Chapter Text
After the drama ends, I go upstairs and get ready for bed. Seeing as I don’t want to risk waking Mom later on, I set the alarm on my phone to vibrate, ready to go off an hour from now.
I crawl beneath the covers, close my eyes, and almost instantly fall asleep.
I have a very strange dream, in which Mom is secretly an ice cream that breathes fire, and Dad is a buddhist monk trying to keep her safe from the law, because it’s illegal for ice cream to breathe fire.
I’m just at the part where Dad vows to renounce salt for the rest of his life in return for the King of Sugarland granting him and Mom sanctuary when my alarm goes off, snapping me wide awake in an instant.
| You have slept in a bed!
| Your HP and MP have been completely restored.
| All status effects have been removed.
Oh crap.
“Status,” I breathe out, my eyes zeroing in on the bottom of the screen and... damn it.
My emergency pendant is no longer active.
I let out an annoyed sigh. Really, I should’ve realized that this would happen, I’ve been waking up to this notification for almost a week now. In fact, I’m blaming the mental strain of being tortured practically non-stop for an entire day for not thinking of this the instant I got the effect.
“Close status.” Picking up my still vibrating phone, I turn off the alarm and open my contacts. I need to call Sun-il.
...Except while it’s possible that he’s still awake, he’s most likely asleep by now. His grandfather is even stricter about curfews than Mom is.
I text him that the pendant is no longer active instead. Seeing as he doesn’t answer, I’m assuming that I’m right about him being asleep. Admittedly, I could be wrong, it often takes Sun-il a while to answer. Usually it doesn’t in the evening, though.
Doesn’t really matter if he’s awake or not, I suppose. I have other things to do.
Like starting the monumental task of getting through the basics. So.
“Options.” I adjust my Color and Brightness until I can see clearly in the dark. Interestingly, I don’t need to increase them as much as the previous nights. While I’d already realized that my senses are stronger, this really puts the difference in perspective.
I increase Sound significantly as well. Mom is already asleep of course, but if she gets up tonight for whatever reason, I need to be aware of it. Not just because she hates it when I stay up beyond what she considers to be too late an hour, though that’s definitely a factor as well, but because I need to be able to put my books away before she can spot them. After our fight, I really don’t want to find out how she’d react to me reading about magic.
I need a few moments to get used to the increased volume, but it soon reaches the point where it mostly becomes background noise. I open my inventory and pull out both boxes. Handily, one of them contains a list of all the book I was given, and they’re even listed in the order I’m supposed to read them.
I stuff all the books into my inventory, and after a moment of deliberation, I put the now empty boxes away as well. Best not to leave any evidence behind, after all.
Having finished that, I read the title of the first book I’m supposed to read, put the list away, and pull out The Story Of A Hundred Leaves. It’s a thick book with a very fancy cover. The illustration of the tree on it is breathtakingly detailed.
Excited to finally learn more about the Abyss, I quickly start reading. The index lets me know that this is a collection of short stories, and as the title implies, there are one hundred of them. The individual titles lets me know that they’re all about mythology.
What the index doesn’t tell me is that this is a children’s storybook.
At first I assume that I’m mistaken, but it only takes me one page to realize that I’m not. This is definitely a children’s storybook. As in, the kind that adults read out loud to small kids. Even ignoring the large and admittedly gorgeous pictures, the language is far too simplistic for it to be anything else.
I don’t know whether to be insulted or not. On one hand, this is meant for small kids. On the other... no, there really is no way to make this anything other than insulting.
Just how dumb do they think I am?
Annoyed, I nonetheless continue reading. They must’ve given me this for a reason, after all.
For their sake, it better be a damn good one.
As I continue reading, my annoyance makes way for fascination instead. The story describes the events leading up to Dangun’s birth, a legend that literally everyone knows. Yet this is a version I’ve never encountered before.
In this version, Hwanung isn’t approached by a Tiger and a Bear wanting to become human. Instead, the Tiger and Bear are from a clan of animal shapeshifters, who are at war with an invading clan of fire manipulators. And the shapeshifters are losing. Badly. The reason the Tiger and Bear go to Hwanung is to beg for his aid.
