Yoon Seolha

“Are you really sure this will be enough?”

“To me, it’s practically everything.”

Thud!

Oh Hyeonseong loaded several boxes of potatoes into the trunk of the car.

Since it was the same arrangement as last time, he had asked whether she needed anything else, but she had simply asked for that many potatoes.

“You worked hard this past week.”

“You did all the hard work, Senior. All I did was help correct her form from time to time.”

Han Suyeon chuckled.

After casually throwing on her jacket, she had gone from her shabby training clothes back to her usual self as Deputy Director Han Suyeon.

“More than anything, I had fun for the first time in a while. It brought back memories of when I used to work as an instructor at the training camp with you, Senior. I never thought we’d ever do something like that again.”

“We practically died back then.”

After they had both ended up hospitalized following an operation, there had been a period when she and Oh Hyeonseong worked together as instructors at the training camp.

Unlike Oh Hyeonseong, who had gone on to train several more batches of recruits afterward, however, she had never properly taught anyone again after that one experience.

If Oh Hyeonseong hadn’t asked her this time, she would have refused again.

“Thanks to you, I was able to catch my breath. I should head back now.”

A whole week had already passed since she had impulsively come down here.

She had contacted them before leaving, but since she had simply sent a message in the middle of the night and unilaterally announced her departure, things had probably been in complete chaos on their end.

It had been an extremely impulsive decision, but it had allowed her suffocating frustration to ease somewhat.

Now it was time for her to go back and clean up the mess she’d left behind.

“And it’s fine if you let people stay at the house, but leave one spot for me. You know what I mean, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll leave your room empty, so don’t worry. Come down whenever you feel like it.”

“Thanks.”

Han Suyeon smiled and climbed into the car.

Just then, Oh Hyeonseong leaned his face slightly toward the window and spoke.

“Before you go, can I ask you for one last favor?”

“Hm? What could our instructor possibly be asking for all of a sudden?”

“I think I might need to borrow our Deputy Director’s influence.”

After what had happened with Joo Jihye this week, Oh Hyeonseong had realized that there was still a possibility of troublesome problems arising because of the strawberries being supplied to the department store.

Of course, he had made the terms crystal clear during the contract negotiations, and he had confirmed that Park Jeongtae had tried his best to keep the secret until the very end.

But Park Jeongtae was merely the person in charge of the matter.

No matter how responsible he was, he was still an employee. If a decision came from higher up or he came under pressure, there was only so much he could do.

But what if someone even more influential than the department store president—or even the chairman of a major corporation—intervened?

The situation could be brought under control cleanly and efficiently.

Naturally, someone like Han Suyeon was one of the few people capable of taking on that role.

“Hmm… I don’t particularly like getting involved in private affairs.”

“So, is it possible?”

“Fine. In a way, we’re a community of people bound by fate for the sake of eating potatoes.”

“That makes us sound pretty pathetic.”

“Haha! See you next time, Senior.”

After Joo Jihye and then Han Suyeon had left, Oh Hyeonseong enjoyed the rare peace and quiet that had returned to the house after several noisy days.

Even the siblings from next door, who usually stopped by or contacted him from time to time, were quiet.

After the previous incident, they had been busy dealing with the damage to their farm and had been too preoccupied even to contact him.

That was also why he hadn’t run into them at all during Joo Jihye’s training over the past several days.

‘Still, I’m glad that Seungsu seems to have recovered his spirits.’

The damage had been substantial, not only because of the crops that had been destroyed but also because of the losses caused by the period when they couldn’t operate normally.

Fortunately, the fact that Hankeong Department Store had officially designated them as a preferred farm had given them considerable support.

On top of that, the strawberry boom had increased demand for naturally grown agricultural products, and the department store had actually placed additional orders for other crops.

They said their financial situation should finally begin to breathe a little easier.

The siblings were doing their best in many ways.

“Then I guess I should get going too.”

Oh Hyeonseong had quickly finished the day’s farming work, leaving him with some free time.

He packed the backpack and supplies on his back before leaving the house.

Normally, he would have gone down the road toward the village.

This time, however, he started heading in the opposite direction.

He was making his way toward a completely different destination.

