Retire 400
by Cristae400 The Path of Learning (5)
……
I looked at my phone.
No sooner had I checked my messages than new ones arrived in quick succession.
[Our grandkids^^*~]
The following messages were all photos. Dozens of them. Pictures of two elementary schoolers in adorable aprons, covered in flour.
The last photo was of them holding the finished cookies. Cat-shaped, rabbit-shaped, each cookie decorated with crooked, cute faces.
I smiled as I looked at Uirok with chocolate smeared on his cheek. Whatever had happened during the baking, Sophia beside him looked like her hair had turned almost completely white from the flour.
Whatever it was, they’d had a happy time…
Ding.
Another photo arrived with a small notification sound.
Unlike the chaos in the kitchen and among the kids, the elderly woman supervising them was immaculate, not a speck of flour on her.
[Next time, let’s make them together with the eldest grandchild^^]
Isabella’s Korean was as skilled in writing as in speaking. Not a single typo, even perfect use of emoticons. I sent a reply.
And only now did I realize where all the cookies and pies my father used to bring back from overseas trips had come from. Knowing my father’s sly side, I wasn’t surprised.
Still, if he was going to go that far, he might as well have introduced me. But I also understood why he hadn’t.
Uirok’s situation was different from mine.
Back then, I wouldn’t have been able to accept a new person claiming to be family.
That’s another way I’m different from Uirok. In fact, maybe I’m the one most bound by the past…
No, but I have my reasons. If I were to just forget the past and start over completely, wouldn’t that be the real problem? People are supposed to learn from the past.
Still, my conversation with Robert made me reflect, if only for a moment. Isabella helped, too.
She’d half-interrogated me, wanting to know what food her grandchild liked.
It was the kind of conversation any grandparent and grandchild could have, but Isabella had said,
‘Really? Uirok’s obsessed with snacks these days. Why do they make so many limited-edition snacks… and so many strange flavors. What on earth is seaweed-flavored chocolate?’
That was a hobby I never had.
Thanks to this, Isabella seemed less concerned about her grandchild than about the tastes of Korean snack companies…
Whenever I saw something in Uirok that was different from me, I felt both relieved and a little wistful.
But at the same time, I realized something.
A lot had changed. Not just me, but Hong Seok-yeong, Kim Chaemin, Gamble, and Hope, as well as Imi-seon and the students at Yangseong High. The people I remembered no longer existed. The same was true for Yoo Ji-eun.
Now I understood why Hong Seok-yeong had asked whether Ji-eun really wanted the sword.
It’s enough just to say so.
Yoo Ji-eun wouldn’t become the sister I remembered. Even if I forced the sword into her hands… who knows if she’d follow the path I wanted.
And I didn’t want little Ji-eun to become my sister. Would my sister, who was supposed to come to the past, have wanted that?
Just as I didn’t want Uirok to grow up like me, my sister probably didn’t want little Ji-eun to become like her.
I lifted my head.
Tap tap tap!
From the end of the hallway beyond the closed door, I heard lively footsteps. Someone was running almost silently, on tiptoes. The steps were quiet, but not enough to miss. As they drew closer, I knew exactly who they belonged to…
Bang!
“Teacher!!”
Little Ji-eun burst in, her face flushed.
When I just looked at her calmly, not even surprised, she seemed startled and carefully closed the door behind her.
Knock knock.
There was a timid knock.
I didn’t answer, just waited. Soon, a small, hesitant voice came through.
“Teacher, it’s Ji-eun…”
And without waiting for my reply, she flung the door open.
Her young face wore an awkward smile, cheeks flushed.
She was in gym clothes, sleeves rolled up. Somehow, she’d convinced a third-year to lend her a long staff with “Oh Hyun-wook” written on it in marker, slung across her back.
I shook my head.
“Did Oh Hyun-wook actually lend you that?”
“No! Of course I snuck it out!”
“I’m not going to start by teaching you the spear, you know?”
“I still want to learn!”
“Sorry, but we’re starting with unarmed combat.”
“Ugh.”
But Ji-eun’s determination didn’t waver.
“That’s fine too! Hunters have to be strong even without weapons, right? Right?”
Little Ji-eun spun around me, humming a tune for the days ahead.
“Hurry up! Let’s go, teacher!”
“Why are you so eager?”
“Is that a problem?”
It was an excitement I couldn’t understand.
But… little Ji-eun wanted to become a Hunter. I didn’t know what was going on in that little head, but if she wanted it, what could I do?
This school was much better than some cult, and I’d rather teach her myself than leave her in someone else’s hands.
“All right, all right. Let’s go.”
“So you’ll take me as your disciple?”
“No.”
