Reed the Gravekeeper

I was a slave.

A slave. It was a word that sounded utterly alien in modern society, but objectively speaking, there was no other way to describe what I had been.

I became an orphan when I was five years old.

My family had gone out together on a small fishing boat. By some cruel stroke of misfortune, a rogue wave swept over us and capsized the hull. It would have been a mercy if I had simply died with them right then and there. Instead, I survived. I alone survived.

With no one left to take me in, I was handed off to distant relatives rather than an orphanage. They lived in a remote village tucked away in Gangwon Province. Even now, the memory of that breathtaking, wide-open landscape remained etched into my mind. But was living with relatives truly better than an orphanage? Not in the slightest.

"I feed you and give you a roof over your head, so naturally you have to earn your keep, don't you? A person needs to know how to return a kindness to be considered human."

From the very start, that uncle had taken me in solely for cheap labor. Out in the countryside, working hands were perpetually in short supply.

Except for the bare minimum compulsory education mandated by law, my entire day was consumed by work. As soon as school let out, I was put to pulling weeds. While other kids my age ran around playing, I was shoveling cow dung. Spending the whole day breaking my back, choking down cold leftovers, and collapsing asleep alone in a freezing back room—that was my daily routine.

It was child exploitation so severe that it was hard to believe it was happening in twenty-first-century South Korea. But that village was a place where time had frozen thirty years in the past. In that tiny hamlet, everyone was related by blood if you traced it back even a single step, and the only outsiders were migrant laborers brought in for seasonal work. There was no one around who would ever report it.

"Tired? Who isn't tired around here? In times like this, family has to pull together!"

I worked with everything I had. Ridiculous as it sounded, back then, I actually liked that man. The word 'family' on his lips sounded so sweet to my ears, and the icy floor of that unheated back room was the entirety of my world.

Besides, I had a dream of my own.

I wanted to go to college. Studying agriculture to improve the farming I was already doing would have been great, and learning civil engineering or construction would have been just as fine. They were all practical skills that could be put to good use in the countryside. If I mastered them, I thought, I could be of real help to our family—to my uncle.

The moment I shared that dream with him, a fist crashed into my face.

Smack!

"Shut your damn mouth! What kind of college does an idiot like you think you're going to?! You little bastard! You're just looking for an excuse to slack off and fool around, aren't you?! Do you have any idea how much money I wasted raising you? Instead of working to pay me back, you ungrateful little shit! Ignorant trash! This is why uneducated bastards never...!"

That day, beaten until my eyes swelled shut in shades of bruised purple, I finally faced the uncomfortable truth. That man had never once thought of me as family.

So, I ran away. I sprinted all the way to the district town, hopped on the first bus I saw, and rode it straight to Seoul.

What I needed right away was money. Beyond college tuition, having dropped out of high school meant I needed funds to study for the qualification exam, attend a cram school, and cover my basic living expenses. With no education and an immediate need for cash, the options available to me were obvious.

Rough manual labor. Starting from construction sites, I went wherever they were willing to pay. Deep down, I even held a vague belief that working on these physical sites might help with the engineering I planned to study in the future.

Fortunately, having spent over a decade doing heavy farm work, I adapted to the labor in no time. Calls for work started pouring in, and foremen began asking me to join their regular crews. Just like that, a year went by.

I've actually saved up a decent amount.

Looking down at my bank balance, a broad smile spread across my face. Today was my last day bouncing between construction pits. With this money, I would spend a year studying, take the college entrance exams, and step onto a university campus next spring.

To be honest, I didn't even know how to study properly. I had no idea whether I was smart enough to pull it off. But no matter how difficult hitting the books might be... it couldn't possibly be harder than breaking my back on a construction site, could it?

"Man, the more I watch you, Kim, the more I'm impressed by how damn well you work."

"Why not stick with our crew? I'll bump up your daily wage."

"I told you, mister. I have to go to college."

