episode_0348

“Any chance you’d consider joining [Cheoncheon Sword Clan]?”

Just moments ago, Eunha had wandered the laboratory halls searching for the “Director.”

But after finding nothing of note, she returned to where the others were—only to receive that very proposal from Guildmaster Kim Hayang.

“Cheoncheon Sword Clan… You’re asking me to join your guild?”

“That’s right.”

Papers were strewn haphazardly across the laboratory floor.

“Flounder,” who had rushed at Eunha thinking she was a ghost, now had his face buried in her chest. She patted his head reassuringly while locking eyes with Kim Hayang.

A sudden guild invitation.

And not just any guild—[Cheoncheon Sword Clan], one of the nation’s top four guilds.

It felt like getting a driver’s license just to drive a car, only to be scouted as a chauffeur for a corporate CEO.

For Eunha, who just wanted to be “a regular Hunter,” it was downright baffling.

‘Why me… [Cheoncheon Sword Clan] is the guild that stops monsters coming from the northern border. Someone like me, with these marshmallow fists, would be useless there.’

She never expected a battle-hardened guild, led by someone as dense as its leader, to take an interest in her.

With dubious eyes, Eunha glanced around the lab—anything to avoid meeting Kim Hayang’s gaze.

“……Thank you for the offer, but I—”

“Do you dislike [Cheoncheon Sword Clan]?”

“Not dislike, just… confused. It’s a combat guild, right? I’ve heard they’re selective because of how dangerous it is.”

Plop.

Eunha instinctively pulled “Flounder” into a tight hug.

Maybe it was because Bangul, the cat from the café, kept jumping into her arms at every chance, but she’d developed a habit of hugging anyone who got close enough.

“Flounder,” still suffocating in her embrace, weakly tapped her chest, but she paid no mind.

“……Do you dislike it?”

“No, not dislike.”

“Then will you join [Cheoncheon Sword Clan]?”

“Wow. You don’t use your brain, so talking to you is impossible.”

Though uncertain, it seemed Kim Hayang truly wanted Eunha in her guild.

“Do I look like someone who’s good at fighting?”

“No. You stumble a lot because you can’t see your own feet and your center of gravity’s always forward.”

“Then why would you—”

“I didn’t look.”

Was this a joke?

Or was she picking a fight?

Just as Eunha thought the conversation would never end,

Kim Hayang, having placed the scattered documents back on the desk, rolled her chair around and sat facing Eunha.

Brushing off her pristine white dobok, she fixed her gaze on Eunha.

“Miss Eunha.”

“Behind you.”

“Is that so?”

Squeak.

Kim Hayang spun her chair around to face Eunha properly.

“Miss Eunha. As you know, I can’t see ahead. I only sense mana and sound to navigate.”

“……Yeah, I know.”

“That’s why I hate cars. Feels like being trapped in a moving box with no way out.”

And then came the next words.

Eunha remembered—when they were first brought here during the kidnapping frenzy.

Though Supreme Overseer had driven initially, Eunha herself had taken the wheel to race them to the [Facility].

What expression had Kim Hayang worn then?

She hadn’t noticed. There hadn’t been time.

“I trusted the people you brought with you—and I trusted you, Miss Eunha. That’s why I sat in the back. You helped our Saran and Jjong, after all.”

“……”

“I believe the ideal guild member is someone I can entrust my life to. That’s why I want you in [Cheoncheon Sword Clan].”

A guild needed more than just combatants.

Saran would probably be happy if Eunha joined too.

(Basement Floor 7, the day everything burned. The ‘Director’ was stabbed to death.)

(……How could you, Miss Eunha…?)

(I saw it with my own eyes.)

And above all—

She wanted to do something for Eunha.

As an adult, for a woman who had lived wounded in places no one knew.

To become someone she could lean on.

‘Even if it’s shameless of me—me, who made Saran lonely under the excuse of work… Still.’

