Hunger Is Far More Terrifying
"Grandpa! What are you going to buy me for my birthday?"
"Haha! You little rascal, what do you want?"
"A robot! Buy me a toy robot!"
A dingy semi-basement room steeped in winter chill. The solitary, dust-caked window could only be reached by climbing atop the desk, hauling up a cardboard box, and stretching as high as little tiptoes could manage. Beyond that narrow pane of glass, an endless stream of feet—large and small, shuffling and striding—constituted the entire world Yeon-woo knew.
"All right, all right. If my grandson wants it, of course I'll buy it! Come along, let's go pick out a toy!"
"Whoa! Grandpa, you're the greatest!"
A toy...
Yeon-woo had never known what a robot was. But seeing how ecstatic that boy had sounded, she simply assumed it must be something extraordinarily delicious.
Grumble.
It had been half a month since her mother walked out the door and vanished. Yeon-woo was far too young to cook anything for herself, let alone pick the lock and venture out into the world.
I'm hungry.
I want to eat a toy too. If I had a grandfather, would he give me one to eat? I wonder if it tastes good.
Grumble...
Mom... when are you coming back?...
The savory scents of street food drifting down through the grate were the only feast Yeon-woo could savor. Day after day, she had clung to that window, staring up at passing shoes. That was the only thing a starving child could do.
Her eyes snapped open.
Dusk had long settled over the mountain when Yeon-woo finally awoke from a full day's slumber. For a fleeting breath, she stared blankly at the ceiling with wide, round eyes, then sat bolt upright. Her little nostrils twitched inquisitively.
Patter-patter—slam!
She threw the door wide open.
"Meat!"
Fresh fowl! And two whole birds at that?!
Dashing out into the yard, Yeon-woo's gaze locked onto the succulent meat sizzling over the campfire. It was pheasant—her absolute favorite. Saliva flooded her mouth in an instant.
Oh!
A sudden thought struck her, and her eyes darted frantically around the courtyard. A moment later, dry grass rustled behind the cottage, and Woon-hyeon emerged carrying an armful of straw.
"Grandpa!"
"Ah, you are awake?" Woon-hyeon greeted her with a warm smile.
Yeon-woo's eyes shone with pure delight. Dimples carved deep into her cheeks as she nodded vigorously. "Yeah!"
"The meat is just about done. Come over here."
Patter!
"Put on your shoes first."
Skid.
"..."
Patter-patter-patter!
After hastily kicking into her shoes, Yeon-woo scampered back and plopped down beside him. Woon-hyeon tossed fresh straw into the embers, pulled a beautifully browned pheasant leg from the fire, and handed it to her.
"Careful now. It is scalding, so do not rush."
"Okay!"
Fresh from the flames, the meat radiated intense heat. Yeon-woo gripped both ends of the wooden skewer, blowing on it with puffed-out cheeks. Beside her, Woon-hyeon laid down the remaining three drumsticks so they would be ready for her.
Crackle, pop.
The child crouching by the roaring fire, blowing earnestly on her roast pheasant, was small. Heartbreakingly small. To be cast into a crucible so ruthless and unforgiving, she was far too tender a soul.
"Yeon-woo."
"Huh?" she replied between breaths, still cooling the meat.
"Would you not like to learn martial arts?"
"Huh?" She turned to him, her round eyes clouded with complete bafflement.
"I saw the book inside your room. Is it not a martial arts manual?"
"It is."
"Are you truly not interested in learning?"
"Nope."
Without another thought, Yeon-woo clamped her teeth around a giant chunk of meat.
"Hothothot!" White clouds of steam billowed frantically from her open mouth.
"I told you to take your time! Water! Drink some water!"
"Hah, hah, phew!" After drowning the fire with cold water and swallowing the juicy morsel with relish, Yeon-woo wiped her mouth and continued, "Mister got me a teacher before, but it was boring, so I told him I wouldn't do it. Then he handed me that book and told me I had to read it, at least."
"By 'Mister'... do you mean the man who bought you?"
"Yeah."
Woon-hyeon let out a muted hum of contemplation. Offering to teach her martial arts meant the man harbored at least some shred of desire for the girl to survive. He may have purchased her to shield his own flesh and blood, but he had not abandoned his humanity entirely.
"Then why refuse to train? You know the place you must go is fraught with danger, do you not?"
"I still don't wanna learn martial arts. I have plenty to eat right now, and every day is fun. I'm just gonna live like this until I die."
"D-die?! Do not utter such words so flippantly! Besides, if you cultivate martial arts, you might not have to—"
"I don't care if I die."
That serene, entirely detached answer pierced Woon-hyeon's chest like an iron spike. Emotion surged within him, and his voice broke into a shout.
"You have barely lived a single decade, yet you speak of death so casually?! Is your life so worthless to you?! Are you not afraid of dying?!"
Yeon-woo's eyes widened at his thunderous volume. But in an instant, a venomous spark flared within her gaze.
"No! Not one bit!"
Her voice rose to match his. Whether she thought she was being scolded or dragged into a fight, she shoved the meat aside and shrieked back with all her might.
"When you're dead, you aren't hungry, and you don't hurt! Why would I ever be scared of that?! Being hungry is a hundred times, a thousand times scarier!"
