ETVC C28

Chapter 28

If only you would leave me be, I might live far more peacefully.
It was shameless, to think thus after receiving his aid, yet it was the truth of my heart.

“Not in the least,” I said.

“If that is so, then tell me—and I shall be the one to end you. The thought of you dying by another’s hand so angers me I could not endure it. Each night I should toss and turn, thinking, I ought to have killed him first.”

The polished mask of civility slipped from Kang Gwonhoo’s face, and what showed beneath was raw, ungoverned impulse. He resembled not the calculating lord of guilds but an impassioned youth, unable to rein in his own feelings.

“I shall see to it such a thing never comes to pass,” I murmured, resolving in silence that if blood were to be shed, let it be mine alone. I sensed that one wrong word might rouse those beautiful yet terrifying hands to strike me down.

“If your wound heals, then only the curse remains. Your brother has been near frantic in seeking a curse-breaker, though it shall not be an easy feat.”

“Yes. I suppose not.”

“You show no surprise. No despair.”

He muttered to himself as he pulled each bottle of fruit juice from the box, one by one, as though tormenting them. Why he should trouble himself with what he would never drink, I could not fathom.

Best to focus on the conversation, not the man.

“Curse-breakers are scarce by nature,” I said.

“So you already knew, did you not?” His eyes cooled, glinting like steel.

“Knew… what?”

“That all this would come to pass.”

The answer depended on the moment one chose. I had planned to shield Baek Soohyuk nobly, not thus. Yet when I hurled myself before the spear, I had known instinctively what future it would bring.

“What skill could I possess to foretell such? I only wished to hurry to my brother’s side, fearing for him.”

It was the flimsiest excuse, yet all I had.

“You struck the time with uncanny precision. As though you knew your brother would be struck at that very hour.”

I had not thought my lie would unravel so quickly, nor bind me so tightly.

“Perhaps you have the gift of prophecy? There is much I would ask, but we shall speak when you are mended. You do recall, do you not, that you owe me a debt?”

Indeed, such a promise had been made. In my haste, I had agreed without thought.

“Yes. I shall not forget it—be easy on that score.”

“Then so much the better.”

At last his ceaseless words stilled. He seemed to toy with the bottles, as if deciding whether to crush them in his hand. The sight unnerved me.

“The curse-breaker will arrive next week. I wished to summon one sooner, but that was the earliest possible.”

The words struck me dumb.

“What? Why?”

“Most of the higher-ranked curse-breakers belong to no guild. They must be secured by prior arrangement, a kind of reservation. The earliest day I could secure was that one. Your brother, ever scrupulous in his dealings, must have laboured greatly even to learn the proper channels.”

He offered an explanation far removed from what I had asked.

“No—I meant, why summon one for my sake at all?”

Now silence fell in truth. It was not the quiet of cunning, nor the pause of one hiding schemes, but the silence of a man bereft of words. Never in the game, nor in this world since I had entered it, had I seen Kang Gwonhoo thus.

“I cannot say. I never thought on the reason. I simply do as I please—and this time was no different.”

He looked… ordinary, almost flustered. And that, in him, was uncanny beyond belief. More so than if one beheld Kant tossing rubbish in the street, or Pythagoras forgetting the sum of one and one.

“This is unlike you, Kang Gwonhoo.”

“Indeed. Unlike me, even now.”

He ceased his idle play with the bottles and drew nearer. By instinct I shrank back, but there was little room to retreat upon the bed. His face came so close that his nose nearly brushed mine, and I heard his breath, loud enough to raise the hairs upon my skin.

“And yet—you know me well, do you not, Woojin?”

His searching gaze, keen and unblinking, was like a serpent watching prey. The serene, saintly impression he so often gave was gone; in its place was a visage sharp as a blade.

“I…”

The sound of my swallow echoed in the silence.

“How is it you know what kind of man I am?”

His eyes were depths of shadow into which no light could reach. My own careless tongue had placed me upon the edge of peril.

“We… have spent time together of late. That is all I meant.”

“By now you should have learnt—lies avail you nothing with me.”

He pressed me back until I lay nearly flat. In the hush, the smallest sounds were magnified—the ticking of the clock’s hand, the pounding of my heart, the drip of water in the washroom.

“Shall I take that as my question, then?”

I could not reveal all. This world is but a game, and you are a character within it, hence I know you. No—such words would be my death.

But perhaps I may turn the truth aside. Say only that one of my abilities grants me glimpses of what is to come. Not a lie, not wholly.

“Well…”

Pinned flat, with no space to retreat and no courage to shove him off, I closed my eyes and waited for what must come next.

Bang!

“Kang Gwonhoo, what do you think you are doing?”

Baek Soohyuk’s thunderous voice filled the chamber. The taut string of tension snapped at once.

“Another meddler arrives,” Gwonhoo said, drawing back. The heat between us dissipated like smoke.

At last…

I let out the breath I had held. Whatever peril their clash might bring, at least I was reprieved.

“Step away from Baek Woojin at once.”

Soohyuk’s hands gripped his weapons—two rapiers, though in truth their weight and might surpassed even the great blades of war. One swing would reduce this chamber to ruin.

“I thought you had declared yourself estranged from him. Saved his life once, and now affection blooms anew?”

Gwonhoo yielded not an inch. Instead, he taunted, serene as ever.

“It is no concern of yours.”

Soohyuk’s teeth ground so loudly I could hear it. I feared he would crack them to splinters.

“Indeed, not my concern—no more than you have the right to meddle in what lies between Woojin and me.”

He rose fully, standing opposite Soohyuk now, the air between them bristling with violence. I found myself, unwilling, the center of their contest, and the ferocity was greater even than before.

Why must they quarrel over me? Let them settle matters without drawing me into it.

The wound from the spear began to throb again, the pain relenting less as the medicine’s effect waned. I longed to summon a nurse before it worsened, yet the moment was ill-suited.

“I have the right to prevent my kin from consorting with those of ill repute.”

“Ill repute? I do not see it so. I merely pursue the most efficient means.”

But those “means” often meant hidden, dishonourable deeds. Few knew how many guilds bent beneath Gwonhoo’s sway, or how many engaged in such foulness on his behalf. But Soohyuk knew. And Gwonhoo knew he knew—and feigned innocence all the same.

“And can you call such deeds righteous?”

Oil and water, the two of them. Yet in their unyielding devotion to their own creeds, they were mirrors of each other still.

“And yet,” said Gwonhoo softly, “with all your righteousness, were you able to protect Woojin?”