Comrades

"Whew…."

"Jisan, are you okay?!"

"Yes, I think I'm all right."

The moment my body returned to its original size, I slumped down beside Jang Siwoon. Truthfully, I was battered from head to toe—but I was still breathing, and that made it fine.

I took my soaked clothes in both hands and wrung them out, squeezing out as much water as I could. Drenched head to toe, my already exhausted body had grown heavier still, like a waterlogged sponge.

"You did well, Jisan. If it hadn't been for you, the two of us—"

Jang Siwoon stared blankly at the spot where the two Greek-army visitors had vanished.

"This is the first time I've seen so many visitors disappear right in front of me. It doesn't sit well."

"……"

I felt exactly the same way. Every one of us was a visitor climbing to fulfill our own wish. On the lower floors, we'd been comrades if anything—companions in the same boat. Now, at some point, everyone had grown used to tearing into one another to survive.

My heart is heavy, but my body is adapting.

Adapted enough, even, to set aside guilt for the exhibition floors we were about to leave behind. Little by little, I was seeping into this cruel ecosystem.

"You who abandoned the war board—turn back and march."

This damned tower never gave us a moment's rest. At Zeus's urging, I dragged myself upright and walked back with Jang Siwoon. Thanks to her support, I could barely find the strength to move my legs forward.

"I'm sorry. You must be exhausted too, Siwoon."

"You saw how strong I am. I'm fine."

Being helped along by a woman much smaller than me was a fairly ridiculous sight, but I was too drained to care about anything like that. My ink gauge was down to a single block, after all.

Besides, I've lived my whole life without worrying about looking silly or embarrassing myself.

I'd never had the luxury of a life where protecting my pride came first, so I never gave much thought to losing face either. Honestly, I wasn't sure I had anything grand enough to call dignity in the first place.

"I welcome the victorious Trojan army."

After we had walked a long while through the temple, the voice of a god I'd never heard before rang out. This one felt considerably more cheerful than the other solemn deities—almost like Hermes.

"What the—?!"

Startled, Jang Siwoon pulled me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠back a step. Twisting wooden vines were spreading across the floor. Bright green leaves sprouted rapidly along the vines, and small fruits budded from them. Purple fruits. Grapes.

"And you are…?"

"I am Dionysus. You have arrived at the twentieth floor of the Museum of Wishes."

The god of wine, Dionysus. Fitting for the role, his cheeks were flushed as if he perpetually had wine on his lips, and he spread ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠both arms wide toward us. When Dionysus snapped his fingers, the clouds on the temple floor clumped together and became plush sofas.

"You have no need to walk. Until you meet the gatekeeper before the twenty-first floor, Zephyrus will carry you on the wind."

"But this isn't made of clouds?"

"Is it not a heavenly realm?"

He's moving this entire temple for us?

I briefly worried it might rocket forward at full speed, like when Hermes had grabbed hold of us and flown—but mercifully, the temple moved so smoothly that I couldn't feel any motion at all. Watching the clouds beyond the temple pillars drift backward, though, it was definitely flying forward.

"Well, he said we don't need to walk, so let's rest a bit."

Only then did Jang Siwoon lean back against the sofa, sprawling onto it like she'd collapsed into her own bed. Watching her stretch out as comfortably as if it were her own home, I sat down at a slight distance.

My body still ached from the battle earlier, but my eyelids weren't especially heavy. Back in the real world, burning through this much stamina would have knocked me out cold from sheer fatigue.

"Inside this tower, the three great human urges are suppressed. Maybe it's because this isn't the real world. Isn't it strange, Jisan?"

"Well, in a world where gods actually show up, I suppose it makes sense they'd control our bodies too."

Visitors who felt neither hunger nor drowsiness, moving ceaselessly for the quest and nothing else. There had been times when someone collapsed from exhaustion and fell asleep, but sleep was never truly necessary. It was the kind of thing only possible in the Museum of Wishes.

"O mortals, who have never had the chance to properly enjoy yourselves. How pitiable."

A wine jar had appeared in Dionysus's hands—who knew when he'd made it? Not a cup, but an entire jar. An amphora, the kind of vessel used in ancient Greece and Rome.

"I shall grant you a brief moment of revelry."

Is he telling us to chug the whole jar?

An amphora, a vessel meant for storing wine, handed over as-is. But it was a god's gift, so Jang Siwoon and I hurriedly accepted the wine. Thankfully it was much smaller than an actual amphora—just about drinkable in one sitting.

"Jisan, do you handle your liquor well?"

"Average. I don't drink often, but I'm not a lightweight either. Just… middling."

Every time I drink, old memories surface and I end up bawling my eyes out pathetically.

When I got blackout drunk, I'd bury myself in the past and sob like a child. And the next day, while nursing my hangover, I'd torment myself all over again with the memories. After going through that enough times, I stopped drinking entirely—except for a few furtive sips at company dinners.

"Really? I love it. Bottoms up."

Jang Siwoon clinked her amphora against mine, whether I drank or not, and promptly tipped it back with a refreshing gulp. Watching her drain it, I brought mine to my lips too. I didn't usually drink—but right now, I wanted, just a little, to wet my throat.

Yang Myeonghyun, swept away into the darkness. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠And the Student, seeped into the light. Thinking of them made my chest tighten, and I figured a drink might ease the feeling, if only a little.

I don't want to cry in front of Siwoon, so I'll just have a few sips.

The wine entered my mouth, slid down my throat, and flowed into my body. Sweet grape aroma, bitter alcohol—a taste that made my heart pound with vigor.

Not a bad outcome for something I'd impulsively put to my lips. To think Dionysus's wine was a potion. Seeing my Leaflet ink filled to the brim, I finally felt at ease. When the twentieth-floor quest came, I wouldn't have to ration my strength—I could throw my body into it again if I had to.