Hwanung, just like in the version I know, tells them that if they remain in a dark cave for one hundred days with nothing but a handful of mugwort and twenty cloves of garlic each to stave off their hunger, he will grant them their wish.
The Tiger soon loses patience and returns to help fight off the invaders, unable to sit by while his loved ones are in danger. The Bear, on the other hand, stays inside the cave for the entire hundred days, constantly resisting the urge to follow the Tiger’s example. When she finally walks out into the sunlight on the one hundred and first, Hwanung is waiting for her. As promised, he aids her clan and saves them from annihilation. And, as an added bonus, he’s so impressed by her self-discipline that he asks her to become his wife. Apparently he didn’t expect her to be able to complete the task.
The Bear agrees, and their union results in the birth of their demigod son, Dangun.
After finishing the story, I feel like I better understand why I was given this book. These aren’t myths, aren’t an exaggeration of the truth. Or rather, they’re no more exaggerated than any other ancient history. Emphasis on history.
This really happened. A clan of animal shapeshifters really was at war with another clan of fire manipulators, and they really did beg an actual god for aid. And that god really did aid them. In person.
Honestly, this is kind of mind blowing. Sun-il already said that most legends are based on real magical events, but it’s one thing to be told that, another thing entirely to have a concrete example of what that means. To understand that these legends actually happened in all their supernatural glory.
And Sun-il is a direct descendant of that supernatural glory.
I start reading the next story with anticipation, curious as to what differences I’ll encounter compared to the version I know.
I soon lose track of time. Normally I’m not a fan of reading, but knowing that these stories are real makes them incredibly interesting. They’re also quick and easy to read, courtesy of them being meant for small children.
I’m almost halfway through the book when my phone goes off. It’s on silent, but with my current settings, the screen lighting up is impossible to miss. It’s literally blinding.
I glance at the clock on my nightstand before picking up.
It’s four thirty in the morning.
Seriously? Sun-il is already awake? Did he just wake up for some reason and decide to check his phone before going back to sleep, or is this his usual time for getting up? I really hope not, that would just be cruel. To get up at four thirty every Sunday? Even though I practically don’t need to sleep anymore myself, the idea alone is enough to horrify me.
...Unless he also doesn’t need as much sleep because of his magic?
I answer the call. “Do–”
“What–” I yank my phone away with a wince. I forgot about my increased Sound. Well no, I didn’t, but I hadn’t thought of how it would influence his voice. “–do you mean, it’s no longer active?” he demands, still sounding like he’s talking through a megaphone even with the added distance.
“Not so loud,” I breathe out after returning my phone to my ear, remembering that I need to keep quiet so as to not wake up Mom. Fortunately, I don’t hear her get up.
“Loud?” Sun-il returns incredulously and at a thankfully much softer volume. “How– never mind, not important. Answer the question, Jee-han.”
“Status effects get removed when I sleep in a bed,” I explain.
Sun-il lets out a sigh that’s half tired, half exasperated, and wholly disgusted. I can actually hear him rub his forehead. “Hang on, I’m coming over.”
“You do realize that there aren’t any busses running at this hour, right?” I point out dryly.
“You do realize that I can run faster than a bus, right?” he mocks back.
So that’s why he always waves me off when I offer to accompany him to his stop. Well no, I haven’t offered that in ages, but I haven’t precisely because I know that he’ll just wave me off.
“You actually run everywhere you need to go, don’t you?” I ask, fascinated by this realization. Really, his magic explains so many of his quirks. Not to mention that it’s incredibly interesting to realize just how much his power influences his daily life.
The sheer scale of how much he managed to keep hidden from me is unbelievable.
“Fastest way to travel, really,” he answers in a distracted voice. Judging from the noises I’m hearing, he’s either getting out of bed or he’s grabbing clothes to change into. “I’ll be there in ten.” With that, he hangs up.
I put down my phone and resume reading the story of Bari’s journey to Mount Dongae.
I’ve finished both that story and then next when I hear a loud tapping on my window, making me turn towards it.
