Chapter 31 : Kang Yubin

She was crying.

In the arms of the person who saved me.

I was crying endlessly, trembling endlessly.

Looking at the cradle that had collapsed.

Recalling the happiness of the past, I cried endlessly.

Raindrops fell, touching my cheek.

I hugged the woman tighter, afraid that her warmth would fade away too quickly.

Afraid that the traces of this person would disappear from the world, I held her even more tightly.

“…I’ll grow up properly… I will…”

I muttered softly, staring into her hollow eyes, where the focus and light had disappeared.

That was her last request to me.

After that, I lived with a fierce will to survive.

I was moved to a new orphanage and, for a while, I refused to eat.

Fortunately, the orphanage director did her best to take care of me, despite my difficult behavior.

Many people came to adopt me, but I was never adopted.

“…Yubin, wouldn’t it be better to have a family?”

The director asked me with a worried expression.

“…I’m afraid of changing my last name…”

“Don’t hold on too much to the past.”

“…The past is what made me who I am now.”

Without that past, I might have died by now or ended up doing something bad somewhere.

It was because someone brought me to their orphanage, clothed me, fed me, and even wanted to adopt me that I was alive today.

That past was incredibly precious to me.

“…Then, I’ll respect your wishes, Yubin.”

“Thank you.”

When I bowed my head, the director smiled kindly and patted my head.

“Don’t you need to take your medicine?”

“…It’s okay. I don’t want this feeling to go away today.”

Of course, I had bipolar disorder, so I needed to take medication, but it was okay.

It was the trace that person left behind for me.

“Have sweet dreams, and if you have a nightmare, call me.”

“…Okay.”

That night, when I fell asleep without taking my medicine, I had a nightmare, as expected.

It was the nightmare of the day I lost her.

I hated this world so much, and the fact that only I survived at the hands of monsters made me feel disgusted.

No matter how much I hated the world, I was also tormented by the world that embraced me again.

I felt nauseous, and that night, I alternated between shallow sleep and vomiting until dawn.

That was a story from when my PTSD was at its worst.

Around the time I somewhat overcame my PTSD,I was diagnosed as an Awakened one.

“Are you really going to become a hunter?”

“I will.”

“…But you’re F-rank.”

“…”

The director, who had become like a mother to me, handed me a cup of tea with a worried look.

F-rank hunter.

I was at the bottom, so weak that surviving or even maintaining a livelihood was a struggle.

But despite that, I decided to become a hunter.

“…Because it’s the path my sister walked.”

Even though we weren’t blood-related, she was the one who took me in, clothed me, fed me, bathed me, and put me to sleep.

I wanted to follow her path.

Looking back now, it was completely insane.

If I wanted to do something good, I could have just become a police officer or a firefighter, as I had been diagnosed as an Awakened one.

But despite that, I, an F-rank, wanted to walk the path of an S-rank hunter.

It was madness, a thorny path that anyone could see.

But with a combination of mental illness and youthful naivety, I made up my mind to walk that path.

After all, I already had a mental illness, so I was crazy anyway.

So what?

It wouldn’t be so bad to try at least once.

“Wouldn’t it be better to just become a police officer…?”

“…Director, even if I die tomorrow, I have to try being a hunter.”

When I said that, the director opened her eyes wide and looked at me.

“…What is it? What is it that’s pushing you this far?”

“…I’m sorry.”

After bowing my head, I left the orphanage like I was running away and became a hunter.

Of course, I disappeared for about three months afterward, but out of guilt, I ended up contacting her first.

The director was so happy.

Anyway, after becoming a hunter, I moved out and became independent.

Even if life is full of misfortune, if you live diligently, there are people who reach out their hands to you.

The landlord couple of the place I rented were such people.

They said even an F-rank hunter worked hard, and whenever I got hurt, they handed me money for hospital bills and brought me side dishes, telling me not to starve because I was like a son to them.

There were even older hunters who worried about me every time I entered the tower.

If it weren’t for my sister, I probably wouldn’t have had the time to even discover these kinds of kindness and would’ve fallen into the pit of darkness.

That’s what I used to think.

Of course, regardless of the healing I received from people’s help.

“Ugh…!! Blegh!”

“Kid, are you okay?”

“…I-I’m fine…”

Tower life was hell itself.

A boy younger than me had just died after a goblin rushed him and stabbed a dagger in his throat.

It wasn’t something I should do in front of the dead, but my body didn’t listen because of nausea and PTSD, so I ended up vomiting.

He was an F-rank hunter.

Because we were the same rank, the thought that I too could die just as easily overwhelmed me.

