Surviving on the Uninhabited Island (16)
Following Kim Mugong’s orders, Han Yeoreum raced around the island searching for the other cadets. As she moved along the shoreline, a flare suddenly burst into the sky not far ahead.
“There…!”
Han Yeoreum pointed upward, and Seomun Yerin gave a small nod.
The first person they ran into was Kim Yong.
“Hmph. I have no idea what the hell is going on! What exactly is the academy doing about this?”
“No time. Follow me.”
Ignoring his grumbling, Han Yeoreum immediately broke into a run again. Even though Kim Yong’s face twisted into a deep scowl, he still followed her without complaint.
Boom—
While they were sprinting, a violent explosion echoed from nearby. They rushed toward the source and found Lee Jia literally smashing a tamatoma to pieces. Shin Ari stood behind her.
“...This doesn’t look good,” Lee Jia muttered heavily as she glanced at the approaching Han Yeoreum. Shattered fragments of the tamatoma lay scattered everywhere.
“Weren’t these things only supposed to be in the center?” Han Yeoreum asked while stepping through the wreckage.
Tamatomas had burst all the way out to the coastline. Worse, their eyes glowed red—they clearly weren’t normal.
“They poured out from somewhere. The numbers are bad enough, but they’re insanely strong. It’s like they’re completely different creatures. What on earth is happening?”
Lee Jia frowned as she shook off blue blood.
Compared to the usually docile tamatomas, these ones seemed driven by nothing but the instinct to tear their opponents apart.
“I don’t know. We’re assuming it’s a gate break, but we’ll have to confirm the details later. Right now, regrouping comes first.”
“You’re right. At this rate, some of the cadets could be in real danger.”
Even Shin Ari would have struggled against these things without Lee Jia’s help. It was a miracle they had managed to link up early.
“...We don’t have time. Can you move right away?”
“Yes. Anytime. Let’s go, Ari.”
Lee Jia simply scooped Shin Ari up in a princess carry.
“Sorry… I’m not very good at light footwork,” Shin Ari murmured, face flushed with embarrassment as she nestled into Lee Jia’s arms.
“Doesn’t matter. This isn’t the time to worry about that. So…”
Just as Han Yeoreum was about to say let’s move, her heart suddenly plummeted. For no clear reason, an unbearable wave of anxiety crashed over her.
‘...Kim Mugong.’
Whether it was because of their Martial Soul connection, some call of fate, or pure instinct, Han Yeoreum sensed that Kim Mugong was in danger.
“Sorry, Yerin. I’m leaving the rest to you.”
Seomun Yerin stared at her silently for a moment before speaking.
“Central area?”
“Yeah.”
“Got it. Be careful.”
Seomun Yerin nodded with a heavy expression.
The sky suddenly shattered and the spatial isolation began to unravel. Her heart refused to calm down.
‘Please.’
Let nothing have happened. Han Yeoreum prayed over and over to a god she didn’t even believe in.
The center of the island was still thick with demonic energy. Tamatoma swarms had appeared out of nowhere, crawling everywhere. Han Yeoreum sliced through the tangible malevolent qi and ran desperately.
There were tamatoma packs all around her, but for some strange reason they hesitated to attack her. Thanks to that, she reached the coordinates Kim Mugong had given her relatively quickly.
A cave. Without hesitation she charged into the cave that radiated ominous darkness, and the sight that greeted her was—
Kim Mugong, collapsed in the middle of a basin, covered head to toe in blood.
“...Huh?”
Han Yeoreum stood there with her mouth agape.
Blood. Red blood everywhere. This was a sight she had never once imagined.
The thick metallic stench mixed with the smell of gunpowder stung her nose.
‘No. Please. Please…’
Feeling her eyes grow wet, Han Yeoreum forced her legs to move. If Kim Mugong was dead—
Fear seized her mind. Her throat closed up. She rushed over like a madwoman and laid him flat on his back. Then she pressed her face to his nose and listened for breath.
A faint exhale brushed her cheek.
He was alive. His heart was still beating.
Her vision blurred. Tears rolled down her cheeks one after another. Only then did Han Yeoreum let out the breath she had been holding.
“Haa… haa…”
He wasn’t dead. But his condition was critical. Deep gashes, bruises, internal bleeding—there wasn’t a single uninjured spot on him. It was far too early to feel relieved.
With trembling hands, Han Yeoreum rummaged through her clothes. A small, hard box came out. She frantically opened it, and her eyes widened.
Inside the box was a perfectly round medicinal pill.
The Harmony Origin Pill.
The half they were supposed to split was now whole again. She had no memory of receiving it, which meant Kim Mugong had secretly slipped his share into her box.
‘...’
Han Yeoreum bit her lip hard. It was as if he had predicted this exact situation and given her the pill in advance.
All sorts of emotions swirled inside her, but she pushed them down, placed the pill in her mouth, and chewed it into fine powder. Then she opened Kim Mugong’s mouth and kissed him, feeding the crushed medicine directly. Once she confirmed it had all gone in, she poured her inner energy into him to help it travel down his throat.
The bitter taste of blood filled her mouth.
