The Price of a Stolen Life
The questions were endless, but none mattered as much as this one. How to remove the marble, what toll it would take on her body once it was gone… all of it.
Yet even setting those concerns aside, Yeo-won wanted nothing more than a life free of ghosts.
She was desperate enough to accept any risk.
Even if that risk meant surrendering an entire eye.
If it meant never having to see them again, losing one eye would be a cheap price to pay.
Whatever her ancestors had done was none of her business. The one who had actually stolen the marble had died long ago, and it was unlikely he had summoned her here simply to receive an apology.
While her thoughts spiraled, his hand caught her chin and tilted it upward. As her head tilted back, her eyes met Shin-wol’s. He was smiling with an unreadable expression.
“Yes. The spirit eyes opened because of the marble’s power. If the marble is removed, you should no longer be able to see them.”
Her eyes sparkled at his words. The ordinary life she had longed for was right in front of her. She was about to beg him to take it out immediately when his beautiful lips curved into a graceful arc.
“But if that happens, you will die.”
“What?”
The hope that had lit her eyes vanished in an instant. Shin-wol brushed his thumb beneath her eye and spoke in a low, resonant voice.
“The marble is not organic matter. It is a mass of yoki. The only time it can take physical form and leave its host is when that host dies.”
“B-but it’s in my eye…”
Her voice trembled helplessly.
“Did Cheong-sil tell you that? Spiritual energy does gather unusually in your left eye, but it has not formed a solid shape. Look. No matter where you touch, my spiritual energy is flowing into you, is it not?”
His cold hand slid from the corner of her eye to her cheek, then down to her lips.
“The spiritual energy that has accumulated over several hundred years is leaking out uncontrollably. That is why all those worthless spirits keep swarming to you.”
There was a strange intensity in the way his fingers rubbed her lips.
“At this point, it would not be wrong to say that your body has become the marble itself.”
Shin-wol’s voice remained even in pitch and low in tone, making it strangely soothing to listen to. Perhaps that was why the gravity of his words refused to fully sink in.
Yeo-won blinked rapidly, struggling to organize the dizzying flood of information.
If removing the marble would kill her, then why had he clearly said he wanted it back?
What did that mean? That he would take it even if it meant killing her?
A bolt of fear struck her.
The being before her was not human but a spiritual creature, and she was the descendant of the one who had stolen his marble.
There was nothing strange about the hand currently caressing her face suddenly wrapping around her throat.
Yet for some reason, even as their eyes met, she had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t truly looking at her.
Yeo-won bit her lip hard, trying to suppress the rising anxiety.
No. If that was the only way, he wouldn’t have kept me alive this long. There must be another reason. What is it?
Her heart pounded wildly. It beat so loudly she wanted to cover her ears.
She swallowed dryly and racked her brain desperately. One thought suddenly flashed through her mind.
She wanted more time to consider it, but there was none. She opened her mouth at once.
“…So what you’re saying is, if I die, the marble disappears too.”
His eyebrows twitched faintly. For a brief moment, his eyes darkened in a way that sent violent chills racing across her skin.
“Is that a threat?”
The voice seemed to burrow straight into her brain. Yeo-won swallowed again.
“I’d prefer you not take it that way. Please tell me the method. You must have brought me here for a reason.”
The air pressure around them seemed to drop. Breathing became difficult, and a wave of cold swept over her.
“And if I say there is no method, you intend to die? How convenient that must be.”
Yeo-won recognized the feeling. It was the same one she had felt the first time she met him on Mount Inwol.
“Humans always try to escape by running toward death. They believe peace awaits them at the end.”
His hand slid down from her chin to her neck. When she flinched at the way his fingers traced her nape, he let out a mocking laugh.
“You cry over a mere fall and flinch in pain when your wrist is grabbed. Do you truly believe you could endure death?”
At his taunting words, Yeo-won remembered the days she had been chased by ghosts. The memory of sobbing hideously in terror and begging him for help brought a rush of belated shame.
After showing him such a pathetic side, it was understandable that he would say such things.
But she had never once spoken of death lightly.
Especially not after experiencing the deaths of her family members multiple times. She knew all too well how lonely, desolate, and terrifying that word truly was.
Yeo-won clenched her teeth. Her eyes burned, yet she stared straight at Shin-wol with them wide open.
“I’m not running away. It’s just that there’s no other choice.”
She had seen ghosts for as long as she could remember. When she spoke of them, people treated her like she was crazy. Even when she stayed silent, no one approached the girl who kept flinching at empty air.
Even after she grew older and learned to ignore the spirits, she could never stay close to anyone for long.
Because she couldn’t remain in crowded places for any length of time.
