Chapter 23
Chapter 23
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Hero
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Why had things turned out like this?
A room specially treated with magic stones.
No sparkling luxury items or convenient furniture—just the bare minimum for living: a bed, a table, and a toilet.
This was the waiting room for awakened criminals.
It wouldn't have been impossible to escape if I really wanted to, but I just didn't feel like it. Besides, even if I got out, I had nowhere to go.
The room was surprisingly spacious, which only amplified the loneliness.
I sat in the chair and turned my head.
A mirror.
I slowly examined the man reflected there.
There I was, haggard and unshaven, with messy hair.
No crisp suit like I always wore, no luxurious tie or flashy watch.
The man in the mirror had always been the master of a prestigious major guild, an S-rank climber, the hero the citizens cheered for.
Now, it was just me—Han Yu Seong.
Haa.
How had it come to this? Where had it all gone wrong?
I sighed and stared at my reflection.
Even I had to admit it was an ugly sight. Han Yu Seong in the mirror didn't look like a hero—he looked like a villain.
I'd been born into a poor family.
One day, as usual, I was home alone reading a hero comic. The typical story of heroes defeating villains.
I was enjoying it when I started smelling something burning.
It was a small villa—maybe someone downstairs had left the gas on and gone out. That's probably what happened.
In an instant, the floor grew hot, smoke filled the air ahead, and I was terrified.
I hid in the closet, wrapped myself tightly in a blanket, and waited, believing a hero would come save me.
Looking back, it was stupid, but hey, I was just a kid.
How long did I wait like that? I'd inhaled so much smoke I was losing consciousness when a loud noise erupted.
Soon the closet door opened, and someone shouted urgently. It was a firefighter.
After that, I passed out and don't remember much.
One thing I realized: heroes really existed, not just on TV, but in real life.
That's probably when it started—my admiration for heroes.
Naturally, my dream became a firefighter. I'd always thought about it, prepared a lot, so becoming one wasn't hard.
It was my dream, after all.
After becoming a firefighter, I set out to find the one who saved me.
I wanted to brag: the kid you rescued grew up and is now saving others.
I dug through fire records and went to find him.
Surprisingly, he lived in a tiny studio apartment.
When I finally met him, he'd lost both legs in an accident and was barely scraping by.
For some reason, he hadn't received insurance money, and a firefighter's salary couldn't sustain him.
The end of the hero I'd admired was utterly miserable.
Was this the future I'd dreamed of?
A life where solving meals in a smelly little room became the goal.
I'd hoped he'd lived a brilliant life. No, I'd assumed he had. He was my hero.
I was angry. At the very least... at least he should show me that side of himself, right?
Even without a fancy watch or sports car, shouldn't he show those who admired him and followed in his footsteps that he was living well and happy?
As if reading my mind...
My hero kept apologizing to me, not thanking me.
Listening to his apologies twisted my guts.
I wanted to escape that place fast. I thanked him, left a small token of gratitude, and fled the tiny apartment.
My heart was a mess. After that, I quit being a firefighter.
I don't even know why. It was just some indescribable feeling—I followed my heart.
Whether it was God's prank or not, the day after I quit, I awakened.
S-rank. God wouldn't let me go. He said I had to be a hero.
So I flaunted my abilities, built a guild, and conquered the tower.
In the end, I became a hero. Or rather, I was a hero.
But now, here I am.
For some reason, the me in the mirror overlapped with that firefighter hero.
No, I looked even worse. That day, I even tried to kill someone.
Kuh.
What a ridiculous story. Me, who admired heroes, trying to kill a person.
At least the me from my childhood dreams wasn't like this. When did it start? When did I change like this?
Could the childhood me understand the current me? What had changed?
I never knew realizing my values had twisted would hurt this much.
Now, the mirror showed young Han Yu Seong.
The child's eyes looked somehow sorrowful.
Just a few days locked in here, and I'd apparently gone mad.
'Do not cross the line.'
Moon Byul's voice echoed in my memory.
The same words, but they felt different. Since when had I been outside that line?
***
Lost in such pathetic thoughts, I heard the door open.
Looking over, Moon Byul stood there.
Are you alright?
Even though I'd cut off his arm, he walked in with a perfectly fine one.
It couldn't be real, but I felt glad somehow. Probably because I'd spent so long in this room.
I'm fine.
...I'm sorry about what happened at the auction house.
I'd tried to kill him. He must be here for that. Or maybe he had questions.
Why are you here? Want to hear something from me? Or...
If it's about that, I've heard everything.
He'd heard every detail: how I'd been humiliated at the press conference, how I'd used the black market to sell the grimoire.
Moon Byul and I sat at the table, facing each other.
You look a bit gaunt.
He snapped his fingers, and an antique teacup filled with steaming tea appeared.
It's my favorite tea. It has revitalizing effects.
......
He slid the cup toward me invitingly. I cautiously picked it up, blew on it, and sipped slowly.
It had a pleasant aroma. A taste I'd never had before, but not bad. Actually, pretty excellent.
As the tea went down my throat, my stomach warmed. Vitality surged, and my heart calmed.
Thanks to it, my mind cleared.
You really do feel healthier.
It's not a lie. Does it suit your taste?
...I like it quite a bit.
He snapped his fingers again without a word.
Strange-shaped leaves appeared in his right hand. He smiled satisfied, then handed them to me.
Same tea leaves. Steep them in hot water.
