Chương 75: S.05 Time to Fly 01(03)

Scene 03. Ji-young, who had wrapped up the call, stared blankly at the far edge of the wooden floor for a moment. Tucking her phone into her 저고리(Jeogori_Korean Traditional inner jacket) pocket with the same dazed gaze, Ji-young belatedly noticed Hee-jin in front of her and turned her head to look at Hee-jin, who was standing on the 댓돌(Dat-dol_Stepping stone). In Hee-jin's hands was a stack of documents. Ji-young: Aigoo, Omo.

As Ji-young hurriedly rose to help with Hee-jin's hands, Hee-jin — who had been watching Ji-young quietly — declined Ji-young's help in haste, as though her intent had never been to ask for it, and slipped off her 운혜(Unhye_Everyday traditional shoes) on the Stepping stone and stepped up onto the wooden floor. The thick hem of her 두루마기(Durumagi_Traditional outer coat) fluttered. Recalling Ji-young's dazed look earlier, Hee-jin asked Ji-young in a probing tone. Hee-jin: Did something happen?

Ji-young twitched her lips for a moment and shook her head lightly. Hee-jin: The Oldest. For now, please go inside. The weather is still rather cold. Ji-young, still standing as she had risen, looked plainly down at her own clothes. The room had been intensely hot, so Ji-young had rolled her sleeves all the way up. Hee-jin observed Ji-young's state alongside her, but Hee-jin did not bother to give an answer, and with only a small cough left behind, strode briskly into Ji-young's quarters first.

Ji-young, following the steps she had begun, entered her own quarters. Seating her body upon the cushioned mat, Ji-young pulled the folding table back in front of her and received the documents Hee-jin had carried in like a small mountain. Ji-young, having put on the glasses left on the folding table, began silently examining the stack of documents Hee-jin had handed over.

Hee-jin: The year-end settlement has, fortunately, been wrapped up, but along with the quarterly accounting papers, the audit results that the Inspectorate and the East jointly conducted on a portion of the local petty-tyrant powers came in today. The only place that remains is — Ji-young: Well, the Northwest. At Ji-young's listless confirmation, Hee-jin smiled faintly and nodded.

Ji-young, with the pen in her hand, scratched vigorously through the hair she had bound neatly and adorned with ornaments, and began unrolling the documents Hee-jin had brought, one by one. Without taking her eyes from the papers, Hee-jin asked Ji-young in a probing tone. Hee-jin: The Oldest. Ji-young at last lifted her head briefly and looked at Hee-jin. Hee-jin: The two of them — may I ask why they are still kept outside?

As Ji-young hesitated, as though unsure where to begin in resolving Hee-jin's curiosity, Hee-jin saw the look of difficulty on Ji-young and tried hurriedly to withdraw her question. As Hee-jin faltered, trying to shift the topic, Ji-young handed over a question of her own that bore upon her answer. Ji-young: Would you come with me, soon? Hee-jin: What? Ji-young: To Su-hyang District.... Ji-young's question and her answer carried within them a great deal.

Even as a koan-like exchange, it was something Hee-jin could not fail to understand, so she remained silent for a moment, having heard answer enough, and only let her thoughts run on. Hee-jin: I'm sorry. I still don't know yet. Myself. It was Hee-jin's firm yet hesitant answer. The apology was firm, but the decision was not. Ji-young smiled without a word and nodded. Hee-jin: As you well know, The Oldest, I am a hopeless case at directions.

It is a disability acquired when, in the very first cataclysm in which you — when you, as a child, saved me, when the Former The Oldest saved me — I was plundered and beaten by them, and one of my ears has not heard properly since. And so I take my bearings poorly. Even getting a driver's license was barely managed. Hee-jin offered a recollection that was flat yet faintly smiling, as though murmuring. Ji-young continued to watch Hee-jin without saying a word.

Hee-jin: A month ago, when I received the call directly from the Bishop, I could not deliver a single word in reply. That the knot left so deep within me will not vanish — that, I believe, you too well know. And so, to readily — If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Ji-young: It's not an order. Or a demand. Or a request, either. Hee-jin: But if it is a place where you, The Oldest, would be in danger — then I shall go anywhere. I shall be there, without fail.

At Hee-jin's resolute conviction, Ji-young smiled broadly and nodded. In a half-teasing voice, she ribbed Hee-jin. Ji-young: You know that, right? You being seriously, honestly scary, in a way. At Ji-young's ribbing, Hee-jin smiled a touch more brightly and nodded. Hee-jin: Sometimes I do wonder. Ji-young waited for Hee-jin's words while looking through the documents again.

Hee-jin: How both the Former The Oldest and the Kang Ji-young who is The Oldest before me now — knowing in full every oppression and persecution that has come, or will come, and the long course of trials that must follow thereafter — could remain so flat about it all. At Hee-jin's careful question and reverence, Ji-young, eyes still on the papers, gave a small smile and answered. Ji-young: Because in the end, we won't lose. Not me, not my younger sisters. Not anyone here. Even if I die, I'll stop it.

Like my mother did. At Ji-young's passing yet firm certainty and resolve, and the deep grief beneath them, Hee-jin could not bring herself to continue her words. After a brief silence, Hee-jin delivered her own steady voice without difficulty. Hee-jin: I shall not repay the debt of my life in such a way. At Hee-jin's brittle-edged conviction, Ji-young carried a light smile and unfolded the next document.