……Long ago, so long ago,

If only she hadn’t given up chasing those orphanage sponsors… the “Director”…

Would things have been different?

Kim Hayang wondered.

“……”

“Sorry for bringing this up now. If I don’t say it when I think of it, I’ll forget.”

Honest kindness, sharp as a blade.

Eunha squeezed “Flounder” tighter in her arms.

A faint “Urk… uurgh,” and soon, “Flounder” went limp against her.

“……”

The untimely guild invitation carried an unexpected warmth.

Maybe it was just meant to ease the suffocating feeling of being trapped in the [Facility].

Unlike Unbangul or Ban Harin,

This was the goodwill of an “adult” she could rely on.

……To Eunha, it felt strangely unfamiliar.

“…I’ll think about it.”

“Good. Sorry for springing this on you. I should get back to what I was doing… Wait, what was I doing?”

And then,

“Take your time. [Cheoncheon Sword Clan] is like family—you won’t feel alone.”

“……”

As she recalled the adults from her memories—

Fragments she couldn’t quite grasp—

Her own “family.”

With a smile, she muttered,

“A family-like guild… doesn’t sound too great.”

…….

…….

After receiving Kim Hayang’s offer,

Eunha left to resume her halted task in the hallway.

The task? Finding and sawing the “Director.”

For some reason, she woke the unconscious “Flounder” and walked the lab halls with Kim Hayang instead.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“The reason I survived this long was to meet you, Eunha.”

Buried in Eunha’s soft chest, “Flounder”—who’d passed out from lack of oxygen earlier—now followed her with unprecedented cooperation.

Must’ve lost his mind from being locked in the [Facility] too long.

I’ll be nice until we call the [Oblivion Saintess].

Positive as ever, Eunha occasionally squeezed “Flounder” tight to cheer him up.

“Where’d the Director go?”

“That way! I saw it clearly!”

Following Kim Saran’s testimony after spotting the “Director” in the hallway,

Eunha walked past the sight of Saran petting the yapping Jjong while handing documents to her mother—but no time to dwell.

Eunha toyed with the old handsaw as she moved forward.

‘What I should do… Dunno. Keep it simple.’

Too much to think about.

Summarizing the situation:

The [Facility], originally visited to negotiate with the Potion Workshop, was now overrun with ghosts.

The guide’s rule—”Do not leave”—trapped them inside.

Eventually, the Potion Workshop would come searching for Eunha, kidnapped as she was.

‘I trust Mother Kim Hayang to handle the Potion Workshop side, but…’

And now, the orphanage’s “Director” had revived as a ghost, troubling Eunha further.

Overwhelmed, she felt lost on how to resolve this mess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4. Leave behind ■◇◇■.

– Do not leave.

– Keep the memories.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So Eunha simplified things.

First, catch the “Director.”

The memories trapped in the basement.

Probably, the rule “Do not leave” stemmed from the Director’s lingering grudge.

So if she made the “Director” break its own rules…

If she forced their way out of this [Facility]…

Wouldn’t most problems solve themselves?

(You’re a worthless human.)

(Nothing you do will ever change anything.)

Thinking positively…

Maybe getting sawed by a worthless marshmallow fist would knock some sense into it.

Eunha had deep personal grievances against the “Director.”

Creak.

Down the white hallway.

Display stands holding potions lined the walls.

Next to them, noticeboards with the “Guide.”

Screech.

Eunha tore free every “Guide” she saw, stuffed them into her rolling suitcase, and hurried on.

Dragging the handsaw against innocent potion stands, she roamed the [Facility].

‘Why’s no one here? Wasn’t the “Director” looking for me?’

Creak… creak.

But no sign of the “Director.”

Where was everyone? The survivors from the cafeteria had vanished sometime earlier.

Alone in the white halls, handsaw in hand—

She wanted to cut something to feel at ease.

Clunk.

She shoved open random lab doors.

No signs of life.

