Chapter 217
Flashback.
Yoo Su-Jeong was a fashion design student at H University in Seoul. Male freshmen glanced at her as they chatted among each other.
“Whoa, who is that babe?”
“Is that an angel without wings?”
“She must be a senior. It’s the end of the second semester, but it’s my first time seeing her.”
“Yo, I’m gonna try talking to her. How’s my hair?”
“You look like a rooster.”
Two female freshmen stared at them pitifully.
“Snap out of it, boys.”
“Yeah, that upperclassman has a boyfriend.”
“What? Who?” the boy fixing his hair asked in disappointment.
One of the girls shrugged and replied, “No idea. There’s a truckload of men she rejected in the past four years, and they were all told the same thing.”
The other girl added, “Sorry, I have a boyfriend, was it? He’s an urban legend in the fashion design department.”
“T-there’s no way. Maybe she made one up because she doesn’t want to deal with the trouble? If I don’t annoy her, maybe I could—”
“Haaa, no matter how good a shadow boxer you are, you’ll never even reach the shadow of the fashion design department’s Mike Tyson.”
“Is it that hopeless?”
Su-Jeong smiled as she listened to her juniors chatting in the distance and thought, Freshmen, huh? How cute.
She was rather famous in the fashion design department. She was diligent in her studies, always sitting at the front of class and placing among the top three in her department. She was a 175-centimeter-tall, beautiful woman who worked part-time as a fit model at her professor’s recommendation. She was famous for not allowing any man to break down her walls.
Su-Jeong texted someone after preparing for class.
— Whatcha doing?
She received a text momentarily after.
— Yes, ma’am. I am working hard to protect our country for Commander Yoo Su-Jeong.
Su-Jeong giggled and replied.
— When’s your next leave, Sergeant First Class Park Sang-Min?
— Mmm, I’m not exactly sure because the situation at the front lines isn’t looking good.
— You know my birthday is next month, right?
Su-Jeong shook her head once there was a pause in his reply and mumbled, “Why am I together with this numbskull?”
Despite that, she was still smiling.
— I’ll kill you.
— I swear to make this right, ma’am.
— Forget that, do you have time or not?
— As long as you command it, I will secure a leave no matter what, even if I must take the military administrative officer hostage.
Su-Jeong’s smile widened as they exchanged texts.
— Take care out there. Don’t go out of your way to do anything dangerous.
— Okay. Study hard.
People believed Su-Jeong had made up an imaginary boyfriend to turn down those who hit on her respectfully, but she actually had a boyfriend named Park Sang-Min, a dependable man who had been protecting her since high school.
***
Screech! Crash!
Stereotypical onomatopoeias changed a girl’s life forever. A happy couple had been crossing a four-lane road once the pedestrian light turned green. There were skid marks on the road, pieces of glass and a car bumper were scattered across the asphalt like the Milky Way, and a wavy streak of blood.
That day, traffic news radio hosts had a field day, reporting a drunk driver hitting a couple, killing all three involved. Although there was nothing extraordinary about the news, the radio hosts probably did not know that the dead couple had a daughter who was merely eighteen years old.
***
The funeral was over, but the world was not. All Su-Jeong saw was black and white.
“Mom... Dad...”
Her school friends attended the funeral, and her homeroom teacher came to console her, but she couldn’t hear a word. Her relatives, whom she had not even seen during any holiday, hosted the funeral as if paying their final respects and left.
All she had left were two urns holding the finely ground bones of her parents. She couldn't believe that the two remains stored in the charnel house underneath the funeral home belonged to her parents.
She curled up into a ball, making herself as compact as possible, because she couldn’t believe that a person could even fit in the box holding each urn. She remained like that for a while and forced herself back up to the lobby, where she could hear receptionists answering calls and see everyone thinking about something. She looked past the double glass doors and saw people in hazmat suits walking past the charnel house.
Why are they in such a hurry when the world is already over? Su-Jeong wondered as she walked toward the doors in a trance.
The first glass door opened, and as she was about to walk past it, someone grabbed her shoulder and said, “If you’re going outside, wear a hazmat suit.”
“What?”
Su-Jeong turned back and saw a large boy wearing the same school uniform as her. After taking a closer look, she realized that she knew him. He always sat at the back of the class and had no friends because he barely talked, but did not seem to care.