...I don't like tea much.
...What part was a lie? Fine, I'll leave them—do what you want.
Those leaves looked familiar... where had I seen them?
Why give me this? Payment for the magic stone?
No, just a gift. No strings attached.
I accepted his gift silently.
After that, we just drank tea, like we were at a tea party.
Moon Byul spoke first.
From what I heard, it all stemmed from a small misunderstanding.
A small misunderstanding? Funny.
A small one? Was it a misunderstanding when I begged you like a dog out of fear?
Something pent up in my calmed chest rose to my throat.
The guild's shaking, I'm a laughingstock, and now I'm a criminal.
You hate me.
Hate? It's not about that—you... you deceived me.
I looked at him and vented my pent-up frustration.
You acted like you'd solve my problems, but once I handed over the magic stone, you clammed up.
I expressed my injustice. You'd broken the promise—why am I locked up here?
Why did you trick me?
......
Or are you here to kill me this time?
Even as I said it, I couldn't meet Moon Byul's eyes.
I'm not that kind of person.
He said it flatly.
I told you from the start I'm human. Turns out all humans have to start the tower from floor 1. I just didn't know.
⋯⋯
Do you really think I deceived you?
...Haha.
A hollow laugh escaped. Nothing else would come out. I slowly opened my mouth.
My voice barely worked; I forced it out.
...No.
Deep down, I knew. What he meant by misunderstanding. He'd probably tried to keep his promise.
As he said, it wasn't his fault I couldn't enter the tower.
I'd assumed he could enter freely, like other spirits or summons. He was a grimoire, an artifact, after all.
Moon Byul didn't know the tower's rules. Why would a grimoire inhabitant ever need to enter?
You agreed to retune the magic stone I used. You weren't in a state to talk that day. Admit it?
⋯I do.
Then why didn't you call me back after?
⋯⋯
I waited. For you, Han Yu Seong, to repay the used magic stone.
I had no words.
My pride stung at telling him that even returning the stone wouldn't fix my reputation or debts.
I didn't want confirmation from him that it was my misunderstanding.
So what do you want to say? That it was all my fault?
Even asking, I felt the contradiction.
If not for the attempted murder, I wouldn't be here at least.
Why did you attack me?
......
Yeah, how did I end up trying to kill someone?
The intruder thief targeted the arm holding the grimoire.
But Moon Byul was different. He went for the neck.
He felt more human, that's why I tried to kill him. He really seemed human. Maybe he was, as he said.
......
Oh.
I couldn't look him in the eye not because he scared me.
I couldn't face myself.
Trying to kill Moon Byul was purely my greed for the grimoire.
This time, I didn't hold back.
...Gra... grimoire. I wanted to be its master.
......
Moon Byul, I wanted to kill you and become the sorcerer. Then I could fix the guild and reach the tower's top.
Not saying it would make me seem even more pathetic. So I told the truth, all of it.
It was shameful. Embarrassing. Humiliating. Terrifying. Still, I showed him this flaw.
And this is the result. Go ahead, laugh. The villain's end, right?
Then why did you apologize earlier?
...What?
His response was unexpected.
The first thing you said when I arrived was asking about my well-being and apologizing.
Hearing that, I finally realized: I'd wanted to apologize to him.
That I'd been glad to see him intact with my own eyes.
That guilt would have hit if he'd entered with a severed arm.
To me, you don't seem like a villain.
Haha, how would you know? You don't know me.
Before coming here, I asked most people I'd met about you.
I still avoided his eyes.
Your guild members who came to the association, So Seori, the chairman—they all said similar things.
......
I was curious. How others saw me. Fallen criminal? Or still a hero?
A bit rude, but a good kid.
......
You should treat people warmer.
He smiled faintly. First time hearing "rude," but it didn't feel bad.
And the decisive reason I think you're a good person...
He pulled a crumpled paper envelope from his pocket and handed it over.
Do you know Han Young-beom?
A name from deep memory, one Moon Byul shouldn't know, popped up.
A name I'd never forget.
How do you...? Him?
Ran into him on the way. Open it.
I slowly opened the envelope on the table.
Inside were copies of the sponsorship certificates I'd sent anonymously every month and the receipt for the magic stone prosthetic legs I'd secretly sent.
Wha... how... this.
It felt like a blow to the head.
He came to the association after hearing recent broadcasts and news of your crumbling guild.
Thud.
I don't know how he knew, but he learned you were here for a crime and sought the person in charge.
Drop.
He asked me to pass this on. Said you're his hero, not someone who'd do bad things—there must be a misunderstanding, and this proves what a good person you are.
The certificate in my hand slowly dampened. Fearing it'd tear, I carefully, very carefully, folded it back into the envelope.
Then I gently clutched the crumpled envelope tight to my chest so it wouldn't wrinkle more.
My shoulders trembled against my will.
...I'll step out for a bit.
Moon Byul quietly left the room.
What was the difference between the me who admired heroes as a child and the me now?
I finally understood the answer.
Kuhk. Kkh... hng....
At some point, I'd been consumed by the act of the young S-rank guild master pretending not to be ignored.
Kk... hng, how... how did you know... kkhuk....
I hadn't wanted to be a flashy, packaged hero.
Yet at some point, I'd packaged myself like a perfect product. Acting the flawless hero.
In truth...
I... I!
I just wanted to save people.
Like the firefighter who saved me.