Retire 431
by Cristae431 The Mist of Mont Saint-Michel (4)
“Another interview request came in.”
At the sound of the front door opening, Woo Heejae spoke up without lifting his body from where he sprawled across the sofa.
At this hour, there was only one person who could be coming home. Besides, with that ominous aura flaring up outside the door, how could anyone not know? It was a good thing they’d moved from an apartment to a detached house back in middle school. If they still lived in the city, it would have been a real nuisance.
“What?”
“An interview.”
Woo Heejae waved a hand dismissively. Hong Seokyoung’s eyes went wide as he took off his shoes. Only then did Woo Heejae lift his head slightly to look at Hong Seokyoung, a faint crease appearing at the corner of his eye.
He’d spent a long time standing outside the door, calming his turbulent mana, only to act as if nothing was wrong. It was almost comical.
Still, that didn’t mean he disliked it. He just didn’t like the idea of having to say something harsh to someone who was finally, truly human.
“Interview?”
“Yes. Mont Saint-Michel.”
As expected, the man who’d come home late, buried under work, scowled openly.
“I told you I’m not doing anything related to that.”
“I know. That’s why I turned it down. I just wanted you to know the request came in.”
Hong Seokyoung stuck out his lips and grumbled.
He headed to the kitchen, gulped down a glass of cold water, and only after his twisted insides had settled did he turn to Woo Heejae, who was still lying on the sofa, scrolling through his phone.
“Who was it?”
“You know, the place you always curse at.”
“They’re still asking me for interviews?”
Woo Heejae shrugged.
“No idea. They have to know you turn them down every time.”
“It’s not like I’ve only said no once or twice…”
“Didn’t you curse them out to their faces?”
“I even smashed their camera once, made a scene.”
“…When? Didn’t they sue you?”
“Ages ago. I told them to do their worst. Wasn’t a civil servant back then.”
Woo Heejae looked at his foster father in disbelief, then shook his head.
It was well known that Hong Seokyoung disliked journalists. After founding the Awakened Administration, he’d tolerated the occasional personal interview, but even that had dwindled once the Administration was fully established. Maybe because there was someone else to pass the buck to. Unless it was truly unavoidable, Hong Seokyoung still refused interviews.
Yet, requests kept coming, undeterred.
Despite the old saying that even the hardest tree will fall after ten swings of the axe, there are some trees that never fall, no matter how hard you chop. If he was ever going to give an interview, he would have done it by now. If he still hasn’t, maybe they should get the message. Woo Heejae, too afraid to ask the man himself, glared at the endless stream of reporters’ messages coming through the Administration, sick of it all.
On the other hand, it meant that the latest Mont Saint-Michel raid had been that shocking.
Even with Hong Seokyoung there, it had ended in failure.
“Those people have no basic decency as humans.”
Hong Seokyoung snatched the phone from Woo Heejae’s hand and turned it off, muttering.
“They’ve always been like that. What do they think a failed raid means, huh? It means people died.”
“Well… when have reporters ever cared about that?”
“That’s exactly why I’m saying it. Isn’t it about time they started caring? Don’t you think so, Heejae?”
“I suppose…”
As far as Woo Heejae could remember, the words “failed raid” had never applied to Hong Seokyoung.
Of course, Hong Seokyoung was human, and no one could do everything perfectly. Sometimes he’d withdraw from a dungeon. As Korea’s strongest Hunter, he often entered high-difficulty dungeons, places he’d never been, without a scouting team.
If he judged a raid was possible, he’d go for it. If not, he’d pull out without hesitation. It’s not like the dungeon would run away—he could just regroup and try again later. Safety first.
But Mont Saint-Michel was different.
It had been two months since Hong Seokyoung entered the infamous Library. After nearly a month, the raid ended in failure, and Hong Seokyoung declared it unconquerable.
The party he led had a fifty percent survival rate.
In a world where all sorts of things happened every day, the fact that, after two months, people still hadn’t forgotten said it all.
Woo Heejae glanced at Hong Seokyoung.
Seeing him grumble about reporters with that sulky face, it was hard not to wonder if the man had actually aged at all. He used to seem more mature… Maybe, despite his denials, he’d become more like Team 1’s leader after spending so much time together.
“But…”
Woo Heejae watched him, then asked cautiously.
“What’s in there that’s so bad? You told the French government, right?”
“…Well. They have a right to know.”
“They’re going to try again?”
“They can’t just leave it alone.”
“But you said it was impossible to clear.”
“It’s not that there’s no way. It’s just that you don’t know how many will die.”
“Hmm…”
It was the first time Woo Heejae had heard him speak so decisively.
But curiosity about the world’s longest-unconquered dungeon won out.
“…The fifth floor?”
“…Heejae, you snuck a look at the French report, didn’t you?”
“…”
“I locked that down! It’s classified! What if the French government finds out?”
“I used your credentials!”
“Is that something to brag about?”
“It just shows how thorough I was.”
“If I can’t even say anything…”
Hong Seokyoung shook his head.
That was the only time Woo Heejae looked nervous. Knowing he wouldn’t actually get scolded, he quickly regained his composure.
“But for something you say can’t be left alone, you’ve let it sit for quite a while. You even blocked others from trying.”
“If I ask someone else to do it, I have to give them all sorts of support.”
“…So you’re being stingy now?”