“Park... Sang-Min?”
Su-Jeong could tell from Sang-Min’s eyes that he knew exactly what she had been about to do. She noticed a single chrysanthemum in his left hand.
“Let... go,” she mumbled.
“It’ll become even harder for you if you fail,” Sang-Min said as he let go of Su-Jeong’s shoulder. He pulled up his sleeves and showed her several cut marks on his wrists.
“What... are these?” she asked.
“My parents went missing two years ago. People call it Lost these days.”
Su-Jeong realized that the boy had already experienced the monochrome world before her. He pulled his sleeves back down and handed her the chrysanthemum without a word. At that moment, only the single flower seemed alive in the monochrome world, shining brightly.
“Hurgh! Waaaaah!” Su-Jeong burst into tears.
The monochrome people in the lobby stared at her. Sang-Min covered the crying Su-Jeong and turned around, allowing her to cry to her heart’s content without anyone looking at her. Once she raised her head after crying for what seemed like forever, she saw a back so wide that it could protect her from the entire world.
***
Sang-Min and Su-Jeong grew closer rapidly because of their similar experiences and ability to empathize with each other’s pain. Their mere existence was solace for the other, and they didn’t know when, but they ended up falling in love.
The two children who thought only about the end began to think more about beginnings. As a result, Sang-Min became a soldier after growing up, and Su-Jeong entered university to become a fashion designer as she had dreamed.
Sang-Min supported Su-Jeong financially in tuition and living expenses since he started earning money. To lessen his burdens, Su-Jeong studied hard, sometimes staying up all night, to receive grants from her university, and did her best as a fit model, a job she had earned by recommendation from her professor.
We’ll get married as soon as I graduate. It’d be great if Sang-Min could be positioned in the rear unit, Su-Jeong thought.
She was always worried about Sang-Min, stationed at the DMZ. The North Korean government collapsed when the pestilitas virus spread throughout the entire world. Now, North Korea was a lawless zone, controlled by several warlords. Shootouts at the DMZ occurred as commonly as once a month.
Even if he gets promoted faster that way...
Sang-Min had volunteered to be stationed at the DMZ for rapid promotion and long-term service. Su-Jeong knew better than anyone why Sang-Min was so hung up on promotion.
However, mere months before Su-Jeong’s graduation, more stereotypical onomatopoeias took away what was most important to her yet again.
Rat-a-tat-tat!
***
Sergeant First Class Park Sang-Min was left in critical condition after engaging with hostiles at the DMZ. He took three bullets, one of which punctured his head. He miraculously survived but went into a coma and required multiple surgeries.
“This is beyond what the military hospital can handle. I suggest you transfer him to a bigger hospital,” the military doctor said.
Su-Jeong transferred Sang-Min to a hospital renowned for brain surgery. She just barely managed to afford the initial surgery with her existing funds, the government subsidy that was a mere drop in the bucket, and bank loans. However, Sang-Min required continuous surgeries and care.
“Sang-Min... Wake up. Please,” Su-Jeong whispered to Sang-Min in the hospital bed countless times, but her voice did not reach him.
Several days after the surgery, a soldier whom Sang-Min served with applied for leave to visit him.
“This is... Sergeant First Class Park’s bag. He packed the things that he planned to take with him during his leave,” he said as he handed Su-Jeong a black bag.
Su-Jeong opened it and saw a beautifully wrapped box. She unwrapped it and opened the box to find a white compact.
“Sergeant First Class Park asked us what the best gift for a girlfriend was, weeks before the accident. He was always stoic, so we were surprised to...”
Su-Jeong opened the compact as she blankly listened to the soldier’s words. The lid clicked, and she saw a small mirror, reflecting a crying woman.
***
“Okay! Next!”
Camera shutter clicks sounded in a white studio where models posed before a camera, one after another. The entire studio had been rented for a photo shoot for Dasom, a large shopping mall. The photographer endlessly clicked the shutter as he asked for poses.
What do I do? I need to collect enough money somehow before the next surgery... Su-Jeong thought as she bit her nails, waiting for her turn.
