The next day.
I headed to the funeral site wearing the stiff fabric clothes brought by a Cheonma Church member last night, along with Soo-oh.
The location isn’t the main hall of Cheonma Church. The funeral is being held in a village that stretches west from the main hall of Cheonma Church.
One thing that worries me is that it’s been over a week since the heaven’s head, Gijacheon, has shown himself to me.
From the way he was acting, I thought he would contact me at least once…
Maybe he’s just shy or he might be too thoughtful.
Or maybe seeing the Cheonma crushed his heart.
Even if others get stronger during the harvesting period, I wonder if anyone can beat the Cheonma.
If there’s a strong desire to defeat the Cheonma, they might gain abilities that could make it possible, but everyone seems to be too old for a challenge.
How strong can they get by experimenting with their subordinates, right? If it’s for power, they should swallow poison if they have to.
Ultimately, by submitting to the Cheonma, it seems like expectations are low.
Lost in those thoughts, before I knew it, I arrived at the village where a white cloth stretched from house to house. Faintly, I could hear melancholic music from a distance. I guess I should head towards the sound.
“Choseol, what’s this?”
Soo-oh asked, looking around with a face that still seemed confused.
“It’s a decoration to honor the deceased.”
I swallowed the words about expressing authority. Even I know it’s a sign of incompetence to show a child the harsh realities and trauma of life.
It’s my failure to protect the children’s fantasies due to my lack of power. Anyone who thinks they must show the world must be foolish.
Bringing ruins as a blueprint of the future and expecting a different world, right?
Those who do this often blame the children for not following despite showing them reality.
Thinking that putting ruins in blueprints will yield spectacular buildings can only be expected from the unintelligent or from those wishing for a world like that.
But people are not devoid of intelligence, so there are only those who wish for a broken world. This way, they can exploit broken kids who don’t know what to do to get what they want, right?
I won’t do that.
Because even if I show the child a beautiful future, when those kids grow up, they won’t take my place from me.
Those who lack power fear that kids will grow up and take their place. Only such people will worry about their future and turn their own world into ruins.
Hehe.
I will see the high point.
It feels good to live however one wants during the harvesting period, to kill the obstacles, and they will send me warmth.
At one time, I imagined covering the entire world as a harvesting period, but I learned in the first world that it shouldn’t be that way.
So, to gain a lot of warmth, I need to create strong people.
If I can gain warmth from a deceased creature not with a gun or a knife, but with a bomb, I’ll need to make someone capable of pressing the nuclear bomb button during the harvesting period.
I can think of several ways to earn warmth.
But to reach that point, I have to overcome many obstacles.
Let’s tackle them step by step.
There’s plenty of time.
As I was thinking like that, I stood with Soo-oh at the place where the Cheonma Church member was standing.
Looking around, no one seemed to be mourning at all. Instead, they were whispering fingers of blame against the deceased Jeonyang.
It was good that the Cheonma’s mistress died from her cruelty.
Why are they holding such a funeral for a jerk like him?
Better dead than alive.
Those whispers were heard throughout the funeral.
Interestingly, no one was cursing the Cheonma.
Maybe the instinct to survive is still there, but I spotted people glancing at the Cheonma every time they cursed Jeonyang.
If that’s the case, it’s better not to curse at all.
I covered Soo-oh’s ears and moved forward.
With the Cheonma nearby, I thought bad words wouldn’t reach us.
So I pushed through the crowd toward the funeral site.
As I approached, the heads of each faction were standing there. In front of them was a Cheonma clad in pure white. His azure skin contrasted beautifully with his outfit.
Maybe it was because of the era or perhaps there was a slight yellow tinge left, but he stood out the most here.
In front of him, the Woljedang looked extremely busy in his formal attire, chanting his incantations for the deceased’s peace in the style of the Cheonma Church.
And I found out that the music I heard upon entering the village was coming from the sides of the flower-covered coffin. Several people in Woljedang outfits were playing instruments.
Brass, strings, and percussion harmonized together.
It turns out there’s music in this world too. You’d think they wouldn’t care, being overly focused on fighting.
At that moment, the Faded Man’s memory sparkled, stating that sound energy is fundamental.
No.
What’s with that obsession with martial arts?
Strictly speaking, there’s no guarantee that everything’s mixed together looks like the real world I know.
If that’s the case, the Cheonma should’ve died last time. And Guseongyong would take the Cheonma’s place and perish suddenly thereafter.
But that didn’t happen, right?
So, it’s not worth much.
I don’t understand why I have memories connected to the story of those who will collapse after mistaking their future knowledge.
I irritably suppressed the clumsy memories from the second world.
Together, Soo-oh and I stood quietly, watching the long funeral.
The final journey.
Since the Cheonma remembers the face of each person surrounding him, when our eyes met, I held Soo-oh’s hand and waved it.
Having made our mark, I felt like we’d done the least we could do.
Though most people were not fond of Jeonyang at this funeral, it didn’t feel too bad.