"Tsk, what a shame. But hey, can't argue with college."

Whenever the older men pressed me to stay, the moment I mentioned college, they would simply smack their lips with regret and let it go. None of them were shameless enough to hold back a kid trying to study his way into a better life. In moments like that, complete strangers felt far warmer than blood relatives.

"Well, since it's your last day, let's wrap this up quick and go grease our throats with some pork belly."

"Over there. Yeah, right there. Dig that spot. You see the water main?"

"Yes, sir."

I climbed down into the trench and inspected the pipe. Sizing up the job, it looked like we would easily finish before the day was out. Today would truly mark the end of this grueling, relentless grind.

Starting tomorrow, I was going to study like my life depended on it. I would become what people called an 'educated man' and live with my head held high. I was sick and tired of being cursed at for being ignorant. Yes. Just get through today...

"Whoa, look out! It's—it's giving way!"

"Move!"

The poorly shored-up mound of earth collapsed. A torrent of soil and gravel crashed over me, crushing me beneath its weight. The world went black.

Before the horrific pressure snuffed out my breath, only one thought surfaced in my mind—my unfulfilled dream.

Studying... I really wanted to try it.

And so, after a life spent digging through dirt, I died buried beneath it. An ignorant, uneducated nobody. That had been my first life.

If a man commits a sin, he goes to hell; if he commits a truly unforgivable crime, he is sent to the Western Frontier. That was a running joke passed around these parts.

If that were true, what kind of monstrous sins had the people living at the absolute bottom of this frontier slum committed?

Well, as far as Reed could tell, he hadn't done anything terrible enough in his past life to warrant this.

An orphan in this life too, huh? Was I just born under the star of orphanhood? Did I inherit the fate of a forsaken child instead of the Star of Calamity?

As Reed looked up at the sky with a crooked smirk, a man with a prominent scar across his cheek walked over.

"Hey. Gravekeeper. Time to start digging."

Because of the ugly mark on his face, people called him Idiot Joe. In truth, he had carried that moniker long before he ever got the scar, meaning Joe's reputation was weighed far more heavily toward 'idiot' than toward any badge of violence. Even so, Joe was a made member of the Black Blade Gang. To a slum orphan like Reed, he was an enemy far beyond his power to oppose.

"Coming."

Reed grabbed his shovel and obediently fell in behind Joe. When they reached a familiar clearing, a hooded man was lying face down in the dirt. The body was soaked in blood and completely motionless, clearly having drawn his last breath some time ago.

Shoved a blade into his throat and twisted it. Still, looked like it took him out in one strike, so maybe he didn't suffer much.

Reed asked casually, "Did this guy try to skip town without paying a debt? Ah, wait, if he owed money, you wouldn't have killed him like this. Did he try dealing powder on your turf instead?"

"Shut your damn mouth and dig. And who the hell are you calling 'mister'?"

Shrugging, Reed surveyed his surroundings. In the slums, finding a corpse lying around was hardly news, but among them were always bodies that could never be seen by the public eye. This place was a dumping ground meant for burying exactly those kinds of corpses.

It was a vacant lot not far from the city, but unlike the rocky terrain elsewhere, the earth here was strangely soft and fine, making it ideal for burying bodies. Before beginning his work, Reed turned his gaze toward the stone statue resting at the center ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the clearing. Resembling a tortoise, the statue had been battered and worn down by the passage of centuries, its original form barely recognizable.

Supposedly one of the forgotten ancient gods, isn't it?

This place was the Western Frontier—more precisely, a frontline city bordering the Demonic Realm. It was Asteritz, the gateway city separating the western wastes from the central continent. Strictly speaking, this ground could already be considered part of the frontier.

The Demonic Realm was a perilous land littered with the ruins, fallen gods, demons, and beasts of the mythological age. Rumors of fools touching an ancient relic only to be afflicted with a fatal curse were a dime a dozen. That was precisely why the gang hired Reed to dig the earth instead of doing it themselves.