Sang-Min received his second surgery, but he remained unconscious. The doctor told her that they needed to schedule a third surgery soon, but the problem was money. The surgery and hospital bills were far beyond what Su-Jeong, who had just graduated from university, could handle.
This part-time job won’t cut it! I’ve already borrowed money from everywhere I could!
She had abandoned her dream of becoming a designer like Coco Chanel and had taken on several part-time jobs, but time only made it clear how futile it was. As she continued to think about what to do, she heard the models around her whispering.
“She’s here again.”
“Yeah. She must be why the Dasom commercial photographer is here.”
“The title of model is wasted on her. Have you heard? The photographer Shin Myeong-Cheol is head over heels for her and...”
Su-Jeong turned to where the other models were looking and saw a woman in a slim red dress chatting with a neat and tidy middle-aged man with a smile.
Cha Mi-Yeon?
Her thick makeup emphasized her extravagance, and she was covered in brand-name accessories and a bag that a fit model like Su-Jeong could never even dream of affording. Su-Jeong had talked to her around twice because their photoshoot schedules had overlapped. There were all sorts of negative rumors about her, such as that she was full of herself and took the modeling business lightly.
“Hehe, I’ll see you next time,” Mi-Yeon said to the Dasom photographer.
“Why don’t you take part in the shoot?”
“I appreciate the offer, but I have an appointment. I just stopped by to greet you because I heard you were here.”
Mi-Yeon left the studio after saying her goodbyes to the photographer. Just then, Su-Jeong sprang up from her seat as if she were possessed and ran after Mi-Yeon.
“Next! Next?”
She heard the photographer calling for her behind her, but she did not stop.
“Huff! Huff! Miss Cha Mi-Yeon! Miss Cha Mi-Yeon!” Su-Jeong shouted.
“Hm?” Mi-Yeon turned around once she heard Su-Jeong’s voice from across the hallway. She thought for a moment and said, “Oh! I remember you. We met at the last photoshoot, didn’t we? The university student who was just about to graduate, right?”
“Yes. I... I wanted to ask you something.”
“Me? What is it?”
Su-Jeong calmed her breathing and gulped. She then asked desperately, “Is there a way for me... to earn as much money as you?”
“What?”
***
Su-Jeong saw a cold expression in full makeup in the small circular mirror. The smooth eyeliner, long eyelashes, red lips, pink cheeks, and bright blonde hair would make her look unrecognizable to those who had known her in the past.
She closed the compact and silently rubbed the lid as she thought, The surgery is tomorrow... If it goes well... Will you wake up?
“Su-Jeong!” the drunk Mi-Yeon shouted.
“What are you doing, unnie? Get off me,” Su-Jeong replied.
“Why~?” Mi-Yeon teased. “I bagged myself an ultra sucker today! Jealous?”
“I sure am, so get off me already. You reek of booze.”
Su-Jeong had gotten accustomed to the scent of alcohol that led to her parents’ deaths.
“You’re awfully chic today, aren’t you? Are you in Hwa-Yeon mode?” Mi-Yeon asked.
Su-Jeong had set a rule that she was Yoo Su-Jeong when she was not in makeup, and Yoo Hwa-Yeon when she was in full makeup.
“I have somewhere to go tomorrow, unnie,” Su-Jeong said instead of answering.
“Huh? Oh... the hospital?”
Su-Jeong nodded.
Mi-Yeon erased her playful smile and sighed. “You sure are devoted. It’s been a year... no, approaching two now.”
Hwa-Yeon let Mi-Yeon’s words go out the other ear as she placed the compact in her bag.
***
The red light, indicating that surgery was in progress, turned off after eight long hours. The surgeon walked out of the surgery room. Su-Jeong couldn’t make out his expression due to the mask, but her heart continued to pound from anxiety.
The surgeon removed his green scrub cap, approached Su-Jeong, and said, “I’m sorry. The patient has...”
A deathly silence fell. She felt an immense sense of vertigo, and everything went dark.
***
Perhaps it was because she had been prepared for it to happen, or that she had experienced it before—she followed procedure and accepted the result, which was one urn.
She held the urn in her arms and laughed blankly, “Hah... Haha! I put on makeup, and you were cremated[1]... A funny world we live in.”
Sang-Min was placed beside Su-Jeong’s parents in the charnel house.