“…Not here.”

Disappointing.

Anything worth sawing?

Hoping her first encounter wouldn’t be human, Eunha pressed onward.

“…Should I just summon a ghost?”

Her conclusion:

Deliberately break the rules to call one.

If they wouldn’t show, she’d make them come.

They’d have to appear to enforce the “rules.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1. Do not run.

– You’ve probably heard this often. Maybe at school?

– We’re always in a rush, but the first step to manners is composure.

– Do not run in halls or on stairs.

– You might trip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roaming the white halls alone—

Like being locked in a psychiatric ward’s solitary cell.

‘Did I separate from Mother Kim Hayang for nothing?’

‘Sigh. I hate pain, but no choice.’

She felt capable of anything now.

Eunha decided to test the waters by breaking the easiest “rule.”

Tap!

She halted and lightly stomped the ground.

Channeling the thrill of running through school halls during breaks.

Tap! Thud!

One step. Two steps.

Thud!

Instantly, a hand shot from the floor, gripping her ankle.

“Oof.”

『Do not run.』

“Hey there!”

Crash!

It happened in a blink.

Eunha fell forward, smashing her head into a potion display stand.

Clang!

Glass shattered.

Razor-sharp shards.

Unreasonably persistent inertia.

Crunch!

And then—

Onto the display stand, littered with jagged fragments,

Eunha tumbled.

…….

…….

“…Huuuurk!”

Luckily, she didn’t die.

Or was that unlucky?

Lately, she missed the [Black Figure] she hadn’t seen in a while.

Thud.

Pulling her head free from the wreckage, Eunha exhaled sharply.

The shattered glass display was now stained with her blood.

Just a few light jumps, yet the result was anything but light.

Resolving to sternly warn others against running, Eunha—still smiling—pulled a glass shard embedded in her neck.

Blood gushed from torn skin but stopped within seconds.

“Whew…”

『Do not run.』

Wincing, Eunha wiped her throbbing face and

Turned to face the something clutching her ankle.

Clang!

A potion, nudged by Eunha’s ample chest, fell and shattered on the floor.

『Do not run.』

The ghost she’d summoned by breaking the rules.

What held her ankle was a girl no older than ten.

A patchwork dress.

Sunken cheeks, like she hadn’t eaten in days.

Frail, branch-like fingers gripping her.

The girl sat crouched on the cold floor.

Finally, someone (?) she could talk to.

Eunha wiped the blood off her face to meet the “girl” at eye level.

Hey there, kid.

“…Cough!”

Instead of words, blood and glass shards sprayed out.

The “girl” flinched, and Eunha hastily wiped her mouth with her sleeve.

Voice malfunction.

“Urk! Cough!… Hey kid. Don’t grab ankles of people running—you’ll give them a heart attack. Lucky it’s just me.”

『Running gets punished.』

After hacking twice more, Eunha spoke.

The “girl” stubbornly held on.

“I see… Who punishes you?”

『Scary person.』

“I think you’re scary.”

Eunha kept the absurd conversation going.

The emaciated girl’s lips twitched faintly as she watched Eunha.

Did she not realize she was the danger here?

But since she meant no harm, Eunha let it slide.

“……”

Creak.

The handsaw in her grip.

Eunha pointed it at the ghost before her.

The skeletal girl—pupils blown wide like a corpse’s—fixed Eunha with a hollow stare.

A child who should still be in elementary school.

What would happen if she sawed through that frail flesh?

……Would fear please it?

“……”

Crrk!

She didn’t ponder long.

Eunha swung the saw—into her own wrist instead.

A sharp pain cleared her mind.

Crk… crk…

Blood spilled from the exposed white bone, clotting within seconds.

‘Sigh… Every time I pull out this saw, I end up like this. Do I need to slash something to feel settled?’

Gripping her burning wrist, Eunha forced a smile.

If she had to saw something, better her own flesh than the little girl’s.

