Chương 61: S.04 Memory of the Clock 11(02)

Scene 04. Bursting through the black current, Ji-young finally fell to the ground. Her body, having pulled itself free of the black current laced with deep green, looked surprisingly intact. Barely out, Ji-young spat out green blood-water and tried to push herself upright — but standing before her listless gesture was 부패(Bu-pae_The Weeping of Putrefaction), who hammered her with a full-force punch.

The black water clinging to its fist and the blood-water in her mouth both burst out together, and Ji-young's body — past the point of holding on — collapsed to the ground. The Weeping of Putrefaction: All that lives. shall rot. Ji-young, who only now grasped what stood before her, struggled to rise from the ground, but The Weeping of Putrefaction would not let her up. As a presence shaped from a black current, it lifted what looked like a foot and pressed down firmly on Ji-young's slender throat.

When Ji-young moved to swing her arm again, The Weeping of Putrefaction summoned a black current and severed her wrist whole. A scream tried to climb out of Ji-young's throat, but no sound came easily from beneath the foot pinning her down. The bracelet that had wrapped her wrist fell limp to the floor. Ji-young's hand reformed in moments, but the bracelet was no longer there. Ji-young clutched at The Weeping of Putrefaction's foot, struggling to throw it off, but her consciousness drifted further and further.

Her now-defenseless eyes turned black in an instant. Seizing The Weeping of Putrefaction's ankle and devouring it whole, Ji-young then tore off the remaining leg of the staggering Weeping with her hand. The Weeping of Putrefaction collapsed to the ground in a single instant, and Ji-young — eyes black — slowly lifted her body and looked down at it. Ji-young (Harbinger): Crawling out like a worm. For a worthless creation. The Weeping of Putrefaction: We, must exist. Ji-young (Harbinger): Your existence — I define.

You will never stop me. And I will open the gate. As the curse I have been given dictates, I will shape the world with death. The end of the false cycle will at last be achieved. You cannot stop a thing. The Weeping of Putrefaction: We will, stop the human. The Weeping of Putrefaction summoned black water on the spot in an instant and vanished. Having faced The Weeping of Putrefaction for the first time, Ji-young registered that its trace was gone, then moved her stilled steps and picked up her bracelet.

After slipping the black bracelet onto her wrist, Ji-young's eyes returned to their original form. Ji-young dropped her spent body to the ground. Ji-young: Ha …. SSibal. Now even some grimy little scrap is crawling up to me. After scanning the traces of death scattered all around, she pushed herself up again with effort.

Wringing out what strength remained, Ji-young undid her bracelet once more and lashed the Black Wire across the ground to draw a 괘(Gwae_Divinatory Trigram), then carried into a 터벌림(Teo-beol-lim_Ground-Sweeping Finale). Black light fell across the ground. To wind the time back as far as she had registered it, Ji-young plucked the wire. The black light, reversed, faded in the order of the trigram, distorting the time around her. Ji-young's clothes were intact. The car had returned, also intact.

Apart from a rotted tree branch, every shape had been spun back into a distorted form. Ji-young walked silently to the car and laid her body lightly across the driver's seat. The phone in her pocket rang. Through the speakers connected to the car, I-seon's frantic voice came through. I-seon: The Oldest!! Are you all right!! Ji-young: No. Call me a designated driver.

Just before her consciousness slipped, she caught sight of a car racing toward her, and only then — as if relieved — she let her drained body fall sideways across the passenger seat. I-seon and Chae-rim, who had jumped out of the car, ran over and propped Ji-young up. Scene 05. I-seon's voice — speaking with someone on the phone — drifted in from beyond the courtyard. Ji-young, who had briefly lost consciousness, opened her eyes and stretched her stiff body to its full length.

At the sound of Ji-young bolting upright on the 보료(Bo-ryo_cushioned mat), I-seon — who had been on the call outside — came in and carefully helped her settle. I-seon: The Oldest. Your body. Ji-young rubbed her own shoulder, kneading it, then swung her arm in every direction to test it. Pursing her lips and giving a nod, Ji-young answered I-seon as if it were nothing. Ji-young: Hm, doesn't seem like there's anything off.