They don't want to catch a curse on their own hands.

Of course, Reed had buried dozens of bodies around this plot, yet he had never once suffered so much as a sneeze. In fact, digging graves had become one of his primary sources of income. He had ended up saddled with the moniker 'Gravekeeper' instead of his real name, but since it kept him from starving, he had no complaints.

"Hey, what are you spacing out for? Get moving!"

"Just measuring where to dig. Right about here should do it."

Gauging the corpse's build, Reed quickly calculated how deep and wide the trench needed to be. Once the plan was set, the rest was child's play. Raising his shovel, he sliced into the earth with practiced ease. The solid iron shovel Reed had scrimped and saved to buy cleaved through the yielding soil like a knife through soft butter.

Joe let out an appreciative whistle at the sight.

"No matter how many times I watch, your digging is something else. How the hell does a runt like you shovel so damn well? What's the trick?"

"Just the right angle and technique."

The right leverage, driving the blade in at the optimal angle—that was the hard-earned truth Reed had discovered on construction sites: you could produce massive results with minimal force. The trade skills he had painfully acquired in his past life were proving remarkably useful for surviving in this world.

Carving out the earth in record time, Reed rolled the body into the hole, covered it over, and held out his palm.

"All done. My pay, please."

"Here."

"...It's one short."

The agreed-upon price was three copper coins. But the coins Joe tossed into his hand amounted to only two.

Joe sneered down at him with an irritating grin. "Hey, you think scratching up a little dirt for a few minutes is worth three whole coppers? Don't get greedy, kid. Take the two and be grateful."

"...Tsk. Fine."

It was dirty and cheap, but the man was a gangster. All Reed could do was swallow his indignation and keep his mouth shut.

Just you wait, you bastard. Your day will come.

Idiot Joe sauntered off, humming a jaunty tune. Letting out a long sigh, Reed walked over to the weathered stone statue and pressed his palms together in a brief prayer.

"Sorry for disturbing your peace."

This was a world where magic and mystery breathed with terrifying vitality. Whether this weathered stone was truly the vestige of an ancient god or not, showing a little respect cost nothing. Though with his modern sensibilities still lingering, the idea of an actual curse felt far-fetched anyway.

Pocketing the two copper coins, Reed turned and walked toward the city. Even today, the streets of Asteritz bustled with chaotic energy. Being perched on the boundary of the Western Demon Realm, the constant influx of adventurers, mercenaries, and moving goods kept the thoroughfares alive at all hours.

"Recruiting pioneers for the Western Frontier departing tomorrow morning! Origins and past records do not matter! Anyone seeking a fresh start, step right up! Basic supplies and stipends provided!"

A recruiter bellowed at the top of his lungs from a wooden crate. A few passing pedestrians paused, looking tempted for a moment, before shaking their heads and moving on. While the Demonic Realm was undeniably a land of opportunity and second chances, it was also universally known to be a treacherous meat grinder. Ordinary folk with any semblance of a stable life had no reason to throw themselves into that wilderness.

It's... still too dangerous for me, too.

Reed had certainly entertained the thought of venturing into the frontier himself. He had gathered quite a bit of information over the years. But he was still far too young. His small, undeveloped body was ill-equipped to survive the horrors of the west.

Right. I'll think about it once I'm grown.

For a pauper, tonight's meal was always infinitely more pressing than vague plans for the distant future. Reed rolled the two copper coins between his fingers. If he used these to buy a pouch of cheap barley flour and cooked up a bowl of porridge, today would be another day safely survived. It was neither particularly terrible nor exceptionally good—just an ordinary, unremarkable day.

A day just like yesterday, and one that promised to be just like tomorrow.

...At least, it was, until Joe came pounding on his door that evening.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

"Fuck, fuck, shit! Hey! Gravekeeper! Get the fuck out here!"

"...At this hour?"

"Shut your mouth and follow me if you don't want to die!"

