Chương 15: S.04 Memory of the Clock 03(05)

Scene 17. Su-jeong did not make the first move. Her expression was vacant, but deep hatred smoldered in both eyes. Whether that hatred was directed at Si-yeon was unclear. What was certain was that nothing about the present reality satisfied her. Su-jeong asked Si-yeon in a low voice. Su-jeong: This is where I should never have brought you back. Si-yeon, blade still trained on Su-jeong, held her ground without moving. Si-yeon: Yeah. But thanks to you, I got to be with good people. Even got a mother I never had.

Su-jeong: So now you're grateful? To me? Si-yeon: In part. Su-jeong: Then don't stand in my way. Si-yeon: I let Mother go the same way — and now you want me to let the rest of my people go like that too? Su-jeong: I can't stand how unfair it is. That my little sister died like that. Si-yeon: Yeah. I feel the same way about that. But I don't go thinking about killing other people over it. Su-jeong: I guess it bothers you less. Si-yeon: If you wanna jerk off over it that bad, then jerk off.

Su-jeong steadied the vacant hatred at Si-yeon's provocation, sharpening it into something with purpose. She carefully reset her footing. Si-yeon: I hear that once you shatter against me, you'll never meet again. Ever. Su-jeong nodded slowly. Si-yeon: That's a shame. You won't even get to hear what she really wanted. Su-jeong: Isn't that the same for you? Si-yeon: Maybe. That's why I decided to live without shame. So that even if someone looks down on me again, I won't be ashamed.

I want the fake father I killed to look at me and feel ashamed instead. I want my little sister — the one who died at that bastard's hands — to look at me and feel proud. Su-jeong: Then have I been living shamefully? Si-yeon: How's that my problem? After Si-yeon's bright grin, fury boiled up in Su-jeong and she surged forward, closing the distance in an instant. Scene 18.

Jeong-hyeon, already dead, stained the white paper black with 검은 물(Geomeun-mul_Black Water), split the soaked sheets apart, and stepped inside at an unhurried pace. She checked on Si-yeon, bleeding on the floor, but the wound had already vanished without a trace. Si-yeon had only lost consciousness from the impact. Seong-hyeon laid Si-yeon flat on her back, then rose to face Jeong-hyeon approaching her. Seong-hyeon's eyes trembled at the sight.

A complicated expression crossed her face before she managed a belated nod. In a voice she could not steady, Seong-hyeon spoke. Seong-hyeon: Yeah. It was yours, sis. Jeong-hyeon: Can't exactly take it back now. Not looking like this. Seong-hyeon: Then why did you have to act so pathetically? Jeong-hyeon: I was unhappy with everything.

When Former 단장 (Dan-jang_The Oldest) cast only you out and kept me behind, when I found out our father was the ringleader of the second calamity — honestly, I just wished the winning side had won. I was sick of things being complicated. I just wanted to pick the simple winning side. Preferably one where I was the winner. Seong-hyeon: And that's how you ended up dead. Jeong-hyeon: Yeah. No idea why I bothered trying. Not when I look at myself now. Seong-hyeon: You never tried, sis. Not once. Jeong-hyeon: Ah. Right.

Someone who can't stand being inconvenienced — no way she ever tried at anything. Seong-hyeon: Go back. You can't win, sis. Jeong-hyeon: Don't you think it's a little funny, telling me I can't win when all you're carrying is a lousy 사류 (Sa-ryu_Branch Relic)? If it were really that powerful, would I have died in the first place? Jeong-hyeon set her footing and readied herself to face Seong-hyeon. All Jeong-hyeon had was the footwork her body remembered.

That footwork would carry no sorcery, no consolation—that much was certain. Seong-hyeon did not feel sorry for her. Seong-hyeon prepared the same stance. White paper formed in Seong-hyeon's hands and began to trail down to the floor. Jeong-hyeon watched in silence, then let a sneering grin spread. Jeong-hyeon: The big boss in there did something cute, at least. Jeong-hyeon shot forward. In her two previously empty hands, a single sharp sickle had materialized.

