episode_0032

Responding to Elia’s conversation, Attila sensed a familiar presence approaching from a distance. Glancing over, he saw Aiden and Ihayul coming through the darkness.

Attila scrutinized Aiden’s face and narrowed his eyes. The guy’s expression of apology seemed somewhat peculiar.

“…Did that bastard really apologize properly?”

Attila and Aiden had known each other for a while. They weren’t childhood friends, but they had built a certain level of camaraderie attending the same academy.

Therefore, Attila knew Aiden’s temperament well.

Aiden was foolish. Oblivious and impulsive, he did as he pleased without much thought. A prime example of a fool.

One could argue that he was kind in his own way, but fundamentally, his thoughts were fleeting.

Due to his nature, hadn’t he caused accidents before?

But last time, it seemed like he went beyond the limits of a typical mishap, almost to the point of suicide. Even now, his face turned cold at the memory of that day.

Ihayul, the special admission student.

When he challenged him to a duel, Attila felt his heart sink.

“Damn.”

He didn’t know much about what special admission entailed, but he was aware of the circumstances surrounding the special admission student who was the talk of the town.

Awakening just a month ago? It was an awakening so delayed that it was unheard of. Moreover, they said he was blind and mute.

Why pick a fight with someone like that? Thankfully, it ended roughly due to Aiden’s incompetence; otherwise, that idiot’s life would have become even more colorful.

He might not know everything, but something must have happened to the coldly staring Hong Yeon-hwa.

Later, shaking his head and asking for reasons while grabbing him by the hair, the response was absurd.

He was curious. Just how special was his admission that he wanted to see it for himself?

Crazy. Maybe he was just curious and took a stroll, but from an outsider’s perspective, it was nothing more than picking a fight… No, was it just picking a fight?

“Idiot…”

Challenging a blind person to a fight. And then losing so miserably…

That was the title bestowed upon Aiden by the friends he made after coming to Siyolam.

Idiot…

Attila shook his head. Upon reflection, he wondered if it wouldn’t have been considered suicide if he had died back then.

* * *

After finishing their magic experiment and returning, it was time to sleep.

Sleeping in the dungeon. Naturally, they couldn’t all peacefully doze off together.

Even though they were 4th graders, a dungeon was still a dungeon. Complacency was the shortcut to death, as Professor Artra emphasized repeatedly.

“Let’s draw lots for night watch duty fairly.”

Setting up one tent for the men and one for the women, Attila decided on the night watch order before going to bed.

There were five wooden sticks in a can of preserved food, each marked with a number indicating the order.

…I see them all. Attila seems to have misunderstood my spatial perception abilities.

Conscience aside, I drew lots. Isn’t it most comfortable to have the first and last shifts for night watch?

“Yes, first shift!”

“Damn it.”

The order was set.

Aiden drew the first lot and clenched his fist in delight, while Attila, next to him, muttered curses under his breath as he looked at the stick labeled ‘3.’

As time passed, Aiden, drawing the first lot, took his place beside the heating stove, while the rest entered their tents to sleep.

I was up next. Although I had to wake up soon, I closed my eyes inside the tent, trying to get some rest.

But sleep eluded me completely. My mind was inexplicably restless. Thanks to my enhanced spatial perception, I could feel the swaying of the leaves in the wind.

‘Ah.’

Instinctively, I felt that I wouldn’t be able to sleep at all.

.

.

.

“Ihayul. It’s time for the shift change.”

[Yes]

After Aidan finished his turn and opened the tent, he couldn’t fall asleep until dawn.

He crawled out of his caterpillar sleeping bag, feeling a heavy discomfort pressing against his body.

“No issues. I’m counting on you.”

[Yes]

He let go of the conversation with Aidan.

Whether it was when he needed to apologize or occasionally talk to him during dungeon conquests, Aidan always seemed out of place when speaking, so after apologizing, he told him to just speak comfortably since he couldn’t speak himself.

I didn’t feel the need for it since I couldn’t speak anyway.

Of course, even if I could speak, I probably wouldn’t bother.

I’ve realized in my life that there’s no one who is okay with informal speech. It’s easier and more respectful to respond politely without the hassle of using casual language.

He sat next to the heating magic stone.

In the center, the magic stone emitting light, makeshift chairs beside it, and the green tent installed right next to it.

It felt like a typical camping atmosphere.

There’s a culture of staring at the fire or campfire, but what lay in the center wasn’t logs burning but an egg-shaped magic stone.

A cool night breeze brushed past him. Despite wearing his Siyolam activity suit and a robe over it, the cold still seeped through.

“Ugh…”

Cold, chilliness. I hate it the most. Coolness is fine, but coldness is unbearable.

Rummaging through his backpack brought from the tent, he pulled out another heating magic stone identical to the one in the center.

– Click

As he pressed the button, the gray surface lit up with a faint orange hue. Feeling the warmth gradually increasing, he hugged the heating magic stone.

“Oh…”

It was smaller than my torso, egg-shaped, fitting perfectly in my embrace. The temperature was just right, not too hot.

He draped the robe forward over himself. Warmth trapped within the robe heated the air.

His shivering subsided. Flipping the hood attached to the robe made it even better.