Joe had barged in drenched in cold sweat, his leg trembling uncontrollably as he muttered a steady stream of frantic curses. From his panicked eyes and twitching hands, it was obvious he had caused a massive catastrophe.

Something feels completely wrong about this.

Yet Reed had no choice in the matter. Grabbing his iron shovel, he fell into step behind the trembling thug.

When they reached the burial clearing, what waited for them was something completely outside Reed's expectations.

"...A girl?"

Sitting on the cold ground was a young girl wearing a clean white dress. One look at her lustrous blonde hair and the glimmering jewelry around her neck made it blatantly obvious that she was the daughter of some wealthy, highborn house. Her hands were bound tightly with coarse rope, and a thick cloth was shoved roughly into her mouth.

"Mmph! Mmmph!"

"Wait, what is the meaning of this—"

Joe's face hardened as he pointed toward her. "Hey. You. Bury that thing right now."

"What?"

"Are you deaf? I said bury her!"

Reed was struck speechless. Up until now, his job had strictly been burying those who were already dead. Even if it meant helping the local syndicate dispose of their dirty laundry, he had never felt like he was committing a moral crime.

This is entirely different.

Kill someone? And a young child, at that? Looking at those wide, gentle eyes brimming with terrified tears, she was clearly someone who had never brushed against the violence of the underworld in her life.

"Bury her alive? Are you completely insane?!"

"Goddamn it! If I tell you to bury her, you shut your trap and dig, you little shit! Before I butcher you right where you stand!"

Shing!

Joe drew a wicked dagger and leveled the tip straight at Reed's chest. He wasn't bluffing. If Reed refused to obey, the thug was fully prepared to slit his throat on the spot.

Flinching, Reed tightened his grip on the shovel handle. Yet his body refused to move. It wasn't merely moral revulsion holding him back; every survival instinct he possessed was blaring an alarm inside his skull.

Having lived two grueling, bottom-feeder lives, Reed was exceptionally sharp when it came to smelling danger.

These bastards clearly kidnapped her.

Kidnapping the child of a wealthy merchant to extort ransom was hardly rare in a frontier hub. And when things went south, murdering the hostage wasn't uncommon either, tragic as it was.

So why go out of their way to bury her alive?

If they simply wanted to get rid of a hostage, there were a dozen quicker ways to do it. Why go through the trouble of keeping her alive, dragging her all the way to this remote clearing, and forcing a child to bury her into the dirt? Sensing the mortal trap tightening around him, Reed's mind spun at frantic speed.

The pieces began snapping into place.

Burying her isn't the point. This bastard wants ME to be the one who kills her.

The gang had likely snatched a girl who looked like an easy target, only to realize too late that they had touched someone far beyond their league. Perhaps she was the daughter of a high-ranking city official. Or worse, a noble of the Empire. You didn't negotiate with monsters like that. Returning the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠girl with a sniveling apology of 'Sorry, our mistake, hehe' wouldn't save them from having their entire syndicate slaughtered down to the last rat.

So, they had decided to bury the evidence and play dumb.

Furthermore, this was a world teeming with genuine magic. Reed had heard whispered rumors that high-tier mages possessed divination tools and tracking spells capable of tracing the killer of a murdered noble.

Those kinds of mages are fabulously expensive, but a noble house could easily afford to hire one.

Which meant the gang members couldn't afford to be the ones dealing the fatal blow. Instead, they would force a nameless slum orphan to do the deed, shifting the entire spiritual and magical guilt onto a scapegoat. A noble lady murdered by greedy slum vagrants—wouldn't that be a perfectly tragic, believable narrative?

Damn it all.

The blood drained from Reed's face. He felt like an insect hopelessly tangled in a spider's web. Glancing back, Joe still held the dagger pointed dead at him. Had this idiot blundered into kidnapping a big shot's daughter by mistake? Or was Joe himself just another disposable pawn forced into doing this dirty work? It didn't matter. What mattered was that Joe meant every word.

