Chương 76: S.05 Time to Fly 01(04)

Scene 05. Feeling a chill creep over her, she bolted upright from the bed where she had been lying. Staring blankly at the bedding soaked through with cold sweat, Yeon-jin smoothed her hair and brushed her forehead. Bright light was forcing its way through the gap in the blackout curtain. It was far from enough to light the rather spacious modern bedroom, yet neither was it dark like the dead of night. Yeon-jin moved sluggishly and set her feet on the ground.

Having slept in comfortable undergarments, Yeon-jin placed her feet on the floor, rose from her seat, and threw open the blackout curtains. A great deal more bright light poured in. Wincing lightly, she opened the firmly shut window just a crack to begin venting the air. From the cigarette pack set on the vanity, she drew out the last cigarette inside, crumpled the wrapper, and tossed it into the wastebasket.

The long legs of Yeon-jin, who had opened the door and stepped out, were heading toward the living room when she sensed the presence of someone already there and froze on the threshold as though stuck. Letting out a light sigh, Yeon-jin walked toward the presence that had been lounging carelessly on the living room sofa. Facing the unwelcome guest, Yeon-jin, with a sullen expression, lit the cigarette held in her mouth. When she opened the wide window in the living room, a fairly spacious garden came into view.

The unwelcome guest, Seon-woo, was dozing with her arms folded on the sofa. Wincing at the light that flooded in, Seon-woo saw the unwelcoming look of Yeon-jin standing before her, then stretched briefly to shake off the doze. Seon-woo: Hey. Errand bitch. At Seon-woo's voice, still carrying a yawn within it, Yeon-jin returned a curt answer to Seon-woo. Yeon-jin: What. Seon-woo: Why is it that you lot are the only ones who haven't submitted the audit papers? Why make me come all this way myself?

You think the Northwest is, fucking, as close to the East as some neighborhood brat's playground? Yeon-jin: I sent all the papers. Seon-woo: Ah, Seon-woo picked up a single document she had crumpled and stuffed at her waistband, plucking it between her fingers, and waved it about teasingly. Seon-woo: This? Couldn't even wipe my shit with it. Maybe because it's paper from the rich Northwest, it's fucking stiff as hell. Wouldn't this rip my asshole if I tried to wipe with it?

Letting out a large sigh, Yeon-jin plopped herself down on the living room floor. Pulling over the ashtray set on the sofa-side table, she dealt with the long ash that had been burning between her fingers. With the corner of her mouth twitching, Yeon-jin asked Seon-woo. Yeon-jin: So, you graced me with a visit just to receive those terribly important papers? All this way?

Seon-woo: Every other province has had their audits and exercised some measure of self-governance to elect their next Master of the Province, and only you, fucking, no audit, won't yield the seat, huh? Yeon-jin: Why am I the one who has to step down. Seon-woo: What do you mean why. Wouldn't someone who ran errands for that bastard need to step down quietly? Yeon-jin: Did I make an attempt on your The Oldest's life, or did I drag up the dead?

Other bitches did all of that, and yet I'm the one who's being raked over the coals? Don't quite get it. Seeing Yeon-jin's "nothing of any great consequence" reaction, not far from what she had expected, Seon-woo pursed her lips and nodded. Seon-woo: Then the reason I beat the absolute shit out of you that day was — what, just because you fucking pissed me off? Yeon-jin: Well I wouldn't know that, would I. The reason for beating someone — well. The one being beaten wouldn't know. The one who did the beating would.

Seon-woo: Oh, yeah. You know your stuff. I had a fucking reason to beat the shit out of you, that's why I did. A matter that warranted killing was, on someone's appeal, only spared down to a goddamn beating. Yeon-jin: But that was about the Former Executive Secretary, wasn't it? Seon-woo: You too. Yeon-jin paused her words for a moment and belatedly placed the cigarette ash that had burned all the way down into the ashtray. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Seon-woo: The Oldest asked us not to take your life, either. Yeon-jin: Why? What, is there some fucking sexual favor history between us? I never tumbled with our lordly The Oldest, never — Before Yeon-jin's eyes, a pointed grey sand instantly materialized. Yeon-jin's words could go no further. Seon-woo: Shut up and listen. Tone down the snark. Yeon-jin, at Seon-woo's chilling threat, gave no particular reply and only stared quietly at Seon-woo.

Seon-woo: Your life — those whom such a creature as you have wronged over the years will be the ones to take it. And that, she said, must not be herself, nor anyone else, but Lee Si-yeon. Said that those with stories left and stories to give ought to settle it among themselves. That having another's hand land on you first would weigh on Si-yeon's mind, so we ought to hold back. That was the appeal she made. Yeon-jin belatedly swallowed dry, then lifted the corner of her mouth and looked at Seon-woo. Seon-woo: Ah!

Of course, an eyeball or two, I can take with me though, Seon-woo dissolved the 회색 모래(Hoesaek-morae_Grey Sand) she had shaped and crossed her arms again, sinking into the sofa. Seon-woo: What the hell would I do with your eyeballs anyway. Not like I'm gonna make eyeball candy out of them. Right? Yeon-jin: Indeed. Seon-woo: So, while I'm being nice, hand over the papers. The papers compiled for the audit. The accounting documents. The financial statements, the whole fucking lot.

Yeon-jin: Want to talk with our lawyer? There's a bastard dedicated to that ass-wiping job — Before Yeon-jin's words could continue, Seon-woo — who had sunk her body into the sofa — pushed off the armrest and hurled herself, kicking Yeon-jin in the face. Yeon-jin tumbled limply backward, scattering blood across the floor. The speed of Seon-woo's charge was not at a level Yeon-jin could have quickly readied herself to meet.

