Chapter 190
Chapter 190
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 190
Chapter Title: Refined Lady, Old Ties, American, Long-Standing Grudge (3)
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Yeomyeong didn't head straight to his cabin. Instead, he wandered through various parts of the train to get a sense of the layout.
Other passenger cars occupied by mercenaries, the cafe car, the shower car...
It was as luxurious and spacious as a small hotel, but a train was still a train.
With the narrow corridors and staff milling about everywhere, avoiding CIA agents all the way to the LA dimensional gate would be a miracle.
No matter how he looked at it, covering his face with the illusion of bloodshot tears and keeping a low profile was the best course of action.
'A fun trip is off the table.'
The moment Yeomyeong grabbed the door handle to his own cabin while thinking that.
Voices came from beyond the door—Corvus and the Saintess.
"No, that's not...!"
"What's... the problem...? Partial... Earth..."
"But that's... greed..."
He had no idea what they were talking about, but their tones were far from normal.
The Saintess especially sounded so flustered that he could picture her face turning red just from her voice.
'...Up to their weird talk again?'
Yeomyeong shook his head and opened the door. The Saintess jumped in surprise. Like a puppy caught doing something naughty.
But her shock didn't end there.
She saw Yeomyeong's face hidden by the illusion and hastily drew her revolver, aiming it at him.
A deadly muzzle. A brief silence.
By the time Yeomyeong nonchalantly entered the cabin and took a seat, Corvus broke the silence with a sharp click of his beak.
"Saintess, take a closer look. It's my disciple."
"Huh?"
Only then did the Saintess realize the face was familiar and lowered her gun.
"...Why are you walking around with that old lady face? You scared me."
"You think I'm not scared, getting a gun pointed at me? Fix that habit of drawing first."
"..."
As the Saintess cleared her throat awkwardly, Corvus asked.
"Didn't you say you were meeting old comrades? Why cover your face with an illusion?"
"Some annoying trouble cropped up... Let's start with that."
Yeomyeong summarized the outside events as briefly as possible.
CIA agents were on the train, so he'd have to keep his face hidden for a while...
Once the short explanation ended, Corvus gave a simple reaction.
"What a hassle."
"What should we do?"
Yeomyeong singled out Corvus.
The others could just cover their faces with illusions, but for the beastman Corvus, his sheer size was the problem.
She seemed to be thinking the same thing, clicking her beak as she pondered.
"Disciple, turn around for a moment... No, just face away briefly?"
Suddenly? Though puzzled, Yeomyeong gladly turned his back.
Right after, a series of cracking sounds came from Corvus's direction.
Sounds of skin and flesh stretching, bones realigning.
'Transforming here?'
That massive crow beastman form would draw even more attention...
As Yeomyeong mulled that over and heard the Saintess gasp in awe to pass the time.
"You can turn around now."
"..."
When he looked back, an unfamiliar woman stood in front of the Saintess.
Black hair reaching her thighs, taller than even Yeomyeong, wearing what was undoubtedly the Saintess's dress.
Whether due to her pale skin or the hollow eyes ringed with dark circles, she looked exactly like a witch straight out of a fairy tale.
"...You can transform into a human?"
The question carried the implication of why she hadn't done it sooner. Corvus waved her hand dismissively.
"You think I know a single transformation spell? But this... it's no small discomfort."
"..."
"It's like... for a human, clenching your gut tight all day. Not much different. See, my mana inside is already churning."
Grumbling like that, Corvus glanced at the Saintess and said.
"Then... I'll leave you with the Saintess. I'll head to the next cabin and inform Miss Seti."
No need? Before Yeomyeong could respond, Corvus opened the door and left.
Raven feathers scattered in the air. An odd silence.
Now alone in the cabin, the Saintess began fidgeting with her fingers without a word.
Yeomyeong watched her for a moment, then stood and approached.
"Let's cover your face first. Mind if I remove your eyepatch?"
"...The eyepatch?"
The Saintess pulled her head back slightly, as if something was wrong. What now.
"No to the eyepatch."
"..."
Wordplay? Yeomyeong tilted his head just in case, but the Saintess covered it with both hands, dead serious.
"If it means taking off the eyepatch, I'm not doing it. I can just stay in the cabin, right?"
"...No food, no bathroom, no showers?"
"..."
"For that little eyepatch? You serious?"
"...Can't I keep it?"
Yeomyeong stared at her silently.
The Saintess clamped her mouth shut and turned away, refusing to yield.
Silence filled the space between them, their stubbornness clashing for a long while.
After more than ten minutes, the Saintess finally raised the white flag.
"Fine, fine! I'll take it off!"
"...Don't say things that could lead to weird misunderstandings if others hear."
Whether Yeomyeong scolded her or not, the Saintess clutched the eyepatch and hesitated a good while longer.
Just as Yeomyeong lost patience and moved to force it, she sighed deeply, like someone steeling herself.
"...Don't look at my eyes. If you do, we're done."
Hesitantly, the Saintess carefully removed the eyepatch.
A moment later, the revealed eye was...
Tightly shut.
But even just the long white eyelashes peeking below the eyelid suggested it was a normally pretty eye.
Why hide an eye like that? Something wrong with the pupil? A complex?
Whatever it was, there was no reason to pry if she wanted it hidden that badly.
Yeomyeong placed his hand on the closed-eyed Saintess's forehead and overlaid the blood-tear illusion.