Black Water beaded along the soot-blackened blade as she carved out a vicious set of strikes. It was nothing like the footwork Jeong-hyeon had been preparing. Seong-hyeon rolled white paper tight and barely caught the edge of Jeong-hyeon's savage hand-strike and sickle shaft. But Seong-hyeon had not yet mastered the full set of movements—she faltered, and the sickle's tip found the back of her shoulder. The curved blade hooked past Seong-hyeon's shoulder and burrowed in, cleaving muscle. Blood flowed.

Seong-hyeon's clothes soaked through with her own blood as the sickle, buried behind her shoulder, followed Jeong-hyeon's hand and dragged Seong-hyeon closer. The harder she braced against the pull, the deeper the sickle gouged into her shoulder. Seong-hyeon shaped fresh paper with her free hand and sent it slicing outward. The razor-edged sheets carved into Jeong-hyeon's flesh—but Jeong-hyeon sealed the gash in an instant, leaving only a smear of Black Water behind, and grinned.

Jeong-hyeon: She handed over a few 파생품 (Pasaeng-pum_Derived Relic) she'd been storing at her estate. Jeong-hyeon forged a second sickle and moved to take Seong-hyeon's head. In that instant, 적사(Jeok-sa_Red Thread) billowed in from every direction, shearing both sickles clean off. Jeong-hyeon, locked in combat with Seong-hyeon, was dragged out helplessly by the Red Thread that had poured in from outside. White paper tore apart as Jeong-hyeon tumbled through the opening.

In her place, a small fortune pouch rolled inward. Seong-hyeon spotted it, did not hesitate, pulled out the 잿가루(Jaet-garu_Grey Ash) inside, and pressed it over her wound. The effect of the Ash, used for the first time in her life, arrived with excruciating pain. The wound sealed in moments, but every last ounce of agony that would have accompanied the healing crashed down on her at once. Gripping her shoulder, drenched in cold sweat, Seong-hyeon fixed her eyes on the outside where Jeong-hyeon had been pulled.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. So-hui: Get lost. So-hui's terse warning hung in the air. Jeong-hyeon, her neck caught in So-hui's Red Thread, had looped 청사(Cheong-sa_Blue Thread) around both wrists and was hauling her collapsed body back upright with a stagger. The gaze from Jeong-hyeon's tall frame was sharp and cold. Jeong-hyeon looked at So-hui and spoke. Jeong-hyeon: A 안내자 (Annae-ja_Guide) — what's so impressive about that.

So-hui: You should at least understand you can't go toe-to-toe like this. You don't even rank. Know your place. Jeong-hyeon: Dead as I am, you can't even see my path — so keep that mouth of yours shut. So-hui: Not being able to see the dead doesn't mean I can't see the living's path. Jeong-hyeon glanced back at her younger sister behind her. Jeong-hyeon: Ah. I see. Jeong-hyeon, hatred blade-sharp in her eyes, slowly closed them.

She exhaled a light sigh, and when her eyes reopened, the deep hatred still sat in them—but not the will to keep fighting. Jeong-hyeon dissolved both sickles back into Black Water. Once the sickles were gone, she slid her hands into her pockets and turned on her heel. Jeong-hyeon: I'll be back soon. Today, I only meant to take Kang Ji-young. Since that didn't work out. So-hui: Whatever you do — you won't accomplish a thing. At So-hui's warning, Jeong-hyeon paused her retreating steps and glanced back.

Jeong-hyeon: Big talk. Scene 19. Su-jeong closed the distance in an instant. Si-yeon kept the blade trained on her and stood still, meeting Su-jeong head-on as she arrived. It was not a failure to react. There was simply no need. Su-jeong had reached point-blank range, yet she could do nothing. The nerve would not come. Si-yeon: If you want to shatter like this, say the word. I'll shatter you anytime. Just don't run. I'm too tired to chase. Su-jeong: I'll make you regret it. All of you bitches.

Si-yeon: Regret is what pathetic pieces of shit like you do. Fury erupted in Su-jeong and she finally drove her hand forward, raising Black Water to slash at Si-yeon's throat. Si-yeon adjusted the blade she had been holding forward and, in one fluid sweep, severed Su-jeong's wrist, elbow, and shoulder clean through. Black Water erupted from the wounds, sculpting itself into a grotesque maw. Su-jeong wrapped Si-yeon's face in Black Water and tried to crush the defiant smirk off it.

