The Wooden Demon and That Man's Choice
Chasing traces, dawn broke.
Sometimes, when tormented by mad dreams involving Moyong Shin and Namgung Yeona—those bastards—I'd just write off the day as ruined. Fortunately, I'd slept soundly without any such nightmares and woke up refreshed.
Passing the workshop on the sandy beach, he arrived at the dock where his beloved weapons were safely stored.
No matter how strong one was, there were limits to what you could carry.
Not in terms of weight, but volume—there was a clear limit.
So, following the optimal loadout he'd planned yesterday, he strapped the three-barreled gun to his waist.
Over his back, he slung the Sage Cannon loaded and pointed skyward. With the cannon in hand, he was fully geared and ready to head into the forest.
Unlike yesterday, the solid armament put his mind at ease.
“Hendrick? Where are you?”
He'd prepared excuses for when they met, or even braced for a shouting match if the ghost accused him of hiding something. Strangely, though, Hendrick was nowhere to be seen today.
Should he count that as lucky? Of course, if Hendrick passed by the workshop while he was gone, the ghost would spot the anomaly immediately.
The Sage Cannon's presence was pretty damn conspicuous.
Still, what was done was done. He'd think about it when the time came.
Seizing the moment, he hurried off.
“Argh, what a pain in the ass.”
Climbing the forest path with a cannon wasn't easy.
The cannon's weight was no issue for him.
The problem was its shape—the barrel, the muzzle, the handle, every crevice snagged on vines and branches, slowing him down.
Plowing through the underbrush, he finally reached open spaces where trees didn't grow, scattered widely.
Thanks to that, he could finally catch his breath.
“This forest is deeper than I thought.”
The entrance was barely a drop in the bucket.
Deeper in, the woods were far vaster than he'd roughly estimated from outside.
At least it was a one-way path, almost artificially laid out.
No sign of monsters anywhere.
So he pressed on without stopping.
Following the path naturally, he soon emerged into a large clearing. Unlike the areas he'd passed, this one had artificial traces catching his eye.
“Bullet marks?”
Now faded with new growth and moss after much time, that only applied to small-caliber shots.
Large iron cannonballs left scars that time couldn't erase naturally.
Checking gouges and punctures on trees and ground, he traced the cannonballs' trajectories.
There sat a rusted lump of scrap on a broken cart, abandoned.
“A cannon? Why the hell is this here?”
Its shape matched the falconet he'd seen on the Huelrofun exactly.
For the first time, a link to the missing Huelrofun sailors.
Finding one trace unearthed more in droves: rolling iron shots, powder kegs, decayed muskets reduced to metal parts.
“...Hold up, this next to it.”
Examining the ground where the traces lay,
“...Bones.”
Not just any bones. Human bones.
Skeletal remains, gaunt from time, littered the clearing.
What the hell happened? Boss monster attack? If so, he'd need to revise his strategy fast.
Having gained firearm knowledge, he knew Spanish sailors' weapons weren't subpar.
If even more men and that falconet couldn't win, he stood no chance.
Swallowing hard, he prepared to slip away quietly.
The cries came at dusk, so maybe nocturnal. He could prepare countermeasures and return later.
But something shifted. An alien sensation: his smell.
The stench of rotting meat, days old, flooded the clearing.
“Why now?” Not nocturnal after all? Despite precautions, he was too late.
Next, hearing: thundering footsteps rushing toward him.
Finally, sight: a grotesque monster, claws out, leaping at him.
“Damn it.”
He leaped back to maximize distance.
Startled by the beast's speed but reacting in time, he lit the Sage Cannon's fuse.
Hiss—BOOM!
Thanks to the short fuse he'd preset, it fired swiftly.
Timing a bit off, it missed the aimed spot, but proximity boosted the iron shot's impact, smashing the beast's flank.
“KIIIIIEEK!”
The writhing monster in agony.
Buy time while it recovered.
No openings given, he gripped the cannon handle tight and whoosh—swung at it.
Clang!
Smashing
Weapon class bonus applied. Knockback effect triggered.
Its massive bulk barely budged.
Still, better than nothing. Distance gained, he reloaded the Sage Cannon.
Process now muscle memory, loading faster, but cannons were slow by nature. He couldn't finish before it recovered.
