Chương 81: S.05 Time to Fly 02(02)

Scene 06_01. Ji-young's eyes snapped open. The room felt of clear sunlight. Just as on any other day, she scratched her tousled hair with her face heavily furrowed, and barely lifted her body up from where it had lain on the floor cushion. The weather was not so cold for Ji-young, so the 무렴자(Mu-ryeom-ja_paper-paneled window blind) was already fixed almost permanently rolled up above the paper-paneled window.

Ji-young, scratching her hair vigorously, with her face still deeply furrowed and her legs sprawled in a sloppy cross-legged sit, with her eyes barely open at all, half-rose her upper body in a wobbling motion and pushed open the paper-paneled window to check the weather outside. The sun sat high in the south and stabbed at Ji-young's barely-opened eyes. Ji-young, scrunching her already barely-open eyes nearly shut, flopped back down onto the floor cushion.

From beyond the wide courtyard of her quarters, where no sound had been, a small noise came through. The large gate beyond Ji-young's courtyard, which had been firmly shut, opened, and Hee-jin came in, her body hunched and shivering. Ji-young, without any thought of fixing her clothes or hair, answered Hee-jin's voice that came from outside her bedroom door, her own voice deeply scratched. Hee-jin: The Oldest. It is the Strategist. Ji-young: Come in...

By the time her thoroughly scratched voice trailed off, a yawn had already broken through, mashing even her pronunciation. Hee-jin, in casual dress, had opened the door to Ji-young's quarters, but stood at the entrance hesitating, as if uncertain whether to come in. Ji-young: Am I looking awful? Right now? Hee-jin: Ah, that is not it — I just, I did not realize you were still asleep.... Ji-young, with her long messy hair still as it was, barely managed to shake her head.

At Ji-young's signal that it was fine, Hee-jin let out a small cough and stepped inside without ceremony. Hee-jin pulled out a cushion set to the side and seated herself upon it. Hee-jin's casual padded outer coat looked rather thick. Ji-young: It was not cold. Outside. There was no thought of fixing her scratched voice. No thought of fixing her bleary eyes. No thought of stopping the scratching of her hair. Hee-jin: Um..., the thing is, for us... even two degrees above zero is rather cold weather....

Ji-young, rubbing her stomach, asked Hee-jin in her still-scratched voice. Ji-young: At the infirmary, is Yoon-ji there? Hee-jin: Yes. She finished freshman registration yesterday, and I gather she came in this morning. Ji-young nodded carelessly. Springing up from her seat, Ji-young stretched, expelling the remaining yawn up at the ceiling. Ji-young: I need to take some hangover medicine. Did I drink a lot last night... I do not remember.... I fell asleep without washing yesterday, did I not? Filthy.

Hee-jin: Ah, that — that much, I — I would not know.... Ji-young, with a careless little grin, nodded. Watching Ji-young take long strides forward, Hee-jin hurriedly rose to her feet. Ji-young's long legs walked barefoot across the heated floor stones in unsteady steps, heading for her thick Durumagi hanging on the coat rack beside the door. Ji-young threw it on, more dropped over her shoulders than worn, and with steps that had yet to wake, headed outside. Hee-jin, now standing, hurried out after Ji-young.

Scene 06_02. Yoon-ji: Ah-ni, SSibal, I am asking you why I have to go to that orientation, or whatever the hell it is! ~ I am working a part-time job at a medical facility right now! Beyond Ji-young's sneakered feet that had walked in, Yoon-ji's enormous tantrum came through. To call it a tantrum was to undersell it — it was closer to rage. Ji-young, half-lidded eyes still, no idea how she had even walked here, finally rubbed at her eyes at Yoon-ji's shouting from inside.

Briefly meeting eyes with Hee-jin who followed behind her, Ji-young walked the remaining steps into the cozy interior of the infirmary. Yoon-ji: Ah-ni SSibal, I told you I am not practicing medicine!? Are you deaf?! Huh?! Just because I got in, do you think I am the kind of person who is fated to play doctor?! You motherless piece of shit?! I am hanging up!! Because this is fucking bullshit!! After leaving her sneakers on the stepping stone, Ji-young climbed onto the wide wooden veranda.

The cold of the wooden floor seeped into the soles of her feet. Realizing only then that her feet were still bare, Ji-young rubbed them against her leggings, and without minding Yoon-ji's huffing voice, slid open the closed paper-paneled door of the infirmary. At Ji-young's presence, Yoon-ji, who had hauled her anger up to the top of her head, quickly calmed her bearing and rose from her seat.

