My Niece Is Furious
"Uncle? I don't have an uncle."
Impatience bled through the little one's voice from behind the door. I'd hoped to find my sister here, or at least my brother-in-law, but the only presence I could sense inside the house was the kid's.
My heart was pounding harder than made any sense.
"Don't you remember Sejun? Your uncle used to change your diapers when you were a baby."
A lie, of course. I'd been nothing but a high schooler when the boy was born, and neither my sister nor my brother-in-law had ever saddled me with diaper duty. But then, no one ever remembers the diaper years anyway.
I felt a twinge of guilt for deceiving a ten-year-old nephew, but it was the only idea I had. I certainly couldn't tear the door off its hinges and force my way inside.
"…Are you really my uncle?"
"I am. So open up. Uncle brought lots of goodies, too."
Truthfully, the only things in the bundle I'd packed away from the Blood Cult were elixirs—but who knew? To the right palate, even an elixir might have its flavor.
After a long hesitation, that was the moment he finally opened the door. My nephew's face peeked out through the gap, pale and terrified.
I stepped inside, ruffling his hair gently. A stale smell of mildew hung in the damp air. The warm home of my sister that lived in my memory had all but become an abandoned house.
"Sejun, where did your sister—sorry, your mom—go?"
I asked, unable to hide my unease.
"…Mom's gone."
My heart plummeted. I hoped it was some kind of misunderstanding, but the boy's expression was nothing but dark.
"Then… your dad?"
"…H-he's gone too."
In that instant, a cold current of qi began to swirl in the depths of my dantian.
Thirty years. I had endured that wretched world of Murim clinging to nothing but the hope of seeing my sister again—and this was all I got.
As hollow despair and fury blurred my vision red, I saw someone who had apparently been running toward the house for some time now burst through the door.
"Who are you?"
The girl demanded in a sharp voice. Short-cropped hair, somewhat unusual clothing—but identifying her wasn't difficult. The glaring, wary face staring me down was a mirror image of my sister as a child.
Though, mind you, my sister never went for the knife right off the bat.
I couldn't hide my bitterness as I looked at my niece clutching a sharp dagger.
"Answer me. Who are you? Did Hyuljo send you?"
At my words, Seoyeon's eyes wavered violently.
"It's your uncle. Don't you remember?"
I said it to the flustered girl. Sejun had been too young to know me, but Seoyeon was different—she'd been eight when I left. Somewhere in her memory, faint as it might be, I had to exist.
"Uncle? You're my uncle?"
"…Yeah."
Faced with her piercing glare, I found I had nothing to say. It wasn't that she hadn't recognized me. If she truly hadn't, there would have been no way to explain the hatred brimming in her eyes.
"It's okay. Your uncle's back now, so it's going to be okay."
"Shut up. You come back out of nowhere and now everything's 'okay'? You should've just died! Mom spent every single day circling the gates trying to find you until the day she passed. Dad was no different!"
Seoyeon's scream carved a hollow through my chest.
Because if it had been my sister, she surely would have done even more.
"I'm sorry. Uncle will repay that debt, I swear—over and over, until it's paid in full. So for now… put the knife down."
The unexpected news stung my eyes hot, but I couldn't afford to show weakness in front of my young niece.
"Leave. Just go. We don't have an uncle. Never did, never will."
But Seoyeon's voice stayed cold as ice.
"Sis, so is that person really our uncle?"
Seojun, who had been quietly listening to us, asked—and Seoyeon, caught off guard, couldn't find an answer.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Then it happened.
The door of the shabby old apartment where my sister had lived shuddered as if it were about to come apart.
"Hey. I know everyone's in there. Open up while I'm asking nicely."
An unpleasant voice boomed from the other side of the front door. At the sound of it, Seoyeon's face went white in an instant.
She pushed Seojun behind her back and fixed me with a fierce glare.
"Get in that room and keep quiet. If you don't want to die."
I simply nodded at her words. Not because I was afraid of dying.
I just wanted to see with my own two eyes exactly what kind of hell my niece and nephew had been living in.
I stayed in the room, but grasping the situation outside wasn't difficult.
Several men had burst into the house wearing dirt-caked dress shoes. They hadn't even bothered to take off shoes caked with filth before trudging into my sister's home.
"Seoyeon. Did you forget today's the day interest is due?"
A smarmy voice rang out. Evidently, Seoyeon's coldness wasn't reserved for me alone.
"…My dungeon clearing settlement. You're the ones who haven't paid it. I have to get paid before I can worry about interest, don't I?"
"Oh, that? Take that up with the department. Why are you telling me? Me, I'm just here to collect your money."
"You sons of bitches. You're doing this to me on purpose, aren't you?"
At her words, the man just kept snickering and spewing nonsense.
"Aigoo, such a foul mouth. That's what happens when a girl your age goes running off into gates, no? Why put yourself through all that suffering with a pretty face like that, huh? Just earn our young master's favor and it's hardship over, happiness from here on out."