Sun-il, his hair an even wilder mess than usual and his expression tight in a way I don’t like seeing, is holding himself up with one hand placed down the windowsill. While I know that he’s holding up his entire weight with that hand, he looks like there’s solid ground beneath his feet instead, that’s how effortless he makes it seem.
“Options,” I open while getting up, and lower my Sound a little. This way I won’t have to worry about Sun-il being too loud while still being able to watch out for Mom. I won’t be able to hear her get up anymore, but I’ll hear it if she opens her bedroom door.
I close my options and open the window.
Sun-il, without a hint of warning, swings himself inside and grabs the pendant I’m still wearing. I almost slap his hand away on instinct, but the way his expression remains so unpleasantly tight lets me catch the reflex just in time.
After a brief moment, he lets go with a grimace. “I can’t believe you’ve actually destroyed the enchantment,” he declares in a relatively soft voice full of real disgust.
“And good morning to you too,” I counter, bemused by him being the rude one for once.
Sun-il replies with a look that means he’s really not in the mood for our usual banter, making my amusement fade.
“You can’t just activate it again?” That’s what I’d assumed would happen, really. Either now or when I see his grandfather later on.
“Note that I used the word destroy,” he retorts in a genuinely insulting way. I give him an unimpressed look. While I understand that he’s in a bad mood, that doesn’t give him the right to treat me like I’m an idiot.
Sun-il lets out a tired sigh and rubs his forehead. “You didn’t just disconnect from it, you’ve somehow unraveled the enchantment itself. It’s just plain metal now,” he apologizes by offering a more detailed explanation.
“You can’t enchant it again?” I asks calmly. While he’s aware of his own mood, that doesn’t miraculously makes it better. The least I can do is not aggravate him further.
“No, that’s not how it works,” Sun-il replies in an equally calm way, careful not to take his frustration out on me. “The enchantment is woven into the metal during the crafting of the necklace. We can’t cast it after it’s already finished, it simply doesn’t stick.”
Wait. “You mean this is handcrafted?” I thought they’d just bought this thing and put a spell on it. After all, why make it look so cheap if it’s handcrafted?
“It is. Which is why we can’t just give you a new one every day, it takes time to craft them, and we don’t have that large a reserve,” he explains. I open my mouth to ask why not, because this seems like the kind of item you’d want to have a huge stock of. “The enchantment fades after about three weeks if it isn’t anchored to someone,” he answers the question before I need to ask.
“So what do we do instead?” I change my question to, because it’s clear that we need to find an alternative. Or rather, it’s clear that Sun-il needs an alternative for his peace of mind.
“We teach you how to signal for help on your own,” he answers promptly. Guess I know what training will be focusing on today.
“How do we do that?” I’m really curious. If abilities are so wildly different from one another, how is there a general way to ask for help? Or does the manner change according to each power?
“We need to run some tests before I can answer that,” Sun-il replies. I suppose that means there are indeed different ways of signaling for help.
Sun-il lets out another sigh and tilts back his head, forcefully putting the subject out of his mind for now. Which means that he’s going to change the topic.
I briefly debate on whether to allow it or not. On one hand, I’m still curious. On the other, this entire thing has put Sun-il in an awful mood and he’s trying to pull himself out of it.
Guess I’ll save my questions for later.
As expected, when Sun-il meets my gaze again, he asks something completely unrelated to the previous subject. “Why is your door broken?”
“Mom and I had a fight,” I explain.
Sun-il replies with a pointed look. See, I know you think that explains things, but it really doesn’t.
“I was mad at her, so I slammed my door as hard as I could to annoy her, forgetting about my increased strength,” I elaborate.
Sun-il blinks with surprise, before he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Right,” he says to himself, having realized something and not bothering to share that realization with me.
I feel my eyes narrow and cross my arms, my hackles rising. “What?” I demand.
The asshole actually waves my question away. “Nothing, just thought of something.”
“And what the hell did you think of?” I snap, barely remembering to keep my voice down. Seriously, he’s keeping secrets from me again?
