Chapter 8
Chapter 8
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Juni
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Do-young thought for a moment and then asked again.
“When did you come to this island?”
But this time, Gamal didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned to gaze at the sea, as if looking toward the direction she herself had come from long ago.
“Long ago.”
A clear light passed through her pupils as she stared straight at the horizon.
“Very long ago.”
Her foolish gaze suddenly made her look like a different woman altogether. And for some reason, Do-young found that face familiar.
But before he could grasp what it was, Gamal turned back and held out a fully grilled fish to him.
“Eat.”
She said with a sly grin.
It was impossible to fathom how she could be so utterly dog-like. Not in a derogatory way, but like a full-grown pup.
Do-young took the golden-brown grilled fish and took a bite.
“Did you make the salt too?”
He’d seen her sprinkling white powder onto the fish from the wooden container with holes drilled in it earlier.
“I boiled seawater.”
Gamal mumbled through a mouthful as she picked out the bones. She must have figured out how to refine salt. Do-young muttered to himself.
“Robinson Crusoe’s got nothing on you.”
The vampire’s tongue must have been tough too, because Gamal devoured the steaming fish without seeming fazed by the heat and had already polished off half of it. No one had ever taught her table manners, apparently. Her eating habits were downright sloppy.
Even allowing for some exaggeration, if she’d lived for three thousand years, you’d expect her to have that aristocratic arrogance unique to long-lived vampires, or the contemplative, indolent, listless aura that comes from being so ancient you’re practically rotting. But no—this was like watching some old grandma squatting and munching on roasted sweet potatoes.
At this rate, she probably hadn’t been of high status even back when she was human.
‘Did she really born in the 14th century BC?’
Do-young thought skeptically.
Fine, everything else could be chalked up to having slept for so long. But could the brain of a vampire who’d lived three thousand three hundred years really be this innocent? From her appearance as a human, she’d looked at least twenty-five.
Even accounting for his imperfect French putting her at a disadvantage, her fundamental personality didn’t suit a four-digit age vampire at all. It wasn’t like she’d been trapped in ice like Dooly.
Just then, Gamal opened her ragged crossbody bag, pulled out a flower, and started chewing it whole—like someone finishing a meal and chomping on a tobacco leaf.
Do-young watched and asked,
“Does it taste good?”
Out of curiosity, he’d once tried some phlos that his Luas squadmates were eating.
Not long ago—or so it felt like a hundred years back amid all the chaos—it had been harshly critiqued by one sergeant major as tasting “like half-melted ice that’s fully thawed into a lukewarm mojito mixed with saccharin.” But honestly, it wasn’t that bad; it was just like plain water.
If anything, there was a faint bitter herbal tang lingering on the tip of the tongue, which actually made it taste off. That’s why the sergeant major had compared it to a lukewarm mojito mixed with saccharin instead of sugar.
But his Luas squadmates had insisted it was sweet. Not like sugar sweetness, but a flavor you could only describe as sweet.
“No.”
But Gamal shook her head.
“Bitter.”
“Doesn’t taste good?”
Gamal nodded.
“Not really.”
Even for vampires, phlos was tasty, but the raw flower it came from apparently wasn’t.
“Well, a lot of food ingredients don’t taste like much in their natural state.”
Do-young muttered.
In the end, the flowers themselves clearly weren’t fit as a staple food. That’s why they hadn’t been able to serve as a substitute for blood over the long term.
It was only after encountering modern science that flowers became vampires’ staple sustenance.
Do-young pointed at the flower and said,
“There’s this thing called phlos. It’s refined from that flower.”
“Refined?”
“Like how you boiled seawater to make salt. It’s organic synthesis—a bit more complex process—but anyway, these days vampires can survive just drinking that instead of blood. You can get phlos once you leave the island.”
But Gamal showed no sign of understanding. Even as he spoke, she just kept munching away at the flower like it was corn on the cob. So Do-young added,
“You won’t have to chew through flowers like filling a bottomless jar anymore. So, once you get off this island…”
He was just about to get to the point when Gamal glanced at the flower and shook her head.
“It’s fine. Plenty of flowers.”
Her tone was firm, as if there was no point discussing it further. It didn’t fit her character at all up to now.
Do-young opened his mouth to say more. But Gamal spoke first.
“Major, more fish?”
She reached for the fish as she spoke, looking ready to pop it straight into her own mouth if he passed.
Do-young let out a sigh.
“Freeze. Let’s at least act human and keep some for me.”
“I’m not human.”
Do-young’s eyes sharpened at the deadpan retort, and Gamal quickly pulled her hand back.
“Yeah. But still gotta.”
Do-young wanted to ask, how the hell is this a three-thousand-three-hundred-year-old vampire?
***
For once, he felt stuffed.
Do-young usually avoided overeating because he hated the sluggish feeling. But here, with nothing pressing to do, he figured eating his fill would aid recovery more, so he went all out.
Now he was sitting under the shade of a tree, relaxing endlessly.
Do-young stared blankly at the shimmering heat haze in the landscape and muttered,
“Hot.”
“Hot.”
Gamal, whose belly was bulging out from eating so much, echoed from beside him.
