The Cheonma opened his mouth.
“What’s Soo-oh going to do?”
Is he worried about her? They’ve gotten really close, so I guess he doesn’t want to part ways?
“I’m going to impose freedom on Soo-oh. People shouldn’t be bound to anyone. They should live freely, doing what they want.”
At that, the Cheonma furrows his brow.
“Abandoning her?”
“No, speak clearly. This is independence.”
Everyone eventually comes to the moment where they must stand as their own person. If you miss this moment, the light dims and the warmth decreases.
Therefore, I hope people can enjoy all freedoms.
Just like Oh Myeong-seong, who’s currently killing anyone rushing at him, claiming to be a hero of the Murim.
His light is stained violet but massive, and his warmth is abundant.
And he gives off even more warmth than he possesses.
“Even if reality doesn’t allow it, I believe a world where everyone can live freely will come, so Soo-oh must also become free.”
I told the Cheonma what I desired.
“People should express themselves freely, love one another, create what they want, and pursue their desires.”
So I rise beyond the sky. Not with people standing above people, but with people standing above numbers.
Even if people die for reasons other than lifespan, it becomes merely a change in numbers.
I can gain more warmth.
I don’t just believe that such a world will come; I know it will come. This can happen when everyone pursues their own freedom while infringing on each other’s freedom, and taking away the power to be free.
There’s no right or wrong here. It’s pure survival competition. Just do what has always been done in nature.
“What does that have to do with you going out?”
He isn’t swayed by my words.
“There is a connection. If I share myself, people will become a little freer. Hey, Cheonma, do you like your current body?”
At my words, the Cheonma looks down at himself.
A woman in her early twenties.
The appearance of a man in his mid-thirties is nowhere to be found. I didn’t know if one becomes free even from gender during the harvesting period, but it must be a similar process.
“I don’t like the skin color. It doesn’t look human.”
“People who have suffered fatal injuries become like that. Be glad you survived.”
The Cheonma agreed with my words. Back then, he was almost a corpse. If I recall correctly, his limbs were almost torn off, and his insides had burst; he was truly on the brink of death.
“You don’t know your own strength, do you?”
“I don’t. Didn’t you say I was human? I’m just fumbling in the dark, trying to figure myself out.”
But the Cheonma raises his arm, resting his chin on it and looking at me.
“Were you really human? The way you talk sometimes gives me the chills. It feels like something not human is pretending to be human.”
We’ve talked a lot over the past year. Most of the topics revolved around Soo-oh, but we didn’t avoid all small talk either.
“Right now, you’re just a monster.”
“A monster, huh?”
The Cheonma also twists his words without making a choice.
If he doesn’t want to take Soo-oh, he could just let me take her.
Or is he pondering how to dispose of me?
She looked at me using senses I can’t perceive. And she understood me in her own way and spat it out.
Until now, she kept me alive because of Soo-oh, but she might think she can’t just let a dangerous monster roam around.
Currently, the Cheonma is running the Cheonma Church well.
People usually wield swords to protect what they have, even if it’s not right.
Will the Cheonma do the same?
He remained silent for quite a while.
And then he spoke softly.
“Don’t go.”
It was a very faint whisper. But it startled me.
Huh?
Wait, what did the Cheonma just say?
Don’t go? Why does that sound like a plea? If you want to say I can’t go, or go ahead and do what you want, I’d understand.
But now he’s asking me?
As I looked at the Cheonma’s face, I noticed his skin color had slightly changed. Almost like he was embarrassed.
Wait a minute. So, the Cheonma is embarrassed by what he just said? He doesn’t want me to disappear? Does he really feel attached to me?
No. What is this?
Isn’t it just a little bit of affection since I’m an accessory to Soo-oh?
A faded memory shines brightly. In a world filled with only gray, a man chuckles at a ridiculous sight. What matters isn’t what he’s laughing at but the laughter itself glowing brightly.
And then that memory gradually loses its light and fades away. It sank back into the depths where memories reside.
“That’s a really silly thing to say, Cheonma. I’m not calling you by name, we’re not close, I’m just Soo-oh’s extra.”
Why are you saying things like that?
The Cheonma opened his eyes wide. Then his eyes narrowed.
He’s smiling.
“Just seeing you flustered makes it worth saying out loud.”
The Cheonma said that and turned his gaze forward. I looked with her gaze, but it was drifting in the air. She wasn’t looking at anything; she was gazing into the past.
“I won’t tell you yet. Wait for four years. Four years.”
