Chương 67: S.04 Memory of the Clock 12(02)_The LAST of S.04

Scene 04. It was deep night. Year's end, one day before the final day. The fierce sunset had vanished quickly, and only a dim sky now remained. Today, Headquarters carried an air that felt particularly desolate. From within Ji-young's quarters, a faint blue glow of 인불(In-bul_Ghost Light) was leaking out. Ji-young, with a slightly stiff look, gave a long, full stretch. The five-butterfly ornament swayed in time with Ji-young's nodding gesture. After sweeping her two long arms back down, she let out a light breath.

Ji-young: Anyway, then, the work distribution between each office is now — Hee-jin: Yes. Without major friction, it has entered the handover and procedure-management phase. There were reports of mild disputes, but apart from that there were no cases of paperwork going missing or of complaints about work distribution that prevented the work from being done. Ji-young: Well, that's a relief. At the very least.

Hee-jin: Naturally, since the personnel count has been roughly halved, there were signs of confusion all around, but if anything they're adapting naturally to the streamlining process. Ji-young: I was also wondering if everyone might be having a hard time because of the abrupt orders. I-seon: We'll need to keep watching for now, but more often the opinion was that — since collaboration between the body-discipline practitioners and the sorcerers can now actually take place — it's improved.

Ji-young: Then, next year's year-end accounting and next year's first-half budget proposal are being executed separately by each office, right? Hee-jin: Yes. With the previous Director of the Treasury's embezzlement of mutual aid funds, parts of the operations ledger were altered, but the total discrepancy is estimated to be small. In line with that, the Director of the Library is precisely calculating the missing amount and plans to forward the revised figures to each office within this week.

The mutual aid funds tied to provincial divination fees have been benchmarked against the South Province and the East Province. If a missing amount is confirmed accordingly, an inspection of the provincial native-soil forces is planned to examine the cause. Ji-young: Anyway — the one who shits and the one who cleans up are always different people. Hee-jin and I-seon, after wrapping up their brief reports, watched with a light smile as Ji-young began to stretch fully again. Hee-jin: Are you tired. Ji-young: Ah.

I dealt with all sorts of strange bastards from this morning on, so I'm stiff. Hee-jin: Even so, if Gyeong-seo should happen to hand you anything, absolutely — I-seon: Absolutely do not consume it. Absolutely. The other day, I took something supposedly a "test sample," thinking it was protein supplement, and was honestly bedridden for a good three days. Ji-young scrunched her face and shook her head. Ji-young: The Physician said the same thing. If anything, it makes me, how to put it. Curious, I guess?

"It piques my interest" — that would be the right phrasing. Hee-jin / I-seon: Absolutely. Do not consume it. Ji-young, fingering the collar-strip of her 저고리(Jeogori_Korean Traditional inner jacket), nodded with a smile rising on her lips. Ji-young: Ah, all right. Hee-jin and I-seon slowly rose from their seats. To the two who lightly bowed at the waist, Ji-young, still seated, also bowed her waist lightly. Hee-jin: Then, please rest. The Oldest. I-seon: We'll be heading in. Ji-young: Yes. Understood.

The two of you, please rest as well. To Hee-jin and I-seon's calm voices, Ji-young answered in a clear voice. As the door of Ji-young's quarters opened, the two stepped outside. After taking out their 운혜(Unhye_Everyday traditional shoes) onto the stepping stone and slipping them on with a few fumbling motions, they moved their steps and crossed beyond the courtyard. Ji-young pushed aside the folding low table set before her and rose from her seat with a faint sigh-tinged exclamation.

As she briefly checked the surface of the now-pushed-aside table, the upper edge of what appeared to be a small plastic pack — something Hee-jin seemed to have left behind — peeked out from beneath the documents. Ji-young, having risen, leaned over and grabbed the entire bundle of documents in one go, then headed toward the folding screen behind the cushioned mat to change clothes. The rustling sound came through.

As if she were tottering once or twice, the folding screen behind the cushioned mat shook for a moment. As if having forgotten something, Ji-young — still behind the screen and only with her ornaments removed, still half-changed — stepped out from behind the screen and brought her white socks across to the other side of the cushioned mat. Ji-young's stride, just about to head outside, came to an abrupt halt. Deep night.

Inside Ji-young's quarters, where she had been left alone, white slips of paper fluttered, and a 주식(Ju-sik_Incantation Guard) was set in place to keep any sound from leaking out. Onto the white socks, Ji-young's blood dripped down in a sudden patter. Ji-young's bowed-deep head slowly lifted, and she glared at a presence that had appeared before her.

Onto Ji-young's hand — which had hastily seized the hilt of the blade driven into her abdomen — a single strand of 금줄(Geum-jul_Ritual Taboo Rope to suppress power) was pressing against her. As Ji-young's knees lowered, the knees of the figure standing before her also gradually lowered. With one hand gripping Ji-young's slender throat with full force, the figure crushed her windpipe down so that not even her scream could leak outside.

