Chương 131: S.05 Time to Fly 10(04)

Scene 03_02. She couldn't help but know why she couldn't shake the feeling that every last memory had been thrown into chaos. Seung-eun knew exactly. Only, she couldn't know what result it would lead to. That was what frustrated her. With the air of someone handed an unsolvable question, she sat in the demolition contractor's office and stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray. Deep in the small hours, a red-light district that looked to blaze like a city that never sleeps sat far off.

The size of the lavish office, walled in floor-to-ceiling glass, was far larger than Yeon-jin's. As if construction had finished not long ago, there was hardly any furniture to speak of. A large desk and an office chair were all of it. After stubbing out her cigarette, she leaned back into the large office chair again, all but lying down. There was only one thing she remembered. Scene 03_03. FLASHBACK She lifted her limping steps.

Seung-eun, her dazed mind returned, kept her spine chilled cold and barely straightened her uncomfortable leg, raising the body she'd been crouching down. Cold sweat seeped out of its own accord. Seung-eun's fully returned mind, judgment, and gaze turned toward the receding back of someone dusted in cement powder. She couldn't tell who it was. She wondered why that person walked off caked in so much cement powder, but couldn't muster the nerve to ask.

And besides, she was certain it'd be someone with nothing to do with her anyway. That was the feeling. Seung-eun's stiffly turned head faced her fallen underlings. Taking in all the bruisers knocked out cold yet whole, without a single wound, Seung-eun looked beyond them at the two who sat in silence, arms merely folded. Her chilled spine had no chance to settle. The two, who'd plopped down with arms folded and a spot laid out, opened their eyes and glared at Seung-eun. Seung-eun: Wh — what is this. You two. Why.

She was certain the reason she could remember nothing was, surely, because of those two wenches. They weren't anyone she knew, but she could tell just from their attire and ornaments. They were plainly people of 본청(Bon-cheong_Headquarters). At Seung-eun's question, the two, without so much as revealing their identities, delivered a cold yet courteous threat. Chae-rim: Take them away. All of them. So-eun: If you truly don't want to leave an arm or a leg apiece here.

At the two's calm yet eerie warning, Seung-eun retraced her ruined memory. A vision flickered, as if illusory, of the two butchering everyone with cruel abandon. But the reality was not so. Chae-rim: We simply couldn't turn a blind eye to your pulling some funny business while we were passing through, so take them away. Soon, they'll all wake. So-eun and Chae-rim only then slowly rose to their feet. In their empty hands, along with small motes of light, 무구(Mu-gu_Ritual instrument) took shape in an instant.

So-eun: If you've no intention of answering.... Scene 03_04. It was a memory of scrambling to flee like a dog. The aggravation she'd suffered this past Monday. What was more chilling was that even whether it was real remained uncertain. She opened her closed eyes. What opened them was the loud buzzing of the phone she'd left lying on the desk. Seung-eun reached out a hand as if it were a bother and picked up the phone. Seung-eun: Busy?

At Seung-eun's bothered frown and short question, Yeon-jin, on the other end of the line, answered in a sullen voice. Yeon-jin: None of your business. Seung-eun: You motherless piece of shit. When your big sister asks, try answering nicely just once. Yeon-jin: I'm calling even though I'm busy, so quit the bullshit and just tell me why you wanted me to call. Seung-eun: You — nothing happened to you? Yeon-jin: Nothing's happened since you, you bitch, killed the ace of my establishment. Why.

Seung-eun: You piece of fucking shit, you gonna keep acting like a piece of fucking shit? Yeon-jin: Ah, this motherless piece of shit, seriously — you hoping something happened? Huh?! Why, so you can drag off my girls and kill them again?! Seung-eun: Ah, forget it. What are you doing tomorrow? Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Yeon-jin: Fridays I'm busy. If you've got something to say to my face, say it on the weekend.

