Retire 298

298 Will (4)

Among the students from the pilot high school, there are only a few whose whereabouts are clearly known.

Park Seohyun and Oh Hyunwook.

The next year’s only new student: Yoo Jieun.

Other than these three, nothing is known about the other children who left school after the Myeongdong Dungeon Break.

Hong Seokyoung’s influence surely played a part, and Im Miseon must have worked behind the scenes to keep anyone from finding the children. There’s no way Korean reporters would have left such prey alone. Even now, at the current training high school where Hong Seokyoung stands guard, reporters try to get in from time to time.

Of course, since the school is in the middle of a field with no buildings nearby, it’s impossible to approach secretly.

In truth, my father bore no fault in the Myeongdong incident. If anything, it was only that he trusted the guild in charge of the Myeongdong Dungeon enough to let them supervise the field training.

But the world loves a hero’s tragedy.

If it had been me, I would have given up everything, or at the very least, clung to the school and given up on founding the Agency long ago. In that sense, my father is still remarkable. My sister, too. I hate to admit it, but… Han Taekyung as well.

At first, I thought Han Taekyung had only been dragged in by my father and forced into teaching at the Academy, something he’d never planned for.

Honestly, that impression hasn’t changed much, but now there’s something more.

Among the students who left school after the Myeongdong incident was Han Eunyoung—Han Taekyung’s younger sister.

Why did Han Taekyung choose to work at the school his sister had left? Was it because Hong Seokyoung asked him? Did he just want to try being a teacher?

After learning about their relationship, I started to see Han Taekyung at the Academy a little differently.

Han Eunyoung always bristled like a hedgehog whenever she saw Han Taekyung, but that didn’t mean they had a bad relationship. If you watched closely, it was usually Han Eunyoung who would approach her brother first, pouting her lips. If she truly hated him, she’d have acted as if he didn’t exist.

The same was true in reverse. Han Taekyung was even more open about it—nagging her to answer their parents’ calls, giving unsolicited advice during her training, and soaking up all her irritation. He seemed to enjoy it. No, to be precise, he found it endearing.

To put it simply, Han Taekyung and Han Eunyoung were, in their own way, a close pair of siblings.

So why would Han Taekyung work at the school his sister had left? In the original timeline, maybe Han Eunyoung overcame the incident and lived her life as best she could.

No matter how much Han Taekyung cared, I can’t imagine he would have worked right next to his sister if she was still struggling.

…But that’s just my guess. There’s no logical basis for it. I know I’m being too optimistic.

But that aloof, fastidious girl, who always made it obvious when she didn’t want to do something, but would step up and do it anyway instead of saying no—

Wouldn’t it be nice if a child who tried so hard was living well?

[It’s been a long time, Jieun.]

Instead of leaving behind a letter like this.

The letter was not from Han Eunyoung. I have no idea what Han Eunyoung or Seo Hanseong did after leaving school.

…Actually, the one I worried about most was Seo Hanseong. With a background like his, I’d have felt much better if he’d stayed at the Academy and received ongoing care.

Or, better yet, if he’d lived a life completely unrelated to Hunters and dungeons. It’s not as if my father would have cut off his support just because he quit being a Hunter.

[If you’re reading this letter, it probably means I’m dead, or in a state close to it.]

Likewise, I never thought Soon Soonjin would have continued being a Hunter.

I steadied myself and read the letter. Soon Soonjin’s letter began much like the wills left by the Agency’s Hunters.

Those wills can only be read by the person they’re meant for. I don’t want to read them, either. But after someone’s death, sometimes you have no choice but to read them as part of the process.

Most are similar.

I’m sorry to have left first.

You know how much I love you.

I love you.

I’m sorry.

I love you…

Soon Soonjin’s letter was full of apologies.

[I really didn’t want to do anything to make you sad. So I tried really hard. But seeing how things turned out, I guess there are things in this world that can’t be fixed no matter how hard you try. It’s unfair, isn’t it.]

Neat handwriting pressed firmly onto the stationery.

I pictured, instead of the adult Soon Soonjin I’d never seen, a small, bob-haired girl sitting at a school desk, writing her letter.

It was an image I’d never seen, and never wanted to see.

Even if these kids graduate and become Hunters as they wish, and end up writing letters like this someday—

I don’t want to see it.

Father…

How did Father endure this?

How did he bear it, every time he heard news of the death of a child who called him “teacher” and followed him?

I don’t know.

I don’t know…

[I thought about visiting you, but I was afraid I’d just end up worrying a kid who was living well. You’re in the news a lot, so even if you’re far away, it’s easy to hear about you.]

Soon Soonjin’s letter was calm and quiet, so unlike the playful, mischievous seventeen-year-old girl I remembered.

I’d braced myself for the possibility that, like Father, my sister might have left a letter behind. In truth, I’d hoped for it.

My last memories of my sister are just the argument in the conference room over the Bangi-dong Dungeon, and… what happened in the middle of a burning Seoul.

If she left anything behind for me, at least—

“…Ah.”

