Chapter 55: Partner (3)
Chapter 55: Partner (3)
Translation: Godtl
If only I could have prepared myself somehow.
If only I could have known the future through novels or games or the like.
Han-bin was thrown into another world without any warning on his way to work.
The landing spot was hell.
To be precise, it was the 8th floor of the Spirit Demon Realm, but calling it hell wouldn't be much of an exaggeration.
A forest of towering trees so tall that his neck ached from looking up, yet their tops remained unseen. A dreamlike natural landscape.
A waterfall cascading upward, luminescent mushrooms as large as a person's torso, a multicolored sea of clouds flowing along the mountain slopes.
And the divine, ravenous monsters that roamed within it.
Looking back, it was a miracle that an ordinary office worker from the modern world survived there for three months.
Pulling moss to eat, quenching his thirst from small springs.
Every night, stifling his voice, he cursed, "Why the hell is this happening to me?"
Just before he was either gobbled up by monsters or died from malnutrition or nervous exhaustion—
"Nonne fungus visus est. Immo, parvulus stat."
An angel—no.
He met a witch from legend.
Later, she explained that the first words Isolde had uttered were, "I thought it was a mushroom, but it's just a little kid."
She had been foraging ingredients for mushroom stew at the time.
"Come along for now, little one."
She pulled Han-bin out of the 8th floor of the Spirit Demon Realm, a place akin to hell.
She gave him a place to sleep, provided meals, and taught him the language of this world.
Han-bin wasn't entirely hopeless in temperament and was fairly diligent to boot.
He quietly took care of chores like cleaning and household tasks.
He even borrowed the kitchen to cook, and Isolde often ate his meals with great satisfaction.
Perhaps that earned him some points?
"I don't know how it is on Earth, but here, you need strength."
"You seem to have an aptitude for it. Why don't you try holding a sword?"
"Your circuits aren't suited for alchemy. But there's no harm in having the knowledge."
Isolde personally trained Han-bin until his talent as a knight blossomed.
When he showed interest, she even taught him the basics of alchemy.
As she had said, Han-bin's circuits weren't structured for alchemy back then, so despite having an exceptional teacher, he never achieved much in that field.
Looking back, those were carefree days.
Attending lessons, training, sharing meals, and sleeping—that was the entirety of their routine.
Peaceful, one might say, or leisurely.
From the perspective of a modern person who could lie in bed and watch tortoise mating shorts, it was boring enough to make him yawn.
Still, he had no major complaints.
The Spirit Demon Realm, where her cabin stood, was truly a beautiful place.
Safety wasn't an issue as long as Isolde was around.
Picking up a book from the study and flipping through its pages on the sunlit terrace made him feel like he was at a luxurious resort.
But more than anything, what made that time precious was simply that he enjoyed being with her.
"What should we do next? Do we really have to do anything...?"
"What's wrong with that? It's fun, isn't it?"
"Han-bin, you're annoying."
"You always end up enjoying it once we start."
On days when a warm spring breeze blew, he would drag a sleepy, disheveled Isolde out to the pond to fish.
Lying on the grass in the height of summer, gazing up at the night sky, learning the constellations of this world.
Harvesting ripe red apples in autumn and preserving a year's worth of apple jam.
On days when thick snowflakes piled up on the windowsill, huddling under a blanket by the fireplace, feeling each other's breath.
The more time he spent with her, the more he realized Isolde was nothing like the angelic figure of their first meeting.
The more he got to know her, the more inscrutable she became—unpredictable in thought, unfathomable in her way of thinking.
Eccentric, sometimes baffling, at times chillingly indifferent...
"Master, do you know what day it is today?"
"May 15th."
"That's right. Back in my hometown, it's called Teacher's Day. Here's a gift for you."
"Put it in that drawer. I'll check it later."
"..."
Han-bin liked that side of Isolde.
Even if she was different from others.
Even if she was someone with a certain emotional deficiency.
To Han-bin, she was a precious connection.