If Reed refused to bury the girl, Joe would kill him. If Reed buried the girl, he would still be killed or executed as the fall guy.

He was caught in a lethal trap with no obvious way out.

Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, Reed plastered an expression of simple-minded greed across his face.

"Fine. I'll do what you want. But you have to give me twenty copper coins."

"Tw-twenty? Fine! Good! That's using your head! I'll give you whatever you want!"

Joe nodded furiously. Seeing him agree to an absurd sum of twenty coppers without a second of hesitation, Reed's grim deduction turned into absolute certainty.

He agreed so easily because he never plans on letting me walk away alive.

Putting on the most nonchalant face he could muster, Reed drove his shovel into the dirt.

"I've never buried a live person before. If we want to make sure she doesn't dig her way out, I need to dig it pretty deep. Otherwise, her arms or legs might pop out when she starts thrashing."

"J-just shut up and dig faster!"

"Mmph! Mmmph!"

As Joe barked nervously, the girl wept, looking up at Reed with pleading, terrified eyes. But Reed didn't offer her a single glance, shoveling dirt with mechanical rhythm. Reassured by the boy's apparent compliance, Joe turned his head slightly to keep watch on the surrounding shadows.

In that exact split second, Reed leaned down and whispered, "Hey. Stop crying. Shut up! We don't have time. If this fails, both you and I are dead meat. Take it from someone who's died once before—dying is an absolute bitch."

"Hmph? Hngh?"

Reed locked eyes with her, his voice quiet, steady, and deadly serious. Coming from someone who spoke with the chilling weight of genuine death, his words shocked the girl into regaining a fraction of her composure. Keeping one eye on Joe's back, Reed muttered rapidly under his breath.

"I'm loosening your leg ropes. When I give the signal, you run like hell. Got it?"

"Mmph?"

"Nod if you understand."

The dazed girl gave a frantic nod. Feigning the motions of clearing dirt near her feet, Reed stealthily slipped his fingers under the cords binding her ankles and unraveled the sloppy knot. It came undone with surprising ease—typical half-assed work from Idiot Joe.

"When I give the signal, run. Understand?"

She nodded again.

Reed went back to digging, watching like a hawk for the right moment. He would only get one shot. If he failed, Joe's dagger would be plunged into his throat; his heart hammered against his ribs like a war drum.

"Hey! How long is this taking?!"

"Sorry, mister. I wore myself out working all morning, my arms are shaking."

"Fuck! Hurry it up!"

Placating the agitated thug with humble excuses, Reed waited, and waited. With every passing second, Joe's fraying patience neared its breaking point. Just as Reed was calculating whether he had to force an opening—

A thick drift of clouds swallowed the moon, plunging the entire clearing into pitch darkness.

It was a window of opportunity that would never come again. Reed shouted at the top of his lungs, "Now! Run!"

"Mmph!"

The girl scrambled to her feet and bolted. Instantly, Reed yelled out, "Whoa! Look out, she's getting away!"

"What?! You little bitch!"

Panic took over Joe, and he sprinted forward. A young child could never outrun a grown man; in the blink of an eye, Joe closed the distance, reaching his arm out to snatch the collar of her dress.

But blinded by darkness and frantic desperation, Joe never looked at the ground beneath his feet. Reed swung his iron shovel horizontally, driving the steel blade straight into the back of Joe's ankles.

"Gaaah?!"

Tripping violently, Joe tumbled head over heels, rolling across the loose earth until he landed with a dull, heavy thud—right inside the deep trench Reed had spent the last ten minutes digging. Reed raised the shovel high, standing at the edge of the pit and looking down.

Groaning in agonizing pain, Joe scrambled to push himself up, his eyes widening in sheer bewilderment as he looked up at Reed.

"You... what the fuck are you—"

There was no hesitation. The heavy iron shovel slammed down directly onto Joe's skull.

CRACK!

