ETVC C27

Chapter 27

Ryu Jisoo still seemed deeply displeased. Yet, it appeared Kang Gwonhoo had done his part, for when the two of them had to leave, he assigned one of his subordinates to escort them.

“I kept asking where you had gone, hyung, and finally one of his people told me over the telephone today. Do you know how frightened I was, hearing you were in hospital?”

Kim Jun, too, at last gave voice to the resentment he had been suppressing. Never had it crossed my mind that my injuries would trouble the two of them to such a degree. I thought back to my own life before I was drawn into this game. When I had been ill then, there had been no one to worry, no one to share in the pain—it had been mine alone. But now…

“I am sorry. I only just came to my senses, so I could not reach you sooner.”

I forced down the tightness rising in my throat as I gave my apology.

“Next time, if danger looms, tell us beforehand. We face such things together.”

“Yes—tell me too!”

With that, the two were appeased, their anger dissolving quickly.

They lingered, talking for some time, until at last they rose around seven o’clock.

“Hyung, send us word when you are discharged.”

“Do not overexert yourself.”

“Very well. Be careful until the event concludes.”

From the beginning of the conversation until the very end, Baek Soohyuk scarcely spoke, save to shut the door with a sharp, irritable gesture once they were gone.

“You have taken even children into your guild?”

The way his gaze had hardened upon Kim Jun… did he think me guilty of exploiting a child?

“What is that to you?”

“You treat him with such tenderness—one could almost believe he were your true younger brother. I found it… curious.”

I pressed my lips together and said nothing.

Surely not… could Baek Soohyuk be jealous of a boy like Kim Jun?

But I dared not ask the reason aloud.

Ring—

My chance vanished anyway, for the telephone rang.

“Tell them I cannot come now,” Soohyuk said curtly.

Plainly, someone had sought him in haste.

“Yes… very well. Make ready, then.”

He raked his hair back with an impatient hand before thrusting the device into his pocket.

“I must step out. Do not strain yourself; call a nurse or physician if you are in need.”

When even Soohyuk departed, for the first time I found myself alone in the chamber. The memory of the nightmare still clung to me; I had no wish to sleep. I toyed with my telephone, but the effort soon wearied me, the ache in my shoulder making it burdensome to hold.

Perhaps I shall read.

So musing idly, I turned toward the window. The season was one of short days, and already the moon rode high—round and full, casting light so bright it seemed to devour the stars. Rising from the bed, I seated myself by the window, where the fresh air stirred against my face. A rare moment of peace seemed to settle upon me.

Bang.

The peace was shattered as the door burst open. In strode an unashamed intruder, a lush bouquet of golden roses in hand.

“It has been some time.”

It was Kang Gwonhoo.

To me, who had lain abed scarcely two days, it did not feel “some time” at all. And in truth, two days was hardly long enough to warrant such a phrase.

“I suppose I must procure a vase.”

Without so much as awaiting leave, without so much as a reply from me, he strode forward and laid the bouquet upon the table by my bed. Meow, sunk deep in sleep, did not stir, oblivious to the arrival of one he despised.

“And what, pray, possessed you to bring roses?”

The night air flowed in cool through the window, its clarity reminding me that this strange encounter was no dream, and so I spoke.

“People say they are fair, and I thought perhaps you would delight in them also.”

He spoke as though he himself were incapable of finding beauty in such things.

Indeed—what would a man who holds no faith in mankind care for flowers?

No doubt he had merely reasoned that since most men admired them, I too would, and dressed the thought in elegance.

“Roses are fair indeed, but they are not, as a rule, the customary gift for a hospital.”

“Are they not? Then take it as a mark of distinction—an offering rare, not given to others.”

Truly, the man’s brazen shamelessness was without equal.

“What brings you here?”

Thinking it strange to linger alone at the window, I returned to the bed as I asked.

“Must there be a reason for me to call upon the ailing?”

Of course, the word “sick-visit” hardly suited him. I almost demanded whether he had ever once visited any of his many subordinates when they were wounded—but refrained. I already knew the answer.

“I am sorry, for drawing you into my troubles.”

So I chose courtesy instead of reproach. For indeed, it had been through his summons that I had faced calamity.

“Indeed. Quite unseemly of me, was it not? I had not thought myself capable of being so unsettled.”

I had believed him hardened by the sight of blood and death, unshaken by such things. The thought that I had judged him wrongly made me strangely uneasy.

Could it be his nature is not yet beyond redemption?

Perhaps my view was tainted by knowing him first as a character in a game. For the first time, I wondered if I had been unjust.

“Lately, when I see Baek Woojin, I find myself thinking—how remarkable, that a man so entirely foolish could provoke my interest.”

That thought shattered in an instant. His nature was as ruined as ever, with no hope of revival. He spoke so smoothly, so softly, that even his insults struck before I could muster a retort. If there were a contest for silencing others with words, he would win gold without rival, the distance between him and silver insurmountable.

“But after what transpired two days past, my view has changed.”

“Indeed?”

I could not think what might have altered his opinion. He was not one to be moved by another’s sacrifice. Yet perhaps—perhaps something had shifted.

“Yes. For you are even more of a fool than I imagined.”

I chose silence.

“You tell lies so poor they insult the word, you tremble like a leaf at the thought of battle, you are frail yet still you fling yourself forward as if to save another… I cannot tell whether you are the most timid of cowards or the boldest of men. At first, I thought it amusing, but the more I watched, the more it roused my ire.”

“My apologies, then.”

There is no arguing with madness.

“And yet, to turn away and let you wander would mean you would die soon enough. After all, I have found a diversion in you, and were you to perish at another’s hand, would it not gall me?”

His voice was silk-soft, honey-sweet, and every word pierced like a thorn. How could a man speak such wretchedness with such tenderness?

“I am no plaything.”

He laughed aloud then, bright as silver bells, wholly at odds with the situation.

“True. Had you been, I would long since…”

His voice trailed lower, softer, until the words were lost. Perhaps it was a mercy I did not hear them.

“And your wound—how fares it?”

He lifted a bottle of fruit juice from the box upon the refrigerator, turning it in his hand as he spoke.

“It is nearly healed. The spear was monstrously large, but it struck not a vital place.”

So many hunters nearby had meant quick aid. Though the injury was grave, it was remarkable how swiftly I recovered—save for the curse.

“My brother had a healer amongst his guild members. Had that not been so, had the battle dragged on with the barrier holding us inside, without aid, I could not say with certainty that you or I would have survived.”

He studied the bottle intently, as though it were a puzzle. Truly, his thoughts were ever inscrutable.

“I see. That detail I had not heard.”

Perhaps I, too, had taken it lightly. Subconsciously, I had assumed that if Baek Soohyuk survived, then surely I would also. For a moment, Gwonhoo’s hand stilled, before he set the bottle down once more.

“Tell me—do you have some desperate wish to die? For whenever peril arises, you thrust yourself into its path.”

No. It is because I so desperately wish to live.