Gains and Losses (1)
Benny, who had turned around, looked up at Aspen as if seeking agreement. Her figure, backlit by the fireplace flames, radiated intensity. It was the attitude of someone who had already decided on the answer she wanted. Aspen shrugged. “If you’re a wandering knight who’s lost your affiliation, choosing where to lay your body on the battlefield is entirely up to you.”
“Aspen!”
“But we have someone feeding us now. Shouldn’t we do as our patron says?”
Nathan was about to retort immediately, but suddenly felt no need and gave up. With people like this looking out for him, there was no reason to refuse. Nathan let out a deep sigh as if spitting out something he’d been holding in. Then he spread his arms again.
“I’m back. I missed you. For a very long time.”
Benny and Aspen stared at each other for a moment. Benny wiggled her fingers as if telling Aspen to go ahead, but Aspen grinned mischievously instead of accepting the concession. Pushed from behind by an irresistible force, Benny let out a “Hik!” and tumbled toward Nathan. As Nathan’s arms caught her, Aspen finally bent down and embraced them both.
Benny, who had been blinking, lowered her head and muttered. “Shit. I already cried.”
They held each other for several minutes, only the sound of breathing passing between them. Nathan didn’t think about anything for a while. He simply felt. This warmth. This was what he had missed. He had never been so afraid in his life. It was a different kind of fear from when the man who called himself his father pushed him off a cliff.
“I missed you.”
What pushed Nathan’s psyche to the extreme wasn’t pain. Not the terrible wound swollen from the polar bear’s bite, not the poison the Rune of Kelsa couldn’t fully dispel, not the loneliness endured by chewing rats in a three-pyeong prison.
“I missed you.”
The possibility that he might never feel their body heat again while alive—that was what terrified him.
When the long embrace ended and they pulled apart, Benny was sniffling, her face covered in tears and snot. But Aspen simply asked, “Who?”
“Huh?”
“Who did you miss?”
Nathan licked his dry lips. This was frightening in its own way. Aspen poked his side with a mischievous grin. “If you’ve touched both, just say it confidently—I missed both of you. Don’t hedge and trail off while watching our reactions.”
“There are types of humans who stick their heads into dead ends at any point in life. Why was I like that?”
Benny blew her nose loudly and said, “Stop, stop. Don’t burden the patient. It’s bedtime.”
“Yes, patron.”
Aspen pushed Nathan down onto the bed. Then she kissed his forehead and whispered, “No matter how close you get by facing crises shoulder to shoulder, honestly, there’s a line that’s hard to accept emotionally. Like a love triangle.”
“That’s right.”
“Think about it from my position. Could you share Aspen Peres with a pink-haired elf man? Even if that elf became your one and only friend, it would be difficult, right? But I—”
“Would have crushed his head to death, right?”
Aspen glanced at the flinching Benny, looking slightly embarrassed. “I’ve had similar thoughts before, but not now. You know that, right? Friend?”
“I know. Friend.”
Benny quietly stepped back from Aspen. Only then did Nathan realize what slip of the tongue he’d made. An uncomfortable silence followed.
“Anyway, what I was trying to say was… well, at that compromise point… Ah. I don’t know.”
The atmosphere had turned grim. Aspen tried to salvage the derailed conversation but simply scratched her head as if it was too bothersome and moved on. Then she leaned down to Nathan’s ear.
“Don’t forget the promise.”
Nathan frowned. What promise?
Benny seemed to understand. Her face bright red, she silently patted Aspen’s shoulder and back, pushing her toward the door.
Nathan’s eyes widened as he searched his memory.
“The three of us—”
“Shut up! Don’t say it! T-time’s up. Go to sleep, Nathan! Off to dreamland!”
“Okay.”
“Tomorrow we’re doing a thorough examination. Who knows what illnesses you might have picked up over four years. You understand, right?”
“Yeah.”
Benny stammered out a threat telling him to stay put—don’t leave the hospital room, just sleep comfortably. Then she grunted as she pushed Aspen out like moving furniture. Aspen snickered and said goodbye.
“See you tomorrow.”
‘See you tomorrow.’ To be able to put such certainty into those words.
The faint light on the ceiling clicked off. Now only the warm embers of the fireplace remained. Yet Nathan couldn’t bring himself to sleep. Instead, he focused his senses outside the room.
“Far enough away now?”
“Far enough. Far enough that they absolutely can’t eavesdrop.”
Aspen, crouched silently in the corner of the hallway, began to cry without a sound. As her cheerful facade peeled away, it was now Benny who patted her back.
“We’re alive.”
“Yeah. We’re alive.”
After some time, the sound of patients chatting as they passed could be heard. The two quickly put on their masks. The entire hospital facility was an illegal hideout. Hiding one’s identity was the minimum security measure.
Aspen, having composed herself, suddenly asked as if remembering something. “So, have you still not found Kilika?”
