Chapter 663
Chapter 663
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 663
Chapter Title: The Strange Date (4)
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1.
After the minor commotion downstairs wrapped up, Si-woo headed up to the second floor where Linne was waiting.
A few witches were already paying attention thanks to the ruckus from below, but Linne was Linne, through and through.
She sat perfectly upright on the sofa, her gaze fixed nowhere in particular.
As he approached, he felt like he was passing through a thin membrane.
The most basic form of barrier magic.
A soundproof veil that blocked external noise while preventing sounds from inside from leaking out.
"I got it. Here's your change."
Si-woo set the Moscow Mule down in front of Linne and took a seat, quenching his thirst.
Behind the tangy acidity of the lime juice came the sharp ginger bite of the ginger beer stinging his nose.
His throat, clogged from that petty squabble, finally felt refreshed.
"Phew, that's the stuff."
No wonder it was the shop's bestseller.
Leaning casually against the windowsill, he glanced out at the harbor view.
Below the sheer cliffs, the dark blue sea rippled, dotted with drifting cargo ships.
Atop the cliffs loomed massive crane-like machines hauling cargo up from the ships.
Unlike Border Town, there were no proper docks to moor at, so they salvaged freight vertically right from the water.
Reading the mana flows of the gate shimmering golden along the sea's edge, Si-woo couldn't help but be startled.
As far as he knew, gates were incredibly intricate and complex magic.
He'd also heard that Hexennacht was a city built by meritorious contributors.
But Hexennacht's "gate" wasn't some mere imitation.
Its precision, its refinement, its grandeur.
None of it fell short compared to Border Town's gate. It was believable that the technology had fully leaked out—or even that Keter had built it personally before leaving.
Unfortunately, he couldn't afford to stare outward forever.
What would anyone think of a captured man glaring at escape routes like a prisoner?
Conscious of Linne, he snapped his gaze back...
"......"
There was Linne, staring blankly at her glass.
She hadn't taken a single sip yet.
Anyone would think it was poisoned.
"You aren't drinking?"
"There's no reason I have to. You bought it on your own."
"Fair enough. But how could I drink alone?"
Buying one for Linne had been entirely Si-woo's arbitrary decision.
With her money, no less.
Part of him wanted a more honest conversation. Another part wanted to drag out the talk to inspect the gate—all for his own convenience...
But he had a perfect excuse.
"We're on a date right now, aren't we? You haven't forgotten the point of today?"
"......"
"You wanted to know Tiferet Duke's secret to getting stronger. We both have to put in the effort."
Magic words that could somewhat steer Linne's actions.
No sooner had he spoken than Linne's fingers twitched.
Reluctantly, she grasped the cold copper mug, took a tiny sip, and set it down.
"Pretty good, right?"
"I can't taste flavors."
The first real step toward conversation, and he got a response that was tough to follow up on.
Saying "Oh, didn't know that" felt too dismissive.
"Sorry for not considering that" seemed overly servile...
"The aroma is nice."
Thankfully, Linne kept the words flowing, sparing him a suffocating silence.
Look at that.
Not that it mattered right now, but starting a chat over drinks had already revealed that Linne was taste-blind.
"Huh?"
Can't taste flavors... can't taste...
Chewing over Linne's reply, Si-woo felt a nagging hangnail at his fingertips.
Can't feel them?
"Master, if I may ask something presumptuous?"
"Go ahead."
"By any chance... are there other senses you're numb to or can't feel?"
It was a somewhat rude question.
But a certain hypothesis had suddenly sprung to mind.
Linne, who showed zero reaction no matter what Si-woo tried all night.
Linne, who couldn't taste flavors.
Together, they pointed to one idea: what if Linne had congenital insensitivity to pain—or something like it?
"Yes."
Linne was tight-lipped.
She ignored unnecessary questions and rarely spoke of herself.
But for some reason, she answered readily this time.
"Warmth and coldness, too."
And she kept going.
"Pleasure, hunger, libido, sleepiness—none of my desires."
It was stated so flatly, not like a lament or complaint.
Enough to embarrass Si-woo, who'd only probed about erogenous zones.
"Ahem, that must be tough."
"No issue."
She might not taste it, but she clearly liked the scent.
Brushing off Si-woo's consolation like it was nothing, Linne lifted her glass again and set it down.