Slowly lowering his knees to meet Ji-young's eye level, Seong-hyeon — biting his own lip and laden with a deep resolve — was lowering his head, as if he could not bear to meet Ji-young's eyes. At the corners of his mouth lingered words he had not been able to convey. Ji-young had not even time to scream. Unable to staunch the blood-water that came welling up out of her, she met Seong-hyeon's deep silence head-on. She was belatedly registering a black shadow drawn across the space behind Seong-hyeon.

Just as Ji-young was about to carry on with something, Su-jeong addressed Seong-hyeon curtly. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Su-jeong: That's enough, so go. As if she had committed something unspeakable, Su-jeong shoved aside Seong-hyeon — who could do nothing — and took his place herself. The blade Seong-hyeon had driven into Ji-young's belly twisted slightly at Su-jeong's rough motion.

Ji-young, as if straining to endure the horrific pain, scrunched her face and spilled blood from her mouth. Su-jeong, with a sneering expression, said in a low voice to Seong-hyeon, who lay sprawled on the floor. Su-jeong: Your boss is staying put over there. When I tell you to go, go. If you don't go now, I'll drag her along with you for all to see. Su-jeong, after grabbing the back of Ji-young's neck and pulling her in, sneered softly into Ji-young's ear.

Su-jeong: If you don't beg for their lives, then right in front of you, every one of them is going to die. To Su-jeong's calm, sneering humiliation, Ji-young — wearing a face contorted in pain — even layered a sneer of her own on top. Su-jeong: So beg. Beg me to spare your younger sisters — the ones who can do nothing because of you. Beg me. Promise to die in their place. Beg. Of me. After confirming the red blood of the silent, sneering Ji-young, Su-jeong let out a small sigh.

Beneath Su-jeong's feet, a black current burst upward, abandoning Seong-hyeon — left alone in Ji-young's quarters — and burying Ji-young and Su-jeong both, vanishing without trace. Scene 05. In the mountain ridges across from Headquarters, where it could be plainly seen below — at the mid-slope of another ridge with a river between them, a cold wind whipped through fiercely enough to bite. The hem of the thick 두루마기(Durumagi_Traditional outer coat) he was wearing fluttered.

There was no thought of straightening the set of his clothes. It was not that he could not feel the cold. It was simply that what occupied his mind was something else. The brightly draped Ghost Light was lighting up Headquarters, which sat fully across the opposite ridge. Behind a jeep, the sound of a car coming in was audible. Belatedly drawing his thick outer coat together, Yu-seok scrutinized the headlights pulling in from behind, squinting.

He looked at a single SUV that had cut across the narrow road — one that could only be entered with the high beams switched on. With his clothes neatly arranged, Yu-seok carefully moved his steps and approached the SUV that had driven in. After even the high beams were switched off, the motor noise that had rumbled for some time settled. Because all the lights had been turned off, Yu-seok's vision blurred briefly, but he carried a calm smile and drew both hands from his pockets.

With his hands clasped courteously in front of him, he stood waiting in stillness as if to greet whoever would step out of the car. Soon enough, the door opened carefully. Adjusting the collar of her coat, So-hui stepped out of her own car and met Yu-seok, who bowed courteously at the waist. Yu-seok: You've come. Guide. So-hui, with a tense expression, carefully accepted Yu-seok's greeting.

Giving a light nod of her own, So-hui — keeping one hand in her pocket against the cold while drawing the other out — briefly kept watch on her surroundings. Yu-seok: The 자시 (Ja-si_The Hour of the Rat, 11pm to 1am) has not yet come, but you've arrived early. So-hui: Because the only way for sis to be hurt a little less was for me to come early. Yu-seok: Hm. Then, by chance — may I ask, how far did you see. So-hui: As far as the will that succeeds at nothing. Yu-seok: That's because I resolved that it would be so.

Then — may I take it that you didn't see any further than that. So-hui: I don't want to drag this out. Yu-seok: But I have many things I'd like to ask. So-hui: It's a waste of time. Because I have no intention of answering anything. Yu-seok: Answering me would be best for everyone. You already know that. If you don't answer, only The Oldest will be made to suffer more. At Yu-seok's calm provocation, So-hui let out a light breath.

Reading the breath as her resolve to answer Yu-seok's questions, Yu-seok conveyed his question. Yu-seok: Truly — did you see beyond the end. So-hui: There is no end. So there's nothing to call "beyond." Yu-seok: How is it that you can be so certain. So-hui: Because I saw the children who carry on the next of all of us. And the next after that, and the one after that as well. Yu-seok: You should only have seen as far as the will of human beings, but how were you able to see so far down the road.

