Chapter 55: Preparation (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 55: Preparation (2)
Creeeak.
The taut creak of a bowstring drawn past its limit filled the archery range.
The tension was drawn so taut it was almost unbearable.
But she, Ha Sion, didn't stop.
Fingertips locked in place, she drew the string to its absolute limit, until the arrowhead itself began to tremble.
And then.
Thwang—!
The instant her fingers released, the arrow shot forward with explosive speed.
It tore through the air in a flash, its trajectory a blur that left an afterimage in its wake.
CRUNCH!
The arrow struck dead center, shattering the target in a single blow.
The phantom sensation lingered on her fingertips.
“Hah…”
Lately, her mind had been a battlefield.
She felt many things, but one emotion remained deeper than the rest.
Guilt.
The course of events they had altered, all for his sake, had ultimately forced him to suffer that pain all over again.
It had been necessary, but the guilt was inescapable.
Like a sudden flood, her mind was submerged in the memories of another.
No. These weren't someone else's memories.
My memories.
The distinct memories that I, Ha Sion, had lived.
*
As if to signal the end of the assault, a torrential downpour engulfed the peninsula.
The sound of the lashing rain was a dirge for the fallen heroes.
Black mourning clothes.
The heavy, rain-soaked fabric clung to her skin.
Rainwater dripped from her knees, a quiet, ceaseless stream like tears.
With a devastated expression, she sat as the chief mourner at the funeral for the Vanquisher heroes.
Ha Sion had lost her parents at a young age, but she had never felt lonely. With a kind grandfather and uncles and older sisters who trusted and followed her, she had never been alone.
Then, one day, her grandfather brought home a boy.
The boy was frail and had no family. With his weak body, he learned how to fight from her grandfather.
She had wanted to become his family. And before long, they were.
Ha Sion recognized the feeling budding in a corner of her heart. She had thought it was friendship, but she had known for a very long time that it was something more.
But on this day, she also came to realize that all of it had been in vain.
“What…?”
An official from the Association had arrived with the tragic news.
Straightening the rain-soaked papers, the official read the names of the dead, his face a mask of grief.
It was a mission like any other.
And because of that seemingly ordinary mission, she had lost her entire family.
Overnight, almost everyone who had been her pillar of support was gone.
The only one left was the boy, Jung Hae-in.
She couldn't do anything.
She couldn't breathe, couldn't even lift her head.
“…hero fatalities, and student Jung Hae-in is currently unconscious…”
However.
“Jung Hae-in??”
She asked again, her lips trembling.
What were you even doing there?
He wasn't dead, but many predicted he would be. Some even said death would be a mercy.
Those words shattered her completely.
Countless heroes expressed their condolences, offering flowers and bowing their heads.
She was the chief mourner, but she had no strength to attend to any of it.
Just then, she heard the crowd begin to murmur.
She lifted her head. A single figure had appeared.
A rain-soaked hospital gown. A bandaged arm. Blood seeping from a torn wound stained the fabric.
He looked as if he could barely stand, limping slightly on one leg as he approached. He was a wreck.
“Hae-in!!!”
It was him.
Ha Sion shot to her feet and ran to him without hesitation. He said nothing, simply staring at the funeral portraits.
“……”
Jung Hae-in's eyes were empty.
Then, his lips slowly parted.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… Sion…”
He repeated the same words like a broken doll.
What was he so sorry about? She didn't ask.
In the end, she too embraced him and cried her heart out.
Her only reason to keep living in this world…
was now Jung Hae-in.
Only him.
*
Thwip-thwip-thwip-thwip!
Ten arrows flew at once. Technically, they weren't loosed at the exact same instant, but their speed made it seem so.
Rapid Fire.
All ten arrows pierced the dead center of ten different targets.
The students practicing on the shooting line began to murmur.
All eyes were on her.
But she paid them no mind.
Instead, she took a slow, deep breath.
This time will be different.
Ha Sion closed her eyes and made a vow.
*
The day after I applied, a message came from the club, welcoming me immediately.
It also said there was a meeting after class.
Since it happened to be a mentor-mentee day, it was the perfect chance to invite Yoon Chae-ha.
“Did you join a club?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Then how about this one?”
I opened my Watch, brought up the poster, and held it out to her.
Yoon Chae-ha looked at the poster on the Watch with a questioning gaze.
-Board Game Club. Lexium.
“Oh…”
Her eyes sparkled.
She tilted her head, a corner of her mouth lifting with interest.
“How do I apply?”
“Already did.”
“For me too?”
“Yep.”
I replied nonchalantly. She stared at me, surprised.
“I’m your mentor.”
When I added that as if it were nothing, Yoon Chae-ha stared at me, dumbfounded for a moment, before breaking into a smirk.
After class, we headed to the clubroom. As befitting a board game club, it was a cozy space filled with all sorts of games.
However, only one person was sitting at the table inside.