'Han-bin.'
'Yes.'
'Thank you for the necklace gift.'
He could also sense that Isolde regarded him as someone truly special.
And so, time flowed endlessly onward.
The farewell came suddenly one day, without any warning.
'Something has come up. We can no longer stay together.'
'May I ask the reason?'
'No.'
'Somehow, I thought you'd answer like that.'
'Pack your things. I've prepared a bag for you.'
As usual, Isolde sat at her desk, not turning around as she sent Han-bin off.
'Take care, my little one.'
It was years later when he saw her again—when Han-bin, having left the Secret Burial Squad, participated in the Great Subjugation.
Isolde, who had suddenly reappeared, proposed that he join this year's Red Moon.
Of course, he refused.
Though he missed his old comrades, 'Jurgen' still had unfinished business to attend to.
When her proposal was rejected, Isolde withdrew without protest.
Had she truly accepted it at face value?
Was the proposal just an excuse, and she simply wanted to see Han-bin after so long?
Or was there some other reason he couldn't fathom?
"I don't know."
Han-bin leaned back against the sofa, rubbing his temples.
Under his furrowed brow, memories of the past surged like a reflux.
'I'll be fine.'
'But...'
'Even if everyone forgets me... Please remember me, Captain.'
Viche had smiled brightly as she made that request.
'Why are you angry?'
'It was all for Han-bin's sake.'
'This way, we can protect you.'
Isolde, who had once scolded Han-bin like a furious flame, now stood before him like a chastised child, clutching at her sleeves and murmuring excuses.
He had thought those memories had faded with time.
He had assumed even the fragments of emotion had dulled by now—yet they rang so vividly in his ears, piercing his heart.
In the end, Han-bin could not forgive Isolde.
But neither could he hate her forever.
So he had postponed it indefinitely.
Yet the knots of fate are tangled so intricately—even if you tuck them away, they reappear before you when you least expect it.
Just as tightly knotted as before.
—Clatter.
The briefcase creaked open slightly, and a few tentacles wriggled out.
[Han-bin] [Sad?]
Peeking through the gap, Viche's gentle eyes gazed up at him.
"Beatrice, I..."
Before he could even finish—
Several tentacles stroked the back of his hand, as if to comfort him.
[It's okay] [Viche] [Happy]
No warmth radiated from the tentacles. And yet, they felt warm all the same.
After stroking his hand for a while, Viche—as soon as Jurgen's lips softened into a smile—wrote eagerly, as if she had been waiting.
[Viche] [Comfort] [Praise]
"Hm?"
[Candy]
Then, as if demanding tribute, she wiggled the curled tips of her tentacles.
Amused by the playful display, Jurgen finally laughed.
"How many do you want?"
[100!]
"Here you go."
[!!!!!!!!]
At the generous offering of candy, Viche's tentacles danced in shock and delight.
After her spat with Jurgen, Penelope returned to the Litchfield Hotel.
But just because she was in a bad mood didn't mean she neglected her duties.
This time, Penelope had resolved to participate in the Red Moon subjugation.
The Red Moon was an event that carried some risk, but it was also an opportunity to earn merit.
If Penelope, co-CEO of Y&P, distinguished herself, Y&P would benefit directly or indirectly.
However, the subjugation forces would be deployed across the entire Labyrinth Demon Realm.
Among them, only a limited number of positions offered the chance to earn notable achievements—and competition for those spots was always fierce.
She needed to secure a favorable position in advance.
And, as luck would have it, five of the Six Heroes were staying at this very hotel.
The Silent Sword Saint, Kailus.
The Queen of Monsters, Ravina.
The Witch of the Western Border, Isolde.
The Star Saintess, Stella.
Iron Mountain, Brok.
Heroes of the Great Subjugation, wielding not only immense personal power but also significant influence across various fields and regions.
As the hotel's owner, Penelope had the perfect opportunity—disguised as coincidence—to build connections with them.
