Chapter 216
Chapter 216
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 216
Chapter Title: Episode 72. What a Guardian Needs (1)
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About two weeks had passed since that day. Yoo Ji-tae spent his nights with Bom. He couldn't leave Clone 2 and the witch alone together without protection.
Clone 2's extreme attitude of wanting to erase the exclamation point between his legs rather than shrink his body had prompted the witch to tempt him mentally.
If he could resist that temptation, the witch would help Yoo Ji-tae—and the alliance—as planned.
Night.
After the kids had fallen asleep.
As Yoo Ji-tae entered Bom's room and naturally rested his knee on the bed. Bom, who had claimed the center, refused to make space.
"Scoot over a bit."
"No. Don't come closer."
He asked, puzzled by Bom's words.
"Why."
"Just because."
"Just because?"
"Yeah."
"That's not a thing."
Even so, when he pushed closer, Bom weakly raised her arms to block his chest.
"What now."
"Umm..."
She shook her head. Her face looked scared for some reason.
The bed wasn't too small by any means, and until now, they'd shared it without issue. There was no reason to be conscious of each other anyway, so it had felt natural. But today was different.
Kid. What's going on with you.
He pondered Bom's decision-making process. It must have led to some misunderstanding.
Bom cautiously asked back.
"Why?"
"Huh?"
"Do you have to come...?"
"No. Forget it."
Bom's thoughts were hard to read. Besides, what he needed to do from now on didn't require her spot next to him anyway.
He pulled his leg off the bed and sat in the chair beside it, taking Bom's hand. Then he shared the situation with Clone 2.
Sitting in the chair, he looked down at the bed. In the moonlight filtering through the darkness, his gaze was drawn to Bom's face. Strangely, his eyes kept drifting there.
Thank goodness for the distance. He fixed his gaze on the sky outside the window.
Thanks to that, Clone 2—the young Yoo Ji-tae from his childhood—could spend the night with Witch Valentine without incident.
"You'll spend the night, but don't lie down with me...?"
The witch furrowed her brow. Clone 2 nodded with a relaxed expression. She realized this request from the boy was an extension of their 'mutual agreement'.
"Then on the last day, I'll hold you while we sleep."
"Hold me, you say?"
"Yes. Skin to skin."
Skin to skin. At the blunt expression, Clone 2 recoiled in shock.
Bom looked flustered too. But she quickly composed herself and replied calmly.
"Got it."
So the witch sat leaning against Clone 2, holding the child's hand through the night. She was the superhuman among superhumans. Sitting still like that was no discomfort at all.
It was a bit deflating, though.
But there were no limits on petting his head. The witch reached out to stroke the head of the lying boy.
"Have you ever stroked someone else's head besides mine?"
"Why do you ask?"
"It feels nice."
Her grip tightened slightly.
Grasping Clone 2's short hair. Without warning, the witch suddenly leaned in close to his face.
"That bothers me a little. You think I'm doing this just because I like you?"
Clone 2 suddenly stiffened. More than when she'd boldly made skin contact. '...?' The witch occasionally sensed minor doubts from the boy's subtle expressions or actions.
"Ah... Sorry. I just meant your touch feels natural."
"Hmmm... I'll let it slide. What do you think would happen?"
"Pardon? Ah, yeah, probably."
"..."
"Right? When was it? Who?"
"Hm... It was a long time ago."
Clone 2 spoke to the witch.
"About 40 years ago. I had a dog I was raising."
The witch began to talk. Clone 2 listened quietly.
"A dog? A small, cute puppy?"
And he kept adding questions to keep her talking without pause.
"No. A human."
"Oh..."
"Small and cute, though."
Bom naturally opened the witch's heart.
The lonely witch found joy in sharing her stories.
And so, for the next two weeks, Yoo Ji-tae and Bom spent their nights listening to the witch's tales.
"The kid's a great listener."
Thanks to that, they finally succeeded in opening the witch's heart.