Spontaneous admiration escaped him. It felt like lighting up a heated floor in the dead of winter and snuggling under a blanket.

“Sigh…”

No longer feeling cold, he rested his chin on the egg-shaped magic stone. As he did, a sense of lethargy washed over him, prompting him to take a deep breath.

Sleep didn’t come, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. He decided to pass the time like this until he felt like going back in.

– Amidst the petty jealousy…

“…”

Perhaps due to nerves, the memory kept resurfacing. He narrowed his eyes. Jealousy—a feeling he’d rather not remember.

Back in his childhood home.

For me, home was the world. Parents were gods who created me, while the occasional thugs who came to the house causing trouble were external threats.

Those so-called parents lacked the qualifications of being parents. Biologically, they could produce offspring, but from a moral perspective, they were trash.

I didn’t realize this as a child. To me, the world was my home. Everyone around me was the same. They were all violent, abusive. Shouting and crying were daily occurrences in the neighborhood.

So, I thought that was normal.

I believed my parents were normal, and I was abnormal. Being hit by my parents felt unfair and painful, but I had no choice but to accept it.

Their inability to control their anger, lashing out at their children, grabbing them by the hair and swinging them around, throwing bottles in frustration, kicking when upset.

I thought all of that was normal.

When the fire broke out and my parents perished, I wandered the slums. Looking back, it was a time of uncertainty.

Lost, I was eventually found by some people and taken to an orphanage.

Even there, I didn’t understand the norms of normalcy. Most kids around me were parentless like me, having experienced parental abuse.

I was the same. That’s why everyone thought I was like them.

By chance.

I had been to the city once. I couldn’t remember the reason well.

There were people. People like me. They had two legs. There were no burns, but they had two arms. Unlike me, their vision wasn’t blurry, but they also had two eyes.

They spoke better than me, but they had mouths, noses to breathe, ears to hear.

They were identical.

– Hey, going for a second round?

– If you buy, I’m in.

– Don’t you remember eating beef last time?

It was different. There were no shouts or cries. No sad sighs. Occasionally, there were curses, but they carried more playfulness and warmth rather than negative emotions like parents.

– Dad! That! That’s what I said!

– Yeah yeah. I understand, so let’s go slowly, okay?

– Faster!

We were different. A child, who seemed like my own, held the parent’s hand. Instead of getting angry or hitting, the parent gently guided the child along.

I stared blankly at the street for a while. It was snowing. Maybe it was Christmas? Or Christmas Eve.

As I stood there with snow piling on my head, a stranger approached and asked if I was lost.

Shaking my head, I remembered returning to the orphanage.

That was when it started.

Everything felt unsatisfactory. I sensed discontent everywhere. It felt irrational. I had been dissatisfied before, but it wasn’t as intense as then.

It was normal. Everyone was unhappy. Everyone was like me. Children around me had no parents, suffered abuse, poverty, hunger; everyone was like that.

But not everyone was like that. Many were similar to me, yet many were happier than me.

My parents and the parents led by that child were different.

– What’s different?

Jealousy.

– Why is she different? What makes her so special?

Envying and resenting others.

– What did I do wrong?

It was a bad feeling. Envying others only made me miserable. Why is she happy while I’m not? Why does that child smile so happily while I’m so miserable?

It was petty. Envying others brought me nothing. The more I compared myself to others, the more miserable I became.

I grew more miserable. I didn’t want to live knowing that my circumstances were so different just because I was born wrong. Everything seemed meaningless.

But I didn’t want to end up like cowardly parents who burned to death.

If I kept on being jealous, I felt like I would truly die from it.

I wasn’t the kind of person to turn jealousy into positive motivation.

So I didn’t look up. I didn’t have the confidence to rise above. I looked down. People less fortunate than me… or rather, people even more unhappy than me.

Upon closer inspection, there were as many people happier than me as there were unhappier.

Disgustingly, I found solace in that. I’m not the worst, I’m relatively happy, I thought with a sickening sense of relief.

‘……’

I was despicable and disgusting. Sometimes, I even wondered if there was a reason my parents treated me that way.

I hugged the blanket tightly. It made me slightly breathless, but it calmed me psychologically. I curled up quietly. In case someone saw, I adjusted my robe.

The confrontation with Aidan wasn’t unpleasant. The apology itself wasn’t unpleasant. I didn’t even consider it an occasion for apologizing.

But due to the apology revolving around jealousy, some uncomfortable feelings arose.

I had to accept the apology.

Despite lasting only an hour or two, it felt too long.

[“Alright! Down it goes! Huh? Seriously? Can’t even handle a glass this size in one shot? Disappointing~ Your performance doesn’t match your antics! Hmph.”]

Hmph.

Why was she so amusingly ridiculous? Liana pounded the table. The liquid in the glass sloshed around. She was the epitome of a drunkard.

Near the glass filled with alcohol, empty bottles that had been drained of their contents lay in abundance.

The air was thick with the stench of alcohol, enough to make one’s nose crooked.

“Sigh…”

She should have just ignored it. It wasn’t about accepting defeat with a single gulp in mind.

Atra regretted belatedly.