First, I'll try talking to them, and if that doesn't work, I'm prepared to resort to bribery and solicitation.
It might seem a bit underhanded, but you have to make the most of every available resource.
At this crucial moment, poised before such an important juncture—
Penelope's mind was completely occupied by a thoroughly deflating memory.
The argument she'd had with Jurgen this morning.
"Haaah..."
Looking back, it was the first time they'd raised their voices at each other since becoming business partners.
To be precise, it wasn't so much an argument as Penelope unilaterally losing her temper and storming off...
But just as a driver panics when their car suddenly accelerates—
"..."
Penelope was equally flustered by the situation.
Let's examine the line that triggered this whole conflict:
'Isn't Serena also a partner?'
It's true that Serena is also a partner.
And Jurgen wasn't obligated to share all his secrets with Penelope either.
If she calmly thought about it, there was really no reason to throw a tantrum over that point.
The only thing she could clearly remember was feeling impatient.
But if asked 'Impatient about what?'—that was harder to answer.
In many ways, it was an irrational emotion.
"My head hurts..."
Penelope sprawled across the table like a stretching cat, resting her upper body on its surface.
Come to think of it, this was their first fight since becoming partners.
"Whatever."
Anyway, Jurgen was the one in the wrong first.
The word 'partner' wasn't something to be thrown around so casually.
"And he didn't even come to apologize first. How utterly infuriating."
Just as Penelope was grumbling to herself about this inexplicable dissatisfaction—
Click.
The sound of the suite door opening.
"Huh?"
That was strange.
This was Penelope's private Royal Suite that she used as her residence.
Even if there were guests, Manager Ritz or another staff member would have called on the internal line first.
"Jurgen? Is that you? Or...Serena?"
No answer came.
The darkness stretching beyond the mood lights felt suddenly thicker.
Penelope reached for her palette and gripped an alchemy catalyst.
It might have seemed like overkill, but ever since the Undertaker's attack, she'd always stayed prepared.
Even if someone opened the suite door, they'd have to pass through the living room and another room to reach this study.
Holding her breath, Penelope half-crawled into position, using the wall as cover.
"If you don't answer within three counts, I'll consider you an unwelcome guest with hostile intentions."
Still no response.
At this point, it definitely wasn't Jurgen or Serena.
"One...two..."
"Hello."
"KYAAAAAH!!!!"
At the peak of Penelope's tension—
Someone poked her shoulder from the side, startling her so badly her heart nearly leaped out.
Instinctively, she unleashed the 'Heat Ray' she'd loaded into her magic circuit toward the source.
But—
Whoooosh.
The magic that should have shot straight forward fizzled out as if doused with cold water.
The fully charged spell had been completely nullified.
"Did I scare you? Sorry."
Scared her?
Of course she was scared.
She was scared because someone suddenly poked her shoulder from behind.
She was scared by the fact that magic could be blocked like this.
But most of all—
She was scared because the person playing this un-funny prank was Isolde Blackwood, the Witch of the Western Border.
Just because you're one of the Six Heroes or the Witch of the Western Border doesn't mean you can visit people like this!
Why poke my shoulder, of all things? My heart almost jumped out!
She almost said as much, but—
Perhaps thanks to her hard-earned social skills from navigating treacherous high society:
"Good evening, Lady Blackwood. To what do I owe this visit? Is there anything unsatisfactory about your stay?"
Penelope's response was the epitome of professionalism.
Surprising even herself, she maintained perfect composure, responding with a businesslike smile.
And for good reason—
Among all the VIPs staying at the hotel, this was one she'd been paying particular attention to.
After all, wasn't she an alchemist too?
Beyond personal respect, sharing the same field meant they'd have much to discuss.
She'd been a key target in Penelope's plans to befriend the Six Heroes.
Now that she'd come to Penelope first, she had to make the most of this opportunity.
"Got a moment to talk?"
"Of course."
"And don't call me Blackwood—just Isolde. I don't like my family name."
First things first—Penelope went to fetch some cola.