My demand makes Sun-il give me a startled and confused look. “I just realized that we need to add control exercises to your training already,” he answers in a tone that says he really doesn’t understand why I’m reacting like this.
It’s enough to make me deflate. He’s right, I’m overreacting. A lot.
I suppose I’m more affected by my fight with Mom than I thought I was.
“Sorry,” I apologize for snapping at him. He didn’t deserve that. This time.
Unsurprisingly, my reply makes him frown. “What’s wrong?”
I hesitate. I... don’t want to tell him what the fight was about. Not yet. Hypocritical, I know, but if I talk about it now, I’ll just get mad at Mom again. Just feel hurt again.
I’m really not in the mood for that.
“I had a fight with Mom,” I repeat, summing up the essence of what’s bothering me. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I add as he prepares to ask for more details.
For a moment, Sun-il wavers on whether to drop the topic or not. Highly unusual, normally he immediately accepts it when I don’t want to talk about something. Though given how badly he’s been dealing with the whole I-have-magic thing, I suppose that I shouldn’t be surprised by this.
I realize that I’ve taken on an aggressively defensive posture when his own softens. “Okay,” he agrees to drop this, making me relax.
Silence falls. It’s a nice silence.
Naturally, Sun-il breaks it. “I can’t believe you destroyed it by sleeping.”
“I assume that’s more than just unusual?” I retort in a tone that means it would be nice if you didn’t constantly forget that I don’t yet know what is and isn’t normal for magic.
“No more unusual than everything else about your ability,” he returns with a sunny smile, silently adding I didn’t think it possible, but your ability is even weirder than you are.
“I can’t help it that my power is so amazing,” I brag idly, relaxing even further now that we’ve fallen into our usual banter.
“I was wondering how long you’d be able to keep yourself from bragging.”
“About as long as you’re able to keep yourself from insulting me.”
“Insulting you? Me?” The mock innocence he shows just makes the denial even more absurd. “Whatever did I do to give you that impression?”
“Want me to list the events alphabetically or chronologically?”
“Your habit of misjudging situations truly worries me,” he says in a ridiculously earnest way. I chuckle, and it’s enough to make him lose the battle against his own grin.
Speaking of judging things.
“Hey, can you hide me? I want to Observe the pendant.” Another thing I really should’ve done yesterday. My mental fatigue had been affecting me a lot more than I thought it had.
“I already am,” Sun-il informs me. In that case.
I lift the pendant and say “Observe.”
| Chunbumoon’s Emergency Pendant (inactive)
| A metal necklace previously enchanted to signal the Chunbumoon Clan for help. The enchantment has been permanently removed.
It really is a shame that I didn’t Observe it yesterday. I’m curious about what the description would’ve said when it was still active.
“What does it say?” Sun-il asks. I obligingly read out the description. He shakes his head with wry bemusement. “So, nothing beyond the obvious.”
“I like that it states the obvious,” I say truthfully. It’s nice that I don’t have to worry about missing something that might be obvious to experienced users, but which aren’t obvious to a noob like me.
Sun-il grins, warm and fond. Of course you do.
“Seeing as it’s no longer active, do I have to keep wearing it?” I ask, because if not, I’m taking this thing off.
“No, you don’t.” Awesome. “In fact, give it to me.”
“What are you going to with it?” I ask, taking it off and handing it over.
“Melt it down and make another,” he replies while putting it in his pocket.
“How frugal of you,” I quip in a tone that means and here I thought you were going to throw it away like the rich kid you are.
“Waste not, want not,” he mocks in a tone that means it’s not healthy to let yourself be blinded by prejudice. “Any other skill you want to use?” he asks before I can offer a retort. “If not, I need to go.”
Already? That’s sudden even for him.
“I have a lot to do before you come over,” he explains. “You becoming a natural has messed up my entire schedule. I haven’t even had breakfast yet,” he declares like it’s the greatest travesty in the world.
“Poor you,” I deliver deadpan.
“I know,” he returns like I delivered it sincerely instead. “Delaying breakfast, of all meals. Honestly, the things I do for you.”