“Urgh…… Whew… Kid. Since we ruined first impressions anyway, mind if I ask? Seen the orphanage ‘Director’?”

『Director?』

“Someone in black nun robes.”

『Saw her.』

Luckily, summoning the ghost for intel worked.

Plan B was breaking “Do not leave” to lure the Director—but she’d rather not suffer its wrath.

Better another ghost hurt her instead.

Whoosh.

Then, the girl clutching her ankle—

Extended a bony finger toward a door labeled [Codebreaking Room].

Where the orphanage’s “Guide” had first been retrieved.

『That kid. Went to the basement. Basement’s there.』

“…Basement?”

『Orphanage basement.』

The reason she hadn’t found the “Director” anywhere in the [Facility].

The girl called the “Director” a kid and began explaining.

『Kids in the basement. Orphanage kids. Barely survived, got caught helping others.』

“……”

『Bad kid locked them there. Said they’d replace the missing Morning Star.』

Maybe her rule-breaking had loosened the ghost’s grudge.

The girl was unusually forthcoming.

‘Morning Star’?

Eunha’s head hurt.

More nonsense.

So the “Director” had trapped “half-formed things” in the basement, acting as her stand-in to settle grudges?

And those “half-formed things” couldn’t escape because of the “Do not leave” rule?

“So, the ‘Director’ is in the basement, right?”

Eunha kept it simple.

She knew the “Director’s” location. She had the saw.

Into the basement. End this.

This place existed solely to sever rotten ties.

Potion Workshop or orphanage—

Today, she’d cut all lingering threads.

“Thanks for the info.”

『Thank you too. See you, Morning Star.』

“Sure.”

The “girl” released her.

Eunha ruffled the girl’s hair, wiped the blood from her nape, and stood.

The ghost enforcing the “Do not run” rule—

Surprisingly tame. Not scary at all.

Limp. Limp.

As Eunha walked away,

The ghost waved goodbye, clutching the torn-off ankle it had ripped free.

Plop.

Left crouching silently on the floor,

The girl pressed Eunha’s severed ankle against its own—where sharp blades had once severed flesh.

……A shame.

If only it had one more ankle.

…….

Click.

At last, the [Codebreaking Room].

Eunha grabbed the doorknob.

Rattle. Rattle.

Locked from the inside.

Knock. Knock.

Like the [Red Lady].

“One. Two. Three…”

She tapped lightly, counting seconds.

Three minutes later, the bloodied Eunha yanked the knob again—and the locked door swung inward.

Creak… creak…

An empty office.

On its floor—

A familiar “basement” entrance yawned wide open, welcoming her.

“…A basement under a basement.”

The orphanage’s depths.

Forgotten but remembered now.

Creak. Creak.

The “Director” was here.

And once she descended and shut the door… the “Do not leave” rule would trap her inside.

“But who cares?”

Do not leave.

Irrelevant.

Eunha and the “Director.”

Only one would walk out alive.

Thud. Thud.

Eunha paused at the basement entrance.

Her body trembled, reliving memories—legs frozen stiff.

No matter.

Crrk!

She sawed her thigh.

Pain jolted muscles into motion.

Staggering forward, she stepped into the abyss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4. Leave behind ■◇◇■.

– Do not leave.

– Keep the memories.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Do not leave.

From outside into the [Facility],

From the [Facility] into the basement,

Down, down further,

Into the iron door where the selfless tree had been trapped.

To where dark grudges began.

She’d raze it all and leave unburdened.

Toward the deepest, darkest place.

That was Eunha’s interpretation of the “Facility Escape Guide.”

“I’m here, Director. How’ve you been without me?”

『…….』

“Let’s make this quick. I wanna go home and sleep.”

Finish this.

Back home. Where she belonged.

“Don’t think about leaving. You’re playing with me now.”

Crash!

Eunha threw herself into the gaping darkness.

Time to end this endless day.