She had kept living only because she lacked the courage to die. But if even the ghosts now threatened her life, she no longer had any reason to go on.
The Shin-wol before her was her only hope for the normal life she craved.
She was certain there had to be a way. Otherwise, there would be no reason to keep her alive.
She believed he had saved her from the pursuing spirits and brought her here solely to protect his marble.
If he could simply kill her and retrieve it, why go through all that trouble?
Killing her the moment they met would have been the fastest method. Yet even now, Shin-wol had not killed her. So her reasoning had to be correct.
But if, by some slim chance, she was wrong…
Instead of finishing the thought, Yeo-won squeezed her eyes shut.
“If I have to keep living like this, then right now…”
The rest of her words came out so softly they were nearly swallowed by the sound of falling petals.
No answer followed. The silence stretched on without the rustle of clothing or the whisper of wind. Yeo-won kept her lips pressed tightly together and remained quiet.
In that brief moment, she thought of her grandmother.
If she died here, what would become of her? She hoped the old woman would live a long, healthy life somehow.
She regretted not writing a will in advance. Even though her savings were meager, she wished she could have left them for her grandmother.
How much time had passed while she entertained such useless thoughts? Surprisingly, it was Shin-wol who broke the silence first.
“Hah.”
The sharp sound could have been a laugh or a sigh. That tiny noise, which almost resembled the wind, struck Yeo-won like thunder.
Wondering if she had misheard, she lifted her head. Shin-wol was smiling as if something delighted him.
“No. That’s not it.”
His tone was light and melodic, almost like singing.
His face drew closer until their foreheads touched. Then he slowly rubbed his brow against hers.
Startled by the unfamiliar contact, Yeo-won flinched and tried to pull away, but the arm wrapped around her waist held her in place.
“There is something far more important to you than your own life, is there not?”
“…”
“Your parents died early, leaving only an old woman as blood kin. Your grandmother, I presume?”
It felt as if a stone had dropped heavily inside her chest. When Yeo-won looked at him in confusion, wondering if he could read her thoughts, Shin-wol chuckled softly.
“She has been clinging to life with a fate that should have ended long ago. But even that will not last much longer.”
“…What are you saying?”
Her voice shook faintly. Despite her pitiful reaction, Shin-wol continued with a beautiful smile, unconcerned.
“It means your grandmother’s lifespan had already ended, yet she has been sustained by the spiritual energy of my marble.”
With just those two sentences, Yeo-won’s mind went completely blank. Her vision blurred and her entire body—from fingertips to toes—turned ice-cold.
“…If I die, Grandmother will die too?”
“That’s right.”
She wanted to shout that he was lying, to demand what nonsense he was spouting, but the sight of his innocent, glass-like eyes left her speechless.
That made it all the more cruel.
His casual tone, his transparent eyes that seemed incapable of falsehood—everything pierced her heart like a dagger.
Countless emotions swirled before shattering into black dust.
Her vision gradually grew hazy. The tears she had been holding back fell like beads.
A hollow laugh escaped her without warning.
It would have been better if he really were an evil spirit.
It would have been better if she could have thought, like an evil spirit, that her grandmother was none of her concern.
Her own lingering attachment that prevented her from doing so felt so stupid that an empty laugh slipped out.
Wiping the tears streaming down her cheeks, Yeo-won spoke as if she had come to a decision.
“If I stay alive, can Grandmother become healthy again?”
“Who knows. She is already a human whose allotted time has run out. It would not be strange for her to die at any moment.”
He spoke as calmly as if reading from a book. His tone held no consideration whatsoever, and it made her shrink back instinctively. Still, she tried her hardest to think rationally.
“You just said she has been sustained by the spiritual energy inside the marble. That means if I give her spiritual energy, she can become healthy again.”
At her desperate expression, he gave a small laugh. Just moments ago she had seemed ready to throw her life away without hesitation, yet now she burned with such fierce determination for the sake of one blood relative. It was almost comical.
“So you intend to give spiritual energy to your grandmother? You cannot even control the energy you already possess, yet you speak so boldly.”
His low tone seemed to say she should know her place. Yeo-won’s expression darkened once more.
“I… probably can’t do it.”
At her weakly spoken words, Shin-wol turned his head.
As he gazed at the apricot blossoms scattering endlessly across the garden, boredom flickered through his eyes.
He had considered using the old woman as leverage, but now even that felt tiresome.
His eyes grew chillingly cold.
He was just considering killing the small girl before him and absorbing whatever spiritual energy remained when Yeo-won suddenly grabbed the front of his robes with surprising strength.
“But you can do it.”
Her eyes blazed with an intensity that seemed impossible for someone who had been speaking of death only moments before. They sparkled brightly in the darkness.