She moved to slam Si-yeon into the living room wall, but Si-yeon carved the rest of Su-jeong apart—head, torso, hands, arms—blade reducing everything to pieces. Every fragment splashed to the living room floor like spilled ink. Si-yeon seized Su-jeong's face with her own bare hand and drove the back of Su-jeong's skull into the wide living room floor. Su-jeong's head burst apart in a spray of Black Water and shattered to nothing. Su-jeong reverted entirely to Black Water and vanished.

At the disappearance of Su-jeong—who had, once again, fled—Si-yeon rose to her feet and allowed herself a contemptuous smile. Si-yeon: Ha, SSibal. What a pathetic, worthless bitch. Si-yeon shook off the Black Water and caught sight of 적사(Jeok-sa_Red Thread) drifting in through the broken window. She stepped over the shattered living room glass with an easy vault and watched the Red Thread slow to a halt. So-hui's movements had drawn eight trigrams onto the ground.

The slowing motion reversed, running backward, turning back the time of the immediate area. Scene 20. Lying on the sofa, Si-yeon reeked of alcohol. 청사(Cheong-sa_Blue Thread) rested along her forehead and temples. So-hui, sitting quietly on the floor beside the sofa, wore an expression of apology as she gathered back every strand of thread she had draped over the sleeping Si-yeon. She rose, then carefully wrapped the deeply sleeping Si-yeon in a gentle embrace. So-hui: I'm sorry, sis. Just hold on a little longer.

Soon — everything will fall back into place. Scene 21. Seong-hyeon's cheek was flushed red from a hard slap. She left the sting where it was and faced Si-yeon's anger in silence. Tears stood in for her endurance. It was a grief and a sorrow that could not find its voice, so it only looked like stoic composure from the outside. Si-yeon, having delivered that single strike, gently pulled the crying Seong-hyeon into her arms. The anger had not entirely gone. But venting it at Seong-hyeon would not undo the past.

Si-yeon held Seong-hyeon without a word, comforting her as she wept bitterly. Si-yeon: Stop crying. You stupid SSibal bitch. Seong-hyeon: I'm the one who killed you, sis. I didn't even know — not a single thing about how you'd been living. Si-yeon: That's what I'm saying — why'd you hang around with a bastard like that. Seong-hyeon: Because he told me he'd reinstate me someday if I did. Si-yeon: So that's why you killed me? The afternoon sun sat well past noon, draping the wide parking lot in a yellowing light.

Seong-hyeon, who had fought to the end on bare feet. The blood that had run from Seong-hyeon's once-delicate feet had dried without a trace. Not a wound or bloodstain remained. Seong-hyeon clung to Si-yeon like a child, weeping without restraint. She knew better than anyone that sorry was not enough. The word itself would not even come. Every apology she had hoarded, every long stretch of self-blame, was detonating now as pure grief. Seong-hyeon: I didn't know, sis. I really — didn't know you'd die.

Si-yeon: It did hurt. The first time I died. And when I found out you were the one who moved all that money — I really, truly hated you. Seong-hyeon: I'm sorry. I really didn't know. Si-yeon: If you're really sorry — Si-yeon released the embrace and simply watched Seong-hyeon. With the same fair, delicate hands as before, she wiped Seong-hyeon's tears first. Si-yeon's touch was far colder than it used to be, but far more tender. Si-yeon: The sis inside — our sis. Protect her to the very end.

There's not much time left, so just for what little time remains. Seong-hyeon: I will. They said she's The Oldest. I'm going to make a good impression too, so I can go back for sure. So don't worry. Si-yeon: SSibal bitch, then and now, watching you scramble to save your own skin — still makes me sick. At Si-yeon's insincere jab, Seong-hyeon crumpled her face again and burst into tears. She buried herself against Si-yeon like a child, sobbing aloud. Seong-hyeon: I'm sorry. Si-yeon sis. I really, truly am sorry.

Scene 22. A splitting headache crashed in. She could not even remember how much she had drunk. Si-yeon could barely turn over on the sofa, managing only to roll onto her side. Thirst hit next. She slid off the sofa in a half-crawl, stretched one long arm, and grabbed the water bottle on the floor. Water spilling past her lips, she gulped desperately to kill the thirst. Eyes refusing to open properly, she squinted and tried to piece together how she had gotten home.