"Wow, is it because a god poured it for me? This tastes incredible."

"Haha, of course. It's no nectar of the gods, but for you mortals it should be plenty satisfying."

Jang Siwoon smacked her lips with a satisfied expression. Despite having gulped the wine down quickly, her face showed no change at all. Dionysus let out a hearty laugh at her glowing review, clearly pleased.

"I'm envious of you, Jisan."

"Hm?"

"You've got a perk that gives you a huge advantage in climbing. Of course, it's probably rooted in your own knowledge, but still."

Jang Siwoon scratched her head roughly with the hand not holding her amphora. Envy, after all, is something we tend to feel for what we don't have ourselves.

"I'm someone for whom strength doesn't exist without Soul Rental, so honestly, Siwoon, you're amazing."

"Eh. You just hit things. That's all there is to it."

That's exactly what makes it amazing and terrifying, you know.

Jang Siwoon muttered it like it was nothing at all. …And in that instant, I remembered her throwing punches back in the first war. The force of those comic-book blows was, for someone with my bottom-tier stamina, almost miraculous.

"I don't know much about boxing, but you seemed like you had real skill, Siwoon."

"You only think that because you don't know any better. Well, I'll take the compliment anyway."

"You should've skipped this place and enjoyed life as a college student."

Talented, and still younger than me—a college student, no less. It felt like a waste for someone like her to toil away in a tower like this. But that was just my complacent speculation; Jang Siwoon surely had her own reasons for choosing to climb this tower.

"Ah—I'm not trying to pry into your personal life. You don't have to answer."

My own wish was desperate enough that I had no business judging anyone else's circumstances. Jang Siwoon waved a hand as if it were nothing and took another long drink. How long had she been drinking? She was already on the verge of emptying the jar.

"Mr. Go said it, remember? 'Anyone who comes in here—think any of them had an easy life?'"

"……"

"What about you, Jisan? Did you enjoy life as a college student?"

As if that had ever happened. I twisted the corner of my mouth into a bitter smile and shook my head. Between the memories of the fire and the gnawing desperation for money, there had been no room to enjoy my youth.

"I can't speak for anyone else… but I might have lived a less wretched life than some of the visitors here."

"……"

"But I was greedy. That alone wasn't enough for me."

Blunt, isn't she.

"Mr. Go used to call me Jjang-shi-un, remember? 'Super easy.'"

"That joke was kind of corny."

"But like I said before, people around me actually made that joke a lot too."

Jang Siwoon and I both let out a soft laugh, remembering Ko Gyumin and his endless stream of dad jokes. Jang Siwoon's gaze drifted into empty air, as if recalling her own past.

"My life was the kind where anyone could see how well things were going. Materially, mentally—I was just a lucky person, plain and simple."

The light in her eyes, reaching back through her memories, grew more distant by the moment.

"I was good enough to go pro straight out of high school, without even going to college. But then at some point, my life started unraveling."

Her life had started to unravel. You couldn't pin everything on life and fate alone—but there was such a thing as a swamp of misfortune that you couldn't claw your way out of, no matter how hard you struggled.

"If I worked hard, everything would work out. Fate is something you carve out for yourself. That's how I tried to live."

"…And then?"

"Everything started going wrong in the strangest ways."

For a moment, I sensed it—not just Jang Siwoon's career, but her family history hadn't been smooth either.

"You know how it is. The kind of story people love to trot out over drinks. 'Oh, what a shame things never worked out for her.' That kind of thing."

"I know it well."

I relate all too well.

"Honestly, I know I'm still too young to write myself off. But—"

"But?"

"Luck you had and then lost makes you cling to it even harder."

"…So your wish, Siwoon, is for that good luck to come back to you?"

"Something like that. Ah—and just because I told you my wish doesn't mean you need to tell me yours."

Jang Siwoon scratched her cheek with a smile I'd never seen from her before. Had opening up about her inner self made her a little sheepish?

"Maybe it's the alcohol, but even though I'm not drunk, the words just keep flowing."

I wasn't drunk either, though a faint sweet buzz was definitely lingering. I briefly considered telling Jang Siwoon about my own ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wish—but family circumstances are the kind of thing people struggle to respond to, so I decided to keep it buried.

"That is what wine does—it lightens the heart and loosens the tongue."

Dionysus rested his chin on his hand and watched the two of us with interest. He'd been leaning back in his cloud-made chair all this while, listening to our conversation. Jang Siwoon, growing more embarrassed, withdrew her smile and put on her usual stoic expression.

My heart didn't feel much lighter… but it was still a good conversation.

Even if we'd met inside the tower, Jang Siwoon had become a comrade I could trust to a certain degree. A brief rest, talking with a comrade. Even heavy conversation had its place in a time like this.

A comrade…. It's a relationship I'm experiencing for the first time.

I knew better than to trust other visitors so readily anymore. And yet, when Jang Siwoon volunteered her own circumstances like this, I couldn't help but place some measure of faith in her.

Jang Siwoon must have felt something similar toward me—that's why she shared all this.

"Ah. Right."

Jang Siwoon's eyes suddenly lit up as if she'd remembered something, and she fixed a glare on me.

"Jisan, take better care of your body during quests. I know we have to win, but you just throw yourself in headfirst way too much."

"I cut off my own ear on the last floor, didn't I?"

When I showed her my scarred ear, Jang Siwoon's mouth fell open in horrified disbelief.

"Sorry if this is rude, but you're kind of a madman, Jisan. A madman with hazy eyes."

"Rude it is. Also—hazy eyes? Shouldn't they be clear eyes for a madman?"

"Your pupils are pretty cloudy for that, don't you think?"

…What a brutally honest student.