Maybe my sister left Soon Soonjin’s letter here for the same reason.

So she would never forget.

So she could always keep it close to her heart.

She uploaded it to the database, locked so no one but herself could open it.

For a moment, I wondered if I should keep reading.

But there’s no one left to scold me for sneaking a look. If I can find out how Soon Soonjin died, maybe I can change that future.

[The last time I saw you, I was worried about you. But I’m glad the principal took good care of you. And Seohyun and Hyunwook, too.]

……

Was Soon Soonjin another of Father’s type?

If she knew Park Seohyun and Oh Hyunwook, I’m not sure I’d call it “taking good care of them.”

[I was surprised to hear they’re both still standing as Hunters. Hanseong and I were always afraid we’d hear news of them dying in some dungeon right after graduation.]

Ah.

So that’s the standard.

If that’s how she thinks, I can accept it.

More than half of the letter was filled with memories from the brief time she spent with Yoo Jieun as a high school student.

[Do you remember? When we first met. Was it with Hyeun, eating hamburgers? You chased after us from a distance, telling us not to bully Hyeun.

Even when we said we were friends, you wouldn’t listen. You just shouted, ‘My sister doesn’t have friends!’ I never saw Hyeun so flustered, before or since.]

If my sister were still alive, I would have teased her endlessly about all these things.

Soon Soonjin’s letter was full of the things kids that age do together. Even though their ordinary lives had been shattered in the worst possible way…

Here, at least, it’s still preserved.

That day in Myeongdong, saving the children—just as Hong Seokyoung said, it changed everything.

I read the letter to the end. Soon Soonjin, who was not a Hunter, left a will just like a Hunter would.

Soon Soonjin was close to Im Miseon, Lee Seungyeon’s aunt. And Im Miseon was not only a Korean Hunter, but also a member of the Supernatural Association. The Special Activities Department of the Association is a bit removed from the Association’s work managing Hunters and dungeons. They deal more with illegal raids and the black market for monster byproducts… more with people than monsters.

If Soon Soonjin joined the Association under Im Miseon, it makes sense that she’d leave a letter like this.

[Now that this has happened to me, Hanseong might come find you. We promised that if something happened to one of us, the other would deliver the letter we left for you. If you see Hanseong, don’t be too hard on him.]

Then did Seo Hanseong join Im Miseon with Soon Soonjin?

There was no direct mention of the Association in the letter. Im Miseon’s name didn’t come up, either.

Just an ordinary, unremarkable…

No, that’s not right. I don’t mean the letter was insignificant—just that it really felt like a normal letter.

It had the easy tone of a friend writing a letter by hand from far away, just for the fun of it.

[I’m really sorry. I truly meant to come see you. That’s why people like us shouldn’t put things off when we want to do them. In the end, I couldn’t.

Still, Jieun. I always hope you’ll be healthy and well. Hyeun would want that, too.

So, so Jieun.

Take care, okay.]

……

That was how the letter ended.

Beside Soon Soonjin’s name, a fingerprint—presumably hers—was stamped in red.

I closed the window and looked for something else.

If my sister put things she wanted to carry with her into the mana watch, there might be others.

She could have left something of her own. Maybe this one just happened to be at the top.

Father only left a few.

My sister, unlike Father, didn’t revise old documents. There were other wills—Soon Soonjin’s, and others. Some names I recognized, many I didn’t.

So many people left their last words to my sister. Is this what counts as a successful life? To have earned this much trust and love from others?

Ah. I don’t want it.

If trust only comes back to you this way, I don’t want it.

But my sister stubbornly carried the dead on her back. That’s just like her.

Did she want to make sure the dead wouldn’t die again? Really, that’s just like her.

She’s exactly like Father.

“…So annoying.”

I buried my face in my hands and sat still. If only I could think of something else. It was hard to breathe under the weight of these emotions.

If only Kim Chaemin were here, I could talk about work—how the mana grass cultivation was going. If Hong Seokyoung were here, he’d drag me into a sparring match until I couldn’t think at all.

But there was no one. In this state, I couldn’t even go pick up Woo Irok. That kid, quick as he was clueless, would sense my mood and go silent, just like in the lab.

Thud!

“Waaaah!!!”

But then, from the playground, came a loud noise and the children’s cheers.

They still hadn’t finished clearing away the monster’s corpse from the field. Alarmed, I hurried outside to see what was happening.

“Ah, Han Taekyung!!”

“Call me oppa! Or teacher?”

“No way!!!”

“If you hit me once, I’ll let you call me nuna.”

“No!!!”

Han Eunyoung gritted her teeth and got to her feet. She must have landed in the flower bed—there were a few leaves tangled in her hair.

She charged at Han Taekyung, who dodged her attacks with ease.

“If I win, you have to watch ten Chase episodes with me.”

“How am I supposed to beat you!!!”

“That’s the point.”

The children burst out laughing. Every single one of them was shaking with laughter. Even Yoo Jieun was rolling on the ground, clutching her stomach.

I stood there for a long while, just watching them.