Seung-eun: What's a head whore got going on besides spreading her legs?! Quit yapping and see me Friday. Yeon-jin: Unless you're gonna spread 'em for me instead, how about you shut it? You're just gonna spew some trivial crap that could've been done over the phone anyway. Yeon-jin's words left her at a loss for what to say. To begin with, she felt she'd utterly forgotten why she'd meant to ask to meet.

Seung-eun, as if her tangled head had grown complicated again, pressed her forehead and hung up the phone without a word. Leaving the phone she'd flung down in irritation, she cupped her face again as if washing it dry. Rubbing her face, Seung-eun rose from where she sat with a great sigh. Scene 04. She left nothing behind. No — rather, she left everything. She made her preparations no differently than usual. Over her freshly washed body went not a 한복(Han-bok_Traditional Korean dress) but a sleek suit.

What result it would bring was all too plain. It was merely the first step of the long days she'd resolved to walk toward. The flat silence of deep night carried the raucous snoring around her. She left not a single note. She didn't take even one of the face masks she'd used. She merely smoothed down the stockings and skirt suit she'd put on, then threw a thick coat over it — that was all. She swept her somewhat lengthened hair back. Though nothing would change, she was certain everything would.

She'd chosen to do it this way. What she'd chosen, she was certain she'd see through, no matter what. So she resolved. So she was certain. Stepping calmly, she opened the firmly shut 창호지(Changhoji_Traditional paper-paneled door). After sliding her feet into the high stilettos she'd set out beforehand on the 댓돌(Dat-dol_Stepping stone), she stepped out calmly. She didn't hesitate in the slightest. She merely deemed that the time had come. She didn't hesitate. And so she resolved to turn cruel.

Those steps paused for a moment. At the alert that buzzed in her pocket, she halted and reached a hand into it. The phone she drew out held a single text. Short as it was, she only stared at it for a long while. It was a night deep enough that no one would draw near. Closing the phone she'd gazed at blankly for so long, she resumed her remaining steps. She didn't bother to lock the door of the quarters she'd stayed in. Even if one looked, there was nothing to see, and even if one tried, there was nothing to take.

She merely left it be, deeming it a place she could never return to. Paying no mind to the unlocked door, she merely carried her remaining steps onward. She merely carried steps that weren't light, forcing them to seem light. She sensed a presence. She paused the steps she'd aimed toward her car, parked in the south gate lot. She made to deliver her voice, but didn't. The presence, too, didn't bother to step forward. And that presence was not just one.

Unaware of each other's place, they merely watched her steps from behind in silence. Toward the two wordless presences sensed from separate places, she didn't bother to send any word. She deemed it respect. It was respect for herself, and respect toward those who watched. Deeming it a road that would never cross again, she didn't bother to exchange a farewell. At the last, she delivered a voice she'd struggled to keep from regret, from showing anything. It's cold. Still. It was a brief voice meaning go back inside.

As if they'd understood the flat intent she'd conveyed in that small voice, the two presences who'd come to see her off, settled in their separate places, didn't bother to obey it. Behind the corners of her lips raised briefly, she opened the firmly shut driver's door and loaded herself in. Scene 05. Ji-young faced the morning light in silence. Today, no one came calling. She hadn't woken from loneliness. Nor had she opened her eyes early from any sense of something amiss.

Letting out a small breath, Ji-young — dressed in her work 한복(Han-bok_Traditional Korean dress) despite the early hour — sat on the 보료(Bo-ryo_cushioned mat) and rubbed her throbbing forehead. She did not frown. Having resolved to grow used to it, having grown certain it wouldn't last long, Ji-young silently tended to her own pain. With a small sigh she rose. Ji-young's steps headed outside.

Crossing the wooden floor, Ji-young put on the 운혜(Unhye_Everyday traditional shoes) set on the 댓돌(Dat-dol_Stepping stone), and just as she fitted her feet snug onto the stepping stone and made to cross the yard, Gyeong-seo's steps were coming in through the open gate, into Ji-young's quarters. Ji-young greeted Gyeong-seo's approach with a calm smile. Ji-young: Up early, aren't you? As if it wasn't yet official work hours, Ji-young offered Gyeong-seo an easy voice.

