Chapter 123
Chapter 123
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 123
Chapter Title: Missed Connection (3)
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1.
Reclaiming what has been lost is my calling.
2.
Siwoo opened his eyes.
"What the hell."
He was sure he'd fallen asleep tossing and turning in bed, but when he came to, he was standing in a dim, shadowy space just like the one with Ain.
Stairs stretched out in a labyrinthine sprawl, defying the laws of physics. At the end of each staircase stood doors in every color imaginable.
It was a lucid dream—what people called an aware dream.
That was Siwoo's conclusion upon realizing this was a dream. It was strange how this space, which he was certain he'd never visited before, felt so familiar, as if he'd passed through it once upon a time.
Siwoo walked around, looking about in wonder. Then he noticed something odd.
About eight out of ten doors stood wide open, but the remaining two out of ten were tightly wrapped in black ribbons.
"What is this?"
Siwoo picked one ribbon-wrapped door and reached for the handle.
At that instant, every ribbon unraveled all at once.
A familiar sensation washed over him in waves.
It was like the time he'd drunk the potion Amelia gave him—all his memories rushing back in a flood.
But this was dozens of times worse: dizziness and nausea hit him like a truck, and every locked door burst open with a crude thud.
Before he could even panic, images and sounds came spilling out.
Caretaker, can't you clean more neatly? You don't have any complaints, do you? Stop with the pointless jobs like cleaning the gutters. Five years should be plenty of time to fix your attitude. For the next week, clean my lab building after your afternoon duties. That's what it means to be a witch. If you act like they do at Trinity Academy on your next assignment, you might end up dead. Even threats... what a bitch. You like this? Takasho really is a psycho.
Siwoo's left eye gleamed as he crouched on the stairs, clutching his head.
Like puzzle pieces scattering in a brilliant glow before snapping back together, fragments recombined.
Caretaker, missing your hometown? Of course, who wouldn't? Being Professor's slave beats slaving away in this shithole city, right? How the hell are you supposed to sleep in a dump like this? Even my hamster got a better place. Live like a witch. Live like nobility. That's what my master left me as her dying words. She always said it. I still don't know what 'like nobility' really means.
He rejected recovery through others' aid, advancing solely on his own power.
Amelia's a bitch, sure, but she didn't do anything worth getting dragged off to die for. And trusting some exile's promise to go outside? No way in hell. Caretaker, any health issues? Like contagious diseases or skin conditions? Speak up if there are. I shower twice a day, and now this crap. Suits tailored and all—you've climbed pretty high. Wait, living in the dorms with Amelia? What fresh bullshit is this?
I refused. What? I thought you could be a useful assistant. You turned me down for that? I've endured five years in this hellhole to escape it. Shin Siwoo, you're my property. I won't tolerate you slipping out on your own. Unauthorized escape plans will be met with appropriate measures. Appropriate measures? Who dragged me here against my will? You're the one who tormented me out of spite, Amelia. I've put up with everything, tried to let it slide, but screw this. You're a real piece of shit. What do you want from me? Tell me! What the hell do you want that you're torturing me like this? I'm sorry for bruising your fragile ego five years ago, but if you're gonna torment me like this, just kill me already. Answer me!
.....
Sorry, no prior arrangements. As for our relationship... let's call it friends. Amelia having friends? Bullshit. Just as vicious as expected. I'm done for at this rate. The twins got nabbed too—slave life for them. At least the magic studies paid off. Pierce. Pierce. Pierce. Pierce. Pierce. No matter how I struggle, some walls are impossible to breach. Fine, fine. So pretty. Cry even cuter. Who digs into eyes without anesthesia, you fuck? Alright, hold still. Sleep well.
His brain felt like it had been dunked in fizzy soda instead of cerebrospinal fluid.
Amid the churning thoughts in his rattled skull, final gasps of fragmented memories surfaced.
Shin Siwoo, the one offered as sacrifice, the boundary of one's station crossed as Sadalmelik waned, will Siwoo tuck me in?, I want cola, if it's a happy dream, do I ever have to wake?, Gehenna's moon always shines gold, the beauty of creation, mysterious constant pi, 3.14159265355820.....36064323025... what came next? Ah....1526717403326784450, how many digits did I memorize? Finally reached it, first 999999, Feynman point, two men whisper, half-open eye, recalling memories, I sing the lament of unfreedom, in the world of zero, golden dawn stirs once more, burn this body eternally.
.......
