverse those unknowable interdiate spaces—beyond system domains—to reach my room. Weakened beyond Seong-Hyeonje himself, I lacked the strength to carve a route with mana and system alone. But Director Song could. He wielded the primal force that nullified everything. The system was founded on the Source; Plunder was the Source’s shadow cast to remove Seong-Hyeonje. Now that he was gone, creating a passage should be effortless.
“Tell what to do.”
Director Song, catching on that I ant Plunder, nodded. He opened the lagging system window, and I applied the Instructor skill to him.
“I’ll link the path to your senses—follow the sensation even if you see nothing.”
The shortest, simplest route. I drank a mana potion and set off for my room. The system creaked back to life. Once more I heard Seong-Hyeonje’s room collapse. A lonely hollow stirred in my chest.
“...Director Song, there should be a painting in your inventory. It belongs to —please return it.”
Aside from the Plunder he’d given , it was my only keepsake. His own body was gone, leaving no trace. Could he truly revel in that?
“There’s no painting. But there’s a postcard.”
I turned. Seong-Hyeonje produced a single postcard from his inventory—a scene of the Alps, how or when acquired, I could not guess.
“For Han Yujin.”
“Here.”
I took the postcard. I recalled the nightmare dungeon Seong-Hyeonje there. After so long, he still gave it to . I glanced at it briefly, then stowed it. Among these tangled emotions, a small smile broke free. He really did give everything.
“Director Song! Prepare yourself! Seong-Hyeonje, have this.”
“A curious taste.”
Accepting the tiny cookie, Seong-Hyeonje murmured.
“I did prefer smaller things. Though half its size might also do nicely... and it cares for the child well.”
“Childcare demands stamina.”
True enough. I shrank Seong-Hyeonje and tucked him at my waist, then clambered onto Director Song’s back, draping myself lightly over one shoulder. Though tempting, I restrained myself from eating a cookie—any potion-like substance in my system risked corrupting the system’s mana.
“Be careful not to fall.”
Crackle—darkness pressed in from behind. Director Song bent slightly, then stomped the floor. He dashed ahead along the path I’d shared. As he ran, platforms ford beneath his steps like Seong-Hyeonje’s had. With a leap, a shadow flickered in Song Taewon’s right hand, darker and broader than before.
Thunk!
His fist struck the air, rending it like clay to form a corridor. Seizing the gap, Song Taewon surged forward. The great body that carried cut lightly through space speckled with light, darkness, and every hue.
“Good—keep going like this!”
My domain, my room, drew nearer. At the sa ti, I felt Seong-Hyeonje’s space vanish entirely. I did not look back; the past sank once more into oblivion.
Thunk!
Shadow spread, opening yet another passage. The fragnts of a departing past paved my way forward.
“...There’s still work to be done, though.”
I explained to both of them that, once all traces of the connection were erased, transcendents could no longer ddle in our world.
“But the seeds of ruin remain.”
I spoke of the transcendent seed the Crescent had planted in the life-ga.
“...I hope it’s no one we know.”
“At least not Director Song or , nor those who died before regression.”
Not Hyun or Myung-woo or Noah. As a transcendent seed, it would stand out. It might be Riette, born S-Rank, or soone unknown—but the pri suspect was...
“I suspect it’s Mari.”
Mari Taylor—the S-Rank hunter the Crescent had tried to wed to Seong-Hyeonje. She wielded the power of Fantasy Manifestation, deeply tied to the moon.
“She wasn’t there before regression. Then she appeared suddenly, an S-Rank with unique moon-linked power. The Crescent likely lacked the interference to create a new S-Rank; instead, it probably awakened its planted seed in her.”
“Mari was indeed distinctive.”
“What do you think, Director Song? You lived with her.”
“I never had the chance to converse with her—she attacked .”
...Director Song ruefully admitted missing out on friendly conversation.
“If the link’s gone, the seed might never hatch. Should we see it through intact, we’ll gain ti—leeway.”
Seong-Hyeonje would have ti to heal himself; Song Taewon would gain breathing room.
“We’ll hold back the dungeons and forge a stable world. You won’t need to dash about as you do now. More senior hunters will rise in Korea, more will enter the Council chambers. There are people who look up to you, Director Song.”
The Council’s Awakener Administration had endured far better than expected after Song Taewon’s death because he had been there. More aspirants longed to emulate the wealthy, famous hunters, but many also admired Song Taewon’s broad dedication to society.