‘I heard from the village elders that there’s an old reservoir beyond the mountain behind the village.’

Not long after leaving his expansive private property, the gentle path came to an end, giving way to a forest without even a proper road.

After crossing the mountain ridge, Oh Hyeonseong finally arrived near his destination.

“Looks like I made it.”

Yellow No Trespassing tape stretched in every direction, greeting him.

The tape had been put up without any consideration for the surrounding scenery or environment, and even that had become worn out and was hanging loosely.

The atmosphere was clearly anything but ordinary.

This place had been designated a Restricted Area by the government.

During the early days of the Gate incident, humanity had gone through a period when the lack of information had made it difficult to respond properly to emerging threats.

These days, Gates were detected immediately and Hunters were dispatched.

Back then, however, some Gates had been left unattended, allowing monsters to run rampant and leaving quite a few areas across the country contaminated by tainted energy.

This was one of those places.

Rustle!

Ignoring the tape, Oh Hyeonseong stepped inside.

It wasn’t long before the reservoir he had been searching for came into view.

It couldn’t exactly be called large, but it covered considerably more area than he had expected.

Dense bushes had grown all around it, and because it was so remote, it was the kind of place outsiders would have had virtually no chance of finding.

Oh Hyeonseong approached the reservoir, knelt on one knee, and examined the water.

‘Just as I heard, the water quality is absolutely terrible. The tainted energy contamination is severe.’

There was a reason this place had been designated a Restricted Area.

Although much of the tainted energy had settled after such a long period of time, once water became contaminated, it wasn’t something that could easily recover.

“Do you think you could purify this place too?”

The Water Spirit in his pocket shook its head vigorously.

Oh Hyeonseong clicked his tongue.

“Looks like even this is too much.”

Just as the Earth Spirit could remove the tainted energy from the soil and create healthy farmland, Oh Hyeonseong had thought the Water Spirit might be able to purify the reservoir.

But because this area was still designated as a Restricted Area, the contamination was far more severe than that of ordinary land.

His Spirits simply weren’t capable of purifying it at their current level.

‘Still, just in case… should I check its condition?’

Oh Hyeonseong took out the fishing rod he had brought with him.

Fishing wasn’t exactly a serious hobby of his, but he had gone fishing a few times before and at least knew the basics.

After finding a suitable spot, he sat down leisurely and waited.

Before long, he felt a tug and pulled out a fish.

“Oh, it’s a crucian carp.”

The familiar sensation of a fish tugging at the line brought a smile to his lips.

It was embarrassingly tiny, but a catch was a catch.

However, when he lifted the crucian carp and examined it from various angles, he quickly realized there was a serious problem.

The fish was completely riddled with disease.

Even an ordinary person could immediately tell something was wrong.

It wasn’t merely a matter of whether it would taste good. The fish was in such poor condition that it was practically impossible to eat.

‘If I ate something like this, I’d probably lose ten years off my life. Looks like this won’t work after all.’

Oh Hyeonseong released the crucian carp and let out a deep sigh.

That was the reason he had brought the Water Spirit all the way here.

Just as crops unaffected by tainted energy boasted exceptional flavor, he had thought fish raised in a healthy environment free from tainted energy would be the same.

It was an important possibility that could have dramatically expanded the range of ingredients available to him.

He hadn’t completely failed to anticipate a situation like this, but he had still come here with some expectations, so his disappointment was considerable.

‘What a shame. A remote place like this that nobody visits would have been perfect as my own private source of fish.’

Seeing the place in person only made his regret stronger.

He wondered whether there was some way around the problem.

But no matter how much he racked his brain, he couldn’t come up with a suitable solution.

Ding!

Just then, his phone rang.

Wondering who it was, he checked the screen and saw a message from Joo Jihye.

Contrary to what he had worried about, she said that she had finished the filming successfully and sent him a long message telling him about everything that had happened and thanking him repeatedly.

At the end was even a selfie she’d taken and sent in a playful pose.

“She’s practically a completely different person compared to the first day.”

Oh Hyeonseong chuckled softly.

He sat down and gazed at the scenery as the sun gradually began to sink.