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Thank you for coming back—really, thank you. Amelia, did I do something wrong? While Siwoo was sleeping, I tore up the slave contract. Shall we sleep together? You don't have to apologize. It's weird. I'll lay out a mat in the garden. Let's have tea. I'll bring cake too. Any song you want to hear? I want to go somewhere with Siwoo. Shall I pack your things? You're so beautiful. Siwoo, you're handy. It's weird. Siwoo! Don't go too deep. What a catch. We'll have this for dinner. You press it with your feet like this to make foam. Easy, right? Siwoo, take off your shoes and come in. Tell me if you're cold—stargazing's great, but don't catch a cold. The apples are too crumbly. I think it failed. Thank you, Siwoo. It's weird. Even if you regain your memories later... can you forgive me? It's weird. I want what Siwoo wants too. But I don't deserve it. I don't deserve this. It's weird.
I'm sorry.
It's weird.
3.
It was the wee hours before dawn, when even the busiest birds slumbered deeply.
Siwoo threw off the covers and sat up in bed.
"........"
His blank expression twisted.
Even covering his face with both hands couldn't calm the erupting volcano of tangled emotions.
"Fuck......"
He ground his teeth and spat out a curse without thinking.
Everything he'd trusted felt like a lie.
He couldn't bear it without lashing out like this.
He wanted to punch something with his clenched fist.
"What a fucking mess......"
All the recovered memories were a chaotic knot.
It felt like he'd become the protagonist of The Truman Show.
Amelia, who knew everything, was the audience—and Siwoo was Truman.
Deceived without a clue, trapped helplessly.
Two streams of memory flowed through his dual hearts.
The Siwoo dragged to Gehenna at 23, treated like a slave, tormented by Amelia at every turn.
The Siwoo who'd lived happy days in the cabin with Amelia since age 11.
The month he'd endured while his memories and body rebuilt wasn't short by any means.
To Siwoo, a single day equaled half a year.
Waking from sleep meant yesterday's meal was a distant blur—a time of dizzying density.
"Urk...."
Nausea surged.
Everything he'd known, everything he'd felt, tangled wildly into a horrific headache.
Siwoo cradled his face in his hands.
Tears streamed down his cheeks unnoticed.
4.
Amelia, steeped in anguish and grief all night, rose late from bed.
Glancing at the sun's unfamiliar position, she realized she'd overslept.
Her head felt numb.
Sorrow, torment, regret.
Sleep offered a brief respite from them.
But they never vanished entirely.
The moment her mind sharpened even slightly, they loomed like swelling shadows.
Still, this fleeting peace was precious to Amelia.
"....Ah."
A thought flashed through her mind.
Oh no.
Siwoo must be waiting.
Lately, he'd often woken first to prepare breakfast, so maybe he'd finished already.
Amelia hurriedly changed and descended the stairs to the cabin's first floor.
"Huh?"
No Siwoo.
Unlike expected, nothing was prepared.
The furniture and blankets, neatly tidied last night, remained untouched—he hadn't come down at all.
"Siwoo?"
Maybe the events yesterday had him deep in thought, sleeping in?
A peek through the window showed no sign in the garden, and scouring the small house turned up nothing.
"Siwoo?"
Amelia climbed back up to his door.
No reply.
Still asleep?
Knock knock.
She knocked and called his name again.
"Siwoo, may I come in?"
Rustling sounds came from inside.
The door cracked open before the patiently waiting Amelia.
Truth be told, facing him after yesterday embarrassed her.
But she wouldn't waste their precious remaining time for such reasons.
Today, they planned to finish the painting on the barley field hill.
With the large canvas and easel, just like before.
"........"
Amelia startled when Siwoo stepped out, wearing an eyepatch.
"Siwoo, what's wrong with your face?"
It looked gaunt, almost sickly pale.
Amelia reached out and gently stroked his cheek.
"Are you okay? Caught a cold?"
"........."
The ominous silence stretched.
Amelia's thoughts raced.
Had he really regained his memories now?
As she gazed at him anxiously, the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
It was a smile that looked utterly strained.
"I'm fine. Did you sleep well, Amelia?"
"I'm good. But are you really okay? No fever..."
Amelia stood on tiptoe to touch his forehead.
Siwoo twisted away, shaking off her hand.
"Ah......"
"Really, I'm fine. Must be a slight headache."
Maybe awkwardness lingered for him, prompting the reaction.
Reflecting on her lack of tact, Amelia hugged her own arms and asked,
"Want to go paint together today? I'll pack lunch."
Siwoo hesitated, then nodded.
"Yes, I'll get ready."
Amelia sensed a clear disconnect in his retreating back as he moved to close the door.
She stopped him.
"Siwoo."
The distance between them felt like it had returned to how it once was.
No, more distant than mere last night's mishap could explain.
"Yes."
But Amelia lacked the courage to pry into the truth.
She shook her head slightly.
"Nothing. I'll wait."
"Yes."
The door creaked shut before the stunned Amelia.