Let's Plant Flower Seeds
Two months had passed since they'd smashed the Musashi Guild. Karen had come home, back to everyday life — though everyday life had picked up one rather entertaining sideshow.
"AAAAAHHH!"
A booming scream rolled in from outside. At the sound, Karen and Samsaek, who'd been sprawled on the sofa watching TV, sat up.
"They're at it again."
"Master, let's go."
Samsaek and Karen headed out with the ease of long practice and settled onto the newly built wooden platform. The blistering heat of summer had all but faded; a cool autumn breeze now brushed gently across their skin.
"Hup."
Karen tucked a plump pillow under his head beneath a wide parasol and rolled onto his side, facing the fields.
"Master! Here."
Samsaek, ever quick on the uptake, held out a strawberry latte he'd brought from the cafe, then fetched a caramel latte for himself and started slurping through the straw.
"Minjae? You out cold?"
The source of the screaming was Han Minjae. He had collapsed in front of a Mandrake, foaming at the mouth, and Oh Yeongjun was trying to wake him.
Two months had been plenty of time for a people-person like Han Minjae to start treating Oh Yeongjun like an older brother.
"Let's see..."
Yeongjun gave Minjae's cheek a sharp slap. It landed hard enough to make a juicy crack, but Minjae didn't so much as twitch.
"Yeah, he's out. All right — here comes the water."
Yeongjun twisted the tap on the hose lying beside them and blasted Minjae with a jet of ice-cold groundwater. The instant that subterranean chill soaked him, Minjae jerked awake with a violent start.
"Pwaaah! Hyung! I'm up!"
Soaked to the skin, Minjae waved his hands, scrambled back to his feet, then crouched again and laid his palms on the Mandrake.
"How did Karen do it again... He just pulled it right out."
He was practicing harvesting Mandrakes the way Karen did — putting them to sleep first. But after months of drills, Minjae still couldn't tell whether he was improving at all. And of course he couldn't.
"D-did I... do it...?"
Kuuuuuuu—
"AAAAHHH!"
It wasn't as if anyone was scoring him like an exam. He just dropped like a stone. How was he supposed to measure progress like that?
Yeongjun, who had already fled a safe distance, trudged back and started waking Minjae all over again.
"Mrow. Master, we betting again today?"
"Hmm..."
Watching the scene, Karen and Samsaek traded idle talk, already working their way through a bowl of mixed caramel-and-cheese popcorn.
"No. Something about today feels like he might actually pull it off."
The kid hadn't even dared try at first, but just now the Mandrake had been a fraction slower to react. Nobody else would have caught a difference that fine.
"He's spent two whole months on this one thing. That fast? How long did it take you, Master?"
"Me? Let's see... I just... did it?"
He'd heard the rumors that Mandrakes knocked people out. Then he'd simply stirred his mana around a little, and the thing had gone right to sleep.
"...Master, that's just unfair."
"For him, though, this is probably quick. Not like I actually taught him anything."
Teaching was a talent of its own. Unfortunately for Minjae, Karen couldn't empathize with the situation in the slightest.
"Then this Han Minjae fellow is doing pretty well, considering he got the worst teacher alive."
Karen had to give him that. Even if he'd wanted to teach mana, he had no idea how to explain any of it. He'd shown Minjae how he pulled a Mandrake once, sure — for all the good that had done.
"Easy. Easy. Feel the mana. Feel the Mandrake."
Drenched all over again, Minjae had gotten back up, set his hands on the plant, and drawn a long breath. He gathered himself and let his mana seep slowly into the Mandrake.
"Now!"
The Mandrake slipped shyly from the earth. Minjae squeezed his eyes shut against the scream that was surely about to split the air.
"...Huh?"
But he was fine. He cracked one eye open. The Mandrake lay quietly in his hands, fast asleep.
"I... I did it!!"
"Yeah! Minjae, congratulations!"
"Hyung! It's all thanks to you! Having you wake me with water every time, I got there way faster than I expected!"
