Chapter 220. Dispatch (6)
Fwoosh—
The particles of light that had been pouring out of the cylinder faded completely. At the same time, the smoke that had filled the space dissipated, and the air finally felt breathable again.
The crow rubbed its head affectionately against Eun-Ho. “Thank you, my friend!”
Ayasa also reached out and offered a handshake. “You did well.”
The moment their hands met, a message window appeared.
[The trial has been completed.]
[Trial: Exterminate the Monster in the Fir Forest and Satisfy the Client]
[Total Time Elapsed: 3 hours 59 minutes]
The purification of the Sealed Ward and the extermination of the fir forest monsters were completed without incident.
“That wrapped up faster than I expected. The bonus rewards should be pretty hefty.”
Bonus rewards?
When he had first accepted the trial, there had been a clear time limit.
[Time Limit: 24 hours]
[Rewards: 100,000 Welfare Points and 10,000 Welfare Points for every hour saved]
Since they had cleared it in under four hours, they had shaved off roughly twenty hours.
So that’s a base of one hundred thousand, plus two hundred thousand more, Eun-Ho thought.
[The Labor-Management Cooperation Team has earned 300,000 Welfare Points.[]
[You have earned 75,000 Points as the team leader.]
The enormous points were divided among the four participants.
On top of that, Ayasa rummaged through her pocket, saying casually, “This one’s a personal gift from me.”
[The client’s satisfaction has exceeded the required threshold.]
[Please check your additional rewards!]
So this is what the system meant, Eun-Ho thought.
He had expected something else, but a gift was a gift, no matter who it came from. “This is...”
Ayasa tossed something to each of them as if throwing a ball. The item was a roll of pale paper, stuffed with a powder that suspiciously seemed like dried herbal medicine. It seemed identical to the cigarette Ayasa had in her mouth.
“It’s handmade. Use it well.”
“I don’t smoke,” Eun-Ho said flatly.
“Think of it as a lollipop.”
“Sorry?”
As soon as he held the stiff, smooth cylinder between his fingers, an explanation appeared.
[Vitality Tobacco]
- A cigarette made by rolling dried Vitality Herb and Vigor Herb together. Provides analgesic, sedative, and antipyretic effects.
- If used when your Stamina is below 50%, Stamina is restored up to 80%. If used above 50%, Stamina increases up to 150%.
- Duration is 3 hours. Afterward, your Stamina returns to the level it was at before use.
- However, excessive use may result in addiction.
In other words, even if his Stamina dropped to one percent, lighting this would let him fight at near-full capacity for three hours.
That could save my life in an emergency.
Three hours was more than enough time to escape or find another solution. However, the problem was the final line.
- However, excessive use may result in addiction.
“Addiction?” Eun-Ho asked.
Ayasa shrugged. “You won’t get hooked from using it once or twice, so don’t worry.”
Eun-Ho mirrored the gesture. “I’m more worried about you than me.”
She froze as she was about to hand the last cigarette to Swear-Master.
It’s quite obvious, you know, Eun-Ho thought.
Her fingers trembled just slightly. She had been smoking nonstop ever since dropping the “timid junior researcher” act. Besides, that curly-haired kid’s words made it clear that this hadn’t been a recent habit.
“I said I’d let you call me that if you quit smoking!”
“Tsk. You’re such a petty kid.”
“You’re already addicted, aren’t you?” Eun-Ho asked.
“... Damn it. This is why I hate sharp kids.”
Honestly, even someone slow would have noticed, but he kept that thought to himself.
Ayasa pressed her fingers against her temples. “Whenever I come down here, my head starts pounding.”
“Even now? The dark green miasma is gone,” Eun-Ho said.
“It’s not because of that... Anyway, just drop it,” she added with a bitter smile, “it’s usually not this bad.”
Swear-Master, who had eagerly accepted it, now eyed the cigarette suspiciously. “What’s this thing, anyway? It’s safe, right?”
Ayasa replied, “As long as you don’t chain-smoke it for days, you’ll be fine.”
“I’m not gonna drop dead from this, am I?”
“Hey. If you don’t want it, give it back.”
“No! I-I mean, who said I didn’t want it... Ma’am?”
Ayasa snorted at his sudden politeness, then turned to the crow perched on Eun-Ho’s shoulder, preening its feathers. “What about you? You said you had something to give.”
“Ah! Right!” The crow snapped its head up and took off into the air. “I’d like to give one to everyone, but even making a single one takes a long time.”
“He says there’s only one.” Ayasa added helpfully.
The crow circled above their heads once, perhaps as an apology, then dropped something pitch-black into Eun-Ho’s arms.
“What is this?”
It was a wing made of jet-black feathers, bound together like polished ebony. About the length of his forearm, it shimmered with an unmistakably powerful aura.
[Dusky Crow Wing]
- A wing crafted from feathers brimming with the Dusky Crow’s vitality, bonded together using the crow’s saliva.
- Detachable, but when attached to the body, temporarily grants the ability to fly.
- Grants the auxiliary skill Feather Scatter, allowing the user to throw four feathers at enemies.
Eun-Ho’s eyes widened.
“He’s been making it little by little, saying he’d give it to you someday,” explained Ayasa.
“H-hey! Don’t say unnecessary things!” said the crow.
“See how uneven the feathers are? He only plucked the newly grown ones,” said Ayasa.
“Ahem! Would you mind keeping your mouth shut?” the crow shot back.
“Why should I?”