Raising the cannon like a shield against its charge, he noticed something off.
He'd hit its side, yet it looked battle-worn from prior fights: one arm shredded like rags, countless healed bullet scars pockmarking its body.
‘Come to think of it, that HP bar was weird.’
Not a bug—accurately reflected its state.
Its attack, unfit for its size, was feeble.
Confirmation: small arms would work.
Swinging the cannon wide for space, he dropped it and aimed the three-barreled gun from his back.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Shots fired at one-second intervals from the three barrels.
Bullets hammered one spot, piercing flesh.
Stunned and rigid, he finished reloading the Sage Cannon.
Locks eyes—cannon to head.
BOOM!
Iron shot pulverized its skull.
The hulking form toppled like a felled tree.
Magically, it pixelated into the sky upon falling, as if never native here.
Left behind: a lump of grayish metal and a clump of grass.
Treasures—rare items in the game—yet joy was muted.
Instead, a nagging unease, like he'd missed something.
Why was the monster half-dead, scars long-healed?
No other life in the forest.
Gaze drifted to the bones.
Approaching cautiously, he examined them.
Some crushed beyond recognition—likely Wooden Demon victims.
Without strong Waigong, he might've shared their fate.
But many skeletons were intact.
Approaching those, he lifted a skull.
‘...Bullet hole.’
Common trait: all skulls pierced by same-caliber bullets.
What? Infighting during monster encounter? Should've been survivors.
Mysteries piled up.
Scoured the forest—no more clues.
Dusk falling. Island cleared, but dark limited actions. Time to leave.
Retracing steps, weapons in tow—familiar path, swift without caution.
At the forest entrance, an unexpected figure startled him.
—Gone was the kindly, playful expression; a man stared with hollow, rage-and-terror-filled eyes.
[...I told you not to go in!!!]
“H-Hendrick?”
[You think I was wrong too, right? You think I was wrong!!!]
His passionate roar shook the air.
Why the outburst? Just for breaking the no-forest promise?
“Hendrick, talk to me.”
[You got hit too. Yujin, my disciple. You're the one who understands me.]
What nonsense? Hit by what? Understand what? Hendrick's ravings unnerved him; no clue how to respond.
[Lost Wreck] Finale: That Man's Choice
The man lives trapped in an unforgettable memory, even in death.
Witness the past and achieve your goal.
Story Clear: Become his one true understanding.
📍 Rewards: Hendrick's Affinity +20 (Current: 80), ??? Bond, Reward Room Unlocked
Without the quest window, he'd have frozen for hours. “...Accept.” Desperate to end the unease, he took it.
Vision blackened.
Strength drained from his body, mind fogging.
—Eyes opened.
‘Where am I?’
The ink-black sea churned upside down.
Sky and sea swapped; towering waves engulfed the mast like mountains.
“Dios mio! Reef the sails quick!”
“Snap to it, everyone—one mistake and we're dead!”
Screams, splintering wood, howling winds clashed in discord.
“What? This the Huelrofun pre-wreck?”
Not the derelict he knew, but a fully operational galleon.
Yet doomed: directionless, sucked into a massive whirlpool.
Some fought desperately; most surrendered to prayer, crossing themselves, confessing sins.
“Cliff plunge and near-drowning yesterday, now shipwreck too?”
Fucked. Nature's terror paralyzed them; disaster loomed.
“Lisbet!”
Familiar voice pierced the chaos.
Hendrick? Turning, not the translucent ghost, but flesh-and-blood Hendrick.
“Father, the wind—!”
Clawing across the deck, Hendrick's eyes fixed on a child.
Short boyish hair, soaked shirt clinging to narrow, frail shoulders.
Lightning flashed—a pillar of light struck.
Deck blinded; air exploded.
Flash!
Sails shredded, Huelrofun powerless.
Some clung desperately; others plummeted into the depths.
“...Father, are we gonna die?”
Child overwhelmed by despair, terror-stricken. Hendrick closed the gap, hugging tightly with wet hands—no words.
A colossal wave loomed like a mountain.
Powerless as ants before giants, they could only watch fate.
“Lord, have You forsaken us?”
With his lament to God, the sea swallowed all.