ETVC C33

Chapter 33

“Fear not, I shall never let you fall—be still but for a moment.”

At the tightening of that strong arm about me, I held my tongue. Reason, when summoned, whispered that even if I fell, the height was hardly enough to kill a hunter. The terror did not wholly abate, yet the heat and firmness of that grasp gave me strength to endure.

“My elder brother has naught to do with Kang Gwonhoo. ’Tis he who forces himself upon us.”

That single word—my brother—banished both dread and peril in an instant.

Brother? Did he just call Baek Woojin his brother? Why now, after all his declarations to the contrary? Once he vowed never to use that word again, and yet…

The question marks swam above my head, scattering the word brother hither and thither. He was not my true kin, and yet some guilty warmth stirred in me at the sound.

“Well, be that as it may, my instincts have never failed me.”

The grating static of his voice recalled my focus to the foe. Forcibly I ignored the echo of brother and drew instead upon memory. Whether by skill or uncanny instinct, Park Jaesoo’s senses were keen indeed. It was that very sense which had long served Gwonhoo, allowing him to cut discord off at its roots.

Even without him, Gwonhoo would have managed—but with him, life was easier. Perhaps that alone spared him from being cast aside.

What a vilely twisted man he is.

As though perceiving my straying thoughts, Jaesoo raised yet more hands of shadow from the ground, grasping upwards toward us. And in that same moment, with the aid of a teleportation device, he appeared at our backs, hammer poised.

Yet the violet hands, reaching hungrily for us, were devoured by warped space itself—Soohyuk’s skill consuming them utterly. He slipped aside from the rearward strike with ease and alighted upon the ground, where the poisonous miasma had already dissipated. Only shattered stones lay there now. Still, the menace that coursed through his body made my position at his side most uneasy.

“So you claim all this was wrought from nothing more than a so-called instinct? With strength so pitifully lacking?”

Jaesoo’s face darkened, his pride wounded, when his concerted assault from above and below was turned aside so lightly.

Hummm—

As Soohyuk set me upon the ground, the sword in his grasp burst forth in a radiant red glow. It was the light of the sun itself, so unlike Woojin’s. The blade seemed to shine of its own accord.

“Ah—”

Pain seared anew from the wound where the cursed spear had struck me. Though I had received a draught against pain ere discharge, it was surely the curse that now roused agony at its whim. Gasping, I dropped to one knee, my vision reeling. Through the haze, I glimpsed Soohyuk’s sword slicing through the air, the keen cry of its arc about to reach its mark—

Crash!

From the heavens, like a meteor, a man descended, crushing Jaesoo beneath him. Having thus pulverised another human being, he smiled as brightly as a star.

“Did you fare well upon your discharge?”

It was Kang Gwonhoo.

Utterly unbothered, he seemed not even to see the man pinned beneath his feet. Still kneeling upon the ground, one leg folded beneath me by lingering pain, I caught the brief flicker in his gaze as it darkened at the sight of my posture before swiftly smoothing once more.

“Yes, I was managing well enough—until halfway, at least.”

The thought—save for your man ruining all—I swallowed and kept within.

“Indeed. Had you not crossed paths with one so ignorant of his station, the better it would have been.”

He prodded Jaesoo’s face idly with the heel of his boot. The man, humiliated beyond measure, dared make no protest, lying prostrate in shame. No doubt the blow itself had caused pain, but to be struck by the very man he worshipped as divine—such a wound cut deeper still.

“G-Guildmaster…”

“Guildmaster? Why so? I hold that title no longer.”

Brazen indeed. The whole world knew he had stepped aside but upon paper, yet he spoke as though it were gospel truth. One could scarce do aught but marvel.

“I require explanation. I must be certain you pose no harm to Baek Woojin—though, by appearances, you already have.”

Soohyuk’s tone was edged sharp, his memory of the hospital quarrel still raw. At last, Gwonhoo stepped lightly off Jaesoo and stood. Both men, towering near two metres, needed no words—their mere glares cloaked the air in menace. The prickling tension made me long to flee home.

“Yes, indeed, I have caused trouble. I shall be more diligent in managing my men.”

He apologised with disarming ease, even as his hand seized Jaesoo by the nape and dragged him upright. Blood streamed from the man’s brow, his body trembling with terror, while the cause of his torment remained serenely unruffled.

“My so-called subordinate—offer your apologies.”

“G-Guildmaster… I-I—”

The veins upon Gwonhoo’s hand bulged visibly, tightening until Jaesoo gagged and his head was forced down. It was like some scene torn from a horror play, the tortured and the smiling tormentor side by side.

“Khh—ghk—f-forgive… me…”

A shake of Gwonhoo’s hand made Jaesoo’s body flop, bowing at ninety degrees like a puppet.

“See? He begs your pardon. Will you accept it?”

Never had an apology felt so chilling. A rare and unwelcome experience.

“C-could you not release him now?”

Though he had sought my life, to see him so wretched pained me nonetheless. Unable to face the tears streaming from his eyes, I averted my gaze.

“If that is your wish, so be it.”

With that, Gwonhoo cast him aside. Jaesoo rolled across the ground, crashing into the twisted wreck of our car. The loud clang bespoke pain, yet he scrambled to his feet and fled at once. He knew too well that lingering near Gwonhoo would only shorten his days.

“I had not thought that stalker would know aught of you.”

Stalker, he called him. Were Jaesoo to hear, he would surely weep again. Fortunate indeed that I lacked the courage to speak on his behalf, lest I end up defending the very man who had sought my death.

“Do you not fear he may return?”

“I gave warning—he will take heed. If not, I shall see to it myself.”

“N-no, that will not be necessary. Truly, it is fine. He will be cautious, I am certain.”

If ever I read of Jaesoo’s death in some future news, my conscience would never let me rest. And with a man such as Gwonhoo, the possibility was far from remote. Thus I hurried to assure him of my indifference.

“How tender-hearted you are.”

Even I could discern the irony lacing his tone.

“Tell us then—why have you come?”

“It concerns the curse-breaker. I heard word this fellow sought you out, and so I came in haste.”

Soohyuk had asked, yet Gwonhoo’s eyes never left mine as he replied. Gone was the polished image of a man immaculate, coiffed to perfection and clad in tailored coats. Today he was dressed in casual garb—yet the change did nothing to dim his beauty. Indeed, it lent him a different charm, proof that his hurried words were no mere pretence.

“A curse-breaker?”

“Yes. At last, a date is fixed. I dared not entrust such news to mere communication—too easily spied upon. You know well how secretive these rites must be.”

Indeed, curse-breaking was perilous. The practitioners themselves bore many enemies, while those afflicted were oft left vulnerable, defenceless in the midst of treatment. Thus secrecy was paramount, lest assassins strike.

“Are you certain this one is trustworthy?”

“Beyond doubt. Here—take this. The date and hour are written.”

Gwonhoo bent down and pressed a folded paper into my hand.