Retire 525
by Cristae525 Words I Want to Convey (2)
Two days ago.
-…That’s how it ended.
On the small phone screen, Gamble wore an expression that was hard to describe. It was different from the usual look of exhaustion from overwork.
I wasn’t the only one who noticed Gamble’s lukewarm reaction. My father raised his eyebrows.
“What’s wrong?”
-Uh… No, it’s just, I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.
“Then what were you expecting?”
-I’m not sure, but, well. If it’s a battle for the fate of the world, shouldn’t it be more… dramatic, intense, something like that?
Gamble awkwardly waved his hands.
-This just feels… hollow, doesn’t it?
“Hollow?”
-Even in games, the final boss is always the hardest!
“Stop playing games. And stop watching so many dramas.”
My father clicked his tongue, openly scolding Gamble.
“This isn’t a game.”
-No, I know… I’m just saying. After everything that’s happened, I thought there’d at least be a final desperate struggle.
Given what Gamble usually says, it was a surprisingly harsh comment. My father seemed displeased, but I caught his arm out of Gamble’s sight.
It’s easy to forget, but Gamble was one of Michelle’s victims. In some ways, he suffered the most directly—what seemed trivial was, in fact, catastrophic.
Gamble had to stand by and watch, knowing exactly who had ruined his friend’s life. He also knew how it had twisted his own.
-If she’s going to do whatever she wants until the end… Some of us can’t even sleep, stuck cleaning up after her.
My father belatedly realized this.
For once, he was at a loss for words, scratching his head. Gamble grumbled for a while that he didn’t want to understand Michelle.
“Well… isn’t that just life? Nothing ever goes the way you want, and nothing ever turns out as expected.”
-That’s exactly why I don’t like it!
“It’s already happened, whether you like it or not.”
-Are you trying to piss me off right now?
Gamble gritted his teeth as he spoke.
Everyone was on edge. We still hadn’t recovered from the dungeon. Gamble tried not to show it, but it was clear he hadn’t rested since we’d entered.
“……”
We all fell silent, watching each other.
The person we wanted to blame wasn’t here, and overall, things had turned out as well as could be hoped. Except for the fact that the monster hovering over Las Vegas had lost its home.
-Ugh. Forget it. It’s not something I can take back. Work is work.
Gamble was the first to declare surrender.
-At least the crazy magician dreaming of world destruction is gone, right? I don’t know if we’ll ever clear Mont-Saint-Michel, but at least we stopped the apocalypse, didn’t we?
“Unless Michelle had some secret apprentice hidden away…”
-Don’t even joke about that!
Gamble shuddered at my words.
-I don’t know about apprentices, but I found what you asked for before you went into the dungeon.
Gamble asked, his voice uncertain.
-…Are you really going to meet them?
“I want to know what kind of person they are.”
-…Do you have time for that?
“Mr. Han, you’re not going, right?”
“No. I don’t know anything about it.”
“I don’t plan to go, either.”
“Master stands out too much anyway.”
“……”
“I’ll go! I want to go!”
“You?”
I looked at Hope with suspicion. He’d been oddly quiet since we left the dungeon. Maybe he’d finally grown up a bit since coming to America…
Surprisingly, my father nodded and immediately gave his permission.
“Take him. There’s nothing for him to do here anyway.”
My father glanced at Han Tae-kyung with a worried face.
I wouldn’t want to be left alone with just Han Tae-kyung and Hope, either.
Gamble shrugged as he explained.
-It’s not far. They live near Los Angeles. Well, they’re staying there. It’s their son’s house.
“Where did they originally live?”
-San Francisco.
“……”
Most of the situation in San Francisco had been resolved, but it would be a long time before the city returned to normal.
-A few days before everything happened, they went to Canada for a retirement trip. I don’t know if that was taken into account.
“…What’s their name again?”
-Gabriel. Gabriel Michelle. After moving to the U.S., he took his wife’s surname, so now he’s Gabriel Marceau.
Present.
The outskirts of Los Angeles.
Unaware of the mood, the white walls of the house shone dazzlingly in the sunlight. The bright red roof added a gentle warmth, and the well-kept lawn was full of life.
The flowerbeds were neatly trimmed, and pots lined the low steps leading to the front door. Cheerful little flowers bloomed everywhere.
I wore a suit for the first time in a while. I wasn’t sure what to say, or even if coming here was the right choice.
But I wanted to see with my own eyes what kind of person he was.
When I rang the bell, I sensed movement inside.
“Is Mr. Gabriel Michelle here?”
I deliberately used his old surname. Gamble had told me he no longer used it, but we were here to talk about matters related to that name.
At the very least, I wanted to give him a choice.
If he said he didn’t know what I was talking about, I planned to leave right away.
Maybe I was even hoping he would say so.
The person behind the door didn’t answer right away. But it wasn’t long before the door opened.
A man of mature years stood there. Though in his fifties, he looked older than his age. Perhaps it was the burn scar running from his left ear down to his jaw.