Seventy-five thousand Welfare Points was already an absurd reward, not to mention the Vitality Tobacco on top of that. Yet there was something especially meaningful about an item crafted from the crow’s own feathers.
“Thank you,” Eun-Ho said, meeting the crow’s eyes.
He really meant it.
“Ahem... If you’re going to do great things, you need at least this muc—”
Eun-Ho added softly, “My friend.”
The crow froze mid-flap. “Kaaaw!”
***
Besides a restroom, Eun-Ho thought there couldn’t be many places that were hard to get into but easy to get out of. The Sealed Ward turned out to be one of them.
[The Sealed Ward has been fully purified.]
They really meant fully, it seemed. Only an ordinary hospital building, worn down by time, remained. The corridors were empty and spotless, as if no battle had ever taken place. The experimental subjects had also vanished like a lie.
“It’s clean,” Ji-Eun said quietly.
She frowned slightly, blinking as if she couldn’t quite process what she was seeing. After standing there in silence for a moment, she bowed deeply.
“Noonim...” said Jae-Hyuk.
Her bow was directed down the long, unobstructed corridor, toward the research lab at the far end. She didn’t say a word.
Eun-Ho watched her with a heavy heart. The thought that she had personally slain thousands of monsters who were once human had likely been weighing on her.
Jae-Hyuk followed suit, bowing as well. Eun-Ho did the same. They bowed in silence, heads lowered, for the countless souls that had been twisted into something else and erased.
Clatter.
Then, something slipped out of Eun-Ho’s pocket and hit the floor. “Huh?”
It was a small marble he had never seen before. About the size of a fingernail, it shimmered faintly, blue and gold intermingled.
“What is that, Hyungnim?” Jae-Hyuk asked.
“No idea,” Eun-Ho replied, tilting his head. “When did this get into my pocket?”
The moment he picked it up, a message appeared.
[You have obtained a Memory Orb.]
“A memory orb?” Eun-Ho murmured.
It reminded him of the memory fragments he had seen earlier. Come to think of it, the color was almost identical to the light particles that had poured out of the cylinder. Perhaps it was the crystallization of that light?
He turned to Ayasa and asked, “Could this be the memory we saw earlier?”
Ayasa answered calmly with a question of her own, “What did you see?”
“A curly-haired kid talking with the crow... and another colleague who was good with words,” Eun-Ho said.
“Good with words? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know, the one with black hair and black eyes—” He stopped mid-sentence because something was off.
I thought we had all clearly seen it together earlier. Why is she asking?
“Wait. Didn’t you see it too?” Eun-Ho asked.
“That memory was opened only to you.”
“What?”
Only to me?
[Test Subject #9999 is responding to the Owner of the Hour Hand.]
Because I’m the owner of the Hour Hand?
Ayasa took the orb and rolled it between her fingers. “But this is different. This one’s materialized, so you should be able to project it.”
Following that, a dark screen flickered into existence on the empty wall.
“The ceiling?”
“It looks like the research lab from earlier,” Ji-Eun said quickly. “The layout’s the same.”
Then, a voice echoed from the orb.
「Last experimental subject. Inject the composite into the heart and apply preservation.」
Two men in lab coats appeared at the edge of the flickering screen.
“H-Hyungnim, this is—”
“Shut up and watch,” said Eun-Ho.
“Y-yes, sir!”
「The experiment already failed. And you want us to do this again?」
「If you don’t like it, start your own lab.」
「Damn it... those arena bastards. The kid’s too young to be useful anyway.」
Arena?
The unfamiliar term made Eun-Ho’s ears perk up. He focused so hard it felt like he would fall into the screen itself.
“No. This came from above. Looks like the kid committed some big crime.”
At that moment, both Ayasa and the crow shouted at once.
“What the hell did he just say?! Who ordered this?!”
“An arena?! What were they planning to do to that child?!”
「Leaves a bad taste to the end. Damn it.」
「Stop complaining and clean up while you’re at it.」
Eun-Ho exhaled slowly and said carefully, “So it seems like there’s something called an arena, and this experiment was meant to create a player to send there.”
Ayasa trembled as she took another drag from her cigarette. The crow sagged, landing heavily on her shoulder. Eun-Ho kept thinking.
「The research ward is shut down. A senior researcher from the center will handle the cleanup. Transfer all management authority.」
The crow exploded. “That damned woman! She pretended to shut down the research to gain favor, and then turned that poor child into an experiment?!”
It flapped furiously from ceiling to floor, while Ayasa stood there in silence, smoking with a complicated expression.
“So you don’t know what this arena thing is either?” Eun-Ho asked.
“No, I’ve never heard of it.”
“Whatever it is, I’ll destroy it!”
The projection faded, leaving behind only a single word, arena.
There’s still something left.
Clink.
Eun-Ho lifted the orb again. “There has to be a reason this memory was left behind.”
[The client offers their heartfelt gratitude.]
[The client’s satisfaction has exceeded the required threshold.]
[Please check your additional rewards!]
Now, he began to doubt that the “client” was referring to Ayasa or the crow. He thought of the curly-haired child.
“I’m not letting this be buried,” Eun-Ho said firmly.
“What? If you don’t bury it, then—”
“If you can’t act,” Eun-Ho continued, “then I will.”
The child had been kept alive, hidden away, for a hundred years so no one could approach. Eun-Ho doubted the owner of this memory wanted those centuries to repeat.
“Let’s put it to use,” he said.
So that no death, not a single one, would be meaningless.