"Done."
"Already?"
Perhaps surprised at how quick it was, the Saintess blinked in a daze, then checked the mirror by the bed.
"Uh, huh?"
But her reaction was lukewarm.
"What is this old lady face...?"
As she said, the Saintess's reflected face was that of a plump Korean ajumma.
The Saintess poked at her changed face, then cautiously asked.
"Whose face is this? Wait... someone from your family?"
Yeomyeong shrugged.
"Nah? It's the gukbap ajumma."
A favorite spot he used to visit with his brothers during his cleaning days. Yeomyeong steadied his suddenly wistful heart. Wonder what she's up to these days? Still in business?
"..."
"The seonji gukbap was killer there..."
As Yeomyeong gazed into the past with a distant expression.
The Saintess scrunched her face and shot to her feet.
"Hey! Change it right now! I hate this face!"
"What now?"
"You really don't know?!"
"...Don't judge by looks. She was a nice lady."
The words "nice lady" made the Saintess flinch. She glanced between the mirror and Yeomyeong, then asked carefully.
"...What kind of connection did you have with her?"
"Hmm... Nothing major. She gave generous extras. Said I looked just like her runaway husband in his youth."
Yeomyeong joked, and the Saintess could hold back no longer, smacking his forehead.
"You little... Whatever! Change it now!"
Slap, slap—after taking a few soft palm strikes, Yeomyeong chuckled.
"It's just a disguise anyway. Why fuss over the looks."
It was logical, but the Saintess kept stubbornly complaining.
With this chance alone in the cabin, this face meant no mood—let alone a kiss—on the way to the LA gate.
That wouldn't do. For their future together as three, he needed to make at least one tender memory now...
As the Saintess pinched Yeomyeong's side with that thought.
The cabin plunged into darkness.
***
...A dream?
The word Yeomyeong thought of right after the cabin went dark.
The sticky foreign sensation crawling over his skin, the floating drop below.
It was astonishingly similar to being sucked into a trance.
The difference was he wasn't alone this time.
"Yeomyeong, what... is this?"
The Saintess gripped his hand tightly, sensing something off.
Yeomyeong patted her back reassuringly, then went alone to the window to check outside.
"...Tch."
Sure enough, the grasslands visible from the window moments ago were gone.
All that remained was a smog-filled drab sky and endless swamps stretching out.
At least the tracks were intact, as the train kept moving.
Or it felt that way, anyway—an illusion perhaps.
"Sigh... Trouble follows us everywhere."
Ignoring the Saintess's grumble, Yeomyeong left the window and opened the cabin door. The Saintess grabbed ammo from their luggage and followed.
Outside in the train corridor, darkness reigned.
Spreading mana to check, the adjacent cabin where Seti's group should be felt empty.
Were only Yeomyeong and the Saintess pulled into the dream? Or was Seti's group dragged into a different one?
But the most pressing question was who dragged him here and why.
'Is the target the Saintess? Or...'
As questions spawned more questions, another one spoke up.
[What? Why one, no, five?]
A whiny voice, like dozens of mouths speaking at once.
Turning toward the repulsive sound, Yeomyeong spotted a corpse standing down the corridor.
The mummy-like desiccated body clutched a grotesque staff made of bundled bones and muscles, its tip-eye wriggling nonstop, scanning Yeomyeong and the Saintess.
[What are you? Not American?]
"..."
[Strange? No way this many, none White Hour]
The mummy's words cut off there. Someone fired from behind it.
Bang!
A clearly magical red bullet pierced the mummy's forehead, and its head exploded with a splat.
As the headless corpse crumpled and the Saintess readied her revolver.
Someone approached from down the corridor with clicking heels. A woman with short orange-red hair close to red, wearing glasses.
"...CIA agent."
Yeomyeong whispered to the Saintess, narrowing her eyes.
...Kill that one, and no need for disguises, right?
As the Saintess harbored impious, almost wicked thoughts, the agent stepped over the mummy corpse and approached Yeomyeong.
At a proper distance—gun range but out of fist reach—she spoke.
"...Mr. Rhett Butler?"
"What an unexpected place to meet. Ms. Scarlett O'Hara."
"You're not a hallucination, are you?"
He shook his head, and Scarlett glanced back at the Saintess.
"...And her?"
As Yeomyeong thought of a suitable alias.
The Saintess quickly answered.
"His wife."
Wife? Scarlett looked slightly surprised, then averted her face and said.
"Ah... A married couple. If it's not too much trouble, may I ask for your assistance?"
"...No, you may not. It would be a bother."
Only after Yeomyeong elbowed her side did the Saintess pout and step back.
"We can offer any help needed. But Ms. Scarlett? Any guess where we are?"
"Yes, just a guess, but..."
The moment Scarlett began her explanation.
The headless mummy lurched up.
[Found you, American!]
Even with only its lower jaw left, its repulsive voice rang clear.
It was only natural. The voice wasn't from its throat, but from the train corridor itself.
[Fallen star, devour!]
With the loathsome declaration, the entire train corridor began twisting.
Flesh blanketed the corridor, windows shattered, darkness poured in—that very moment.
Yeomyeong drew his sword, the Saintess pulled her trigger.
Glowing sword aura, blessed bullets fired.
Beyond the ducking, startled Scarlett, the two lights filled the corridor.
* * *