Coolness

The Core, which had suddenly begun to glow, was hidden once more against Elder Heo's chest, and we hurried to a ruined building nearby. It stood three stories tall. To keep a clear view of the surroundings, we went straight up and took the roof.

Elder Heo could no longer so much as walk on his own. I carried him on my back the whole way.

"Where... is this place...? Jangchun...?"

"This ought to be far enough. Easy—careful!"

While Dr. Myeong was wholly absorbed in examining him, I laid my hand over the back of Elder Heo's and focused. I checked every probability I could read from a human body. The result was the same conclusion Dr. Myeong reached.

"Woo Jungkook... This is no good. At the short end, right now. At the long end, an hour or two."

Maybe because the mission had run longer than I'd expected.

"You don't need to feel guilty about it. Even if we'd been at Headquarters, it wouldn't have been much different. If I'd pulled in every medical resource we had, I could have stretched his life a very little, but—"

"And that wouldn't have meant anything."

A waste of medical resources.

"...Right. Even at Headquarters, we would have had to let him go like this."

Death from old age. A death that could not be avoided.

They say the old world had a word for it: a good death. A good death—a phrase of almost indecent luxury. It probably suited Elder Heo as he was now. Among all the deaths I had witnessed with my own eyes, this ranked among the better ones.

So Elder Heo won't be at Headquarters anymore.

It was hard to call the relationship a close one, but he was still the person I had known longest at Headquarters. He never remembered me, so it had been one-sided—and there was no need to limit it to Headquarters, either. He was the person I had known the longest in my life. I simply hadn't realized. I only looked for him when a Core needed appraising, and he was always standing in the same place, doing the same work every time. This was the first time our paths had crossed with nothing to appraise. It was also the last.

Go well.

Elder Heo's good death. The only flaw, perhaps, was that it wasn't a comfortable bed back at Headquarters.

...No. The only real flaw was that, of all times, it had happened while he was out on a mission with me. There had to be a curse on me.

Keeping ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠company, after all...

The nightmare would be putting on a fresh set of clothes.

Elder Heo's movements had already stopped. Even so, Dr. Myeong seemed unable to let go. She kept touching him here and there, refusing to give up.

"That's enough. You've done what you can. Let's send him off."

"Suppose we should. Haa."

"I ain't dead yet, you damned—"

"Gyaah!"

Dr. Myeong, who had been sitting quietly, scrambled backward at full speed on all fours, like a spider.

"I'm alive. Still..."

He seemed, somehow, to have rallied a little.

"Dad? Are you with us a bit?"

"Dad, my foot. Don't you forget I told you I ain't got a daughter."

Anyone could see he was at death's door, and yet Elder Heo's mind was strangely clear. Was this what they called a miracle?

"Dr. Myeong? Can he actually survive this?"

"That's—um. This might be that terminal lu, lu..."

"Hm?"

"Terminal Lucidity! That's it."

And what fantasy-novel spell was that supposed to be?

"Impressive, remembering something useless at a time like this."

"What are you talking about? It's real. I'll show you the book when we get back to Headquarters."

"What is it, then?"

"It's when consciousness comes back as death draws near. Dementia patients can suddenly become perfectly clear. Extremely rare, of course."

"You're not making this up right now?"

"I told you it's real! Though this is the first time I've actually seen it. Even at Headquarters, you almost never watch a dementia patient live out a full span."

But then she scratched her head, as if something didn't sit right.

"It's a little strange, though. I was under the impression it showed up at least a few days beforehand, not right at the very end..."

"Then doesn't that mean he might still hold on?"

"So that was it."

Elder Heo lay staring up at the sky, his expression blank. His color was poor from failing strength, but his face looked at ease.

"Strange memories kept coming back lately, and I knew something was off... Thought the dementia had come on me, but it was the other way around."

So he had been aware that his mind was returning, little by little.

"Then that one's the doctor, sure enough, and this one is..."

"Do you remember?"

"...The survival instructor?"

Memories from quite a long way back had revived.

"Ain't you that Hunter who thrashed those Heart Corps bastards with his bare fists?"

"That's right."

"Then why are you wearing a Postman's uniform?"

"That's—"

"Right, right. This mission was disguising yourself as a Postman, wasn't it? I remember the whole thing."