Standing tall in place, Seon-woo stepped on the knee of Yeon-jin, who had tumbled into a corner against the wall, and slowly began to press in with force, threatening Yeon-jin. With the cracking sound of kneecap bones, Yeon-jin grimaced. Hurriedly seizing Seon-woo's foot and ankle with both hands, she tried to keep her knee from being damaged further, but by Seon-woo's will lay only the difference between broken and not broken — Yeon-jin's gestures meant little.

Seon-woo: Even if you and your top dog came at me together, all at once, you're no match for me. I'm not some dancing girl prancing about, you know. At Seon-woo's high-handed sneer, Yeon-jin carried a sneering smile of her own. Yeon-jin: Oh, is that so. You are fucking awesome. Seon-woo: Ha, this fucking bitch, the mouth on her really — Seon-woo folded Yeon-jin's knee backward, just like that. A horrific scream burst out, fierce enough to spray the blood smeared on her torn lip across the floor.

Seon-woo: — won't shut up. Lowering herself before Yeon-jin, who was clutching her knee and gasping, Seon-woo crumpled the single document in her hand into a tatter and wiped the blood from around Yeon-jin's mouth. Tossing the bloodied scrap of paper carelessly onto the floor, she took a small handful of grey ash from her inner pocket and threw it onto Yeon-jin's chest. Seon-woo: Eat it and crawl the fuck out and put the papers together. Got it?

I — I don't want a fully wrapped cataclysm getting fucked up because of the likes of you. Toward Seon-woo, who had risen to her feet, Yeon-jin delivered a voice strained with the effort of holding back pain. Yeon-jin: Si-yeon, really. Seon-woo paused her step for a moment and glanced down at Yeon-jin. Yeon-jin: Is she well? Seon-woo: Go yourself, kneel down, and fucking ask her. You think I'm your goddamn errand girl or something? Scene 06_01. Ji-young: Ah, Strategist.

Having finished the document signatures, Ji-young addressed Hee-jin, who had been organizing the scrolls. Hee-jin paused her nearly finished hand and answered Ji-young's call. Hee-jin: Yes. The Oldest. Ji-young: That — the means of stopping the River of the Dead, and the illusory work that can be unfurled like a curtain? That sorcery — how far along are the preparations? At Ji-young's question, posed as if it were nothing much, Hee-jin held her answer for a moment.

The answer that did not come readily from Hee-jin was something whose meaning both Ji-young and Hee-jin seemed to know well. Ji-young: Come on, I told you it's fine. And it has to be in place for the people of Headquarters to be safer. When Hee-jin belatedly noticed the hand of Ji-young that had moved to help organize her documents, and politely declined Ji-young's help, Ji-young lifted the corner of her mouth, as though to twit lightly.

With that same twitching expression unbroken, Ji-young conveyed the remaining intent lightly. Ji-young: I'll resent you afterward. I won't be able to not resent you, but later. That sort of thing — later. Having heard Ji-young's true meaning, Hee-jin, finishing the documents, answered in passing. Hee-jin: The arrangement will be done soon. The preparations — those are already complete. A heavier silence than expected flowed by.

Ji-young was only stretching her stiff body this way and that, as though it were nothing of note. Having finished organizing all the documents, Hee-jin knelt on the floor cushion as though to bow at the knee, and silently looked down at her own hands. Ji-young: The trial. Let's do it. Hee-jin could not readily deliver an answer to Ji-young's careful suggestion. Hee-jin: I believe it is early. Still. Ji-young: If it's because of any insufficiency, then don't. If it's because of guilt, then do.

The decision is the Strategist's to make. Ji-young did not disturb her usual voice in the slightest. And so Hee-jin, in the end, could not deliver an answer. She had no intention of hesitating. But neither could she readily voice an answer. At Hee-jin's deep silence, Ji-young, having finished loosening her body, glanced sidelong and looked at Hee-jin. Ji-young: Ah, by the way. Strategist.

At Ji-young's outbreath, calling Hee-jin after collecting her voice as though to shift the air, Hee-jin lifted her eyes from her hand at which she had been staring vacantly and looked at Ji-young. Hee-jin: Yes. The Oldest. Ji-young: Later, want to swing by the convenience store down the way together? Hee-jin: What? Ji-young: It's nothing in particular. As if preparing to head out, Ji-young pulled in the dressing mirror that had been near the cushioned mat.

Adjusting the angle of the mirror on the dressing stand, Ji-young briefly checked her hair and face and spoke. Ji-young: I keep swiping ramyun at night from the makeshift cookery at the training hall, and the Martial Director's been griping at me about it. Stingy thing. Hee-jin: Ah, ah. Ah, ah, ah. I shall scold her. Ji-young: No, that wasn't a hint for you to scold her on my behalf. It's just, lately I keep craving ramyun at night. So while we're at it, I'm thinking I might pick up a case of it.

Hee-jin: To be honest, thanks to that, my own belly has gotten a bit — Ji-young's expression, which had been studying the mirror, hardened over saltily. At Hee-jin's grumbling, Ji-young glanced briefly down at her own belly, then settled her face like someone who had eaten something too salty, and looked at Hee-jin as though chiding her. In the brief silence that followed, Chae-rim's voice — having been outside the open window — flowed in suddenly. Chae-rim: Later, I shall escort you. Ji-young: Ah!

I told you it's just the convenience store. Really!!