“I’m grateful for everything you do,” I say with a smile, meaning every word. I don’t know what I would’ve done without his help.
My open gratitude makes Sun-il’s eyes widen with surprise, before he averts his gaze with a smile that’s both startled and full of bashful pleasure.
It’s cute how sincere gratitude sometimes makes him react like this. Not in the least because it leaves him at a loss for words, a rare event indeed.
Sun-il awkwardly clears his throat and fidgets just the slightest bit with his hands, embarrassed by his own reaction. “You should be,” he tries and fails to banter like usual.
I don’t reply, just watch his mental flailing with a fond smile.
“Right, I’ll be going now,” he says a touch too quickly. I chuckle, but there actually is one more issue I want to address before he goes.
“Wait, I have another question,” My words make Sun-il come out of his mental flailing and he gives me an attentive look. I give a flat one in return. “Why did you give me a children’s storybook to read?”
I might no longer be annoyed by it, but I still want to know the reason. And if that reason is in any way related to a perceived lack of my intelligence, I will Power Strike the asshole.
My question surprises Sun-il in a way that lets me know he had no idea that I was given a children’s storybook. Good to know he isn’t involved in the possibility of me being thought of as an idiot.
“What book?” he asks while looking towards my bed and the open book laying on top of it. Seeing as his eyes light up with recognition before he even finishes his demand, I don’t answer the now redundant question.
I would’ve raised a brow to prompt him to answer, except Sun-il’s entire countenance softens before I can do so. He walks towards the bed and gently touches the edge of the illustrated page.
After a brief hesitation, I move to stand besides him, wondering why this book inspired his oddly tender reaction.
“Father used to read these to us,” he says softly even with my current setting, eyes remaining locked onto the book.
Oh.
I keep quiet. The best thing I can do in moments like these is to follow his lead.
Sun-il rarely mentions his father ever since he passed away, and it’s even more rare for him to want to keep talking about him. Even all these years later, the loss is still too great for that. I understand that intellectually, even if I don’t emotionally.
I don’t even want to imagine ever losing Dad. Sure, he travels a lot, but he’ll return home eventually. He always does.
After another moment of silence, Sun-il lifts his hand from the book and meets my gaze, the old grief in his own fading away as he does. “I didn’t expect Rain to give you this.”
That much is more than clear.
“Why did he?” I return to my original question, because it’s equally clear that this isn’t one of the rare times where Sun-il wants to keep talking about his father.
“One of the best ways to get to know another culture is by learning what values they find most important to pass on to their children,” Sun-il answers matter of factly.
Well what do you know. That actually is a good reason to make me read a children’s storybook. It’s also a reason that doesn’t have anything to do with a perceived lack of my intelligence.
“What other books did he give you?” Sun-il asks. I obligingly open my inventory and give him the list. As he reads it, his brows rise with growing incredulity. After finishing it, he shakes his head with bemused affection. “I suppose that’s one way to define the basics.”
I blink with surprise, his reaction making me realize that Rain, not his grandfather, put this list together. As in, from scratch. And he did that for me? How unexpected. We’re nothing more than acquaintances, really.
I realize immediately after that Rain didn’t do it for me. He did it for Sun-il. Rain, in his own unique way, was trying to alleviate some of his brother’s worry about me.
By giving me what I’m now pretty sure is the equivalent of a college level course about the Abyss.
“Does that mean I don’t have to read everything on it?” That would make things so much easier.
“No, you don’t,” Sun-il replies, making me smile with pleasure. “I mean, it would be great if you could, but it isn’t necessary.”
My smile drops. “You don’t think I can finish them all,” I state in a flat voice, deeply unimpressed by his offhand belief that I’m incapable of reading them all. Sure, shortening the list would make things easier, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t finish the whole thing if I put my mind to it.
“You aren’t exactly the most studious of people,” the asshole mocks with a sunny smile. While I won’t deny that his words are true, he’s ignoring two very important facts. One, these books are about magic, meaning they’re infinitely more interesting than the subjects taught at school. Two, just because I’m not a fan of reading doesn’t meant that I can’t finish them all. Because I can.
