Chapter 41
Chapter 41. Oppa, Look Forward to Your Gift
On the evening prior to the phone call Minjun received from his mother, Yuna was passing a brief pause during her shift in the break room of her restaurant, restlessly tapping the screen of her mobile device.
“Could Minjun have simply forgotten to reach out?”
She remembered with certainty that she had handed him her calling card before they parted ways, explicitly asking him to get in touch later. Yet several suns had risen and set without a single whisper from his side. Factoring in their shared history, she had assumed he would at least drop a brief line to exchange pleasantries, if for no other reason than the sheer delight of their unexpected encounter.
From Yuna’s perspective, only a pair of plausible explanations existed for Minjun’s silence. It was possible he had misplaced her card and lacked the means to call, or otherwise…
His partner had forbidden him from doing so.
Yuna considered that second possibility far more probable.
‘What an excessively possessive woman.’
Having spent roughly half of her existence living across the Pacific in the United States, Yuna had naturally absorbed a Western perspective, which made such behavior utterly baffling to her. Back in America, it was an everyday occurrence for a committed man to socialize casually with female acquaintances, and nobody batted an eye when women did the exact same thing.
‘All I am asking for is to maintain our bond as childhood companions. Is even such a simple connection forbidden?’
Anyone clinging tightly to traditional conservative customs might scoff at the notion, accusing her of harboring inappropriate intentions.
To soothe the growing irritation in her chest, Yuna opened the media folder on her phone and began flipping through photographs preserved from their youthful days. The images traced their steps from their early years as child commercial models all the way to a particular snapshot where she was planting a kiss upon his cheek.
‘He truly was mercilessly oblivious.’
She had practically spelled out her affection, yet he had gone through all those years completely blind to her feelings.
In Yuna’s eyes, Minjun had always been hopelessly unperceptive when matters turned toward romantic interest. While examining the faded images with a conflicted expression, her thoughts drifted once more into contemplation. If her family had never packed up and crossed the ocean, it might very well have been her standing by Minjun’s side in the present, rather than Sia.
‘Is there really no angle I can play here?’
It had required such an agonizing stretch of time to cross paths with this strand of destiny once more. She was entirely unwilling to let it unravel without an effort.
While turning the dilemma over in her head, Yuna’s thoughts abruptly landed on her mother. Had she not recently mentioned that she was scheduled to land in Korea the day after tomorrow, hoping to visit her daughter, soothe a touch of homesickness, and remain in the country for a month or two?
‘Mother practically worshiped Minjun back then as well.’
More than two decades had slipped by, yet Yuna retained one vivid memory: her mother had playfully told Minjun that she intended to claim him as her future son-in-law. Even if intended as mere banter, her mother had cherished the boy enough to utter such a phrase. In those days, both households had frequently shared the burden of minding each other’s children whenever circumstances became hectic, so her mother would undeniably be eager to witness the sort of man Minjun had become.
‘…That could actually work.’
Even by her own standards, the scheme seemed remarkably sound. After arranging the sequence of actions within her mind, she mentally rehearsed how the scene would unfold.
‘Just wait a little longer, Minjun.’
The moment the strategy took solid shape, Yuna dialed her mother’s number without hesitation.
“Regarding my availability… I can’t say for certain just yet. Mom, something urgent just popped up on my end, so let me ring you back shortly.”
Hanging up the call in a rush, I immediately shifted my gaze to observe Sia’s reaction. I chose to suppress my sheer astonishment at the thought that dragons truly operate on another level entirely, knowing well that no ordinary mortal could have eavesdropped on a private receiver call without the speaker function engaged.
The pressing issue was that Sia had caught every single syllable without missing a beat.
[Oppa.]
Her tone was stripped of all warmth, and the biting frost radiating from her pupils caused an involuntary tremor to crawl up my spine the instant our eyes locked. It was an unnerving aura, a total departure from how Sia typically behaved.
When had I witnessed that specific demeanor from her previously?