As she made to bow to the entering Ji-young and Hee-jin, Ji-young, still very much sleepy, waved her hand to dismiss Yoon-ji's greeting. Ji-young dragged over a treatment chair from inside the infirmary, and plopped down onto it as if collapsing into place. Ji-young: What is it? Why are you fired up first thing in the morning? Yoon-ji, hearing Ji-young's casual and still-not-fully-awake voice, briefly checked Hee-jin's face.

When Hee-jin gave a light gesture with her chin to say it was fine, Yoon-ji's expression flipped in an instant, twisting the voice that had nearly turned polite. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. Yoon-ji: Ah-ni! This SSibal medical school assistant or whatever the hell, just because I came in at the top of the class, he says do not skip orientation, and he was cursing right at me!

Ji-young, with her not-fully-awake eyes, stared blankly at Yoon-ji as if thinking about something for a moment. Ji-young: Did he say he would expel you from school? Yoon-ji: Ah-ni? Who is he to do that!? Ji-young: Then it is fine. If he pulls another Jiral, go over and slap him across the face. Ah, do not use Incantation. At Ji-young's clear and simple solution, Yoon-ji let out a large sigh and nodded. To Hee-jin, who stood respectfully behind Ji-young, Yoon-ji offered another chair and invited her to sit.

Seating herself on the assistant's stool, Yoon-ji belatedly asked the still-half-asleep Ji-young. Yoon-ji: But why are you here, sis? On a Saturday afternoon? Did you just wake up?? Ji-young: I drank a bit last night, so I came to get some hangover medicine made up. It has been a while since I drank, I cannot get my head straight. Yoon-ji: Ah. That. The one Former The Oldest used to take....

Yoon-ji, having said it without thinking, suddenly caught herself with an "oh no" thought and broke off, checking Ji-young's reaction. Ji-young, as if to say not to do that, furrowed her brow a little more and shook her head. Ji-young: It does work well. I snatched some of Mom's a few times to try. Yoon-ji, watching Ji-young's reaction to the end, took out a small medicinal pill from the infirmary refrigerator and handed it to Ji-young.

Tearing open the medicine packet smaller than her palm, Ji-young tossed the herbal medicine inside into her mouth. Having swallowed the medicine without water, Ji-young furrowed her face at the bitterness and let it show on her face. Yoon-ji took out a warm ready-made bottle of 쌍화차(Ssanghwa-cha_Korean medicinal tea) from the warmer and handed it to Ji-young. Ji-young, looking at the Ssanghwa-cha in Yoon-ji's hand, looked up at Yoon-ji with her brow still furrowed.

Ji-young: Hey, this really makes me look like an old codger. Yoon-ji: But it cuts the bitter taste fast, so just drink it. It is hot for you, so be careful. Ji-young opened the bottle cap and drank carefully, then, as if she could finally live, let out an ahjussi-style burp with her mouth half-open. Ji-young: Whew, now I can live. Once something hot goes in, my head clears up a bit. But why are you here on the weekend, Yoon-ji?

Yoon-ji: Ah, the doctor said he needed help with some work this afternoon, so I came to help him. Ji-young: Where did doctor ajeossi go? Yoon-ji: He did not say. He just said he would come around in the afternoon. Ji-young nodded and rose to her feet again. Hee-jin, matching Ji-young's stretch, lifted her seated body and stood up as well. Ji-young: Ah, I missed lunch too. How long did I sleep. Hee-jin: Exactly, fourteen hours you slept.

At Hee-jin's crisp answer, Ji-young thought something over for a moment and nodded blandly. Ji-young: Not that different from weekends when I worked at a company. That much. Shall we go. Hee-jin: Pardon? To where.... Ji-young: Make me some of that bean-syrup ramyeon stuff too. Do not just give it to Jeong-in. Scene 07. Yu-seok was sitting in a tranquil 한옥(Han-ok_traditional Korean house) garden.

Even in the rather cold weather, he had judged that outside was better than indoors for facing the presence seated before him. Beyond the quiet garden, the towering buildings of the city stood on every side. After looking around at the city that would vanish like a mirage, Yu-seok sat unmoving in his chair, even though he had seen the black something before him, and even crossed his legs.