“France is part of the Alps, too. That’s been a headache for them.”
“Still…”
“And even without that, there were always plenty of volunteers for Mont Saint-Michel. It’s only recently that the numbers have dropped. That’s why France is starting to get desperate.”
Hong Seokyoung clicked his tongue in irritation as he explained.
“What’s Mont Saint-Michel’s nickname, Heejae?”
“The Library?”
“Who do you think covets that library?”
“…Mages, right?”
“Exactly. Every so often, some great mage goes on a rampage and tries to get in. Does the government really need to take the lead?”
“…Were they hoping rogue mages would solve it for them?”
“You think it’s just mages? Plenty of guilds have tried. Back in the day, the Association used to beg people at the Unconquered Dungeon Forum not to go in there.”
“Oh…”
“And still, no one cleared it. So many people died, even the most reckless mages and guilds started to develop a sense of self-preservation.”
“You still haven’t, though.”
“…”
“So?”
Hong Seokyoung looked at his son, unable to win, and gave a wry smile before continuing.
“So what? Now that the free Hunters have stopped going in, France can’t just hope for a lucky break anymore.”
“But…”
Unconquerable.
Many of those who died this time were as famous as Hong Seokyoung. Rachel Bennett was one of them. She had been a prominent Hunter representing Britain since her youth, and her funeral was a state affair, held without a body.
Woo Heejae swallowed what he’d been about to say. Bennett had been a longtime friend of Hong Seokyoung’s.
“…You said there might be a way?”
“To be precise, there might be. I have to check.”
“What kind of way?”
“Well…”
“Come on, you can at least tell me that!”
“What would you do with it? You’re not thinking of going into Mont Saint-Michel, are you?”
“I’m not even a Hunter.”
“Good. Keep it that way. Don’t set foot in France.”
“…You do remember next year’s rune conference is in Paris, right?”
“Don’t go. Just don’t.”
“If I don’t go, who will… Anyway, what’s the method?”
“I said, what would you do with it?”
“It might be useful in other dungeons!”
“Hmm…”
Hong Seokyoung pretended to consider, then grinned and stood up.
“Ah, I should get to bed! Getting old, it’s hard to stay up late.”
“What nonsense is that?”
“Tomorrow… Let’s see, is Hyunwook coming? Seohyun too, is that tomorrow, Heejae?”
“Park Seohyun the mage is coming the day after… Hey, don’t run away! So what is it?”
“I’ll tell you when you’re older. When you’re older.”
“Older how!”
“Why does my body feel so stiff…”
Ignoring his foster son’s protests, Hong Seokyoung suddenly stopped and turned around as if he’d just remembered something.
“What, what is it?”
“You. You’re still wearing the dog tag I gave you, right?”
“Huh?”
“The dog tag. You haven’t taken it off?”
“…You said to keep it on at all times.”
“Good. Don’t take it off, not even when you sleep. Are you wearing it now?”
“Yes.”
Woo Heejae, still confused, pulled out the leather cord hidden under his shirt. A small piece of metal dangled from it.
Hong Seokyoung nodded in satisfaction.
“Good. Never take it off.”
With that, he slipped into his room. It was obvious he was running away.
Woo Heejae stared at the closed door in disbelief.
“…What’s with him, seriously?”
The past, someone’s future, and everyone’s present.
A Hunter Training High School somewhere in Gyeonggi Province.
“We gave up on conquering it.”
“On the fourth floor?”
“We thought we’d never get out of there.”
Funès spoke with a somber face.
“We had enough supplies, and there were no monsters, so we just kept going. We were mapping the maze, so we figured we’d go as far as we could, and if not, we’d turn back.”
His words contradicted the idea of having given up.
I didn’t point it out. I didn’t want to speak lightly about what it must have felt like for Hunters lost in an endless maze.
Unlike the Mont Saint-Michel raid my father led at the French government’s request, Funès’s party was composed solely of French Hunters.
Pride and concern for one’s own country are universal feelings. It’s not just about money and fame…
“If I’d known how it would turn out, I’d have left without looking back.”
Funès buried his face in his hands. The seasoned air he’d carried now gave way to exhaustion. The Hunter, worn down by years, could no longer hide his fatigue.
“We were all excited to finally escape the maze.”
Still, Funès calmly continued his story to the end.
“There was a lot of powder on the fifth floor.”
“Powder? The fairy’s scales?”
“Yes. It rolled around like dust. Honestly, my memory’s not perfect from here on. We were just trying to escape… But that fairy—I still remember it clearly.”
A fairy, white from head to toe, like the one in the Alpine dungeon.
The party scattered in panic, unable to mount a proper defense. Those who managed to retreat to the maze were the lucky ones…
“Even if they were the same species, I think the one in Mont Saint-Michel was more mature.”
“Fairies have a mature form?”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“Well…”
“And this one was more horrifying.”
Funès gave a weary smile.
“I still don’t know what it was… but it controlled people.”
“…What?”
“One of my friends suddenly went berserk, started attacking us.”
Funès mimed swinging a sword, as if stabbing an invisible foe. Even after all these years, he couldn’t forget, and he imitated the actions of someone I’d never met.
“When you teach about fairies, make sure you tell them this.”
Then Funès burst out laughing.
“The best way to deal with fairies is not to deal with them at all.”