Now, just once. When Yoo Ji-tae wanted it, she would use dimensional magic that only she could.
They had pulled it off.
After listening to the old lady's chatter all night, morning came.
But there was no time to rest.
The next morning.
As Floating Island Hate Ling passed over the skies above the Indian Ocean region, Yoo Ji-tae returned to Room 301 after solo grocery shopping early in the morning.
That morning's menu was steak. Because Gaeul had said she wanted some. He roughly sliced the meat, seasoned it haphazardly with salt, pepper, and oil. Then he fried it in a pan coated with butter.
Beef is beef. Even roughly cooked, a good smell wafted out. As the savory aroma of grilled meat spread through Room 301, a door burst open from down the hall. There stood Gaeul in her pajamas.
"Whoa. This smell is insane~~."
Gaeul, her face imprinted with bed marks like a squished rice cake, grinned and dashed to the kitchen.
"Meat?"
"Meat."
"Meat meat?"
"Beef."
"Ehehehe— Did you buy it because I asked?!"
"Yeah."
"Uncle, you're seriously the coolest!"
As Gaeul banged forks on the table like drums, Bom, Yeoreum, and Winter trickled into the kitchen, drawn by the noise.
Gaeul spotted Bom and her eyes went wide. It had been ten whole days since they'd seen each other.
"Huh? Huh? Unniiii!"
Gaeul beamed and ran to hug Bom. Bom smiled and hugged her back.
"What! When did you get back, Unni?! You feeling okay?"
"Yeah. Sorry. Were you worried?"
"Yeah yeah. Oh..."
Then Gaeul glanced at Yeoreum pulling milk from the fridge. She cupped her hand to her mouth like a neighborhood auntie and whispered to Bom.
"You two made up...?"
"Yeah."
"For real...? How...?"
Bom stroked Gaeul's head and smiled.
"I prayed. Said sorry."
"Huh? Why?"
"It was my fault."
"Aah..."
Had they really made up? Room 301 had been tense like thin ice for days, so Gaeul watched them nervously. Then her eyes met Winter's, who seemed to be observing the scene with Yeoreum and Bom just as tensely.
Yeoreum speared a piece of half-cooked, still-red steak and held it up.
"Hm. Steak's gotta be rare."
"That's way too underdone."
"What're you talking about. I eat raw meat anyway."
"Oh, right."
"You sometimes forget you're a dragon."
"Yeah."
"Hey. I've always wondered—what does your clan normally eat then?"
"Hm, broccoli?"
Yeoreum and Bom burst out laughing.
...Whoa. They really did make up!
Gaeul and Winter felt relieved. Then Winter, suddenly curious, whispered to Gaeul.
"...Unni."
"Yeah?"
"...Bwoccoli. What's that?"
"Oh. It's round. And fluffy. And tastes bad...!"
She had no idea. Winter imagined it.
Round. Fluffy. Tastes bad.
In Winter's mind, round was a ball.
Fluffy was a puppy.
Tastes bad was fermented skate.
Combining them: a ball made of clumped fermented skate with fur. ...Ew. Feels gross. Winter asked again.
"...More?"
"It's green."
"...?"
Green brought Bom to mind first. Winter got confused looking at Bom's hair until Gaeul showed her a picture on her watch.
"...Oh."
After seeing the broccoli photo, Winter sneakily glanced at Bom. Then their eyes met.
"What is it, Winter?"
"...Nothing."
"Doesn't look like you. Don't compare."
"...Ah."
Gaeul burst out laughing again.
But the table wasn't entirely harmonious.
There was one subtly off vibe.
As Yoo Ji-tae reached with his fork for a piece of meat, Yeoreum snatched it a beat faster and popped it in her mouth.
When he went for another, she stole that one too. After a few repeats, Yoo Ji-tae looked like he was playing fork limbo.
"Mind if I have some?"
"What'd I do?"
Yoo Ji-tae picked up his fork again, and so did Yeoreum.