“I go by Gabriel Marceau now.”
Gabriel Michelle—Marceau—faced us slowly. The hand gripping his cane trembled with tension.
“It’s been over ten years since anyone called me that, but lately, I’ve been hearing it more often.”
“…Hello. We’re from the Hunter Association.”
“Association?”
Marceau pointed past me and Kim Chae-min to Hope, who was lingering awkwardly in the corner.
“That kid doesn’t look like one of you.”
Right. No matter how you looked at it, Hope didn’t fit in with us.
I didn’t contradict Marceau.
“We’re here on official business, but we also have a personal matter. If you don’t mind, could we come in and talk for a moment?”
“……”
Marceau stood at the door, uncertain, but finally stepped aside.
“Coffee? Tea?”
“Coffee, please.”
“Me too.”
“…I’ll have some as well?”
We followed Marceau into the house, feeling awkward.
There was no sign of anyone else inside. But everywhere were traces of family: family photos on the walls, shoes belonging to his son and daughter-in-law, a coat thrown carelessly over the sofa.
There were more family photos in the living room cabinet. Pictures of Marceau and his wife with their son, pictures of the son and his wife… and a few that looked much older. A photo of the magician couple from Noah Michelle’s memories, with a small boy who looked like a middle schooler.
And a photo of a young man without burn scars, beaming as he held a newborn.
“That’s one of the few photos I managed to save when the house caught fire,” Marceau said, setting down the coffee.
“After that, whenever I had to leave home for a while, I always made sure to take those photos. If I hadn’t, I’d have lost them, too… Everything else could go, but not those.”
He took a sip of coffee. Hope looked at the milk in front of him as if he wanted to say something, but thankfully stayed quiet.
“So, could you introduce yourselves again?”
“…Yes. This is, well, we’re here for personal reasons. We’re not here to investigate or anything, so please don’t feel pressured.”
“But you said you were from the Association?”
“That’s just our side of things. Normally… well, it’d be a problem to show up like this. It’s just in case something comes up later.”
It would have been easy to lie, but I didn’t want to.
It wasn’t entirely the truth, but I explained as honestly as I could. Now that the existence of the will had come to light, Gabriel Michelle’s existence couldn’t stay hidden either.
Marceau narrowed his eyes. Even though he wasn’t an Awakened, there was a strange pressure to him.
“We’re… from Guild Mimi. I don’t know if you’ve heard of us, but our master is Hong Seok-young, a Korean hunter. I can show you our licenses, if you need them.”
“Your names?”
“I’m Woo Hee-jae. This is Kim Chae-min, and that kid is Alex Hope.”
In the world of the Awakened, dropping names like Hong Seok-young or Kim Chae-min would get you somewhere, but with a civilian, that wasn’t the case.
Especially not with something as sensitive as this.
A dead brother’s will is one thing, but the niece named in that will has gone missing, presumed the victim of a terrorist attack.
And then, out of nowhere, mysterious hunters from Asia show up, invoking the old family name.
“You’re the one, then.”
“Sorry?”
“The friend Jean mentioned. I didn’t know you knew my niece.”
But Marceau nodded, recognizing my name.
I’d imagined many scenarios, but not this one.
“…Jean?”
“Jean Robinson. You don’t know him?”
An unexpected name. Then, with a small exclamation, he looked at Kim Chae-min.
“So you’re the archmage. Yes, I see it now. I recognize you.”
“Pardon?”
Marceau put on his glasses and fiddled with his phone, then showed us a screenshot from a news article.
“You were the one talking with my niece, weren’t you?”
It was a photo from the Marseille conference, showing Kim Chae-min and Michelle in conversation. It had been a big deal at the time—two young archmages with different backgrounds meeting was rare.
It wasn’t so long ago, but it felt like it had been ages.
“Uh, yes. Th-that’s me.”
“So you’re an archmage. Sorry I didn’t recognize you right away—I don’t know much about magicians.”
“No, even among magicians, not everyone knows me…”
Now that he knew we were friends of his niece, Marceau’s guarded manner softened.
“Mm, mm-hm. I see.”
He sipped his coffee and muttered something unintelligible.
Kim Chae-min nudged me in the side. He probably wanted me to say something, but I had no idea what to say in this situation.
Should I ask what kind of person his niece was?
We probably knew her better than he did.
But the words Michelle had asked us to convey—no matter how I thought about it, there was no one else to hear them but this man.
“Wait a moment.”
“Sorry?”
But just like his niece, Marceau didn’t listen to us.
He stood up abruptly and headed inside. I heard him climbing the stairs. I looked blankly at Kim Chae-min. He blinked. Hope, in contrast to his earlier grumbling, just sipped his milk and shrugged.
“……”
We just sat and drank our coffee and waited.
Fortunately, Marceau returned soon, carrying a small box.
He handed it to me without a word. I took it, surprised at how light it was.
Marceau sank onto the sofa and spoke.
“She left this for me to give to anyone who came looking for her.”