Children grow watching Guildmasters Haeyeon and Sesung-Breaker—but also the one who stands between them and danger.
“You could share the workload. As people grow accustod, work will lessen. How about a side role?”
“Dual employnt is forbidden.”
“I’ll sort that out. How about principal? If it’s too much, you can be ‘Teacher Song’—we’ll lobby for a public post.”
Director Song’s lips pressed into a line. Seong-Hyeonje chid in from my waist.
“You could be Principal Song. Tempting.”
“If you decline, I’ll take the role. And Seong-Hyeonje... hm, let’s make you the nutrition teacher.”
“I should find Han Yujin a university gift.”
“A university—oh!”
To teach in academia, I needed a degree. Even an Awakened-only college would require graduation. While principal «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» was a jest, I had to plan realistically.
“We already have three students of schooling age, and more will co—including goblins and other Awakened. A new school could spring up overnight.”
Director Song remained silent.
“And the als will be delicious. Right, our nutritionist and supply coordinator?”
“I’ll serve with care.”
Children must be well-fed above all. I felt my room close at hand, and the welcoming faces awaiting beyond.
“...I don’t know.”
Thrum—Song Taewon sprinted forward along the carved path. His gaze fixed on the deepening shadow in his hand; his eyes trembled at the sight of that would-be Plunder.
“He’s unpredictable.”
My racing footsteps halted before the final wall. No need to break it—this was my domain. I climbed down from Director Song’s back. Song Taewon looked at Seong-Hyeonje peeking from the little bag.
“From beginning to end.”
“Yes—”
I tried to concur, but his eyes turned on , and I fell silent as mories of my deeds flashed through my mind.
“This ti, I was honestly angry.”
“...I’m sorry. Seong-Hyeonje, you should apologize too.”
“I won’t. I might have done the sa, so no apologies from .”
Seong-Hyeonje looked up brazenly at Director Song.
“I like Song Taewon.”
“I like Director Song too.”
Director Song sighed deeply and turned away.
“...I don’t dislike you. But I can’t give you an answer.”
“That’s fine. Now you have ti to decide. So for now...”
I stepped closer to the wall and placed my fingertip upon it. My space opened, revealing the familiar view.
“Let’s focus on returning safely after all this.”
“Hyung!”
A joyful voice and two arms swept in. I was drawn into the crowd in an instant.
“What on earth happened to your face? And why are you—crying?”
“Uncle! Did you cry?”
Kiyaang! -
“Yujin, you’ll catch a cold like that.”
“Who made you cry? Seong-Hyeonje? Bring him out here.”
“Mmph!”
Why was Hwangrim tied up with a gag in the corner? What had he done? Irin fluttered over and began drying my wet clothes.
“I’m all right. And this is the present Seong-Hyeonje. The one who took the bet—he’s gone, returned to his own ti.”
Seong-Hyeonje waved lightly to the gazes turned upon him.
“Seong-Hyeonje has gone, hasn’t he? I wanted to say goodbye.”
“Is that why you cried?”
“No. I didn’t cry. Sothing got in my eye.”
“It’s okay to cry. Hyung holds it all in too much.”
“No, I’m fine. And he was happy—he saw what he wanted, bid his farewell properly.”
“Really?”
Mari blinked her damp eyes. She had grown fond of Seong-Hyeonje. Kind, vivacious, better than I’d expected. All the more I hoped she was not the transcendent seed. Even if she were, I wished her the life she desired.
[Honey!]
A notification crackled in the ssage window. A newcor? The r-Queen called Honey, so I confused the ssages.
“Is this a newcor? I broke part of the system!”
[This way]
[to exit]
[Honey]
...The r-Queen.
[Wait!]
A distant thunder rumbled. mories of my old ho dissolved. The empty void expanded, world shaking.
[I’ll open a passage!]
[Story—]
[While I reestablish the link—]
[Just a mont]
[Until it’s fully restored]
Alternating ssages from the newcor and the r-Queen flew in. The newcor was repairing the system so the r-Queen could reconnect too. I toggled ssages and system windows, glancing at everyone.
“No ti for explanations—let’s escape!”
Hyun swept up in her arms; Peace solidified; Noah unfolded his wings.
[Run!]
[Honey—]
Groooonk! The space warped, revealing a broad straight corridor. At once—
Swoooosh—
Water surged. In monts, it rose to my ankles, then raging waves erupted all around.
“Run!”
With that vast wall of deep blue water behind us, we took flight, racing down the corridor.
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