“We found out who sent her out. It was those Hedonic bastards. They said they let her out when she asked. She said she’d be back by 4 AM.”
Benny exploded in frustration. “Does it make sense to leave her out in this situation? After barely escaping from someone who lived with their liver soaked in alcohol? That’s the problem with those who wear Hedonic ideology like fashion. Crazy bastards who think it’s their own freedom even if they die on the street!”
“I’ll look with the family members. Should we start by searching the bars in Graveyard Valley?”
“Thanks, Aspen. Looks like I’m in your debt again. I’ll let the Graveyard House guys know too. If we catch her this time, I’ll keep her locked in a private room until she forgets alcohol even exists in this world.”
“Might have to lock her up forever.”
Aspen had no idea that this joke would trigger someone’s trauma.
Carefully leaving the hospital room, Nathan tried to justify himself. There was a lot he was curious about. There was a possibility that Galarhorn’s situation was worse than he imagined. If it concerned Benny and Aspen, he needed to know. The fact that Aspen had shed tears behind his back after trying to reassure him suggested a lot. It wasn’t that his legs went weak at the words about locking her up forever. Nathan convinced himself of that… and sneaked off in the opposite direction from Aspen and Benny.
“Really that Sapiens? The living miracle who survived winning 100 arena fights? The guy who went around slapping the cheeks of those rude guys in the jewelry district?”
The sharp-eared boy who had been talking excitedly as if meeting an idol suddenly looked deflated.
“And the bad lower-worlder who endangers our kind hospital director?”
Until thirty minutes ago, Nathan had been unable to decide what to do. The long unfreedom of the arena had pushed him outward, while his solid trust in Aspen and Benny held him back. The conflicted Nathan suddenly remembered an important fact—he didn’t know the way out. In the end, he decided to enjoy his freedom as his instincts led. And now, he had been caught by a child while stealing and eating ice cream in the cafeteria.
What came before the rising self-loathing was appetite. Nathan swallowed another spoonful straight from the ladle and mumbled, “Both are right. But are you going to lower your speech or raise it? Pick one.”
Nathan himself had done it, but hearing it from someone else’s mouth was incredibly annoying.
“As expected!”
The boy raised his fist excitedly and cheered, then pretended to be serious and tapped the table with that fist. “What are you doing here? If you wander around the cafeteria at night, the director will scold you.”
The tiny Eleim chose to speak informally. Nathan cursed inwardly. Damn brat.
“What are you doing here.”
“Helping with hospital work. Tonight I’m on night patrol duty. The director said she’d cover my mom’s hospital bills with that. What are you doing here?”
Failing to change the subject, Nathan bit his lip. What should he answer? That he got scared and ran away because the word “lock her up” pressed his reverse scale of trauma? Or that he lost his mind over the sweet smell he couldn’t even glimpse in prison?
“…I just couldn’t stay still.”
“Well, a hero like you staying still…? No. Even a shameless lower-worlder like you knows shame!”
The Eleim boy still seemed unable to get a grasp. Nathan was starting to suspect if this kid’s illness was a mental disorder.
“Do you know what kind of things happened because of just you? The person helping the director got caught up in a gladiator fight, and many Eleim died and got hurt, you know.”
Nathan, who had been sitting on the refrigerator compartment, began to listen with wide eyes. The boy rambled on about Galarhorn’s situation as he pleased. Since it was the story of a low-level errand boy who didn’t know the circumstances, it would have been somewhat dramatized and exaggerated. Even taking that into account, Galarhorn’s situation was by no means good. Naturally, it was more than what Aspen and Benny had expressed. They had only held back that much because it wasn’t the time to voice their worries.
“And Kilika. My god. I never thought I’d feel sorry for the executioner.”
“I heard that. She lives drowning in alcohol, right?”
Nathan didn’t criticize her as an addict. He didn’t say it was her own fault either. However, the boy made a shocked face. It seemed like he had something he wanted to say written on his expression. How could you say something like that.
“…Is it my fault that she lives drowning in alcohol?”
“At least a little.”
It seemed like the hero Nathan had just been erased from the Eleim boy’s heart.
Nathan, who had shrunk back preemptively, asked out of courtesy. He wasn’t particularly curious. “Why. What else happened to her?”
A crow’s cry echoed at the crossroads. If you looked carefully along the suburban roadside, there was a bar like that. A small, old tavern where the smell of opium and cigarettes never faded. Even if shown to the most unprejudiced people in the world, it would be said to suit surrender more than ambition. Like moths drawn to embers, those who couldn’t reconcile with life gathered there without being told.
“Hodric. Where are you going.”
And occasionally, those who hunted such people also came. A man with tattoos running from the crown of his head to his arms chuckled mockingly, wearing a torn tin mask on his face.
“I didn’t go anywhere, executioner bitch.”
Kilika, dead drunk, smiled stupidly. “That’s a relief.”