I tell him all of this with a glare.
Sun-il’s brows shoot up with surprise, caught off guard by my reaction. Or rather, by the intensity of it. Which makes me realize that it’s possible that I’m overreacting. A little.
That thought flies out of my mind when Sun-il starts to smile in a way that means he’s about to be an even bigger asshole than usual. “You know, there’s no shame in admitting that there are some things you simply aren’t capable of doing.”
The underlying sincerity accompanying his passive-aggressive dare only makes the entire thing even more aggravating.
“Finishing this list is not one of those things,” I snap while snatching the paper out of his hand.
The asshole actually has the nerve to give a patronizing smile. Of course it isn’t.
My glare grows dirtier. “I’ll damn well prove it.”
| Quest: Prove Your Best Friend Wrong!
Do I care that it sounds petty when put like that? No, no I do not.
Sun-il grins, pleased and greatly amused.
...Because I just agreed to read through an entire college level course of the Abyss when I didn’t actually need to do so. Even ignoring the fact that it’s turned into a quest, my pride won’t allow me to back out now. Damn it.
I scowl, annoyed at how easily he played me.
Sun-il gives a sunny smile. Like taking candy from a baby.
I punch the asshole’s arm. Naturally, it makes him chuckle.
“I really do have to go now,” he says, partly because it’s the truth, partly because he at least has the decency not to rub his win in further. For now.
I let out a sigh and push my annoyance away. I’ll save it for when he inevitably brings this up again. “Alright. See you soon.”
“Later, Jee-han. Don’t be late,” he says goodbye as well. Except then he hesitates. Of course he does.
I roll my eyes at his overprotectiveness, but decide to humour him nonetheless. “I’ll text you every hour to let you know I’m still fine.”
Extreme? Definitely. However, seeing as I’ll be learning how to signal for help later on today, it’s not like it’ll be for long.
Really though, while I get that he’s worried and that he hasn’t had enough time yet to adjust to me having magic of my own, he’s going to become incredibly aggravating and suffocating if he keeps this up. I’ll give him one week to get over the worst of it, but after that, I’m going to start putting my foot down.
...I’ll give him two weeks. This situation is serious enough to warrant it, as evidenced by the way my words make him relax with a rush of relief.
“Thanks,” he says with a smile that’s both warm and self-deprecating. He’s aware of how overprotective he’s being, and he’s grateful that I’m humoring him while he works through it.
I gently punch his arm. “Go. Have a monster breakfast,” I say with a smile.
“If you insist,” he quips back. “See you soon. Don’t forget to text.”
I roll my eyes, exasperated and involuntarily amused. “Get lost, you overprotective asshole.”
“That hurts, Jee-han, it really does,” he says with such a wounded look.
Before I can point out that he still hasn’t left yet despite his claim of really needing to go, Sun-il gets a mischievous smile. Without further warning, he leaps backwards and effortlessly flies out the open window.
I run after him and look outside just in time to see him land on his feet with the ease of a cat. He gives a lazy salute while fading from view.
Huh. He doesn’t just travel by running, he travels by running inside an illusion barrier. So they’re portable? Makes sense. If the creator is the anchor, than Sun-il must be pulling it along as he moves. Running inside an illusion barrier also means that people can’t see him blur by at impossible speeds, meaning there’s no chance of triggering the Interference Law.
I close my window and put the list away, increase my Sound a little, sit down my bend, and set a silent alarm to remind of when I need to text Sun-il. Then I open my log.
| Quest: Prove Your Best Friend Wrong!
| The Gamer’s Best Friend believes that you’re incapable of completing your assigned reading. Prove him wrong by finishing every book on the list!
| Completion Award:
| – 50 EXP
| – Impressing your Best Friend
| – A great sense of satisfaction
| Failure Award:
| – A great sense of failure
I close my log and determinedly resume reading. Sun-il might’ve goaded me into it, but now that I’ve decided to prove to him that I can do this, I’m damn well going to pull it off.
Just he wait, I’ll finish all these at a speed that’ll make him choke.