ETVC C24

Chapter 24

“Well done.”

From across the way, one bent low in a bow toward Kang Gwonhoo.

Could it be… that guild is under his protection?

Kang Gwonhoo, unsurprised, betrayed no change in countenance. Of course he had known. His thoroughness deserved recognition.

Ding.

A chime rang, and the system window unfurled.

[First Guild War Side Quest: “Hapjeong Station” Concluded]
[Two guilds remain. The barrier shall be lifted.]

Closing the window, I checked the time once more.

Three forty-eight? Already?

My slouched body sprang upright.

A taxi will never make it in time.

The words lodged in my throat were those I least wished to utter—yet if I were to see my plan through, there remained but one way.

“Kang Gwonhoo!”

He raised his head from where he sat astride the fallen Jeon Gi-hwa.

“Please—help me. I shall answer one question you put to me.”

Though no great reward, what he craved from me was ever information. It would suffice as a bargaining chip.

“That is quite the tempting offer.”

For once, fortune favored me.

“I must reach the barrier at Seoul Station within ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes…”

“Is it possible?”

If anyone could achieve the impossible, it was Kang Gwonhoo. Should he summon one skilled in teleportation, perhaps it might be done.

“Goo Oh-sook-ssi, a word.”

At his summons, one of the guild members who had earlier bowed came hastening forth.

“Can you deliver us to Seoul Station within ten minutes?”

“Yes. It shall require several breaks, but it is possible.”

Ryu Jisoo, staring wide-eyed at my urgency, was quickly given a hurried explanation.

“I am sorry. There is somewhere I must go. Please, go on ahead.”

“What? Ah… I understand.”

Thankfully, she read my impatience not as deceit, but necessity, and pressed me no further.

“Shall we, then?”

Kang Gwonhoo demanded to accompany me as though it were his due. From the first, I had known he would insist; there was no choice in the matter.

“I beg it of you.”

“Take my hand, and close your eyes. It shall be dizzying.”

The one called Goo Oh-sook needed no further instruction, moving with swift precision. For me, it was a blessing. Five times we vanished and reappeared, and at last Seoul Station loomed before us.

“We have arrived.”

The barrier was but steps away.

“My thanks.”

Without a glance back, I stepped within.

“Well done. You may return now.”

Yet Kang Gwonhoo, dismissing Goo Oh-sook, followed me into the barrier.

Unlike Hapjeong Station, Seoul Station was vast and teeming with life. Chaos reigned; battle clashed upon every side. I faltered, overwhelmed.

Baek Soohyuk must be here.

My heart pounded wildly, then tightened in my chest, only to surge again. I scoured the throng, but found him not. With each passing moment, my urgency grew, the crush of bodies choking me ever tighter.

Three minutes remain.

Sweat poured from my palms. My vision narrowed until even Kang Gwonhoo at my side all but vanished from sight.

At this rate, Baek Soohyuk is in peril.

In this very first Guild War event, Baek Soohyuk was fated to take a spear for his subordinate. The weapon, cursed, left him long wracked with pain.

I cannot allow that.

Had I grown fond of him already? The thought of Soohyuk suffering made my chest ache. Perhaps it was because I had lived so long without family; perhaps I had grown too deeply into this role, as though I were truly Baek Woojin.

I had planned to intercept that spear with a shield from my inventory—planned that, by hurling myself before it, I might not only save him but swiftly mend our broken brotherhood.

Where is he?

But reality seldom bends to plan. Far from blocking the spear, I could not even find him, trembling uselessly as seconds slipped away.

Where are you, Baek Soohyuk?

[Skill “Reading the Future Lv.1” has been activated.]

In desperation, I grasped at straws. A misty vision unfurled. Blood sprayed in scarlet arcs. Baek Soohyuk staggered, pierced through by a thick spear. His strong body crumpled; his face twisted in anguish. His subordinate cried out in panic, guilt wringing his voice.

No…

[Skill forcibly terminated.]

Shaking off the dizziness, I scanned once more. The clock I had glimpsed in that vision came first into view. Its pendulum seemed to swing slower, slower…

There!

As the pendulum slowed, my body quickened.

[Resonance rate with the character rising. Calculating values.]

At last, I caught sight of Baek Soohyuk. There was no time to draw a shield.

“Baek Woojin!”

Voices—two men, calling me—slowed, stretched, like broken tape. Baek Soohyuk’s form drew near, close enough to touch.

Thud.

And blood spurted forth.

Thankfully, it was not his.

“Baek Woojin?”

His eyes, wide and empty, his lips trembling, etched themselves into my vision.

Ah… this was never my intent.

“Woojin-ssi!”

Consciousness flickered in and out. When awake, clamorous voices battered my ears, and fire consumed my shoulder. When adrift in unconsciousness, there was no pain.

I longed to remain lost in that painless dark. Floating ever onward down the river of unconsciousness, I came at last to a great door. Somehow, I knew—it was the door to Baek Woojin’s memories.

A silent sentinel stood before it, expressionless, giving me a single look before opening it wide.

[Resonance rate calculation complete. Current resonance with the character: 20%.]

As I stepped through, the past played before me like a scene from a film.

The sea. A summer’s day, perhaps a family trip. The air of holiday clung to the salt breeze. Upon the sand sat Baek Woojin and Baek Soohyuk, boys no older than middle school, clad in short sleeves and shorts. The sand was fine, the sea bright as crystal, the sunlight dazzling upon the waves. Like a scene wrought for cinema.

〈Woojin-hyung.〉

The way Soohyuk addressed him tickled strangely at my heart.

〈I am glad to have a family now. That my new family is you and Mother—I am so thankful.〉

〈I see.〉

Soohyuk’s words brimmed with simple, honest joy. Woojin, however, though his lips curved, the smile was forced. A shadow lingered upon him, a weight Soohyuk half-perceived. Thankfully, the crash of waves veiled the silence, and awkwardness passed swiftly.

〈Do you not feel the same, hyung?〉

There was hurt beneath the question, a trace of wounded longing. Woojin was not so dull as to miss it.

〈Of course not. I like you too.〉

A weak answer, wrung from him with difficulty.

〈I am glad.〉

Content, Soohyuk stirred the sand with his feet.

I, an outsider, watched them. Middle-school Woojin was soft, pliant, gentle—so different from the bitter, self-absorbed man he would become. Listening to them, I could scarcely believe this was the same boy destined to grow hard with resentment.

Too kind in youth, and thus cruel in age? What made him so?

For the first time, I saw him not as the owner of the body I wore, not as a character in a story, but as a person. Where was the true Baek Woojin now?

〈Is your hand well? The one you hurt earlier?〉

Soohyuk, recalling suddenly, seized his brother’s hand.

〈It is nothing.〉

Woojin snatched it back hastily, hiding it behind him.

〈Why so reckless—〉

Soohyuk’s voice dwindled as the waves grew louder. Static crept into the scene, the vision flickered and dimmed. The film ended. And all the pain that had been scattered across my body rushed back into my shoulder.

I knew then: I was waking.