Chapter 200
Chapter 200
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 200
Chapter Title: Honey Rises in the City, Moon Flows on the Door. (5)
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Shall we not kill the Knight Order's Captain together?
Yeomyeong's first reaction to the sudden assassination request was refusal.
No matter what reward they offered, he had no intention of staining his blade for a thug. That wasn't what the power he'd gained was for.
Especially not if the target was Sancho's own superior.
Yeomyeong replied that he had no desire to aid a criminal organization's coup, and Sancho gave a wry smile before beginning his tale.
The story of a certain warden discarded into this world decades ago.
By the time his story ended, Yeomyeong could say nothing.
Was it because it was a tale he'd never heard in any textbook? Or because he empathized with the man's misfortune?
He couldn't tell which. Instead of outright refusing, he said he'd think about it.
Sancho didn't press further. He simply asked him to give it serious thought.
Yeomyeong left the hotel room with his mind in turmoil.
Author, player, warden, and protagonist.
In this world tangled by fate, where was he headed? After completing his revenge, what would he become?
Like unraveling a knotted ball of thread, his thoughts connected one after another for a long while.
Finally, Yeomyeong arrived at the suite where his companions waited.
Perhaps because he'd been gone so long, the Saintess and Neti greeted him with worried faces.
What had they talked about? Was everything alright?...
Yeomyeong explained his conversation with Sancho, mixing lies and truths as needed, then realized Seti and the Necromancer weren't in the room and asked why.
We split up the rooms. One for watching the Necromancer, one for brother-in-law to sleep alone.
Neti's answer. Yeomyeong considered stopping by Seti's room but shook his head.
It was time for everyone but the moon to sleep. The Saintess and Neti were half-asleep from waiting for him.
Yeomyeong said he'd see them in the morning and left. As his back receded, the Saintess jokingly called out that he could sleep with them, but Yeomyeong replied by conjuring an ice shard with magic and tossing it her way.
Thwack Leaving the sound of the ice shard striking her forehead behind, Yeomyeong headed to the suite.
The room he entered with his keycard was as luxurious as the academy's VIP quarters.
It was as large as four or five regular hotel rooms combined, and the cityscape was vividly visible through the window.
A city shrouded in darkness, a rippling dimensional gate, and his own reflection in the glass.
Yeomyeong took it all in for a moment before sighing and heading to the bedroom.
He considered room service but decided eating alone in the middle of the night was pathetic.
He'd just eat a big breakfast.
Yeomyeong washed up roughly and threw himself onto the massive bed.
The covers enveloped his body, darkness his eyes.
Burying all his complicated thoughts in drowsiness, he was about to drift off when...
***
Creeeak
Someone opened the door. Normally, he'd have drawn his sword and leaped up, but it didn't happen.
The soft footsteps approaching were far too familiar.
“…Yeomyeong? You asleep?”
Seti's voice slipped through the bedroom door.
When Yeomyeong didn't reply, she cautiously entered and lay down beside him as if it were the most natural thing.
Close enough to hear each other's breaths.
Instead of answering, Yeomyeong extended his arm toward her. Seti lifted her head slightly and pillowed it on his arm.
“What'd you talk about?”
Seti pressed his arm with her head and asked. As her silky hair brushed his forearm, Yeomyeong honestly spilled everything.
The warden and his life, the Knight Order Captain with dementia, and his personal impression that it didn't seem like a lie.
Seti listened quietly for a long time, then summed up his feelings in one sentence.
“What do you want to do, Yeomyeong?”
“Hell if I know.”
“But you'd regret not helping, right?”
“...”
Silent affirmation. Seti smiled faintly, then lifted her head and buried her face in his chest.
“Don't worry too much about the downsides. That Sancho guy's number two around here, right? Might as well settle your bad blood with the thugs, track the Necromancer, and get some fake IDs out of it.”
Her voice was gentle, as if to ease his worries even a little. Yeomyeong chuckled and pulled her closer.
The warmth of another body, the scent of her hair, the slowly heating silence.
They embraced like that for a while.
Seti rubbed her forehead against his chest and spoke.
“Hey, know what Neti said when I grabbed Uragan's Hilt earlier?”
“…What?”
“Did you do it from behind?”
“...”
Even Yeomyeong, who'd heard his share of crude talk living with the back-alley cleaners, was thrown off.
Feeling it, Seti giggled softly.
“My sister's crazy, I swear.”
“…Yeah.”
“Our dung beetle here's got amazing self-control, right?”
It was unclear if it was praise or teasing. Yeomyeong didn't respond.
As silence stretched again, Seti's toes wiggled and poked his.
Yeomyeong tried to pull his foot away, but she clamped her toes around his.
Toes were surprisingly sensitive, and Yeomyeong unwittingly chuckled.
Wriggling toes, tightly embracing arms.
Yeomyeong gently pushed her back and lowered his head to meet her eyes.
In the darkness, her blue eyes sparkled faintly, overlaid by his golden ones.
Seti didn't look away or act awkward. He was the one person in this world she could act spoiled with.
His cheeks flushed with rising emotion, his stomach aching. Seti voiced her surging feelings like ladling water from a basin.
“Thank you.”
Normally, he'd say 'no problem,' but Yeomyeong brought up something else.