Minjae threw his arms around Yeongjun and spun him in a circle. In a certain light, deciding to keep going until he pulled one no matter how many times he dropped was a completely unhinged idea — but if it worked, it worked.
"Mrow. He's actually doing it."
"He's a maniac, just in a different way. Good thing it's alchemy he's obsessed with."
Fainting was not, as movies and dramas would have it, a matter of rubbing your eyes and hopping back up. A sudden, forced blackout like that left you nauseous, dizzy, weak, and wrung out to the bone once you came around. And Minjae had been doing that for two months straight.
Could anyone really be that happy? Minjae didn't care in the slightest. He was bouncing around the field, drunk on joy.
"Those ones work even better, though, right?"
Every Mandrake Minjae had failed to harvest so far had gone to fertilizer for the other herbs — or else been eaten by Yeongjun and the others, who were now staring at the one in Minjae's hands with shining eyes.
"But Master, haven't those guys been looking really healthy lately? Their wives keep calling, too. They seem, I don't know... close."
"...A cat doesn't need to know that."
While Karen broke into a cold sweat over Samsaek's question, Minjae came jogging toward the platform, waving the Mandrake he'd pulled.
"Karen! I did it! What should I do with this?"
"Nice work. Handle it however you want."
"Ohhh... Master. You're not gonna eat it?"
"What exactly do you take me for? I told you, I don't eat much of that stuff."
"Mrow... then how come you sneak out to the fields at night sometimes?"
"...I'm checking on the crops. Place is huge. What if a wild animal gets in?"
"Hmmm..."
Samsaek eyed him with deep suspicion, but with no proof he let it go.
"Mrow. Come to think of it, the fields really have gotten big."
The barren lot where Samsaek had once slept was steadily turning into farmland — a joint production by Han Minjae and the two cafe employees. It had started when Yeongjun and his friend decided that, if they were going to exercise anyway, they might as well pick up a plow instead of going for a run. Sweat was sweat, right?
"Shall we get some fieldwork in today, too?"
"Hyungs! We pulled a Mandrake and everything — let's keep the energy going! I even bought makgeolli!"
"See, this kid gets it. And, uh, you didn't happen to..."
"Of course I did. I made scallion pancakes and crisp radish pickles, too. We'll eat together in a bit."
"Ahhhhh!"
The two of them shot Minjae a pair of enthusiastic thumbs-up and threw themselves into the fieldwork with gusto.
"...Are those guys planting a little too much, or is it just me?"
What had begun as a backyard patch from a single Mandrake root had kept spreading, until half the wide lot had become cultivated ground.
"They say it just kind of happened."
Yeongjun and his friend had been exercising and helping out, picking rocks from the soil and fussing with this and that, and somehow they'd ended up with extra land. Minjae had suggested trying other herbs while they were at it, since he needed them for experiments anyway. One plant after another had gone into the dirt, and here they were.
The three of them were hard at work when two figures waved from a distance and called toward Karen.
"Karen!"
"I've arrived as well, Karen."
It was Chaerin, a mask and a hat pulled low over her face, and Director Kang, as always in an immaculate suit.
"Oh? Noona! You came? Director Kang, you're here too?"
"I ran into Ms. Lee Chaerin on the way."
"I wanted to see you so badly, but I haven't been able to come by. Those damn reporters... they're still tailing me."
Ever since that press conference, journalists had been tracking Chaerin's every move. She'd only just shaken them off again today. That even an S-Rank Hunter had to go all-out to lose them said something impressive about the press.
"You dyed your hair."
The crimson that had been one of Chaerin's trademarks was now black.
"This is my original color. People were picking me out by the hair."
"Yeah, that tracks."
"Not like I'll be getting covered in blood much anymore. Fine by me. Hey, you three! Get over here and eat."
The three in the field came over, and Chaerin unpacked what she'd brought.
"Letter from Jaehyeong. Read it later. And booze!"
"We've got makgeolli, noona."