"How can you say that?! Have you ever died?! Hunger is a passing torment that can be endured! But death means the end of everything!"
"It is not the end! What do you know about anything, Grandpa?!"
"I have seen far more of this world than you, which is why I tell you this! Look at yourself! If you die, all the food you love so dearly—never again—!"
...You will never be able to eat it again!
The words withered in his throat.
The child's tiny lips were quivering violently. Clear, heavy tears had already pooled in the corners of her wide eyes.
Gods above.
Only then did Woon-hyeon realize he had lost his composure and screamed at a child. He had never intended to lecture her so harshly.
"Yeon—"
"Grandpa, you're an idiot!"
Yeon-woo sprang up and bolted out of the yard, her little fingers clutching the four pheasant legs in a desperate death grip.
"Yeon-woo...!"
Woon-hyeon scrambled to his feet in pursuit. Night had deepened, and she was only a tender child. Though the Dark Shadow Demon Lord had pledged to slaughter any assassins, there was no telling what other perils lurked in the dark.
He rushed toward the gateway, but skidded to a halt before crossing the threshold.
"..."
Perhaps some primal instinct had warned her of the dangerous wild. She had not run far at all; she was huddled right against the outer mud wall.
Concealing his presence, Woon-hyeon peered gently over the ledge.
Yeon-woo was squatted in the dirt, sniffling and huffing through her tears as she furiously ripped meat off the bone with her teeth.
A muffled whimper drifted past: "I hate Grandpa..."
Haaah...
Exhaling a long breath of relief, Woon-hyeon leaned his back against the courtyard side of the wall. He tilted his head back toward the night sky. Indifferent to the turbulence of mortal hearts, countless silver stars glittered against the dark canopy. A deep, bitter sorrow welled in his eyes as he watched them burn.
"Starting today, I ask that you reduce the child's morning and evening meals to less than the standard portion."
It was early morning.
Woon-hyeon intercepted the Guan Clan Errand Runner as the man set down the food baskets. The servant always made his delivery well before Yeon-woo stirred, but today, Woon-hyeon had waited in ambush.
"P-pardon? What do you mean by..."
The runner looked bewildered. Coming here day after day, he had naturally noticed the mysterious swordsman living alongside the girl. He had even reported the man's presence to the Clan Head, but the master had instructed him not to meddle in whatever life the child chose to live. Thus, the runner had looked the other way, faithfully dropping off lavish meals as ordered.
"Prepare... less food?"
"Precisely," Woon-hyeon confirmed with a solemn nod.
"Cut back on the snacks as well. In fact, do not bring any snacks at all."
"B-but the snacks were specifically requested by the young mis—"
"Relay this to your master: if he wishes for that child to survive, he will heed my instructions."
"For the child to... survive...?"
The runner's gaze shifted toward the quiet room where Yeon-woo still slumbered. He understood full well why the main clan showered such meticulous care upon this nameless child. Five years from now, she was destined to enter the Demon Dragon Hall (Maryonggwan)—as a substitute for their young master.
That was why orders had been given to provide her with whatever clothes, meals, and indulgences she fancied until the day of enrollment. That was how desperately the Clan Head watched over her.
'He even attempted to have her taught martial arts.'
That endeavor had collapsed when the girl vehemently refused to lift a finger.
The runner cast a wary glance back at Woon-hyeon. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, the man radiated an inexplicable, suffocating aura of authority. Though the runner had no inkling where this wanderer hailed from or what power he wielded, that sheer gravity made it impossible to treat him with anything less than deference.
Though riddled with suspicion, the runner ultimately bowed low.
"I shall convey your words to the Clan Head."
"Thank you. I will see to it that today's breakfast is properly served."
Once the errand runner had departed and vanished from sight, Woon-hyeon carried the low dining table onto the wooden porch and took a seat beside it.
Some time passed in quiet stillness before rustling stirred from within the room.
Click.
The wooden door creaked open, and Yeon-woo emerged, rubbing her eyes with hair like a tangled bird's nest. She tottered forward on drowsy feet and plopped down before the table. Before her sleep-addled mind had even cleared, her little hand reached out and scooped up a spoonful of rice.
As he always did, Woon-hyeon picked up his chopsticks and laid a savory side dish atop her mound of rice. This quiet dance had become the familiar rhythm of their mornings.
"I am sorry about last night, Yeon-woo."
Chewing through a massive mouthful of rice, Yeon-woo peered up at him, her heavy eyelids still drooping halfway shut.
"I should not have spoken so harshly. I lost my temper and crossed the line. Will you forgive me?"
Yeon-woo nodded without a second's hesitation, completely unbothered, as though the storm of the previous evening had been washed away by sleep.
Woon-hyeon let out a soft, relieved laugh and placed another bite of food onto her spoon.
"In that case, let us have that pork you love so much for dinner. Yesterday, I noticed a rather sizable wild boar caught in one of my pit traps."
"Really?!"
Her eyes snapped wide open, sparkling with sudden vitality.
"Truly. Once you finish eating, shall we go inspect it together?"
"Yes! Let's go!!"
Her sullenness vanished without a trace, replaced by a radiant grin as she began humming a little tune over her breakfast. Seeing her small hips wiggling with excitement, practically begging her legs to leap up and sprint into the woods this very second, Woon-hyeon felt an ache of guilty affection tighten in his chest.