Suddenly, the Cheonma drew a line.
Four years.
That’s long.
But it’s also a short time. In the first world, I waited over 80 years.
“Then I’ll share myself with the people.”
At my words, the Cheonma chuckled.
“Go ahead. The Cheonma Church. A place where everyone can use the Cheonma Martial Art. That’ll be fun.”
Everyone using the Cheonma Martial Art?
Ah, right. The Cheonma knows that I know the Cheonma Martial Art. It seems he mistakenly thinks it’s Eunjae’s technique, but I have the memories from the harvesting period.
“I’m fine with it. But won’t that shake your position?”
“We already have Gapjae, Byeongil, and that guy Jungjae-woo. The Cheonma Martial Art has a unique energy that can’t be missed.”
Jungjae-woo is the name of the Lord of the Heavenly Palace. I’m sure I’ve met his gaze. But I thought he just passed by and didn’t realize he remembered.
This is why attention is uncomfortable. It’s hard to tell if I clearly perceived it after meeting their eyes or just glazed over it.
Moreover, if it’s energy, that’s a sensation I don’t recognize.
“Can I also feel this energy?”
If he’s exuding such energy, I’ll need to be more cautious in the future. To prepare for danger, I asked the Cheonma.
“No.”
The Cheonma answered shortly. Then he lowered his hand from his chin and turned to me.
“I don’t feel anything. You’re not a force extracted from a principle; you are the principle itself.”
Before, the Cheonma said I was something like annihilation.
So I’m just a monster on the opposite side of Qi, unable to be used.
“Wasn’t the Cheonma aware when he touched me back then?”
“Have you ever tried to pull off lint from your clothes only to have the thread unravel and your outfit fall apart?”
In the faded memory, I nodded.
“Yes.”
“You were the hand. When I inserted the Qi, the hand held and pulled, and my Qi itself got sucked in. If I hadn’t let go then, I would have been empty and dead.”
I thought of the Heupsung Grand Law used by Oh Myeong-seong and Guseongyong. But a corpse sucked in Qi by the Heupsung Grand Law shrivels up. Isn’t it slightly different?
“You shivered from the cold, didn’t you?”
“I did. I never want to feel that again.”
Then the Cheonma looked at me with eyes slightly filled with fear.
“With just the cold I felt from your fingertips, I felt that way. The warmth you desire is to bury that cold, right? On the day I first asked you for your purpose, you said you’d do anything for warmth. So when you say you’re dividing yourself, it must surely be to gain warmth.”
Then the Cheonma struck the truth.
This is why I dislike smart people.
It would be nice if everyone were foolish.
No, that wouldn’t be strange either.
“But still, you say not to go?”
Shouldn’t a person stay away from fear?
At my question, the Cheonma smiled bitterly.
Then he raised a finger, pointing at the yard or the house, recounting the things I, Soo-oh, and the Cheonma had done one by one.
Last winter, when we played making snowmen in the yard.
This spring, playing by the water’s edge below the cliff, skipping stones.
Not long ago, building sandcastles at the sandy beach down there.
Plus a few other trivial incidents.
They serve as bastions of memory for Soo-oh, intensifying the chances of her clenching her teeth, and are moments for the Cheonma and Soo-oh to feel affection for each other.
Of course, I was there in between, but I wasn’t part of that moment.
I had let them play, telling them to enjoy each other.
“Why is that?”
At my question, the Cheonma chuckled. It was a laugh more like a child bursting with joy than a feminine or masculine sound.
“No matter what you are, what plans you make, or what you do, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
Then the Cheonma sat on the floor, looking straight at me.
“Since I’ve received a treasure that shouldn’t exist, it shall be yours until the day its light fades.”
That was the utmost courtesy he could offer as an individual.
“That’s really foolish. You know that, right?”
“I know. So what? Among those who would blame me for being foolish, has anyone ever handed me a treasure? I’m already satisfied. No, I’ve become content with this.”
The faded memory flickers subtly. It’s a deep lament. Was this what cooperation was—such a foolish thing?
That’s what I had yearned for, so why is it like this?
I was about to say something when I lifted my heart, which was torn to shreds by the cold, leaving no remnants.
It was empty.
Nothing was there, but it whispers as if something were.
A memory spanning from the faded past through the first world to the second points to one word.
“Friend?”
“Yeah. I like that.”
The Cheonma smiled like an innocent child.
And at the same time, an old woman in a corner of memory bowed her head.
I couldn’t open my mouth.