I guess this is the best funeral the Cheonma could arrange.
I poked Soo-oh, who was looking bored, to keep my place until the ceremony concluded. When the ceremony ended, people suddenly started moving somewhere.
Following their path, I saw people who looked like they were forced to come throwing fake money made of paper in front of Jeonyang’s coffin.
I guess it’s part of this world’s culture.
I worried since I had no money, but in the middle, they handed out some for the sake of participating.
So I just mimicked the front person and left the area resembling an incense offer.
It didn’t seem like they were serving meals here.
Should I just go back and have lunch-dinner?
While I was pondering like that, Soo-oh grabbed my clothes a few times.
“What’s wrong?”
Soo-oh pointed somewhere. I followed her gaze.
I saw a place selling food.
Although they called it food, it wasn’t actual meals, but a stand selling sliced fruits as snacks. Well, we had been standing since morning, way past lunch time, so I guess we must be hungry.
The problem, however, was that I had no currency.
Of course, I know the currency used in this world. But I don’t have any money on me at all.
“Give!”
Soo-oh was showing a cute temper tantrum and I should be happy about that.
Hmm.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any money.”
“Choseol is an amazing person, huh?”
Do I seem that way? But when people hit me, I just run away, or break glass bottles.
Thinking about the pleasure I get from breaking glass, I’d love to do it again.
But not yet, I can hold on.
If it continues for a few more times, I honestly feel like it might get dangerous.
I get the feeling that rather than painting a future, I might end up wanting to break the world for the present.
If someone finds out about my actions, I’m sure moving to another world would become even harder.
So I shouldn’t act in ways that would break the world. Even if it means being kicked out of here.
I can break the world with my weight. But if they don’t call me in that world, I can’t go there.
I have to look up from below the surface.
If I dumbly break the world to harvest warmth immediately, I’ll likely never rise back to it.
Just like I have been doing, I need to bear it, endure, and keep enduring.
If I deliberately amplify the feelings I’m experiencing right now to hold on…
Yes.
It’s incredibly embarrassing.
I have no money to buy something for the child! I’m sorry for being incompetent!
I gripped Soo-oh’s hand tightly.
“If I earn some money, I’ll buy it for you.”
Oh. Soo-oh’s face turned to one that looked like she might cry.
No, what do I do?
“Here, take it.”
I turned to see what was happening and noticed a man selling fruits, chuckling as he handed a small piece of fruit to Soo-oh.
“We can’t buy it.”
“It’s all good. Today seems to be a wash for sales anyway. No one’s buying fruits; it’s all about the drinks. If I leave these here, they’ll just go to waste, so eat up.”
He said that while glancing over at the funeral site.
Indeed.
Holding the funeral of someone who is happy to die feels bad, doesn’t it?
I got up from my spot. I bent over and held Soo-oh, who was happily putting sugary treats in her mouth.
“Thank you.”
“It’s okay. You’re sisters, right? I haven’t seen a face like yours around here.”
“I just started living up north not too long ago.”
At my words, the man’s expression stiffened.
“Up there? No one should be living there anymore then? And I’ve never seen kids like you from that village.”
I examined the man. Tanned from exposure to light, with deep scars on his arms and legs. His swollen feet and fingers were missing joints.
I could get a rough idea of his circumstance.
He’s someone from a marginalized class. By his speech, I could tell he must have been from that ruined village.
People trying to survive after losing something precious are valuable. I was going to put it off until later, but this is a good opportunity.
I pointed to his scars.
“Those are old scars, huh?”
“Uh? Yeah, right. That day, I survived.”
The man scratched his head uncomfortably as his other hand held a swollen joint. I looked at Soo-oh happily munching on the fruit.
Then, I said to the man.
There’s a rationale behind this.
What’s needed is an easily comprehensible approach.
“I’ve received goodwill. So, in return, I’ll give you a deal. If you want a better reality, answer my words.”
On the surface, it looks like it’s about returning goodwill with goodwill, but in reality, I’m not tying the man down with goodwill.
It’s quite the opposite. Those with goodwill often fall prey to malice, right?
“I will offer myself to you. In exchange, once you tie up all the loose ends, I want everything you’ve got when that time comes. How does that sound?”
The man blinked, looking at me as if he didn’t understand. When I extended my hand, he reluctantly shook it.
“Is it okay if I just say ‘yes’?”
Yes. That’s enough.
The man’s face cracked, and soon from within came forth white skin. His hair turned purple.
I raised my hand, making sure people around could see.
The fingers that had been missing before returned to the man’s hand.
“Yes. Congratulations on your recovery. This is a reward for the goodwill you’ve given me.”
What was received wasn’t goodwill but malice.
The man looked at me blankly before shyly pulling his hand back, touching it several times. After that, he confirmed that the other hand was clean again, and then he bowed his head to the ground in a kneeling position.
“Thank you, Celestial Maiden!”
Not just him, but others around me also bowed their heads. I smiled at them.
Hehe.
It’s time to expand my influence.