Proper technique and the right angle. When leveraged correctly, even a child's arm was more than capable of shattering a grown man's skull. Joe's eyes rolled white into his head, his body collapsing backward as bloody froth bubbled from his parted lips.

"Haaah... haaah... haaah. Thank god I bought a steel shovel."

Reed exhaled ragged, steaming breaths. This wasn't strictly his first time taking a life. When you lived in the lawless gutters of a slum, brawls broke out whether ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you wanted them to or not, and in the chaos of a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠street fight, people died. Not that Reed took any pleasure in killing... but looking down at the broken thug, he felt no remorse whatsoever.

Was it because Idiot Joe was an irredeemable piece of human garbage? Or had dying once before taught Reed that death, while terrifying, was also terribly fragile and simple?

Either way, this was no time to indulge in sentimentality. Reed knelt beside the trembling girl, quickly slicing away the ropes binding her wrists and ripping the dirty rag from her mouth.

"Cough! Cough, hack!"

"Listen to me carefully, kid. Calm down."

Blinking back tears, the girl stared at Reed, her lips parting into a haughty, indignant pout. "...I'm not a kid. Commoner."

"Right. Seeing how cheeky you are, you're clearly fine. Now listen. Head straight north from here, and you'll hit the main paved road. Follow that road all the way to the city gates. There will be imperial guards stationed at the gatehouses; ask them for protection. Got it?"

"...Yes."

"Wild beasts might be prowling off the path, so don't you dare step off the road. Some of this guy's gang mates might be lurking in the area, so stay under the guards' protection no matter what. Do you understand?"

The girl nodded obediently. Then, gazing up at Reed with wide, curious eyes, she asked softly, "...What about you, Commoner?"

"Me...?" Reed glanced sideways toward the trench. "I've got work to finish."

"...No. Come with me. You saved me, so m-my father will reward you handsomely."

"Right, right. Look at you, using big words like 'handsomely,' kid."

"I told you I'm not a kid...!"

Reed offered a faint, reassuring smile, speaking as if soothing a stubborn toddler. "Then you go on ahead. I'll catch up right behind you. I'll make sure to collect that reward when I get there, all right?"

Only then did the girl nod, turning to stumble forward on shaky legs. Even as she hurried into the dark, she looked back over her shoulder several times, prompting Reed to wave his hand dismissively to shoo her along.

Once she had vanished into the shadows of the road, Reed finally let out the breath he had been holding.

"Whew. A reward, huh...?"

That seemed wildly unlikely. He had laid a hand on a made member; the Black Blade Gang would never let this slide. Regardless of how powerful that girl's family might be, back-alley syndicates were as persistent and vile as weeds.

I don't know when it'll happen, but they'll definitely come for my throat.

Reed looked down into the trench. Joe's chest was still faintly rising and falling; a thread of breath remained in his shattered body. But having crossed the threshold, there was no room for half-measures. Raising his shovel, Reed began scooping the dark earth back into the pit.

The horrific agony of being buried alive—Reed knew that torment better than anyone alive.

Still, you don't really have any right to complain, do you?

After meticulously packing the earth flat over the fresh grave, Reed collapsed onto the ground. Having labored all morning on an empty stomach and endured a spike of sheer, life-or-death adrenaline, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion crashed over him.

Ah... I can't fall asleep right now.

He had no luxury to rest. The gang could realize something was wrong and scour this area at any moment; he needed to pack his meager belongings and flee the city tonight. Yet Reed's current body was still far too young. A heavy, suffocating drowsiness dragged him down. With his consciousness rapidly slipping into a hazy fog, Reed thought faintly,

Just a minute. Closing my eyes for just a tiny bit won't hurt...

Reed closed his eyes and drifted into the dark.

Right before he lost consciousness, a strange, resonant voice seemed to echo in his mind, but surely, it was nothing more than an auditory hallucination.

When he opened his eyes once more, Reed found himself standing in the center of an endless, boundless expanse of earth.