“Tch. You’re just saving that for your little brother, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“Tae-woo oppa said so. Irok awakened too, right? How is he doing?”
“You saw him last time he came to school.”
“That was ages ago! Kids grow up so fast.”
Hearing that from a kid…
I snorted.
“Are you really not going to teach Irok, either?”
Ji-eun asked carefully. Why was she so fixated on this? But seeing her anxious face, I couldn’t scold her.
Maybe little Ji-eun, like the younger me, just wanted to feel like she belonged. Even if she thought she was fine, maybe she wanted a protector who would put her first. For Ji-eun, that person wasn’t a parent, but a teacher…
“If he wants to come to Yangseong High? I don’t even know if I’ll still be teaching here by then.”
“You’d quit?”
“Who knows. You never know what’ll happen.”
Ah, the kids my father had carefully chosen for the pilot school were all so gentle and good-natured. And so many of them didn’t have proper family backgrounds.
At least the third-years had friends their own age… It’s not that they were mean to Ji-eun, but a friend’s little sister isn’t the same as a friend. Once Kang Tae-woo graduated, Ji-eun would be alone.
“I’ll be here until you graduate, so don’t worry.”
“…Really?”
“Really.”
At that, Ji-eun seemed a little reassured.
Just before little Ji-eun arrived, I looked again at the photo Isabella had sent. Two kids covered in flour and chocolate.
“Want to go see Irok this weekend? He wants to see you too.”
“He does? Really?”
Of course, I’d have to check with Isabella, but I doubted she’d object.
“You two got along well.”
“I was the one who played with him!”
Little Ji-eun answered, shrugging her shoulders.
“Yeah, yeah.”
I hesitated, then reached out and ruffled her hair. She was startled at first, but soon relaxed and smiled brightly.
Even though everything had changed, some things hadn’t. And there were things that didn’t need to change.
“I have a great idea.”
Han Tae-woo pushed up his sunglasses with his middle finger as he spoke.
That was not a phrase I expected from him. A great idea? No way.
“……”
“I’m serious, it’s a really good idea!”
A dull stare was fixed on Han Tae-woo. Not from me—from Sandra Gamble, the research lab’s resident ghost.
Gamble looked away again. The answer came not from her, but from Hope, who was stuck with her.
“Do we really have to hear this?”
“Of course! It’s about our junior!”
“…I don’t want to hear it.”
“Junior, if you take our friendship so lightly, that’s a big mistake.”
Alex Hope looked at Han Tae-woo with deep suspicion. They seemed to get along, but Hope knew Han Tae-woo well enough to give him that look.
When he didn’t get the reaction he wanted, Han Tae-woo turned to me for help.
“Senpai!”
“Everyone’s busy right now.”
I shrugged.
And it was true. Honestly, the busiest person at this school might be Gamble. Imi-seon and the Hunters from Dasun had plenty to do, but at least they had people to delegate to. Imi-seon often pushed her work onto junior Hunters, and the Hunters, if they didn’t want to work, would pawn off their duties and claim they’d rather teach the Yangseong kids.
But Gamble couldn’t do that. Like Kim Chaemin, she was irreplaceable.
Besides analyzing the mana detector blueprints from the future, Gamble had plenty of other research, and all the papers she published to provoke Noah Michel and build influence went through her. She was also analyzing Han Tae-woo’s eyes and Hope’s wings. Most of these things were probably connected, but that didn’t mean they could all be lumped together.
And lately, there was the poison that had affected Hong Seok-yeong. Kim Chaemin was there too, but… with only two people, there was a limit. They couldn’t just hire more, so it was what it was.
In that sense, Gamble really was a genius. She somehow managed all of it.
“Senpai, you don’t look that busy.”
Han Tae-woo had the nerve to question me.
“I’m in management.”
I was here to talk to Gamble and Hope. Don’t lump me in with Han Tae-woo, who was just hanging around.
“Anyway!”
Han Tae-woo, realizing he wouldn’t win with me, quickly changed the subject. In a way, he had good instincts.
He dragged a chair over and sat at the table. Hope, who was helping out with research as Gamble’s assistant, looked at him with even more suspicion.
But unfortunately, Han Tae-woo’s real target was Hope.
“It’s just, Ji-eun’s been really interested in new students lately.”
“Yeah, well… Maybe she wants a junior.”
It was more about the school’s survival.
“Actually, my dad’s friend is interested! His son awakened, apparently. He asked me how to apply for admission…”
“…What?”
“But that’s not the point right now.”
What do you mean, not the point?
Maybe if the school grew later, but for now, we needed to recruit new students by any means necessary!
I was about to ask Han Tae-woo for more details when he quickly said,
“How about making our junior next year’s new student?”