Gyeong-seo calmly folded both hands and bowed to Ji-young. Gyeong-seo: The Oldest. Are you busy? She didn't look like the Gyeong-seo who'd been raising a ruckus only the day before. But at that voice of Gyeong-seo's, Ji-young didn't let anything show. Taking Gyeong-seo by the upper arm, Ji-young spoke to her first, as if no one else were around. Ji-young: It's all right. Because I, will stop it. As if she knew every reason for Gyeong-seo's grave urgency, Ji-young calmly soothed her sorrowful voice.

Gyeong-seo quickly put her thoughts in order. Gyeong-seo: The number of intact censers falls far short. Ji-young: Just use the ones already made. It's fine to use them. Gyeong-seo: It won't do. Ji-young: If I go along, nothing will happen. At Ji-young's flat persuasion, Gyeong-seo, as if her tangled mind had cleared in an instant, asked the last piece with a small breath. Gyeong-seo: Is it a road the pursuer follows, or a road shaped by one who's gone astray? Ji-young: They're no different. Not yet.

Having heard answer enough, Gyeong-seo deliberated again. At the end of a brief deliberation, she asked after the solution she'd not yet heard. Gyeong-seo: I caught on too late. Tell me how I can stop it. To Gyeong-seo's question Ji-young, rather than answering, quietly asked her instead. Ji-young: Right now, who all knows? Gyeong-seo: Only Yeo Eun-jae, Director of the Directorate of Support, and me. Even the Director of the Inspectorate doesn't know yet. Ji-young: Ha, of course.

Looks like there's no fooling the Goblin. Gyeong-seo: After preparing all the censers yesterday, she quietly told me. That it seemed one more kind of sorcery had been put in. She asked if it was intended, and when I retraced it then, the incantation held within wasn't only supplication, solace, and blessing. A curse lay hidden in it as well. Ji-young: It'll only be used as far as the solace. Gyeong-seo: How can you be certain? Ji-young: Because only then can it drag me along. Gyeong-seo: The Oldest.

Ji-young: Yes, Gyeong-seo. At Ji-young's calm call, Gyeong-seo felt an odd sense of déjà vu. The voice of the old elder, held in the note on the liquor bottle, flickered faintly through her. Dazed for a moment, Gyeong-seo bit down gently on her lip and bowed her head low. Gyeong-seo: Is that, the choice of the one gone astray? Ji-young: She said it was the only way to repay it. Gyeong-seo only sighed in silence and, belatedly and slowly, raised the head she'd bowed low for so long.

As if she'd heard every answer, Gyeong-seo lightly shed her troubled look and gave a small laugh in a flat voice. Beyond that light laugh sat the faintest trace of regret. Gyeong-seo: No wonder she was drinking her ass off for days. At Gyeong-seo's muttering, Ji-young twitched the corners of her lips. Gyeong-seo: That one left without even saying goodbye, didn't she? Ji-young: Hey, don't even get me started. Last night she sat I-seon sis and even Jeong-in down in front of her and drank again.

Till she was dead drunk. Gyeong-seo: Ji-young sis, did you, see her go? Ji-young nodded without a word. Ji-young: Though it wasn't a goodbye. Gyeong-seo: That sis is secretly a real softie, so she'd have wanted to do nothing right up to the end. Still, she let I-seon sis and Jeong-in see her off to the end. Ji-young gave a wry, idle laugh. Gyeong-seo: Then, was that sis living like a lab rat all this time? At Ji-young's idle laugh, Gyeong-seo asked with a slightly colder intuition. Ji-young nodded ever so slightly.

Gyeong-seo: Seeing as Chae-rim sis is nowhere around, looks like she'll be staying by that sis's side after all. Doubling as So-hui sis's guide. Ji-young: Wow, Mun Gyeong-seo. That's damn sharp. You should just be the next Strat — Before Gyeong-seo could even hear the next word, she hardened her expression coldly and shook her head with all her might.