"…Go tell that bastard Oh Sejun this: I'd sooner die than let that happen. Not for one second."
Hiding my presence in the back room, I was suppressing a heat that shot straight to the tips of my hair. From just the scraps of conversation I'd caught, I could piece together the situation well enough.
Then my eyes caught a photo hanging on one wall. The wedding picture of my sister and brother-in-law, exactly as it existed in my memory, still hung there.
Don't worry about me, Sis. I'll take good care of the kids.
"Really? Well, do as you like. But since you can't pay the interest, we'll be taking your little brother with us."
"What?"
"Debt's debt. Can't do much with a boy, but… ah, right. Sell him off to a mine somewhere and that should cover a few months' interest, give or take."
"You bastards. Take one more step and I'll kill you!"
"S-Sis!"
Bang.
I threw open the door and stepped out. There was nothing left worth hearing, and no patience left for enduring it.
"…What the—fuck. You scared me. We've got a guest?"
The punk with the greasy, pomaded face looked startled for a moment, then soon flashed a fishy smirk. Presumably emboldened by the hulking thugs behind him.
"Fuck. Just stand there and keep quiet."
Coarse profanity spilled from Seoyeon's mouth. Apparently my once-adorable niece had been through enough in those ten years without me that she swore these words like she breathed.
"Who the hell is this gigolo-looking bastard? Wait, don't tell me—this is why our young master's been getting the cold shoul—"
Bang.
Before he could even finish.
I moved, seized his face in my hand, and slammed him straight into the wall.
Crunch.
The concrete shattered, his skull buried deep in the rubble. The grease slicking my palm was unpleasant, but it beat listening to another word out of his mouth.
"He's— he's insane."
"You— you son of a bitch, who the hell do you think we are?"
Seeing the greasy man embedded in the wall, the big bruisers finally found their voices. They fumbled knives out from their belts and growled belated threats, which was almost comical.
Apparently it wasn't just the Chinese who pulled steel the moment they got rattled.
I'd lost count of how many times now I'd watched fools draw blades without a word of warning.
"Too loud."
I extended my arm lightly toward the idiots standing frozen in place. The knives in their hands were sucked into my palm as if pulled by a magnet.
Neunggong Seopmul—the art of plucking objects across empty space.
Faced with a technique beyond anything they'd imagined, the thugs' faces drained white.
"…I-is that magic?"
The bruisers weren't the only ones stunned. Seoyeon's trembling voice reached me from where she'd been watching.
I crumpled the weapons in my hand like sticks of taffy and dropped the twisted metal on the floor. Seoyeon might manage, but a blade would be bad for young Seojun's tender sensibilities.
"Seoyeon. How much do they claim you owe?"
"…Five thousand in principal. With the interest, it's already past two hundred million. It's an insane loan-shark racket."
Her voice shook as she answered. The resentment toward me was still there, but I could guess how crushing that mountain of debt had been for a girl of eighteen.
Two hundred million won. It was certainly a large sum, but not an impossible one. The things I'd brought back from the Blood Cult were treasures so rare they defied pricing. No matter how much the world had changed, their value would hold.
Not that I had any intention of meekly handing them over to scum like this.
"You lot. Did you say Hyuljo Guild?"
At my question, the big men began avoiding my eyes. They weren't fools; even they must have realized by now that they'd kicked the wrong hornet's nest.
And yet, astonishingly, one of them turned out to be completely oblivious.
"Th-that's right! C-can you handle the consequences of this? If our guild moves against you, you and those brats—"
Thwack.
I kicked the lump of metal that had been a knife a moment ago. It shot across the room and buried itself dead center in the face of the man spewing his nonsense.
"Deliver the message. I'll be paying a visit to this house myself, very soon, over the matter of this debt."
At my words, the thugs with at least a shred of sense swallowed hard and began hauling the greasy idiot—and the other fool—toward the door.
"Oh, and make sure you tell that 'young master' of yours, loud and clear. I'll be collecting for daring to lay eyes on Seoyeon, too."
My killing intent sent them scrambling out the door in a cold sweat, pale as ghosts.
I turned slowly and looked at Seoyeon and Seojun. My niece and nephew's lives had been even rougher than I'd imagined.
"…What exactly are you?"
Seoyeon asked, dagger still in hand. Young Seojun just hid behind her back, eyes wide as saucers.
"Your uncle, like I've said how many times now?"
"…Th-the uncle I knew was just an ordinary student. He couldn't do… magic or anything."
I gave a bitter smile. The kids had been through their own trials—and I, for my part, had been through more than I could count.
"I had my reasons too. But no matter what anyone says, I'm your uncle—and from now on, no one is going to hurt you ever again."
I unwrapped my bundle and tossed a few gold ingots onto the floor. I didn't know the going rate for gold, but it should be enough to put out the immediate fire.
"Wh-who said I'd spend your money? I don't need it. Get out!"
I let out a sigh as Seoyeon shrieked at me.
Long road ahead.
Winning over my glaring niece, it seemed, was going to be several times harder than sweeping all of Murim.