"Makgeolli? Fieldwork calls for otherworld liquor! Barely even gives you a hangover."
Chaerin lined the platform with bottles that ran anywhere from a few hundred to several thousand dollars apiece.
"Ahhh... that's our noona."
"Do people usually eat this kind of food with liquor this fancy?"
"If it tastes good, that's all that matters. And what's wrong with scallion pancakes and pickled radish? Or just chew some Mandrake with it. You can't buy this stuff for love or money."
They sat on the platform, pouring liquor into the wide bowls meant for makgeolli, and ate scallion pancakes and crunchy radish pickles as they drank. With almost no buildings nearby, the wide-open view only made the drinks taste better. The crisp snap of radish between their teeth was wonderfully refreshing.
"How's your brother? If he's writing letters, he must be doing a lot better."
"He is. He's in rehab, so Jeong-hyeon's stuck to his side. Once he's recovered, they both say they want to pay you back properly. But I've been getting a lot of inquiries from another direction."
"Hm? What kind of inquiries?"
"Jaehyeong, and Lisa's little brother — we treated him too, and he woke up from a vegetative state. People have been asking if I've got something."
A single patient waking from a vegetative state would have been worldwide news. Two of them, in such a short span, was more than enough to set people talking.
"I told them I don't. Then the patients' families started calling. I told them I don't know anything, of course. You're what matters most."
If a corporation had come sniffing around for profit, Chaerin would have sworn them out the door. But she couldn't bring herself to be that cold when families asked with tears in their eyes. She knew that feeling too well.
"...That's a little heartbreaking."
Minjae looked pained as he listened. Mandrakes were scattered right in front of them — they were even eating them as a side dish with the radish pickles at this very moment.
"Karen, maybe we could..."
"No. It's a hassle, and it'll draw flies."
Karen cut him off before he could finish, his voice flat and final. He was satisfied enough as things stood. Extra trouble was the last thing he wanted.
"Then what would you say to establishing a foundation? An incorporated association would require your name, so we create a foundation and operate it anonymously."
"Huh?"
While Minjae sat there looking deflated, Director Kang spoke up from beside him.
"We would charge according to means. Some of the patients have a great deal of money, so you wouldn't spend a single coin of your own."
"Hmmm..."
"I can harvest the Mandrakes as practice."
"We'll help too. Farmwork's perfect for working up a sweat."
"I'll lend you my name. I'm retired, but Lee Chaerin still carries weight."
With everyone saying their piece, Karen closed his eyes for a moment and thought it over.
Is this actually a hassle for me? Not really. Well... if that's the case, I don't mind. They're the ones who want to do it.
"Do it. Don't overdo it. Especially you, Han Minjae. You push too hard and get caught, I'll burn the whole field. Only as much as you can handle."
"Of course."
Han Minjae swallowed hard. That was not a figure of speech. The Karen he knew would torch the place without a second's hesitation.
At Karen's go-ahead, Director Kang's face lit up. Not a single coin of the money would come to him, and his already crushing workload was only about to get heavier. Even so, doing something good in Karen's name made him glad.
"Ordinarily a foundation has to operate within its stated purpose, and turning a profit requires approval, but... these days, none of that applies."
The guilds had rewritten the laws around foundations to suit themselves. There were combat-personnel caps by rank, so they quietly processed awakened as retired and slotted them into foundations. And under the banner of "social contribution," they got up to all sorts of things.
"I'll handle all the paperwork. What would you like to name the foundation?"
"Hmm..."
Karen glanced around, and his eyes landed on the cafe sign they'd hung just yesterday.
"You put the sign up."
"Yes. My family agonized over it for ages. We only settled on it yesterday."
It had been Oh Yeongjun's biggest headache of late. He'd even visited a renowned naming consultant, but nothing had felt right, and the extra deliberation had pushed the whole thing later than planned.
"Then let's go with that. I like it."
Beside the name on the cafe sign, a single beautiful flower had been painted.
"It's perfect. Yellow Dandelion."