A group of fierce-looking Eleim burst into loud laughter. The former executioner, so drunk that it was hard to tell if what came out of his mouth was breath or alcohol vapor, seemed unable to even distinguish who was who.
An amusing prank played on such an executioner. If you just wore the torn tin mask on your face, they called you “Hodric.” After Kilika entered this bar, a group of large men deliberately followed in about an hour later. And now they were taking turns wearing the mask and mocking Kilika. Like jackals playing by scaring a small animal.
The bar owner glanced at them uncomfortably, skillfully avoiding eye contact whenever their eyes met.
“What are you looking at. You fucking water-selling bastard.”
Unified attire, confident physiques, sharp longswords. They were clearly someone’s private soldier group. The young thugs, intoxicated as if the owner’s power was their own, wouldn’t hesitate even a little to beat someone to death.
The bar owner bowed his head as low as possible and stepped back. And inwardly pitied Kilika. When an Eleim fell into ruin, there were several rock bottoms they encountered. The executioner was one that could be counted among the worst scenarios. Being sold to a private arena to pay off debts and dying at the hands of an executioner, or becoming an executioner yourself. Even if you survived and became a butcher of your own kind, there was no chance to shine with your reputation. It was partly because of the perception that it was lowly work, and partly because there were plenty of people in the Heavens who had lost family to executioners. But the biggest reason was probably that since everyone feared failure, no one reached out to them. No one would pray for them.
“Hoodriik! No matter how pitiful your sister is, swearing isn’t allowed!”
Kilika’s hand, which had been waving to the side, fumbled for the mask. The tattooed man smacked that hand away. Water began to seep into the wood grain of the bar where Kilika had buried his face.
“Hodric. Where are you going. Don’t leave me behind.”
“Crazy bitch.”
“We were supposed to do it together. You never left me behind and ran away even in front of that pig Sakano. If you’re going, take me with you too…”
The tattoo-covered Eleim glanced at the leader leaning in the shadows. When the leader slightly shook his head, the tattooed Eleim pushed Kilika’s head away as if disgusted. The subordinates let out formal bursts of laughter.
“Hey, has anyone not tried this yet?”
When the Eleim lifted the mask, the smallest one in the group raised his hand excitedly. One left. They had all decided to try on the iron mask once, and the only one who hadn’t was the youngest. What to do with Kilika would be decided soon. That deadline had been extended.
“I haven’t tried it. I was always curious, so this is good.”
Someone snatched the mask away. The large men, who hadn’t noticed anyone entering, flinched. The old door of the dilapidated bar and the rotten wooden floor should have made some sound, but didn’t. While the person sitting to Kilika’s left looked bewildered, the hooded man sat in the empty seat to Kilika’s right. And he placed the mask he had taken saying he’d wear it on his elbow. As if preventing it from being taken away.
The Eleim group looked at him strangely. There was a crow perched on the man’s shoulder. The bird of ominous color tilted its head and stared at each of the Eleim in turn. As if asking what they were looking at.
“Caw.”
Kilika’s face, which had been blankly looking up at Nathan, broke into a smile. “Hodric?”
“No.”
“Hoooodric. You’re as tall as Hodric.”
“No. Be… Your friend is looking for you. You need to go back.”
Nathan answered indifferently. Kilika shuddered. “Not a friend. Don’t even bring up that bitch.”
“Why isn’t she a friend?”
“She keeps trying to stop me from drinking. Fuck. It’s annoying as hell.”
“Looking at you now, even I would do that if I were her. Get up.”
Kilika, who had been slumping, collapsed back onto the bar. With his lips pressed against the wooden board, Kilika mumbled. “Isn’t the world fucking shit? Everything’s wrong, and if you try to touch anything, you get hurt. Isn’t that strange?”
“Not strange. Do you know which elder you guys messed with, you Galarhorn’s hunting dog bitch?”
The tattooed Eleim twisted the beer away from Kilika’s hand. And poured it right over Kilika’s head. The gazes of the other Eleim soldiers could be felt. They were observing Nathan’s reaction. Pouring alcohol on Kilika was a calculated action too. Probably to see if they were on the same side or if there was emotional agitation. If they were on the same side, they were probably thinking of chopping him up finely.
Nathan looked down at Kilika. He seemed unaware of what kind of humiliation he was suffering. It was hard to tell if what was flowing down his cheek was tears or beer. Nathan sighed and jumped over the bar in one leap. Paying no mind to the crow startled and leaving his shoulder, or the Eleim soldiers and bar owner all flinching at once. Nathan grabbed a bottle and a glass from the bar cabinet one by one, jumped back over the bar to his original position. Then he served a new glass in front of Kilika, opened the bottle cap, and began pouring into the glass.
“What are you doiiing?”
“What do you think.”
It wasn’t like they had any particular friendship. Nor had they built enough of a relationship to warrant looking after him. It just seemed like someone had to do this. “Rest in peace.”