Ji-young scratched at the back of her head with a sheepish look and held back any further comment. I-seon: As it happens, the Deputies who'd been observing the black 자격루 (Ja-gyeong-nu_The Water Clock) reported that something strange had taken place nearby. Once we got word that the time-rewinding had occurred not far from us, we rushed out — thank goodness we did, otherwise things could have turned truly disastrous. Ji-young: Eh, the bastard was just a piece of trash.

I-seon: We're able to trace the path of rewound time. The Director of the Library confirmed personally that what you faced was no ordinary death. Ji-young pulled a slightly sour face and scratched at the back of her neck again. I-seon: Your stomach was punched through and your wrist was severed — there's no way it was a piece of trash. Ji-young, looking awkward, examined the wrist that had been cut for a moment.

There was no trace left on it whatsoever, but as if having gone over the entire situation, I-seon asked Ji-young in a heavy voice. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. I-seon: Might I ask, what was it that you faced. Ji-young: Looked like 부패 (Bu-pae_The Weeping of Putrefaction). Well, naturally one of The Envoy's Legion. I-seon: Hm. With The Weeping of Contrition still not having retreated, I hadn't expected The Weeping of Putrefaction to step out as well.

Ji-young: The first crisis I've gone through during my term — it isn't actually over. We've only patched it up and caught our breath. I-seon: Yes. That's how I heard it. Ji-young: Well, since this isn't going to play out inside Headquarters, just have everyone keep their guard up carefully. I-seon: Understood. Ji-young: Hold off on it until I receive the Masters of the Province. I-seon: Of course. We've finished preparing exactly as you instructed.

Hearing I-seon's brief reply, Ji-young peered around the room and let out a sulky little complaint. Ji-young: Ah-ni, by the way. Why hasn't the Strategist arrived? I thought she said she'd be here yesterday afternoon. I-seon: Ah, that. The Strategist is already here. Last night. But, the thing is. Ji-young: "But"?

I-seon: Last night, by mistake — Gyeong-seo, the, that — Gyeong-seo, the tonic she'd given her some time ago, mistook it for the hangover drink she'd received from the Infirmary and downed it, so — As if a headache were already setting in, Ji-young clamped her left hand over her forehead and let out a deep sigh. I-seon: The Infirmary, the — Ji-young: Aigoo, can't very well tell them to throw it all out, either. Ji-young sprang to her feet from her seat. I-seon hurriedly stood and followed Ji-young.

Loosely fastening clothes that bore not a single bloodstain, Ji-young grabbed her coat off the rack again. Tucking her long hair into place, Ji-young stepped out with steady, unhurried strides. Chae-rim was waiting beside the 댓돌(Dat-dol_Stepping stone), where she had set out Ji-young's running shoes. Chae-rim: Where will you be heading. Ji-young: Still — when an officer's saying she's unwell, I should at least go and check on her.

Sliding her feet roughly into the running shoes, Ji-young thrust her hand into her coat pocket and carried on with her remaining steps. I-seon and Chae-rim followed after Ji-young. Scene 06. It was a dry day. Approaching noon, the long corridor — unlike the dead of night — held a vacant, near-eerie hush, without a single trace of presence. Su-jeong cut across the corridor that was hushed past the point of mere quiet, all the way to her room.

As Su-jeong opened the door and stepped inside, her eyes met with a room flooded with viscous, clinging black water. With a face that registered no surprise, Su-jeong shut the door behind her and stepped in. She crossed to the vanity chair untouched by the water, settled into it, and spoke in a calm voice. The room was overflowing only with the black water, oozing as it spread. At the sound of Su-jeong's voice, the black current touched her foot and conveyed its meaning. Su-jeong: Did you leave a trace.

The Weeping of Putrefaction: I did. Su-jeong: You came up rather quickly. Was it that urgent. The Weeping of Putrefaction: It must be stopped as soon as possible. Su-jeong: I, too, used to think that way — and I cannot count how many times I was broken apart for it. The Weeping of Putrefaction: Only your role remains. Su-jeong: Don't worry. The talk has already ended. The musty stench gradually thinned. The black current that had filled the room began to recede with a slow, viscous movement.

There was no way out, but in moments the black current vanished without trace. Su-jeong lifted herself from the vanity chair. Looking at the black water that had not left a single trace or fragment, Su-jeong frowned slightly and threw open the glass window of her room as wide as it would go. Scene 07. A fairly large gathering had assembled in the main hall of The Black Doctrine.