I hadn’t fully recovered from my PTSD, so the psychological pain was intense, and the constant anxiety of not knowing when I might die drove me even more insane.

In fact, F-rank hunters like me died in droves even in the goblin towers.

There were days in the past when I deliberately didn’t take my medication.

But after becoming a hunter, I couldn’t live without it.

This too, I thought, was a punishment from God for failing to protect my sister.

And so, I gradually fell apart.

Time passed quickly, indifferent to my state.

My obsession with “goodness” grew worse, to the point of madness, as I began to slaughter monsters relentlessly.

From that point on, my PTSD inside the tower began to fade.

Somehow, I had learned how to cope—slaying goblins without hesitation.

But even when drenched in their red blood, I had to take long, deep breaths.

If I didn’t breathe slowly, I felt like the PTSD would come crashing down on me again.

When I would stop and freeze up like that, hunters who were close to me would stand guard and protect me.

I was incredibly thankful for them.

Then one day, while I was still struggling with my mental illness, my worsening obsession with goodness, and the gnawing question of whether I was doing the right thing.

“…Gahk…?!”

“An F-rank bastard!! Khahaha!!! You filthy worm dares to crawl into the tower?! Die like the scum you are!!”

“P-Please… spare m—Gahk!”

I witnessed a murder inside the tower, and that became the turning point of my life.

With each person I beat down, I felt a rush of catharsis.

Punishing Evil—the thrill of it—and for a brief moment, my obsession with being “good” disappeared.

I became addicted to that dopamine.

I picked only the most wicked people and dragged them down into the abyss.

I didn’t particularly feel guilty about it.

They were surely trash, like the ones who hurt my sister and made it look like suicide.

I believed they were Evils threatening the director, the landlord couple, and the hunters who helped me.

That’s what I told myself.

Looking back now… something inside me was broken.

Yeah, I.

Kang Yubin, was utterly, thoroughly insane.

“…….”

“…Did you help me?”

Before I knew it, the surrounding scenery that had been showing my past like a film had gone completely dark.

Only then could I finally face how I had changed.

My once dry and brittle hair had become silky.

My skin had turned porcelain-like, and my appearance had become stunningly beautiful.

Staring at myself, I asked the empty air,”Did you help me?”

[It was a transaction.]

Then, a status window appeared in the air.

“…A transaction?”

I couldn’t even begin to guess what it meant.

Before I could say, ‘I never made any deal with you,’ the status window answered first.

[Cheonho, a deal with your mother who created your current body.]

[…And my final desperate effort to protect Earth.]

What on Earth was it talking about?

None of it made any sense to me.

[You look completely lost, huh?]

[??? chuckles gleefully.]

[Doesn’t matter, you’ll figure it out eventually.]

[You can ask questions if you want.]

[Just don’t ask what you’re supposed to do yet. I’ll tell you later.]

That was exactly what I was most curious about.

It shut it down as if it read my mind.

With no choice, I asked something else instead.

“…My mind… did you fix it?”

Even if becoming mentally softer and more naïve wasn’t necessarily a good thing, it was still better than my previous life.

I asked the status window about that.

[I didn’t fix it. I’m just keeping you from spiraling into excessive overthinking.]

[I got your mom’s permission, so don’t worry.]

“…My mom?”

[You’ll find out eventually.]

There was a mischievous tone in the status window’s message.

‘…If I ask more, I feel like it’ll just ruin my mood.’

To be honest, I was already feeling pretty awful.

Not only had I just rewatched the trauma I had tried to forget, but my past wasn’t exactly filled with sunshine and rainbows either.

“I don’t have anything else to ask.”

[That’s not true, you have a lot.]

“…I don’t.”

[The status window giggles.]

[Alright. For now, just focus on overcoming your trauma.]

[You still have time, but the faster the better.]

[Make some new friends, have fun, and maybe you’ll finally heal from your chronic illness too.]

Just as the status window printed that message.

Crack!

White cracks started forming across the black space.

[Oh dear, looks like time’s up.]

“W-What’s happening?!”

[Don’t be scared, it’s just time to go.]

[It was fun meeting you.]

With that final message, I was forcibly ejected from that space and returned to reality.

* * *

“…M-Master?! Are you alright?”

“…Sword Ghost.”

When I opened my eyes again, a slight headache crept in.

And somehow, I had been transported back to the top floor.

I found myself lying on Sword Ghost’s thigh.

“…Did you take care of me? Thanks.”

“Y-You stumbled over here, suddenly lit a smoking pipe, took one puff, and then laid down on my thigh! I thought you were sick!”

“…?”

Looks like I’ll need to add sleepwalking to the list of my mental issues.