“Not that.”
Mischievous smile, rough hand stroking her cheek.
Seti poked his side and replied.
“…I like you, I love you. What answer do you want?”
“Doesn't matter.”
Yeomyeong gently pushed her away and added.
“I already know.”
A small laugh—normally, they'd kiss here and part...
But Seti suddenly felt something else.
Was it because he'd been alone with the Saintess on the train? Or the massive moonlight illuminating the bedroom?
She didn't know. Didn't need to.
Before Yeomyeong could take her hand, Seti grabbed his cheek first.
“…Why?”
His features twitched into something between a wry smile and a grin.
Genuine bewilderment he hadn't shown lately.
Seeing it, Seti's heart fluttered like petals in spring rain.
“Um… hey, Yeomyeong?”
She hadn't come here planning this.
“I can't hold back anymore.”
“…”
Before Yeomyeong could reply, Seti slid her knee between his legs.
An instinctive movement etched into her genes.
Yeomyeong squeezed his eyes shut, neither pushing her away nor pulling her in.
“Hey… Seti, this is…”
“You hate it?”
Her voice slightly wet. When Yeomyeong opened his eyes, he saw Seti's frightened face.
Those pitiful eyes, the dandelion-like fragility that would scatter if refused.
It snapped a line. One that wouldn't return for a long time.
Wordlessly, Yeomyeong reached out and placed his hand on her waist.
He slipped it under her clothes, tracing the deep curve of her lower back. Smooth as ivory followed his embracing touch.
“Huh? Wha?”
Seti stiffened in surprise but didn't reject his hand. She relaxed and followed it.
Entwined toes, ragged breaths.
Seti recalled a gentle hill with a massive tree growing from it.
Summer's kiss, autumn's arrival—she shed her leaves with the tree.
Winter's chill, fuzzy buds sleeping beneath.
This time, spring's warm lips, approaching breaths.
Something between panic and instinct guided her as Seti placed her hand on the tree.
Throbbing buds, scorching sun, ah, maddening season.
Returning summer flicked its tongue tip, whispering. Under a confession hot as the sun, flowing springwater.
Autumn passed quickly. Pushing aside what might have been blankets or leaves, the two gazed at each other like parched flowers.
Winter, silence filling with emotion instead of words.
Approaching eyes, receding anxiety.
Snow exists not to melt, but all snow melts someday.
“…Come.”
Moonlight averts its gaze at the labored confession.
An unforgettable night, fire in winter, soul in passion.
Unicorn's tears, Byron's joy, tender knocks on a closed door.
On untouched snowfield—Yeomyeong left his mark.
***
On the outskirts of Gemini City, in a wealthy suburb clustered with villas of rich Earthlings.
A group of beastmen approached the shrouded site stealthily.
Massive frames vaulted fences and crossed roads without the police spotting a single hair.
Wolf beastmen muffling steps, bear beastmen dodging moonlight? No.
The police's incompetence was simply the result of too many years compromising with crime.
Anyway, the covert infiltration continued for a while.
The lead beastman suddenly halted.
He was a lion beastman a head taller than the others, his appearance extraordinary.
A majestic face, bursting muscles, and a golden mane gleaming even in the night.
All the beastmen held their breath before the lion who embodied 'king.'
Soon, footsteps echoed from beyond the darkness.
Thud, thud.
A one-eyed dwarf in monocle appeared before them. Some beastmen ground their teeth at the sight.
They had to. This dwarf was infamous even in the Knight Order.
“Jepun Digarak. Didn't expect you here. Shouldn't you be at the hotel?”
The lion beastman spoke first. The one-eyed dwarf, Jepun, pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it before replying.
“Goldie.”
“…My name is Golden Fang.”
“Yeah, Goldie. Quit shaking and go home.”
Click, click—the lighter's sound. As the dwarf's smoke rose, the beastmen's eyes glinted in the dark.
“I don't know who sent you or what they said, but this ain't your business.”
“...”
“So turn around, wash your feet, and hit the sack.”
Everyone present knew the beastmen wouldn't obey.
The question was what means they'd brought.
“Jepun, don't you think this city's peace has lasted too long?”
As if his words were a signal, the beastmen bared teeth and drew the firearms slung on their backs in unison.
Massive automatic shotguns, even by beastman standards.
Earth-made monster-hunters for sure. Probably loaded with special slug rounds.
“Damn, the mafia, you guys… you've gone all the way, huh.”
Beastmen allied with Earthlings. Jepun gave a hollow laugh at the muzzles aimed his way.
Golden Fang growled.
“As if the Knight Order's any better, locking up the Captain.”
“...”
“Our Brotherhood will grant that one freedom, not the power-blind Vice Captain.”
Jepun ignored the nonsense. Instead, he inhaled deeply and exhaled thick smoke.
Rippling silence danced with the smoke under moonlight.
When the cigarette burned to the filter and crickets chirped from somewhere.
Jepun spat a curt assessment.
“Save your bullshit for your daddy's funeral.”
“…How dare you.”
Had he touched a nerve? The lion's face twisted.
Jepun laughed and tossed the butt. The instant it hit the ground.
Bang!
The gunshot pierced the night.
Too faint for lazy cops, but enough to draw the old sword-swinger from the fake barracks.
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