His memories of my days as a Hunter and his memories of this mission had tangled together into a mess.

Elder Heo's breathing, steady while he spoke, began to roughen again. He could close his eyes at any moment and it would not have been strange. He himself would know that better than anyone.

Maybe that was why.

"This thing—"

Elder Heo drew out his treasure.

"This here's my treasure."

"Huh? Woo Jungkook, you saw it earlier too, right?"

A Core that had definitely been pouring out a pure white light. Now it had lost that light again and gone black.

"Did this fella start glowing again?"

"Uh... Yes. So it isn't a Core?"

Dr. Myeong's reply was rather original. True enough. It had only seemed strange because we'd assumed it was a Core. What if it wasn't one at all?

"It's a Core."

So much for that.

"I'd made up my mind to pass it to someone before I died, see..."

The only people here were me and Dr. Myeong. Awkward for no good reason, she scratched hard at the back of her head and pointed my way.

"If that's what it is, give it to that guy. I haven't done anything—"

"Who said I was giving it to either of you? Cough—koff..."

Elder Heo covered his mouth and coughed without pause. When he took the hand away, the palm was soaked in blood.

"Ain't much time left..."

So there was someone he wanted the Core delivered to. His circle couldn't amount to more than people at Headquarters. We were on the way back anyway. I could pass it along.

"Leave it with me, and I'll deliver it."

"Eh?"

"The Core."

"Eh... I ain't got nothing to pay the postage with, anyhow."

"Put it on account. I'll collect someday."

"Well, I'll be."

Elder Heo fiddled with the Core. Under his fingers its light seemed to return, faintly, then died away again.

"My treasure... There was someone I wanted to give it to."

Meaning that person was gone now?

"Heo Mi-hee. My daughter."

Even with his mind clear, Elder Heo was looking for his daughter. Because his memories were scrambled? No. His tone was almost as if, at present, he had no daughter at all. Dr. Myeong read the room and didn't contradict him this time.

"But the truth is, I don't think I ever had a daughter. Not from the start."

Had he realized there was no trace of a daughter in the memories that had come back?

"The daughter... Right. Those bastards made her up. Koff."

Elder Heo's hands trembled.

"The Ministry of Future Technology... I'm certain."

Out of nowhere.

"Certain—koff!"

"Mr. Heo Seong-chan? Your mind seems to be slipping again. Breathe easy. Come on, one, two—"

"I'm certain!"

He roughly shook Dr. Myeong off and cried out, sharp.

"You two know about it? The talk that if you're too special, the Ministry of Future Technology snatches you... koff. The rumor."

"That isn't a rumor. The word for that is a ghost story."

"I—I used a Core three times, I tell you. An Ability Core, three times..."

Dr. Myeong's eyes said the old man was starting in on nonsense again, but her mouth stayed firmly shut. And in the midst of it, unbidden, Min Yeo-jin's words came back.

If Elder Heo wasn't talking nonsense now, then it wasn't entirely impossible.

"What became of you, after using it three times?"

"I reported it... And I ended up like this. Koff."

"Like this?"

"From then on, my memory went wrong somewhere. I think that's when I started believing I had a daughter, too..."

"Who did you report it to?"

"The Ministry of Future Technology!"

Even with a rumor like that around, he had managed to think of reporting it. Had he been naive?

"That was decades back. Wasn't any rumor like that then. Course not. I'm the one who spread it... It ain't a ghost story! It was true! Cough—koff."

This was Elder Heo talking. You had to know how to filter him. The daughter he had always been singing about—now, he said, she had never existed. I had known that was the truth, but with things turning out this way, I could no longer tell whether the daughter was real or not.

Anyway, the most important part right now seemed to be that he had succeeded in using an Ability Core three times.

"What happened when you used the Core three times?"

"This thing... I came to meet this thing."

Looking down at the lightless Core, Elder Heo's gaze was far away.

"You mean you obtained a Core?"

"It ain't like that... You might say it's a com—koff—complicated story."

He let the Core fall quietly into my arms. He had meant to set it down lightly, but the strength seemed to have left his hands.

"...Take it."

Look at it any way you liked, the Core was black. What had that pure white light been? I had never seen a white Core to begin with.