As if struck by a sudden realization, Ji-young raised the belated thought to confirm it, and asked Hee-jin, who sat before her. Ji-young: Now that I think about it — that's probably why you placed the Northwest audit at the very end. Hee-jin did not answer. Ji-young: Hmm. Well, it's probably better to hold one move back from each other, when thinking it through. Unfolding another document, Ji-young swiftly scanned through the contents of the scroll and entered her seal-signature of approval.

While remaining silent for a moment, Hee-jin organized the documents whose approvals had finished and belatedly continued. Hee-jin: It is not entirely so, but — there was a request. At Hee-jin's quiet voice, Ji-young, with only one person in mind, ranted to herself with a sneer. Ji-young: Honestly, what a clingy fucking pest he is. Hee-jin: As I have said, corruption is something quite different from self-reproach. Ji-young: About a month back, when she came barging out and hit me out of nowhere, I felt it.

Ah, that bitch isn't fucking listening, period. That's what I felt. Ji-young flatly examined the documents, recorded the points of fault, and set the papers to be returned aside. Ji-young: At Kwon Su-jeong's end too, that corruption or whatever it was looked just like some seriously obsessive clingy ex-boyfriend, so I'd already braced myself for it being quite something else. At Ji-young's ribbing and profanity, Hee-jin answered with a smile on her lips.

Hee-jin: Would there be a member of the Envoy's Legion without obsession? Ji-young: Ah, miserable little pricks. I mean, the people who die and come back after a stretch under such things' watch — what crime is theirs? Hee-jin: As for the watch — by the records, it consists of little more than opening a small gate beforehand to keep great flooding from occurring. We find that small gate and close it.

According to the nature of the dead being, or its circumstance, the existences of the remaining seven of the Envoy's Legion — excluding 형벌 (Hyeong-beol_The Weeping of Retribution) — are bound by the cycle of the Harbinger's arrival, yet they cannot step outside the will or phenomenon of the dead. Ji-young: Well, since we haven't actually died ourselves, there's no way of knowing properly. Hee-jin: But that — The Oldest, you.... Ji-young rapidly cut down the stack of documents.

The mountain that had piled up was already nearly halved. Hee-jin too was precisely separating those to be returned from those that had been approved. Ji-young: Of course, I did die — but I died only enough that So-hui couldn't see, so as you know, when I'm wounded, blood comes out the same as before. I only half-died, they say. Because I came back without crossing the 삼도천 (Samdo-cheon_River of the Dead). I have no memory of it, either. I don't even know what it looks like.

I only ever went there for the first time in battle. Hee-jin: That is perhaps why the Envoy's Legion fears it all the more. Ji-young: Well, that's because they can't take a life directly themselves, can they. They can only mete out retribution, you said. Hee-jin: So it is told. Mid-organizing the documents, Ji-young's signing hand paused at the thought that suddenly came to her.

Ji-young's expression hardened for a moment, and with eyes full of suspicion as though to ask something, she stared, almost vacantly, at Hee-jin seated before her. Hee-jin did not avoid Ji-young's gaze. With nothing on her face but a faint smile, leaving no particular reply or word behind, Hee-jin only quietly went on organizing the documents that Ji-young had signed and handed back over. Scene 04. Jeong-seon: Ah!! Seriously!! Mom!! How are you gonna cook anything through with the heat that weak!!

There was no way the showering rebukes were going to be borne in silence. Hyang-rim: YAH! You know more than the YouTube chef do you?! Huh?! She said to cook at this temperature, you know?? The sound of something tasty cooking through was clearly carrying from beyond the 창호지(Changhoji_Traditional paper-paneled door), but it was quickly swallowed beneath the spilling torrent of Jeong-seon's rebukes.

Driver Lim, who was waiting for the back-and-forth carrying out from inside the Traditional paper-paneled door, was setting down empty plates and bowls in a tidying motion. With a sheepish expression, as though at a loss as to what to do about the everyday squabble drifting out from within, Driver Lim glanced sidelong at Lee Yeon, who had been helping with his task. Lee Yeon twitched her lips and shook her head. It meant that nothing at all needed to be done.

The moment Lee Yeon's intent was conveyed, the Traditional paper-paneled door, which appeared to be the kitchen door, slid open, and a large platter of roast duck — held in Jeong-seon's hands — came out. Jeong-seon, stepping carefully so as not to spill it, set the platter heaped generously with duck meat onto the wide table of the broad dining room. As Jeong-seon scurried back into the kitchen to bring out another dish of meat, Hyang-rim, who had been facing the fire while cooking, emerged sweating.

Into the broad dining room, the Stewards of the Black Doctrine stepped in. Bishop: You've arrived just in time. As though it had been some time since they had seen the Bishop sweating, every Steward of the Black Doctrine who had entered stood awkwardly. Hye-rim: Bishop. Why, so much, sweat... At Hye-rim's careful, puzzled question, Hyang-rim shook her head, as though it were nothing at all. Bishop: You have all looked into the lodgings at the regional branch halls, I take it? Jong-hye: Yes.

As you instructed, we have settled on places for an extended stay, so that we may keep watch on the regional branches and audit their internal doctrine. Bishop: Since you'll be out for a while, I thought I'd treat all of you to food I made myself. Now, everyone sit. Jeong-seon will bring out the rest. Save the reports for after we've eaten. At the Bishop's urging, every Steward of the Black Doctrine glanced at each other and seated themselves silently in the empty places.

As Lee Yeon turned toward the kitchen to bring out the meat that would by then be finished cooking, Jeong-seon's whining drifted out from within. Jeong-seon: Ah! See!! Mom!! Everyone's here!! The meat's still not done cooking!!