The reservoir in the mountains, bathed in the glow of the sunset, was at least spectacular to look at from the outside.

The Water Spirit seemed to like the view as well, making happy little noises as it rolled around above his head.

‘Come to think of it, the sky looked exactly like this back then too.’

As Oh Hyeonseong admired the scenery beneath the sunset, he let out a quiet sigh.

“Yeah. I hope this helps you let go of at least some of the things that have been holding you back. Joo Jihye, and you too, Choi Jeongil.”

Thud!

“Phew, I’m exhausted.”

Choi Jeongil entered the president’s office and dropped into his chair.

He had just returned from an overseas schedule.

After successfully completing meetings with European leaders that had been in preparation for several months, he had returned with the employees who accompanied him all wearing bright expressions.

But the look on the president’s face was filled with complicated emotions.

‘The time… By now, the filming should be over.’

Choi Jeongil glanced at his watch.

He was thinking of Joo Jihye, who had come up to Seoul today and gone through her drama schedule.

‘Even though I told her that pushing herself would only make things worse, she wouldn’t listen.’

Even after developing her aftereffects, Joo Jihye had stubbornly continued with her schedule.

This drama shoot had also happened because of her strong determination.

Normally, given Choi Jeongil’s personality, he would have pressured her strongly enough to stop her from overexerting herself.

But even he couldn’t stop her that time.

The unavoidable, bleak future.

Her words kept echoing in his mind:

If she stopped here, it felt as though everything would truly be over.

Even now.

‘I’ve hidden her condition from the outside world as much as possible, but eventually, the fact that she’s showing the early symptoms of psychosis will become known. No… the government agencies may already know.’

If her psychosis truly became imminent, Joo Jihye would be discarded.

Even Choi Jeongil, with his enormous financial resources and extensive network, couldn’t prevent that future.

This wasn’t something involving the life of just one or two people. He couldn’t selfishly do whatever he wanted solely for her sake.

“Now or then… there’s nothing I can do.”

Choi Jeongil stared blankly out the window.

His senior, Oh Hyeonseong, had taken her away under the pretext of treatment.

But even he had said that he was merely checking whether there was a possibility, and that nothing was certain.

Honestly, unless a miracle occurred, it was impossible.

And that miracle had never once appeared, as though cruel reality itself were trying to tell him the truth.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

Just then, his phone rang.

It was Joo Jihye’s manager.

“…President!”

“What is it? Did something happen again?”

“N-no, sir! It’s actually the opposite! A miracle has happened!”

“What are you talking about?”

The manager had witnessed everything that had happened to her throughout the day.

She had finished filming perfectly.

She hadn’t complained of any mental aftereffects whatsoever, such as anxiety or fatigue.

And most importantly, her personality had changed.

It was as though she had returned to the person she’d been one year ago, before her injury.

“She changed that much all of a sudden? In just one week?”

“I couldn’t believe it myself while I was watching her!”

It was news that was almost impossible to believe.

But he had been Joo Jihye’s manager since before her injury.

There was no way he could fail to recognize such a dramatic change in her.

Choi Jeongil’s eyes shook violently.

He could barely hear what the manager was saying on the other end of the line.

‘Did… Senior really manage to do it?’

After ending the call, Choi Jeongil remained frozen in place for a long time.

He would need to see her condition for himself to know exactly what had happened, and it could still be merely a temporary improvement rather than a complete cure.

But even if that were the case, nothing would change.

The miracle that had seemed like a mirage—the miracle that Choi Jeongil had desperately searched for while pouring everything he had into finding an answer, yet had never even managed to grasp a clue to—had been brought about by Oh Hyeonseong.

Clack.

Choi Jeongil turned his gaze and opened a drawer in his desk.

He carefully picked up a faded photograph lying face down.

It was a group photograph of his former unit members wearing black combat uniforms, including Oh Hyeonseong and Han Suyeon.

In one corner stood Choi Jeongil himself, wearing an expressionless face.

Beside him was a woman smiling brightly with her arms crossed.

“…”

Choi Jeongil lowered his head.

His shoulders began to tremble.

No sound came from the room.

Only silence remained.

Yet for a very long time, he couldn’t bring himself to leave his seat.