In what looked to be a wide auditorium, congregants packed the space to the brim, listening to the dignified voice of the Bishop seated upon the dais. It was less a worship service than a time of teaching. The Bishop, as ever, was conveying — as knowledge — the misunderstandings about death and the proper understanding of it. It was not faith. It was not blind belief in an absolute being but something closer to education, grounded in teaching.

Pointing to the black writing inscribed on a large cloth set upon the dais, the Bishop sent her voice ringing through the wide auditorium. Bishop: And so, all that now remains to you is the trace of the Envoy. With that trace, you postpone death for a while, and so are able to extend your stay in 이승 (I-seung_the world of the living). Within the auditorium were upward of six hundred congregants. Long benches had been laid out in seven parallel rows, each row seating its own trace.

Bishop: We do not treat death as taboo. It is the proper order, one to be received, and one that must be feared. Only those who have transgressed the proper order are capable of fearing it. Our purpose was to achieve that which must be achieved, even through transgressing the proper order. And, as you all know, our purpose now resides not far away. It rests before us — not far in time. The Bishop's voice was not loud.

But through the black water that filled the auditorium floor enough to ripple, the Bishop's intent was being conveyed to all present. Bishop: Achieve it. Stop those who pursue what would distort the cycle, and bring about a world in which the proper order is taken for granted. The Black Doctrine: Yes.

As the Bishop closed her measured voice, the black current that had been streaming from the black 운혜(Unhye_Everyday traditional shoes) of First Steward Jeong-seon — who sat in the very front row — broke off and ceased. With the black current sinking back into the dark wooden floor in an instant, every congregant who had been seated rose and offered a deep bow to the Bishop. The teaching was a familiar one, and so all the congregants left the auditorium in orderly steps, emptying the once-packed hall in moments.

The Bishop watched everyone for a beat, let out a small sigh, and stepped down from the dais. Only the eight Stewards remained, bowing their bodies to the Bishop who had finished her lecture. Lee Yeon: Bishop. At the Seventh Steward Lee Yeon's low voice, the Bishop turned her gaze to her for a moment. Bishop: Speak, Seventh Steward. Lee Yeon: As you instructed, the schedule has been arranged. Bishop: Well done.

Jeong-seon, seeing for the first time Lee Yeon's hesitating manner, was reading the looks between the Bishop and Lee Yeon without a word. The Bishop made nothing of Lee Yeon's hesitation and carried on with her remaining steps. Bishop: First Steward. Jeong-seon: Yes, Bishop. Bishop: That fellow, Driver Lim — where might he be. Jeong-seon: He returned this morning. Bishop: Good. Then I have a small request to make of him, so do tell him to come to my chamber. Jeong-seon: Yes. Understood.

Bishop: The remaining Stewards, see to your own duties. Every Steward apart from Lee Yeon swiftly took their leave. While Jeong-seon went to fetch Driver Lim, only Lee Yeon and the Bishop remained in the auditorium. Bishop: It is still all right, so do not carry on like this. Lee Yeon, head bowed, was simply listening in silence. Bishop: You — surely you understand the meaning of what I said today. Lee Yeon: Yes. Lee Yeon's voice was thoroughly weighed down.

The Bishop, without further word, nodded slowly and began moving her steps once more. Lee Yeon, dragging steps that would barely lift, followed the Bishop. Bishop: I have made the request to the Envoy, so there will be no trouble. Lee Yeon: Bishop. Why did you refuse it to the very end. Why, only to us — Bishop: Because I resolved not to be afraid. Lee Yeon: But the First Steward is still — Bishop: She, too, must be in disarray. She'll need time to set things right and to gather herself.

But my time has stretched on for far too long. The child who called me 언니 (Eonni_older sister) — the child who toddled after me from her earliest years — taught me a great many things, and so the time has come for me to repay the answers to her teachings. The Bishop, with steps suddenly unburdened, came to a halt at the auditorium entrance and spoke quietly to Lee Yeon, who could not bring herself to lift her head. Bishop: It will be no more than a small examination.

Think of it as a chance to prove the lessons we have studied. The Bishop smiled brightly and stroked Lee Yeon's arm as if comforting her. Taking Lee Yeon's hand, the Bishop smiled and consoled her. Bishop: Far in the years to come — when all this has ended — there will surely come a day when you, too, will follow at last, even belatedly, the proper order that has been twisted out of place. So do not grieve too deeply.