Right. It had occurred not long after our initial reunion, right around the time she discovered some random woman had tried to pry my contact details from me. Sia had displayed the exact same demeanor then, right down to the arctic edge in her voice and that piercing, unblinking glare.
In plain terms, this was a crisis of the highest order.
[Did your mother just indicate that she expects you, that woman, and herself to gather around a table for a meal?]
Sia articulated each syllable deliberately, dividing her words with absolute precision. Chills rippled across my skin beneath the weight of that uncharacteristically rigid cadence.
“…Yes.”
Seeing as she had already overheard the entire conversation, attempting to distort the truth was utterly pointless.
[So, Oppa, do you plan on attending?]
…That stood as a profoundly hazardous inquiry to address.
The most sensible route seemed to be agreeing to the gathering while simultaneously reassuring Sia that I had no intention of maintaining any correspondence with Yuna noona once the dinner concluded. Yet that remained merely an imperfect compromise rather than a flawless resolution. Whether Sia would tolerate such an arrangement was an open question.
She might place her confidence in me, but she held zero faith in Yuna noona.
‘Damn it all. How am I supposed to navigate this?’
Concluding that absolute sincerity was my only viable path, I laid out my authentic sentiments directly to Sia.
“To be completely candid, the whole thing makes me uneasy, so I really have no desire to attend. However, Mom seems genuinely thrilled about the idea of seeing noona alongside me.”
I also offered a concise summary of how Yuna noona’s mother had frequently watched over me throughout my early childhood.
“Were it solely up to my personal preference, I’d decline without a second thought. I intend to do everything I can to persuade Mom to drop the matter, but… should circumstances force my hand, I promise I won’t allow anything you’re dreading to take place.”
I picked my words with utmost caution, refusing to tear my eyes away from Sia’s face for even a fraction of a second. Her expression showed no additional signs of souring, yet it was painfully obvious this was far from her preferred response, as she simply held her gaze on me with her lips pressed tightly together. That silent scrutiny only intensified the dread.
Perhaps my wisest course of action was to fabricate an excuse about overwhelming hunter responsibilities and dodge the entire affair altogether.
Just as that consideration crystallized, Sia broke the suffocating stillness at last.
[I suppose it isn’t the kind of gathering where I could reasonably accompany you.]
“Mm… that’s true. Though if it were possible, I’d take you along in a heartbeat.”
Another heavy silence settled between us before Sia spoke once more, projecting the air of someone who had just reached a grave conclusion.
[…It cannot be helped. You should go.]
“Are you certain?”
That answer caught me entirely off guard. Yet upon closer inspection, I noticed a slight tremor fluttering against Sia’s lips.
“…On second thought, it might really be wiser if I skip it.”
[No. Attend the meeting. I cannot permit myself to be the reason you and my future mother-in-law experience unnecessary friction. You mentioned that twenty whole years have passed since all of you last crossed paths.]
This time, the subtle quiver traveled beyond her lips, faintly coloring her voice as well.
[So do not worry about it, Oppa. I will return to my prior tasks. Make sure to rest properly.]
Before another syllable could escape my mouth, Sia disconnected the transmission. Though her words claimed she was unbothered, her visual state suggested she had never appeared more troubled.
A voice inside told me I ought to call her straight back, yet giving her a moment of space to assemble her emotions seemed like the more prudent decision.
“Haa…”
A heavy, vexed breath escaped my chest. An ominous intuition gnawed at me. That noona was undoubtedly pulling strings behind the scenes.
Even while consumed by those lingering anxieties, I managed to finish off the medicinal porridge Sia had prepared for my recovery, and just as I set the empty bowl aside, Rokan arrived to check on me.
“How fares your physical condition?”
Rokan settled himself against the side of the mattress, running an assessing eye over my state.
“Fatigue still lingers and my limbs feel rather sluggish, but I don’t believe anything is critically damaged.”
“Even with that being the case, do not entertain any thoughts of pushing past your limits.”