“Peaceful.”
“Peaceful.”
They sat there for a while, and Gamal started dozing off, her head nodding. Post-meal sleepiness was an incurable disease no matter the species.
wispy clouds drifted lazily across the sky. Do-young had wondered if he could really afford to be this idle, but gazing at this earthly paradise, he truly felt no sense of crisis.
Besides, until his leg healed, he couldn’t do much without Gamal’s help anyway.
The shade was cool, but the air itself was stiflingly hot, sweat trickling down his back under his T-shirt.
He’d felt grimy ever since waking up without a proper wash. Do-young turned to Gamal and said,
“Need to wash up. Any spot around here?”
Gamal blinked her sleepy eyes open and extended a hand to him.
“I’ll take you.”
When Do-young took her hand, she helped him stand with practiced ease, already as skilled as someone who’d long cared for a disabled family member after a few tries.
Gamal led him through a narrow path between bushes deeper into the woods. Everything looked so similar that he doubted he could find it again on his own, but Do-young memorized it in his head.
Truth be told, while part of it was the grime, he’d suggested bathing partly to expand the mental map of the surroundings.
Gamal brought him to the edge of a lake. It had a similar vibe to the place where they’d first run into each other, but smaller and more secluded.
Do-young looked around. It felt like a fairy might descend to bathe there. Ironic that even stranded on a deserted island, there were still pleasures to enjoy. He’d keep thinking of this scenery even after getting home.
“Wash here.”
Gamal said. She didn’t leave, just stood there, so Do-young turned and raised one eyebrow.
“Not going?”
Gamal pointed beyond the bushes.
“Nearby. Call if anything happens.”
“What could happen here?”
A quick scan showed it wasn’t an island teeming with dangerous beasts.
“Drown.”
Do-young was floored. Gamal didn’t grasp French tenses well and mostly spoke in present progressive, making it sound like she was telling him to drown right now.
And there she was, with that utterly innocent expression—probably oblivious—leaving Do-young clueless how to handle this unique character.
“Got it. Don’t peek.”
“Not peeking. Why would I?”
Gamal treated Do-young like the weird one for even suggesting it and vanished into the bushes. Do-young shook his head in exasperation and pulled off his T-shirt.
Gamal watched from behind a tree, lurking like someone with shady intentions.
But don’t misunderstand—it was out of worry that Do-young might slip with his bad leg.
Just as Do-young was about to drop his pants, he suddenly turned and said,
“Hey, I feel eyes on me.”
Gamal whipped around.
“What? Wasn’t looking.”
Her instincts were sharp as hell—was she really human?
As she stared at the leaves, she heard water splashing and Do-young entering the lake. Gamal sat there for a long time, then wiggled her toes under her huddled knees.
She felt strange. She couldn’t quite explain how…
This was the first human who didn’t cower so much in her presence. Honestly, he was so unafraid it made her question if he was human at all.
But Do-young was human, through and through.
Up to now, his expressions had mostly been frowns, glares, or raised eyebrows of annoyance, but they were rich and varied. And that low mid-range voice she’d thought sounded nice from the first time she heard it brimmed with energy.
Vampires were the once-dead, after all. They were usually strikingly beautiful, but suited words like dark damp night, bluish icy chill, eerie moonlight. They couldn’t emit the vibrant energy Do-young did.
Even when angry, his vitality overflowed—so much so that when they’d first met under the waterfall, with him shoving and threatening her, she’d just stood there dazed, staring.
“Done.”
Then Do-young called out. Gamal snapped to and stepped out. He’d finished washing and was back by their spot.
Seeing the splint wood soaked, Gamal asked,
“Change the wood?”
“Yeah.”
“Hang on.”
She fetched suitable replacement wood and sat in front of Do-young to swap out the splint.
As Gamal leaned forward, her loose T-shirt revealed a glimpse of cleavage. Do-young kept his gaze firmly upward, fixed on her forehead, as if he hadn’t noticed a thing.
Her personality was so blank-slate innocent it bordered on dimwitted, yet her body was so mature—the contrast was striking.
And in moments like this, Gamal focused with the intensity of someone performing the world’s most important task.
A fresh breeze carrying the scent of water blew through.
Water droplets fell from the tips of Do-young’s damp, tousled hair.
That’s when Gamal looked up at him. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, shining straight into her red eyes—like countless overlapping crimson petals, with a strange ripple deep within her irises.
Do-young had many vampire comrades, but he’d never peered this closely into one’s eyes.
Biologically, vampires were predators and humans prey.
Specialized predators that fed only on humans, not other animals—they were natural enemies. Like the instinct etched into prey’s genes reacting, it was that spine-chilling terror you feel staring straight into a snake’s eyes, body frozen, unable to look away.
Prey beholding a too-beautiful beast loses even the will to resist.
Gamal felt strange too. His smooth jawline, the prominent Adam’s apple, the hand gripping the rock—they registered oddly, intensely.
Moreover, no human she’d met had ever looked her straight in the eye like this. If they did, it was with fear and revulsion.
To humans, she was one of two things:
A god or a monster.
But to this man, she was…