Retire 358

358 Molting (5)

How old was Hope again?

I tried to recall what Im Miseon had told me about Alex Hope. All I could remember was that it hadn’t been long since he graduated high school. Was he twenty-one? Twenty-two? Even if another year had passed, it didn’t make much difference.

Even though he was in his twenties, Alex Hope never struck me as particularly mature. At best, he seemed like a high schooler. Maybe even a bit like little Yoo Jieun.

That was probably because, until he met Sandra Gamble, Alex Hope had no real sense of himself as a human being. Until that small girl approached and reached out her hand, Hope’s world must have consisted only of parents who showered him with love.

Alex Hope the human only began to grow from that point on. At most, a little over a decade ago.

Only now was Alex Hope truly leaving childhood behind and becoming a young man.

Thump, thump—the slow, pulsing mass of magic was the only sound in the room. In fact, I wasn’t even sure if that sound was real. With the magic so dense, my senses were warping. Maybe the trembling of my skin was what I mistook for sound.

Hope was silent for a long time. His protruding hand stayed still, and even his hair—which now had quite a bit of black grown out—was calm.

I waited for Hope, still gripping my spear.

“You.”

At last, Hope spoke.

“You said you were good with a knife.”

“…Depends what I’m cutting.”

“You can see, so you’ll do fine.”

His tone was firm, as if he wouldn’t accept any other answer.

“What do I need to cut?”

“If you look closely, right here—”

His fingers twitched. He twisted his wrist as much as he could, but when he couldn’t point exactly where he wanted, a frustrated sigh escaped.

“You’ll see something connecting my shoulder… like this.”

“Hm.”

I bent over to examine the spot Hope indicated.

Sticky flesh clung to him like dried glue. I wasn’t sure you could really call it a connection, but by the dictionary definition, I supposed it was.

Countless thin threads of magic, grotesquely slender, covered Hope’s body. They looked like the stitches on a stuffed doll, or like capillaries.

“You have to cut those.”

“…Just cut them? That’s it?”

I didn’t ask which choice this would lead to. That was Hope’s business.

If the consequences of that choice became a problem for me, I’d deal with it then. Either way, I doubted Hope would ever abandon Gamble.

“Don’t stab the big one on top of me.”

“What happens if I do?”

“I’m not sure, but it’ll probably explode?”

“…If I just cut the threads, it won’t?”

“Probably?”

I hated uncertain answers like that.

Fortunately, Hope elaborated before I could get annoyed.

“The magic is flowing in through my body. If you cut the connections, the magic will stop, and… after that, it’ll probably disperse? Magic doesn’t stay in one place.”

I considered Hope’s explanation carefully.

He wasn’t wrong. With so much magic built up, it might take some time, but if it could be solved just by leaving it alone, that would be a relief.

“So make sure you cut well.”

“……”

“And don’t stab me!”

“Mm.”

“You sound disappointed!”

I was so close to Hope’s body… using a spear was out of the question. My sister’s sword wouldn’t be precise enough for this kind of delicate work, either.

I had a few other emergency weapons, but none seemed right for slicing those connections.

And there was nothing in the infirmary that would do the job…

Clicking my tongue to myself, I rummaged through my subspace. Something suitable… Ah, of course.

“I’m not disappointed.”

“You are!”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

“See!”

Just in case, I kept my spear within reach. I set up the fallen chair and sat down.

A memory of hiking with my father flashed through my mind. He’d taught me how to use a knife, and that a Hunter must be flexible in any situation.

This was just another part of a Hunter’s job. Don’t panic—stay calm.

Stay calm… damn it.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“About stabbing me?”

“No. Not that.”

I pulled a dagger from subspace. It was something I’d asked Im Miseon for long ago—a dagger I carried for emergencies, from an unconquered dungeon forum. I’d used it against Sam Bloom, and never returned it to Im Miseon. She’d never asked for it back, so I’d forgotten about it.

A dagger made of dwarven gold. Pure, without impurities—cutting magic shouldn’t cause any backlash. See? If you keep things, you’ll always find a use for them.

As I took up the dagger and got into position, I finally voiced a thought I’d had every time I talked with Hope.

“Why do you speak informally to me?”

“…What?”

Up close, the mass of magic looked even more grotesque. I could clearly see it defied the laws of physics.

It hung heavily but looked as light as a cloud. In reality, it wasn’t pressing down on Hope’s body, but floating above it. Magic isn’t supposed to be visible or tangible, so maybe this was how it should be.

Carefully, I nudged the mass aside with the hilt of the dagger. The magic rippled, but calmed down and exposed the connection.

“Hey! Be careful!”

Hope was the one getting worked up.

“What are you using? Doesn’t it react to magic? It’s really sensitive right now, so don’t just poke it!”