Even if the urge to move about struck me, accomplishing much was out of the question without a blade in my grasp anyway.
Now that the thought surfaced, what had become of the Dragon Bone Sword I had entrusted to his care previously?
“Ah, Rokan. Forgive me if this comes across as impatient, but… how is the restoration of the blade proceeding?”
“The weapon? I shall apply my utmost efforts, yet it will likely never recapture its former perfection.”
Reaching out toward empty space, Rokan materialized the fractured Dragon Bone Sword I had handed over the previous day, laying the weapon before me. The steel retained the exact fractured state it had borne upon our initial handover.
“Throughout the long passage of years, I have encountered countless Dragon Bone Swords, yet never once have I witnessed one subjected to ruin this catastrophic.”
“Never once…?”
“Indeed.”
According to Rokan’s explanation, Dragon Bone Swords possessed far greater structural resilience than I had ever credited them with. Even should draconic entities deliberately endeavor to shatter one, inflicting damage of this magnitude would prove extraordinarily difficult. Furthermore, considering his assertion that the surface cracks only revealed part of the devastation, its internal structure was evidently compromised to a alarming degree.
“Could the collapse have stemmed from clashing against the emperor’s sword…?”
“I would not claim that impact had no bearing whatsoever, yet it hardly serves as the primary catalyst. In my estimation, the direct origin was almost certainly an extreme surge of power that drastically outstripped what the sword could sustain.”
“A power surge?”
“Dragon Tongue.”
Perceiving my bewildered expression, Rokan expanded upon the concept. To put it simply, while confined within that isolated territory, I had instinctively drained every residual drop of latent force dwelling within the metal to unleash the Dragon Tongue. That act had forcibly elevated the draconic resonance sleeping inside the blade to its absolute threshold, though the devastating consequence was this irreversible deterioration.
“The process parallels how your own physical vessel was reduced to utter wreckage following the invocation of that authority.”
Rokan clarified that while he could not offer absolute certainty, this deductions held the highest likelihood of truth. It equally illuminated why I had lingered in an unresponsive stupor for three continuous days and had yet to reclaim my baseline vigor; both outcomes were foreseeable repercussions of invoking the Dragon Tongue before my vessel had matured sufficiently to bear it.
“So… my success in invoking the Dragon Tongue occurred purely because every external factor aligned without error and an entire chain of flukes coincided?”
“Precisely. Furthermore, I suspect the surrounding atmosphere within that domain played its own role as an additional catalyst.”
Hearing the truth laid out so bluntly left me feeling somewhat hollow inside. To rephrase his point, the era where I could wield the Dragon Tongue autonomously without relying on extraordinary environmental variables remained distant on the horizon.
“Nonetheless, you performed admirably. Regardless of what fortune paved the way, the sheer reality that you commanded the Dragon Tongue even a solitary time carries profound significance.”
Above all else, Rokan expressed profound relief simply because I had managed to return from the brink breathing.
“I only share this in hindsight, but the moment Shasha discovered you had become trapped beyond the gate, her consciousness deserted her entirely on the spot.”
“…Ah.”
The realization that she had truly collapsed from shock carved a dull ache into my heart as the visual formed in my thoughts. Had my return dragged out over a prolonged period, or had I vanished from the world permanently, Sia would have undoubtedly…
…The thought was too horrifying to even entertain.
A wave of unnecessary remorse washed over me for heaping such distress onto both Sia and Rokan. As I sat in quiet contemplation over the agony Sia must have endured, Rokan abruptly drew me into a steadying, affectionate embrace.
“Had you chosen surrender instead of fighting back with every shred of your being, Shasha would have felt her entire world crumble into nothingness. From that perspective, I offer my gratitude. And I hold immense pride in you.”
He offered a comforting pat against my back before stowing the fractured weapon back within his dimensional storage.
“I plan to pay a visit to the domain you described before much time elapses.”