With a bland expression, Yu-seok lifted the coffee cup set on the table, lightly furrowed his brow, and asked the black presence seated before him. Yu-seok: So, what brings you here? The Weeping of Putrefaction: Them, first. Yu-seok watched the coffee cup in his hand for a moment, then simply tipped it onto the ground. Yu-seok: Rotting everything to nothing — a special talent indeed. Yu-seok set the empty cup back on the table and fixed his gaze on the black presence again.

The Weeping of Putrefaction: The errant ones. Their traces, first. Yu-seok: Sweep them up yourselves. We have no wish to meddle in such trivialities. Having already made grand boasts as you have, what is it you fear, that you would come to me with a request? The Weeping of Putrefaction: They still possess life. Yu-seok: That is precisely why I say what I say. If you sweep them up, the matter ends on its own.

Those who, taking pleasure in being revered, passed knowledge and power to them and have used them all this while, now find that purpose has slipped from their grasp and become a burden — and have come to plead with me. Does that make sense? Furthermore, I would have you understand that you are not in a position to issue one-sided commands to us. The Weeping of Putrefaction: The Envoy is already. Yu-seok: Then all the more reason for us to stay out of it.

Nor have we any intention of being dragged off to your world early in some pointless dying. The fact that I have served you a few times does not make me your dog. It is merely coexistence. Ah — since life is not what you have, "coexistence" is the more fitting word. We only wish to exist together. Know that we are not in any position to issue commands or to apply pressure upon others. The black presence cast a dim rust-colored light and shaped its form a little more completely.

As the wrought presence grew darker, the sprouts of the garden began to rot black. Yu-seok, as if smelling something foul, held a smile and gently covered his nose with his hand. Yu-seok: Then, let me ask one thing first. The black current of water, which had been about to begin its rotting once more, paused its viscous black flow and sat still, as if it had decided to listen to Yu-seok's words. Yu-seok: How was it. The Key. The black current of water conveyed no meaning.

Already having clashed twice but unable to defeat Ji-young, who remained human, the black presence sat there silently, unable to convey any meaning. At the black presence's silence, Yu-seok briefly uncovered his nose and wore an expression of surprise. Yu-seok: Was she that much. The Weeping of Putrefaction: I too cannot dwell wholly within the body of a living one. A vessel is needed. A vessel that has missed its life. The shaped being's voice came through with rather distinct clarity.

Unlike before, when only presence and meaning had crossed over, now that it had come into existence, it conveyed even a twisted voice. Yu-seok: The ones who used up all the suitable vessels were you. By what reasoning do you make such a request of us yet again? Your face is thick indeed. When The Weeping of Putrefaction once again let its black current pour onto the ground, Yu-seok, as if he had nothing more to say, stood up from his seat. Yu-seok: Then sit there shitting in protest, as you put it.

While you waste time like this, they will move with sharpness. And then — without obtaining a single one of your goals, or that person's goal — you will simply break, vainly. Like self-reproach. The Weeping of Putrefaction: Vessel. Yu-seok, who had been about to leave, paused for a moment to read the black current's will, then asked with a puzzled look. Yu-seok: Surely — you are not thinking of me? Do you mean to throw to the dogs the deal that you would not kill me and that woman? Do not make me laugh.

You shall never be able to dwell in me. I am of the living. I have no intention of dying. If you kill me — you will lose your standing as the Envoy's Legion. And you will not be able to descend. What in the world are you thinking right now? Do you have thoughts at all? The Weeping of Putrefaction: I shall grant you a trace. Yu-seok showed a flicker of contemplation. After thinking it over for a while, Yu-seok sat back down and faced the black presence squarely.

Yu-seok: The kind of thing those pathetic cults do — you mean to do that with me? The Weeping of Putrefaction: It is no more than a starting point. A trace may be better than an unfit vessel. After all — it is for killing a human. Yu-seok, with a peculiar smile, nodded slightly. Yu-seok: It shall not even be half. Of your capacity. It did not spread Putrefaction, but only sat there still. Yu-seok: I shall not permit it to dwell long. And if it does not work, I shall cast it off.

The Weeping of Putrefaction: So long as a seed remains, so long as a sprout may rise from it, that is enough. Yu-seok, understanding the meaning of Putrefaction, wore a bright smile. Straightening his back a little further, with a slight wrinkle of his nose at the smell, Yu-seok twisted the corners of his mouth at the presence set before him, and nodded.