"Oh, you're here?"
She wore the light green collar of a second-year. A senior. Her hair was tied back tightly as she leaned back in her chair.
She looked at us and raised an eyebrow slightly. Then, after checking the member list on her Watch, she said,
“I saw the names on the list and couldn't believe it. We've got some celebrities joining us, huh?”
Her eyes were filled with interest.
“I’m Jo Seoyeon. I’m the club president.”
We greeted her.
I quietly let my gaze wander, scanning the clubroom.
Shelves stacked with board games.
A chess set on a table. A Go board in the corner.
“Where is everyone else?” I asked the senior.
She smirked and pointed with her finger.
“They’re off playing with the expensive toys.”
Where she pointed.
The floor of the spacious room.
There, four blue Cubes pulsed with light, spinning rapidly.
So that’s what she meant.
Puzzles in the form of an Instant Dungeon. They were probably enjoying their own games inside the activated mana spaces.
Each Cube formed a single puzzle space.
That meant there were about four teams in total.
“Aren’t you playing, senior?” I asked, looking at her.
“Someone always has to stay out here and watch. They might not look like much, but their operating principles make them dangerous by a very fine margin.”
She gestured toward the Cubes with her finger as she spoke.
Yoon Chae-ha tilted her head.
“Dangerous?”
The senior nodded slightly and explained.
“You've had the Mock Dungeon class, right? Think of these as miniature versions of that system. Spatial detachment, Mana Backflow… if something can go wrong, it will.”
It made sense.
After all, constructing an internal mana space from scratch was hardly a simple or easy task.
“Anyway, welcome to the club.”
Jo Seoyeon casually extended her hand.
“Hang out and have fun today. You can’t use the expensive stuff since it’s all in use, but there’s plenty of other stuff to do.”
I took her hand and shook it. Yoon Chae-ha did the same.
“What do you want to do?”
I asked Yoon Chae-ha.
She looked around before smiling and heading to a corner.
And a dust-covered Go board. She sat down in front of it and spoke.
“Do you know how to play?”
I expected it.
That the board game she would choose would be Go.
Go is a battle where two players take turns placing black and white stones, vying to occupy a larger territory. Once placed, a stone can never be moved, and the goal is to create more territory than your opponent.
But the essence of this game is not simple territory-grabbing.
Every time you place a stone, you must grasp the meaning contained in that single move.
I answered quietly.
“Yeah.”
I'd played a few games with the Old Man, but not for long.
As a Whole Person, my talent had surpassed his in a matter of days.
Yoon Chae-ha would constantly try to size me up, to test me.
And I just had to keep passing those tests.
On the Go board, our conversation was made of stones.
Click.
Click.
Black and white.
Only the sound of the stones being placed continued.
Yoon Chae-ha played without hesitation from the start. She induced a chaotic fight, forcibly dragging me in as she rapidly expanded her territory. Not a single one of her moves was wasted.
Her every move was textbook. Efficient, optimal.
A thoroughly mage-like game.
I simply followed her lead.
When she attacked, I defended. When she tried to disrupt the board, I drew a firm line and secured the minimum gain.
Click.
Click.
A steady rhythm continued.
She took the initiative, and I didn't try to seize it from her. I just let her have it.
The game was approaching its final stages.
Then—
Click.
Yoon Chae-ha’s hand paused.
She had made her decisive move.
From now on, it was a battle of choices.
For someone like her, who prized efficiency, she would have expected me to make the most rational choice: to leave a one-point space between my stones.
It was the optimal move, the one backed by countless analyses and data. From her perspective, it was the only logical play.
But I placed a stone where she least expected it.
Click.
Instead of playing one space away, I placed my stone directly adjacent to hers.
Normally in Go, leaving a one-point space is considered a swift move. It allows you to claim a wider area and develop an advantageous fight later.
So what about my move?
I ignored that common sense. By attaching directly.
It was the slowest move, but one that demanded an immediate fight.
The most aggressive move.
“…!”
This wasn't some profound, master-level play.
It was simply a move that directly contradicted the ‘rational thinking’ she had built up until now.
A free-spirited move, possible only because I hadn't played much Go.
Yoon Chae-ha’s hand froze.
Her gaze lingered on the board for a long time.
An ordinary person would have overlooked the move. But not Yoon Chae-ha.
I picked up a stone and said curtly,
“Counting.”
In Go, once all the stones are played, you must calculate each player's territory.
It's a declaration typically made by the player certain of their victory.
Yoon Chae-ha’s head snapped up to look at me.
“……”
Smiling, yet angry.
Her expression was strange.
Yoon Chae-ha began to count.
As her fingers tallied the territories of black and white, they lacked their usual sharpness.
She wasn't just following the flow of the game; she was questioning it, mulling it over, trying to understand.
One, two, three—
And then, she.
“Let’s play another.”
She slowly set down the stone she was holding.