“That specific dungeon falls under the jurisdiction of an established guild, so…”
The words, ‘You likely won’t be granted access without formal clearance,’ almost left my mouth, yet the utter redundancy of such a thought registered immediately. What barrier on this earth could realistically impede a dragon of Rokan’s caliber?
“…Disregard that. A thoughtless comment on my part.”
“Regardless, visiting that realm may yield an additional thread regarding the awakening and regulation of your latent authority.”
With those parting remarks, Rokan set down an additional restorative vial beside my pillow, matching his gesture from yesterday, before temporarily excusing himself from the room.
Left in isolation, I emptied the vial’s contents down my throat in a single motion, fixing my gaze on the darkened display ahead—the identical screen that had hosted my prolonged video session with Sia prior to Rokan’s arrival.
‘…Will Sia truly be all right?’
Though I desperately hoped my instincts were mistaken, Sia appeared to be gripped by immense distress. A profound sorrow settled over me for having provoked her heartache through such an absurd complication, and that remorse rapidly transformed into simmering exasperation toward Yuna noona.
‘What on earth is that noona thinking…’
If no response comes your way, you ought to grasp the lack of interest.
What justification is there for going to such lengths just to orchestrate this entire spectacle?
The second the call with Minjun severed, Sia remained motionless, staring blankly ahead at the dark glass of the terminal with a vacant gaze.
‘That woman deliberately engineered this entire scheme.’
Having received silence from Minjun after providing her contact details, that woman must have plotted an alternate avenue to reestablish ties at any cost. By manufacturing a predicament where she and Minjun had no alternative but to share space once more, she aimed to exploit that wedge to steadily encroach upon his perimeter.
In truth, Sia’s deduction mirrored the reality almost without flaw.
‘She played her cards cleverly.’
Instructing Minjun to boycott the gathering under these exact circumstances would only cast her as an irrational, petulant partner, and that realization stoked her fury to a boil. She could clearly perceive the delicate care Minjun was exercising to keep her from unraveling, just as she could perceive the desperate maneuvers that woman was executing to forge an unbreakable link to him.
It was never a matter of distrusting Minjun.
Rather, she possessed no way of predicting what underhanded stunt that woman would attempt down the line.
What measures could she possibly enact to ensure that wretched woman would never dare linger around Minjun’s orbit again?
As mounting unease began to gnaw at her insides, Sia’s outward composure gradually fractured. Seeking to steady her wavering breath, she inhaled deeply, retrieved the fragment of her very own skeletal structure she had set aside for the Dragon Bone Sword, and resumed refining its contours with even sharper concentration.
For the immediate moment, she would place her faith in Minjun. Once the gathering concluded, she could extract every detail of how that person named Yuna had attempted to advance upon him, allowing her to formulate an airtight counterstrategy.
No degree of agonizing would alter the immediate reality, meaning her optimal move was to immerse herself completely in the fabrication of the blade.
Sia’s fingers moved with fluid dexterity across the surface of the bone. In short order, her mind began drafting the aesthetic layout of the weapon. Because this artifact would exist as an unprecedented creation without equal across the world, shouldn’t its visual identity command absolute distinction as well?
‘What manner of mark would establish its uniqueness?’
Perhaps she could carve Minjun’s personal initials directly into the blade’s face.
No. In place of solely engraving Minjun’s name, incorporating her own identity as the artisan would prove vastly superior. It was, after all, an accepted convention for a creator’s name to be immortalized upon a legendary armament of this caliber.
Alternatively, she could sculpt twin likenesses of herself and Minjun intertwined along the hilt. Any casual observer might mistake the gesture for an eccentric jest, but Sia held nothing but deadly sincerity toward the idea.
Even if it demanded measures this overt, she desired to brand the undeniable reality into the eyes of all observers: Minjun and she belonged to one another as devoted lovers.
‘Oppa will surely treasure this, won’t he?’
A gentle, melodic hum slipped past Sia’s lips as she persisted in carving the bone. In more ways than a single perspective could capture, the forthcoming offering appeared destined to become an indelible token for Minjun and herself alike.
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