"That daughter was probably a shackle to keep me bound... I lived hiding the treasure, too, for a daughter I thought I'd meet someday..."

The color drained from his face as it darkened. No tears gathered in Elder Heo's parched eyes, but they were eyes I was certain I had seen before.

The face of a father who had lost his daughter. In that way, Elder Heo had lost his daughter twice.

A third use of an Ability Core. What in the world did he gain?

He had already answered beside the point once. Was it something to ask again of a dying man?

"If you'll tell me about this Core, I'll put it to use where it's needed."

I needed to understand the thing itself, first. I was grateful he was giving it to me, but I had no idea what it was even for.

"Koff..."

"I think Mr. Heo Seong-chan is at his limit."

"I'm fi—ghk."

Blood came up every time he retched, until it looked as if he were wringing his heart in his chest and forcing the blood out through his mouth.

"Appraisal result, ugh... It's a Core with a ninety-nine percent chance of failure."

The worst.

"That's what it reads when you appraise it. But trust me. It's a Core that succeeds in use, no matter what..."

A Core that always succeeded when used?

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what? Don't you speak Korean?"

The Old Man had said something similar once. But that had been about conditions under which success was guaranteed, not about the Core itself unconditionally guaranteeing success. He had clearly been pointing at me when he said it. It meant there were conditions that changed from person to person.

If one of the two stories is wrong, the less trustworthy one is Elder Heo's.

But Elder Heo ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠went on without the slightest hesitation. His voice was weak, and yet there was an unwavering solidity in it.

"The effect grants the ability to appraise Cores... But only for someone who's never once used an Ability Core. Koff..."

So it made you a Core appraiser. Unconditionally, he said.

"But the price of certain success is that the life you've got left becomes one year."

"The lifespan of what?"

"Whose do you think? The one who uses it. Koff, koff! Aigoo... This is hard."

One last time. Just once more.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"I'm truly sorry, sir, but if you use a Core three times, what exactly—"

"Mustn't be said... No, that ain't it. You mustn't hear it through someone else's mouth... It can't be undone."

Elder Heo had gone completely slack. The look of a man who had released everything he was holding. His daughter, and the Core. All of it. I wouldn't be able to question him any further.

"I'm tired... It was hard."

Perhaps because he had let go of everything, he looked light as down. If even a breeze came, it seemed he would blow away just like this. If he flew off, he would never come back.

"...Bury me... somewhere the sunlight don't reach..."

Wasn't it usually the opposite? Had his mind wandered, and he'd said it backward?

"I miss the cool... Headquarters was too... bright..."

Before he closed his eyes for the last time, Elder Heo glanced at the treasure in my hand. There was something familiar in the look. I thought I had seen those exact eyes somewhere before. Maybe I was imagining it.

"..."

"..."

Neither I nor Dr. Myeong spoke, so there was only the quiet. Would he rear up again, barking that he wasn't dead yet?

I was sick to death of it. This old man's bellowing.

Yes. I would probably hear it again. That bellow that used to bore into my eardrums. Probably in a nightmare. Again and again.

Dr. Myeong propped her chin on the edge of the roof and smoked hard and fast. I had never seen her go through them that quickly. Leave her like that and the cigarettes would be gone, I thought—

Beep. Beeeep.

A warning tone I had never heard before shook Dr. Myeong's mind and body all over again, just when she had barely found her calm.

It was the necklace.

As if it thought we might not have heard, it repeated the failure over and over, and then—

Click.

The lock opened on its own. The necklace still hung from the neck of Elder Heo, who lay where he was, dangling with its clasp gaping open.

There was a reason it had opened by itself. Retrieve the necklace safely and turn it in. Hauling the whole corpse back would be difficult, and cutting the head off would be its own ordeal, so it had kindly opened on its own. How very considerate.

Left alone, the necklace kept chattering. Then—

"Hm."

Dr. Myeong snatched ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it up.

"Think this thing's expensive?"

"Looked like it was made in the Geofront. It'll be expensive."

"Yeah. There's a mark."

She had been nodding. Then—

Whoosh.

She threw the necklace far off the roof.

"Shut the hell up."

She stuck the cigarette back between her front teeth, and—

Chk.

As she lit the lighter, her eyes met mine.

"What. You got something to say?"

Of course I did.

"You did great."