Hwa-Yeon stared at the three urns filled with joys, sorrows, and the essence of life, and realized, “Life is... so simple. You die... and go into this tiny box. It’s like a new apartment suite for the dead. Land is still expensive, even now... Hahaha!”
The world had turned monochrome before she had realized it. She kissed the three urns and walked up the steps to the lobby. Nothing had changed about this place from when she was eighteen.
She opened the glass door, wondering whether someone would stop her. She walked forward, but there was no such person—there wouldn’t be, for the rest of her life.
The second glass door opened. The world without her hazmat suit and oxygen tank was cold. She looked up at the sky and saw the crescent moon of Seoul, looking down at her.
“It’s... snowing.”
She vanished with the appearance of the first snow.
***
Su-Jeong ended up in the Dark Forest, the path one must take to reach the Mirror World. She wondered if she could become someone else in another world and have a fresh start. She was happy that she was Lost since she did not think she could live on Earth anymore.
When people were introducing themselves, she smiled brightly and said, “Hello, my name is Yoo Hwa-Yeon.”
She put thick makeup on her ego and feelings by pretending to be Yoo Hwa-Yeon. She wanted to live desperately, help her teammates, have a bright and pleasant personality, be relentless, and want a new start—that was the Yoo Hwa-Yeon she imagined and acted as. However, underneath that act, she was pessimistic and empty.
It doesn’t matter, she thought.
Nothing mattered to her. It was why she had taken Ha Rin’s place without hesitation when the murderer, Carlos, was about to take Rin hostage. It was why she volunteered to stay in the Dark Forest when the party decided to send five people to the Mirror World first. It was why she did not resent Kim Seung-Jun when he was about to kill her to clear the black quest.
However, one man had barged into her life when her meaningless life was about to end; the bear-like, pretentious man with a two-block haircut, tattoo sleeves on both arms, and premium clothes and accessories.
She had met countless men like him—they were the kind she disliked the most. However, that man had gone against Seung-Jun and covered her with his wide back, just like how Sang-Min had done for the eighteen-year-old Yoo Su-Jeong.
“Heh! Are you treating me like a knockoff? I’m not running or giving up. My life is a goddamn premium.”
Na Seong-Tae burned as brightly as the flames that seemed to acknowledge his existence. He lived every day as if it were his last, and remained standing no matter what was in his way or how hard he was pushed.
“True premiums shine brightly on their own!”
Seong-Tae shone brightly as if he had found meaning in his life. He defeated Seung-Jun and carefully lifted her.
“Huff, huff. Hang in there, Hwa-Yeon. I’ll keep you safe.”
Hwa-Yeon slightly opened her eyes and saw Seong-Tae sprinting with her in his arms, panting heavily as he restlessly kept wary of his surroundings. He smelled like burnt flesh because he had cauterized the wound Seung-Jun had inflicted on him.
It smells... familiar, she thought.
She had smelled it when her parents and Sang-Min’s bodies were cremated. She wondered whether she would find it meaningless even if this man were to die and be cremated. She fell asleep with that thought.
***
After that, they spent their days together in the Mirror World. Hwa-Yeon knew how Seong-Tae felt about her. Although he was clumsy at expressing his feelings, he did so in his own way.
However, she intentionally ignored his feelings and kept her distance, weighed down by her memories on Earth. Each time Hwa-Yeon took a step back, Seong-Tae did not chase after her and waited. He did the same when she took a step forward.
I’m sorry... Once my heart is ready... I will...
A year had passed since she thought that, but now, Seong-Tae was unconscious with his ears and one arm severed. She was repeating the same mistake.
End of flashback.
***
“Chwik! You thoughtless human woman! Do you seriously think I can’t beat the likes of you just because I can’t use my right arm? Chwik! I am a great warrior, granted the title of Shanyan!” Museci shouted as he unsheathed the longsword he was given with his left hand.
Hwa-Yeon stared at him lifelessly and mumbled, “Makeup or cremation... I’m sick of them.”
[Commencing rule establishment of Destiny Weapon: Yoo Su-Jeong’s Compact.]
[Please establish an ability.]
“But... I’ll keep putting on makeup, so I look as beautiful as sorrowfully possible.”