No hint of aversion or wariness, so he decided to probe further.
"Then... mind if I ask a bit more?"
"Do as you like."
After that, Si-woo dug into a few more cases.
What he learned was shocking.
Linne couldn't feel any pleasure—in other words, any sensation tied to "enjoyment" in life.
For instance, soaking in a hot spring registered as "hot," but not the soothing languor or refreshing relief from fatigue.
Even having sex with Si-woo conveyed pressure and foreign intrusion, but not pleasure.
It wasn't just physical; her mental faculties were impaired too.
A life devoid of physical bliss or emotional joy.
What kind of existence was that?
Linne setting her glass down with utter indifference suddenly made her look even more like a doll.
A doll perched on a bright display shelf, observing the world but feeling nothing within it.
Now it made sense—her extreme asceticism.
To her, lying in bed or sitting in meditation were no different.
"......"
But.
At this point, Si-woo felt a question arise.
All animal behavior and survival instincts ultimately tie back to pleasure.
In a life stripped of all pleasure, actions lose purpose and meaning.
Yet Linne burned with intense purpose.
The pursuit of strength.
Plus, when he'd staked his life against her before, he'd seen her face.
Not the mask-like blankness, but a smile of pure battle ecstasy.
He didn't see it as inconsistent.
Si-woo himself was a seasoned warrior, risen from countless fights.
He knew the exhilaration and thrill that only combat could bring.
Split-seconds stretched into hundreds, life and death on a knife's edge—an intense rush everyday life couldn't match.
So even if Linne felt nothing from normal stimuli.
Maybe in those moments, she truly felt alive. Maybe that's why she chased fights until earning the epithet Sword Ghost.
It was a plausible inference.
"Still, it's good we can talk like this. I had no idea."
"......"
"This is why dates are great."
As expected, Linne couldn't care less.
"Not curious about me?"
"No. When do we head back?"
"Since we're out, let's stay a bit longer."
He reined in Linne, who seemed eager to leave.
He hadn't properly analyzed the gate yet.
Subtly flicking his eyes outside, he opened the conversation.
"Master, how did you become a witch?"
A softer way of asking "How did you become a contributor?"
At the same time, he pinpointed the gate's key nodes.
Gates were vast magic in themselves, but all spells had core axes.
As he scanned the three main mana-flow points.
A sudden silence made Si-woo turn.
"Master?"
"......"
Linne sat blankly, blinking vacantly.
Had he touched a taboo?
Or had she caught on from his gate-watching?
He was on pins and needles.
"Master."
"...I'm listening."
Only at the second call did Linne respond slowly.
She lifted the glass she'd been clutching tightly and wet her lips again.
When Linne set her glass down.
Si-woo saw it.
Where was the usual razor-sharp gaze?
Her pupils were hazy, focus drifting in and out.
"Are you drunk?"
"...No."
Not content, she blinked slowly and shook her head.
Her complexion unchanged, but her tongue was noticeably slurring.
Si-woo eyed Linne's glass.
Maybe half gone.
Based on vodka but mixed with lime juice and ginger beer, a Moscow Mule was only around 15 proof.
Factoring in the hefty ice, the actual strength was lower than fresh soju.
A witch's activated brand handled detoxification.
To get smashed on purpose, you'd have to chug endlessly.
His master could down a bottle of whiskey right there without batting an eye.
Yet Linne—an apprentice witch, no less—getting tipsy off that little? Even accounting for it being her first time, it was surprising.
"What did you say?"
"Oh, I asked how you became a witch, Master?"
"......"
Ah.
She's out.
Linne's eyelids drooped heavier, then her head lolled forward.
If he had a little sister like this, he'd drag her away from booze no matter what.
He hadn't planned this, but heaven helps those who help themselves.
A prime chance to inspect the gate without Linne watching!
Si-woo moved to peer out the window, but frowned.
The soundproofing didn't dull his senses.
Footsteps thudded across the floorboards, heading straight for their table.
No attempt to hide the anger.
Glancing back, sure enough.
The witch who'd flirted with Si-woo downstairs earlier, and another familiar face.
"Dorothy! It's this guy!"
"Eh."
Ash-gray hair and striking silver eyes.
The witch with I-cup udder-like breasts propped on her crossed arms grinned at Si-woo.
"What an awfully cocky-looking bastard."