Didn’t I mention it was a dwarven gold dagger?

Well, whatever.

“Why do you speak informally?”

“Is that really important right now?”

“It is.”

Like it or not, I was going to keep seeing Hope from now on.

I remembered exactly what he’d said when he introduced Gamble. It was so ridiculous I couldn’t forget. What was it? “Externalized humanity”?

In some ways, he was even worse than Han Taekyung. At least Han Taekyung treated me as a senior.

“I’m older than you.”

“……”

Hope made a strangled sound.

But I was serious. If I was going to manage someone like this, I had to set things straight from the start.

“I’m Australian!”

“This is Korea.”

“No…!”

At twenty-three, let’s see. Academy graduates would be joining the Administration Bureau and starting to be treated as veterans. Usually, they’d start looking for a new job, but unfortunately, Hope was on the exact opposite path.

Instead of changing jobs, he was basically getting hired here.

“When in Rome, do as the Romans do.”

Hope made another choked sound.

I still didn’t know what to do about the identity of a dead man… but I couldn’t just let someone this conspicuous—someone Noah Michel was sure to be interested in—loose at this school.

Still, there was a better chance of taking him in at Guild Mimi than at Dasun. No, he would be taken in by Guild Mimi.

Guild Mimi. With Hong Seok-young as master, and me as vice-master, for better or worse. Kim Chaemin could also be counted as a member, more or less… and we had a research lab, even if Sandra Gamble was the only researcher.

Just four of us, but if you counted Han Taekyung—who came to the school at Hong Seok-young’s request—he was closer to Guild Mimi, too.

That made five. If we added Hope, that’d be six. By both hire date and age, Hope would be the youngest.

“From now on, address me as ‘senior.’ Respectfully.”

“What…!”

“Now be quiet, I need to focus.”

Hope flapped his hand in frustration, slapping his palm on the bed.

And yet he did keep his mouth shut. The fact that he always ended up doing as he was told was almost childlike.

Ah, is it really possible to save the world with kids like this?

---

Separating the mass of magic from Hope’s body took much more work than I’d expected.

By the time I finally cut the last thread connected to his knee, it was not only dark but nearly dawn. My eyes ached from staring at nothing but that bloody magic under the fluorescent lights.

At some point, Hope regained use of his upper body, so I handed him the dagger and told him to help.

‘…Are you refusing to do it?’

He quickly gave up.

‘No, it’s just…’

Hope pouted.

‘You do realize I’m cutting into my own flesh without anesthesia, right?’

‘What?’

‘Where do you think wings usually attach?’

‘……’

Only then did I notice how pale Hope looked. The way he’d been clenching and unclenching his fists wasn’t just out of boredom.

I sighed, dug into my pocket, and pressed a piece of candy into Hope’s hand instead of the dagger. I never thought the candy I tossed to students who answered quiz questions would end up being used like this.

‘…Candy?’

‘Just eat it.’

‘I’m not a kid.’

He’s a kid.

Honestly, I was already being generous calling him a high schooler. Yoo Jieun—no, Woo Irok or Sophia would probably be closer to his mental age.

“All done.”

The mass of magic was finally separated from Hope’s body. With each thread I cut, less magic flowed into the infirmary. When I cut the last one, the magic pooled in the infirmary began to disperse. The flow of magic resumed.

Even the once-bright red mass slowly turned dark. It still looked like a lump of blood, and I recoiled from it instinctively.

“How’s your body? Anything wrong?”

“…Ugh.”

The moment I asked, Hope vomited on the infirmary floor. Not that there was much in his stomach—he’d only had IV fluids from Shin Minseo. If you could even call that “eating.”

He retched until there was nothing left. Watching the sweat pour down his pale face, I fetched a bottle of water from the little fridge in the infirmary. Even though everyone had evacuated, the school facilities were still working. The water was ice-cold.

Hope rinsed his mouth. Even so, he gagged a few more times.

I waited quietly for Hope to recover. There was nothing else I could do. If I was right, this was something Hope would have to adapt to himself.

Finally, Hope stopped throwing up. He rinsed his mouth, drank some water. His breathing steadied, and color slowly returned to his pale face.

Hope looked up at me. Still that delicate, almost feminine face, his hair a mess of natural and dyed colors.

What had changed? Not much.

But there was something symbolic. The result of Hope’s choice. Not just calling himself human anymore.

“How does it feel?”

His eyes, once shimmering gold, were now an ordinary brown. Eyes just like his mother’s—nothing different from any other human.

Alex Hope, son of Qian Yijin and Oliver Hope, had cut off his wings.

“How does it feel to be truly human?”

Human Alex Hope laughed, rough but unburdened.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.”