He set it down, and she did too.
"Let me eat some meat."
Yeoreum scowled.
Soon as he took a bite, she ignored the tray his fork had touched. Like it had fallen in a sewer.
"Duhyong...?"
"...?"
Even slow Gaeul and Winter could tell something was wrong.
But Yoo Ji-tae said nothing. Yeoreum didn't escalate. So the breakfast table looked fairly peaceful on the surface.
For Gaeul and Winter, that was enough.
"..."
Yoo Ji-tae glanced at Yeoreum a few times, but she avoided his eyes. To him, she seemed to be deliberately ignoring him.
He was curious why, but decided to leave it be for now. The Red clan was always willful like that. Once her mood improved, it'd sort itself out. That's what he thought.
Today was September 11th. The day the Great War ended. A global holiday. All facilities in Lair and Winter's elementary school were closed.
The kids gathered in the dorm for the first time in ages, playing board games with the Guardian. During Jenga, the Guardian felt a bit wronged.
Crash—
"Whoa. Janitor uncle's out!"
"...Idiot."
"Facedown, you iron rice bowl."
Thud thud thud!! The Guardian took hits to his backplate. The kids were dragons, after all, so even the metal slab of his back registered pain.
Grrr...! Groaning, the Guardian said.
"This is unfair, young ladies."
"Why?"
"It's not fair. My hands are blunt."
The Guardian held out his hand. At 235cm tall, his hands matched—huge, with metal gauntlets. Thick iron plates topped with spikes. Utterly unfit for Jenga.
"Crying fair when you're sitting there. If it's unfair, take off the gloves."
"Ooh? Do it, uncle! Take off your helmet!"
"...Oh."
Red eyes flickered.
"Pardon?"
The kids, bored of Jenga, eyed a new game. Come to think of it, the janitor had never taken off his clothes, right?
Armor was his default. But now the kids wondered what was underneath.
Soon, all but Bom piled on, tugging at the Guardian's helmet and armor.
"N-no. Wait... Hold on..."
He couldn't hurt the kids, nor remove his skin-tight armor. The Guardian sweated bullets for a while.
Meanwhile, Yoo Ji-tae, not joining the fun, watched the chick.
Pp iyung, the chick dozing with bobs, cracked his eyes at the commotion outside.
He shook his big head. Then heaved his hefty body toward the far side of Gaeul's room.
Now he could float with light wing flaps using mana. The giant chick gazed at the distant view outside the window.
Yoo Ji-tae noted the chick's gaze.
And listened to its mutter.
"Pp iyung pp iyung..."
That evening.
"Unni unni. Do you know how tough it's been without you?"
"Huh? Oh. Sorry. Want me to teach you again today?"
Gaeul headed out of the dorm with Bom to learn healing magic.
"Hey. Let's go do 'that' too."
"...That? Oh."
Winter and Yeoreum left for the training grounds for anger management training.
Left alone, Yoo Ji-tae watched Gaeul's room. When the chick sneaked open her closet, his gaze sharpened.
The chick carefully nudged aside Gaeul's haphazardly piled clothes with its beak.
There lay her untouched first-year magic textbook from months ago. It was huge, and when the chick pushed it aside, a round hole appeared from behind it.
A hole meticulously pecked out by the chick.
A skill that'd make the Count of Monte Cristo weep.
Pp iyung squeezed in. Then shot off somewhere like an arrow.
Yoo Ji-tae stood.
The chick's mutter that day was different from usual.
— Not much time left...
The time was approaching.
Yoo Ji-tae had already figured it all out.
He followed the waddling chick far ahead.
The chick entered the 'Closed Zone' and headed to Sector C0-47. The site of the old research institute. Once home to the mine dwellers, but empty since Wei Lian's death.
The chick wiggled its big rear as it walked. Over buildings. Over walls. Down underground passages to somewhere.
A sight there that would horrify the Closed Zone's administrator awaited Yoo Ji-tae.