If you truly saw it that way — then the present Guide. What are you. So-hui did not speak. Yu-seok: Originally. The Guide can only conjecture about the lives that touch upon her own life. Death, she cannot see at all. But, drawing inferences from every circumstance that has unfolded — Guide. Each time So-hui exhaled, a long plume of white breath blew out. The weather was bitter. So-hui kept moving the one hand she had not put in her pocket, working to keep it from freezing. Yu-seok: Have you seen beyond death.

Was it perhaps that the eye that saw beyond was the eye of the Envoy that Si-yeon carries within her. So-hui slowly nodded. Yu-seok: You, the Guide, Jo So-hui. What are you. Having seen beyond the eye of an Envoy, how is it that you can remain alive and unscathed. Apart from being Yeon-hui's mirror — what kind of presence is the Guide, set in place as. So-hui: That, even if I wished to tell you, I cannot. Because, truly, I myself do not yet know. Yu-seok: Then.

Yu-seok began to slowly raise 검은 모래(Geomeun-morae_Black Sand) from his hand. Yu-seok: If I were to kill you, Guide, and turn it back — could you carry on with your sight of paths. Have you ever seen that. Did such a possibility exist. The possibility of my coming to possess the Guide, did it exist. So-hui slowly shook her head. The moonlight was not bright enough to make out the faint smile that lingered at the corners of So-hui's lips.

Yu-seok: Not some empty stone, but to be able to enshrine, eternally, an actual Guide as gifted as you — if that were possible, every matter could proceed smoothly. There would be no more wandering in search of candidates, and even pointless deaths could easily be prevented. From here on, all that would remain is to do away with the true Key. Honestly, having heard you out, the desire to make the Guide my own arises strongly. So-hui: But if I die, you'll gain nothing. I won't follow you of my own feet either.

And — you really are shameless. After making Yeon-hui sis end up in that state. You're saying you'll have me, who is Yeon-hui sis's mirror? No, fucking seriously …. You should at least say something that makes sense before I'd even bother listening …. Yu-seok: Are you afraid. So-hui: Where is the life in which dying isn't frightening. But, separately from that, please stop pestering me. You'd know full well …. that what I'm saying is the truth.

Yu-seok, having shaped the Black Sand, was holding it without driving it forward. After briefly swallowing back her words, So-hui composed her sneering voice. He decided to listen to what So-hui would say next. So-hui: The four butterflies shaping their wings, making it so that what had to be that way, becomes that way, and so life and death will flow on. If I die here and end up sitting around merely watching paths, then the sorrow-song Doseon left behind would in the end be made wrong.

Well, you wouldn't be able to achieve anything. You all who wish to perdure, all the more so. Whoever ends up being the one left alone after every path has failed will kill every other remaining presence. Even if that one is the Strategist, she would do the same. Yu-seok, letting the Black Sand ripple, paused for a moment in thought. Yu-seok: So such a path did exist after all. To Yu-seok's heavy voice, So-hui conveyed no reply.

Looking straight at the silent So-hui, Yu-seok — laden with deep thought — nodded as if in concession. Yu-seok: Truthfully, before this, I did not know. When I was confined to the East Province, that was when I came to find old texts and learn of it. The book of Doseon was, for some reason, in the hands of the Master of the East Province. Of course, looking back now, all of it seems to have been the path that the Former The Oldest had shaped. So-hui: Yes.

Yu-seok: First, I, too, will need to think of a method again. It seems I cannot simply commit a discourtesy upon the Guide without forethought. Yu-seok, after letting the Black Sand fade, clasped his two hands together once more and bowed his waist firmly to So-hui. Yu-seok: I ask that you accompany me. In such a cold place, I cannot even ask things properly. So-hui: And if I refuse. Yu-seok: You go to be taken anyway, knowing it full well — what reason for resistance, that's what I'm curious about.

So-hui: What reason do you have for being so certain that I would know. Yu-seok: Because, otherwise — A rustling sound came from between the underbrush. A few people began to emerge from within the dim wooded grove. So-hui clenched her back teeth tight. Yu-seok: You would not have handed The Oldest over so docilely. Ji-young, bleeding, was being dragged in by the hand of Yeong-min — who had become a puppet — bound by Ritual Taboo Rope. With each step, an excruciating pain made itself felt.

Ji-young's gait was twisted, lurching as if buckled. With the 삼베(Sam-bae_Hemp cloth) gagged into her mouth, Ji-young's voice could not properly leak out. Yu-seok: So, please — accompany me, just for a while. So-hui, who had begun raising a thin skein of 적사(Jeok-sa_Red Thread) at her fingertips, hesitated for a long while. As if having chosen at last not to resist, she gathered up the Red Thread that had begun to scatter, brushing it off, and gave a light nod to convey her intent to follow Yu-seok's will.

Yu-seok: What I'm to lead from here, and how the Guide will lead it as well — that, I am also curious about.