‘...Please.’
There was nothing more she could do now. It was supposed to be a supreme-grade recovery pill, so all she could do was pray it would work. She held his hand tightly and kept praying.
Like that, what felt like an eternity passed. Gradually, color began returning to Kim Mugong’s face. The anxious beating of his heart steadied.
The rumors about the Harmony Origin Sect’s secret medicine had clearly not been exaggerations.
“You idiot.”
Wiping her tear-streaked face with her sleeve, Han Yeoreum muttered. He never thought about how much other people would worry. Why did he always push himself so hard? Her delicate brows furrowed deeply. Relief, resentment, and sorrow mixed together until she could barely hold back another flood of tears.
Rotor rotor rotor—
As she kept her face buried against his chest, the loud sound of helicopter rotors reached her ears. The academy had urgently dispatched rescue teams the moment the spatial isolation lifted.
Han Yeoreum stared blankly at the sky. Soon, a helicopter bearing the academy’s emblem appeared in her vision, signaling the end of the chaotic, eventful uninhabited island evaluation.
I was floating inside a hazy consciousness. Was I dead? Alive? I couldn’t even tell. The fact that I could think at all meant my brain was still working, so maybe I was alive? That was the only conclusion I could reach.
In reality I couldn’t feel my body at all, but I slowly began to sense the flow of my qi. It looked like I had somehow survived.
The last thing I remembered was Han Yeoreum’s face. Along with the soft sensation against my lips, something had flowed down my throat.
‘The Harmony Origin Pill.’
Judging by how rapidly my internal injuries were easing and how smoothly my qi was circulating, it was almost certainly the Harmony Origin Pill that Han Yeoreum had fed me. I’d secretly slipped it into her share because I thought she needed it more than I did, but thank goodness I had.
During the fight with Pung Jihae I wouldn’t have had the luxury of worrying about a pill. If I’d kept it on me, it probably would have been crushed to powder long ago.
When I thought about how close I had come to wasting half of that precious pill, I suddenly felt dizzy. Still, it was a little disappointing. It probably would have been better to let her eat the whole thing. My realm might be lower, but my internal energy wasn’t lacking. Of course I could say thanks to it I kept my life, but human greed really knows no bounds.
Anyway, the energy from the Harmony Origin Pill that had slid down my throat spread through every single one of my meridians, forcibly preventing me from leaving this world. When I had last observed my body, I realized that even if I had survived without the pill, the internal injuries would have left me crippled. I’d have to thank Lee Jia too.
Since all I could do was think, all kinds of random thoughts flooded my head. I wondered if everyone else had survived. With Cheon Hayeon there, I wasn’t too worried about them. Come to think of it, how had that crazy girl Han Yeoreum reached me faster than the rescue team? If she had circled the whole island the timing shouldn’t have worked. I had no idea.
It looked like it would take a while before my physical senses returned. I could feel the flow of qi to some extent, but internal observation was still nearly impossible.
‘How did I win?’
A fully matured Super Peak expert was definitely a tough opponent. Unlike the brainless blood demons, a normal human could think and strategize. I remembered being pushed right to the brink of defeat. By the end I had entered a state of no-self and exchanged blows in a trance, so my memories were hazy. Especially the part where I deflected Pung Jihae’s ultimate technique—that was surprising even to me. It had just… happened. Strange as it was, that was the only way to describe it. Since I’d done it once, the next time should be easier. If I practiced, I’d surely master it quickly. I decided to think of it that way.
As I continued reflecting, I gradually became able to observe my internal condition. My body was far from good, but if I rested properly it seemed I could recover without any lasting side effects. That was a relief. Losing any part of my body would be fatal for a martial artist.
However, there was one thing that made me uneasy. Something had settled near my heart. It was probably the dark red mass I had absorbed from the bead at the last moment. No matter how I prodded it with qi, it remained tightly condensed and unresponsive. It was unlikely to be anything good. If something born from a bead that absorbed a monster’s malice turned out beneficial, that would be even stranger. I also vaguely remembered the warning Pung Jihae had sent me with a voice transmission at the end. Had he said it was dangerous? I wasn’t sure. For now, recovering my body came first.
Twitch.
When I tried to move, sensation slowly returned to my fingers. Voices shouting something rang in my ears. I clenched and unclenched my fist, then forcibly lifted my heavy eyelids. Just doing that took every ounce of strength I had. It would probably be easier to fight Pung Jihae again. Such a ridiculous thought crossed my mind.
When I finally managed to open my eyes, I was inside a pure white hospital room. And right in front of me, staring down, was ‘Han Yeoreum.’
Seeing her eyes widen in surprise made me suddenly want to tease her. I forcibly gathered my qi, raised my arm, and pinched her cheek. The marshmallow-like flesh stretched out.
“...Kim Mugeong cadet?”
The voice sounded strangely muffled. I rolled my eyes to the side and saw the real Han Yeoreum standing there with a deep frown.
Two Han Yeoreums? No way. The person whose cheek I was pulling wasn’t Han Yeoreum—it was Professor Cheongha.
“....”
I naturally lowered my arm again.