She unsheathed a shortsword from her waist with her right hand and grabbed something that resembled a black bean from her pocket with her left.
She had researched establishing D Weapon rules because she was the only one among the original Dark Forest party who had not done so yet. D Weapons that displayed powerful abilities tended to contain far more of the wielder’s subconscious, trauma, wishes, and background than normal.
However, the more powerful the ability, the greater the restriction. Restrictions did not include just stats, but could also demand abstract costs like the wielder’s mentality or resolve.
“The only thing I can give is... this worthless face. You can have it.”
Hwa-Yeon flicked up the black bean with her left thumb without hesitation. The beans were Pyrobombs, which she had used the majority of her Coins to buy.
[Pyrobomb (Consumable Item)
Rank: D
Description: A bomb created by the alchemist, Georgi Staykov, using his personal recipe of fireweed, a spark plug, oil-based medicine, and more. It burns for ten seconds when mana is infused into it.]
It was as small as a bean, but an item nonetheless. It was more than enough to burn the flesh of a C-rank human like Hwa-Yeon. The Pyrobomb exploded once it reached her face level, and its flames ate the flesh of her face. The smell of burning flesh was familiar.
“KYAAAAAHHH! HWA-YEON UNNIE!”
“What the hell is she—”
“Don’t move. The Rite of the Plains is in progress,” Seong-Hwi interjected as the One Tree clansmen screamed and were about to step in.
His eyes were like crescent moons, as if he were witnessing something interesting.
[You abandoned values tied to face, beauty, means, and persona.]
[Eternally recording this feat in the Akasha.]
...
[Reflecting Karma in the rule establishment.]
The flames from the Pyrobomb disappeared once ten seconds passed, revealing Hwa-Yeon’s face, which had undoubtedly suffered third-degree burns.
“Chwik! Self-harm?! So, you’ve given up on life!” Museci shouted, charging at Hwa-Yeon as if victory was already in sight.
Even if he couldn’t use his right arm, he could still use his stats and skills. He believed he could easily defeat a crazy woman. Hwa-Yeon stared at the overconfident Museci as she took out the powder puff from the compact and applied powder to her face, which was still smoking from the burns, as if it were ointment to treat her wounds.
“Chwik! Enough of that bizarre act and just die!” Museci shouted as he activated his skill.
[Activating Unique Skill: Ata’s Heroic Soul.]
A light blue orc heroic soul appeared behind Museci. He swung his longsword horizontally to slice Hwa-Yeon’s waist, and the heroic soul did the same. However, the attack missed.
“Chwik?”
The woman, whose torso should have been separated from her legs, was nowhere in sight. Just then, he felt a searing pain in his left ear.
“Argh!” he shouted as he reflexively moved Ata’s Heroic Soul and used a skill toward the rear.
[Activating Skill: Wind Slash.]
The Wind Slash was sent flying toward the rear once Ata’s Heroic Soul swung its sword, destroying everything in its path.
“Kurgh! Chwik! How dare you sever my ear?!”
Museci clenched his bloody left ear and turned around. The dry leaves had been ripped to pieces and were scattered throughout the surroundings, but the human woman was completely fine, holding a bloody shortsword. Even the burns on her face were gone.
“A transformation rule? No, not quite,” Seong-Hwi mumbled as he observed Hwa-Yeon.
Her appearance had completely changed. She now had peach-colored skin, cherry lips, vibrant light pink cheeks, thick and smooth eyeliner, and most of all, bright blonde hair.
“I’ll take... your right ear, too!” Hwa-Yeon shouted as her eyes blazed like those of a demon, exuding bloodlust.
[Converting Destiny Weapon Yoo Su-Jeong’s Compact to Yoo Hwa-Yeon’s Compact.]
...
[Yoo Hwa-Yeon’s Compact (Destiny Weapon)
Rank: C(99)
Description: A compact that Yoo Hwa-Yeon values, grieves, loathes, and loves above all else. All stats temporarily rise drastically by putting on makeup.
Unique Skill: Full Makeup]
***
If you’re sad, add more lipstick and attack.
Gabrielle Bonheur Chanel
1. Makeup (화장) and cremation (화장) use the same Korean characters, but different Chinese characters. ☜