Seong-hyeon, who had brought her back dead-drunk, surfaced first. Si-yeon raked her fingers through tangled hair, pulled the phone from her pocket, and called Seong-hyeon. Outside, the light was turning to a reddish dusk. Before long, Seong-hyeon's sleep-heavy voice answered. Seong-hyeon: Ah, what. Si-yeon: Hey. How did I get home. Seong-hyeon: How do you think. You crawled. I thought you were gonna die. Si-yeon: Ah, SSibal. Nothing happened? I can't remember a thing.

Bits of drinking here and there, but the whole day's a blank. What the hell did I even drink. Seong-hyeon: You were pouring whiskey straight. Having the time of your life, then we took a cab. Si-yeon: Really? What was that about. Did I get a fat bonus or something. Seong-hyeon: How would I know your clients. Si-yeon pursed her lips at the half-asleep grumbling and swallowed a curse. Out of nowhere, a strange noise gurgled from Si-yeon's stomach. She barked at Seong-hyeon. Si-yeon: Hey. Seong-hyeon: What.

Si-yeon: Did you eat? Seong-hyeon: I've gotta head out soon — what food. Food can wait. Si-yeon: Still, I'm starving. Get here early. Let's at least get hangover soup. I think I still reek of booze. Seong-hyeon: Ah, seriously. Such a pain in the ass. Si-yeon did not bother listening to the rest of the complaint. She shut the phone and crammed it back into her pocket, then hauled herself up from the couch and faced the large mirror in the living room. Having slept with her makeup still on, she looked haggard.

She managed a squinting inspection, scratched her head in irritation, and shuffled into the bathroom. Scene 23. A blank stare aimed at the ceiling. Everyone stood motionless, as though holding a frozen moment in time, the day's last slanting light behind them. A nondescript office—nothing glamorous, but well-equipped. Hee-jin straightened her clothes, crossed the room, opened the closed door, and stepped out.

After Hee-jin left, the three remaining figures in the room slowly lowered their gazes from the ceiling and exchanged brief, searching glances. The first to move was Song-hyeon, who had been standing before the desk chair. Dragging one leg in a limp, Song-hyeon addressed Hong-sin with a vacant stare. Song-hyeon: So — what the hell happened to my money?? Scene 24. Yu-seok sat in his car. Exhaustion was impossible to hide; he had reclined the seat and was trying to rest his eyes.

Hee-jin tapped lightly on his window, then let herself into the passenger seat without waiting for permission. Beyond the jeep, parked in an outdoor lot, the red evening light was burning bright as it faded, sinking deeper into dark. Even as the glow tilted further, Hee-jin said nothing, settling into the passenger seat with a light sigh. Yu-seok: Have you finished the whispers. Hee-jin shifted her gaze in silence toward the far side of the parking structure—across the lot, toward the lobby of an upscale hotel.

Yu-seok followed her line of sight. A van pulled up, loaded a limping woman and everyone around her, and sped away. Yu-seok: It seems faster than expected. Hee-jin: The 안내자 (Annae-ja_Guide) has made her move. She intends not to let this year pass. No — she has decided to proceed immediately. I merely acted in accordance with her will. Yu-seok nodded at Hee-jin's composed briefing. The pallor that had sat on Hee-jin's face that morning had settled into something more stable.

Hee-jin: Those people turned out to be far stupider than I expected. A little prodding and they came stumbling out, blind to everything. Yu-seok: Mm. Then — Hee-jin: A bit sooner than planned, 사무장 (Sa-mu-jang_Executive Secretary) — please begin preparing the second line. When the time comes, you may indulge your desire as much as you wish. Yu-seok: Does that include the Guide. Hee-jin paused to consider something. Hee-jin: Do you intend to pile her up like the stone in storage.

Yu-seok: If she refuses, then that is what I would have to do. She is not an easy existence to locate. Hee-jin smiled lightly and nodded. Hee-jin: Yes. Of course. But how would she evade you? There would be no way. Yu-seok: I'll think it over while I'm on the second line. Hee-jin nodded slowly. Hee-jin: They need to hit a wall before they feel their limits, and only when they feel those limits will they come crawling in. Just wait a little longer.

Hee-jin pulled her coat tighter, fastened her seatbelt, and sank deep into the seat. Eyes heavy with fatigue, she murmured to herself. Hee-jin: Sooner than I expected — but this, too, will be over soon.