Chapter 98

A month and a half had passed since Eunha entered the training camp. Under the low-lying clouds, that day, Eunha did not stop training until the scarecrow was completely destroyed.

“You’ve worked hard.”

From behind, the camp commander, Gweon Woncheol, spoke as if he had been there for some time. It seemed he knew Eunha had stayed to continue training until this hour.

Woncheol glanced at the poor scarecrow, now a pile of ashes.

“The logistics officer will grumble again.”

Despite his scolding tone, he tossed a shiny apple to Eunha, who caught it reflexively. As she stared at the apple, he chuckled and said,

“Haven’t you eaten dinner yet?”

Only then did Eunha realize the sun had set. Lifting her chin to look up, she saw a sky full of stars, something she had never seen in Seoul.

“...Thank you.”

Eunha bowed her head slightly and took a bite of the apple. The sweet, crisp texture filled her parched mouth.

“How is it?”

“It’s sweet and delicious.”

“See, I told you.”

Woncheol laughed heartily. Eunha, taking another bite of the ripe apple, couldn’t help but laugh along.

Without a word, the two sat side by side and gazed at the night sky for a long time.

Suddenly, Woncheol shifted his gaze to the side. Eunha’s hand, holding the apple with only the stem left, was visibly scarred. The continuous training had left her with so many injuries that her healing ability couldn’t keep up.

Woncheol sighed and said,

“You can’t even hold chopsticks properly with those hands.”

“...”

Eunha looked at her hands indifferently and then hid them behind her back along with the apple stem.

“Is there a reason you train so rigorously? After all, even if your training here ends, you’ll still have to fight for your life repeatedly.”

“Once I leave here, what I have to face is not just my life.”

She intended to finish all the preparations she could make here before leaving. She didn’t want to see anyone die in front of her eyes anymore.

“Still, you need to take care of yourself. It’s also our duty. On September 1997, the day the world changed, we survived, didn’t we?”

“...”

Eunha remained silent, lowering her eyelashes. Unnamed insects were burrowing into the dry, hard soil.

September 1997.

How could Eunha forget the nightmare of that day?

Recalling the indelible memory, Eunha slowly got up.

“Still, I don’t have time for this.”

Now she had the power to kill those creatures. She needed to hone that power to eventually eliminate them.

“On that day, I also lost my daughter.”

Suddenly, Woncheol’s voice came from behind.

“...”

Eunha stopped in her tracks.

A dry wind swept between them, and their hair blew in the same direction.

He took a thick cigarette from his front pocket and put it in his mouth.

Squeak.

As he lit the cigarette, he spoke again.

“The house collapsed, and a vortex of dark energy appeared. My daughter, who was lying on the living room floor reading a book, was sucked in right before my eyes.”

It was like water being sucked down a drain, Woncheol murmured.

Seeing his young daughter being pulled into the gate right before his eyes, he risked his life and threw himself into the vortex.

There, he encountered a monster with a scythe and suddenly awakened with a system window appearing before his eyes just before he died.

“Thanks to that, I managed to survive.”

...But I couldn’t save my daughter. He added with a bitter laugh.

After the shock of his daughter’s death, his wife fell into a deep depression and eventually took her own life. He, the only remaining family member, ignored his son and fell into alcoholism.

“I thought my life was over. I couldn’t imagine it getting any worse.”

Eunha felt the same way.

The sudden death of her mother, the loss of her home, family, and dreams—no one reached out to help her.

“I even thought it might be better to just fight a monster and die with a pierced belly.”

Woncheol raised his head after saying this.

“But one day, my son came with a crumpled career aspiration form.”

The high school he attended was on indefinite suspension, and remote learning was impossible. The career form he brought was from just before the nightmare began.

“He said he wanted to be a firefighter. A hero who saves people in danger. I decided to fulfill that dream for him.”

Unlike Woncheol, who awakened quickly on the day of the disaster, his son was a non-awakened individual.

Since non-awakened individuals couldn’t become hunters, he said he wanted to be a firefighter and save people when peace returned.

“That young boy is better than me.”

He chuckled and exhaled a puff of smoke.

The acrid, toxic smoke swirled around him before dissipating into the air.

Eunha didn’t know what to say, so she just listened to his story.

“Seeing you reminds me of myself back then. But listen.”

After a moment of silence, he pressed the remaining cigarette into the ground and spoke in a lighter tone.

“From what I’ve seen, a person’s life is like a tree.

When a strong wind blows, it sheds one leaf, then another. When an unbearably cold and harsh winter comes, it might be left with only bare branches. But Eunha.”

I want you to remember this. He added quietly.

“───.”

Eunha slowly closed her eyes and then opened them.

What did the commander say back then? She couldn’t quite remember.

But he smiled.

Even under the black and white sky, he just smiled.

＊＊＊

A corridor lined with white floral wreaths.

Eunha, lost in thought, slowly lifted her head.

〈Funeral Hall〉

故 Gweon Woncheol / Host: Gweon Doocheol