The Second Coming of Gluttony - Chapter 103

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Chapter 103. The Threads of Fate, Woven One by One (5)

[Well done.]
Gulla spoke in a rare, pleased tone.
[You’ve thwarted their plan and dealt a considerable blow to their forces. Even the Parasite Queen will have no choice but to hesitate.]
From the sound of it, she was offering genuine praise. Seol Jihoo bowed his head experimentally and felt the gentle touch of her hand stroking it—warm and pleasant, perhaps because it was the caress of a goddess.
[Well done. You’ve bought us much time.]
‘Time, goddess?’
[Yes. When you eventually plunge into the currents of destiny, I shall be a steadfast breakwater for you.]
The praise was welcome, but the cryptic words that followed were not.
‘If I may be so bold, could you speak more plainly?’
[What do you mean?]
‘Exactly as I said. You always seem to speak in circles, and I’d prefer not to keep guessing.’
[…….]
‘Take the Five Ws and One H, for instance. Who, when, where, what, how, and why. If you explained things that way, wouldn’t it be better for both you and me?’
Seol Jihoo’s presumptuous tone made Gulla’s hand still. How was she to handle this one? He felt the sensation of her tapping his crown lightly, as if in thought.
[Have I not told you? Celestial Secret Revelation exerts profound influence upon the Causality Law.]
‘Is influence on the Causality Law really so grave a matter?’
[It is indeed. You may cause effects and achieve results as you desire, yet the Causality Law remains always balanced.]
Her voice continued, soothing and gentle.
[You may tilt the scales temporarily, but in the end, all returns to its place—such is the law of causality.]
‘Then you mean that even if I achieve a result, a similar cause and effect will be granted to my opponent?’
[Precisely. And if you are not careful, all the effort you have expended thus far may return to nothing.]
‘Well, I suppose I can’t press the matter further, then.’
Seol Jihoo nodded quietly in acceptance. Gulla’s voice rang out, perhaps bothered by his deflated expression.
[I do wish to tell you more. And there is, in fact, a method—though I believe the time is not yet right. For now, I ask that you exercise patience and focus on your growth.]
At the suggestion that there was a way to evade the Causality Law, Seol Jihoo’s ears perked up. But he did not press further. Gulla’s tone had grown so serious that his instincts screamed not to probe deeper.
So the curious young man chose to finish his business first.
His Level progression was as expected. Seol Jihoo confirmed that he had accumulated considerable experience points and merit from his participation in the rescue operation. It seemed the indirect contribution to the laboratory’s destruction and his safe return after all that suffering had earned him substantial credit.
To what extent, you ask?
[By Gulla’s authority, I hereby appoint Seol Jihoo as a Level 3 Mana Spear Artist, effective this moment. I look forward to deeds befitting your unique Class.]
Level 3 with experience points to spare…?
‘I beg your pardon?’
Seol Jihoo’s head snapped up. His elation instantly gave way to bewilderment.
[What is the matter?]
‘The Class n-name, goddess.’
[Mana Spear Artist.]
At Gulla’s definitive answer, Seol Jihoo recoiled in shock, then slumped. After a moment’s hesitation, he opened his eyes wide and spoke.
‘That’s… genuinely unfair, goddess.’
[?]
‘A Mana Spear Artist? I mean—that’s the Class name?’
[What is wrong with that?]
‘Well, there are plenty of impressive Class titles out there. I can never mention mine in public.’
[You impertinent boy.]
Seol Jihoo felt the hand stroking his crown grow firmer. He hurried to ask before the blow could fall.
‘Goddess, if I may ask one more thing?’
[Speak.]
‘Is there any chance I could open even one of the Nine Eyes’ western directions?’
[That’s absurd.]
He had dared to hope, but reality struck back just as swiftly. Her tone was resolute—utterly out of the question. Seol Jihoo, who had been rubbing his palms together with a nervous laugh, suddenly grew cold.
[Come now. The three directions of the west are bound together and must be opened simultaneously—I have already told you the merit required would be astronomical.]
At such a dismissal, Seol Jihoo grumbled under his breath. Here she was, a goddess, yet playing cheap tricks like that. At the very least, couldn’t she change his Class name? His grievances poured forth—her naming was terrible, he complained, absolutely terrible.
[Such insolence.]
Smack.
In the end, he took a blow to the head.
‘Tch.’
Seol Jihoo rubbed the bump forming on his crown, steam rising from it, and huffed through his nose.
‘Just you wait.’
From what he’d heard, Rushuria, the goddess of desire, spoke kindly like an older woman and held you warmly in her embrace. On top of that, her voice was said to be remarkably sensual, which didn’t match her appearance at all.
He resolved to himself that he would visit the Rushuria Temple, that he’d come back here again.
[Sigh….]
While Gulla sighed as though utterly exasperated, Seol Jihoo examined his newly unlocked abilities.
The Mana Throwing Spear could evolve into Mana Throwing Spear—Rapid Fire, but he’d pass on that since he planned to master it himself. And then there was Aura, which infused mana to enhance cutting power, shattering force, and the like.
Thinking back on when he’d mastered Aura made him chuckle. Aura was originally a skill taught at Level 3, so learning it at Level 2 was extraordinarily difficult.
Even the old master had originally intended to stop at merely materializing his energy.
But there was one thing Jang Maldong had overlooked: Seol Jihoo’s mana reserves were high enough to utterly dominate most upper-ranked individuals. Beyond that, thanks to his Qi Circulation Technique—which boasted high proficiency relative to his level—and the tear-effect modifier from F.C.H.’s eye, he’d mastered Aura in no time.
The look on the old master’s face had been hilarious.
In any case, all that remained was a skill called Bow Body Bullet Shadow, something oddly familiar.
‘It seems to be an ability related to body techniques….’
He’d seen something similar a few times in martial arts novels, but that was all.
A line of concern settled across Seol Jihoo’s face. To be more precise, he was lamenting, ‘How am I supposed to master this one too?’
[You have worries, then.]
‘No, it’s just….’
Seol Jihoo, who’d been shaking his head, laughed weakly upon realizing the god could read his thoughts.
[Heh heh. Your worry is needless.]
‘Needless, you say?’
[There is no cause for premature concern. Had you fled or chosen nothing, it would be different. But you have been steadily weaving the threads of connection, thread by thread, however few.]
‘Ah.’
There it went again. Clouds and mist—vague talk.
[The threads bound to you are now drawing in new connections. So wait patiently and see.]
He couldn’t make sense of any of this talk about connection and threads. The word “drawing in” bothered him a little, as it sounded like it meant binding someone, but since it didn’t sound like a bad thing overall, he nodded obediently.
There was no point in nitpicking his words—he’d only get hit again. Besides, Seol Jihoo’s mind was already full of thoughts about Bow Body Bullet Shadow.

Jang Maldong sprawled across the sofa, utterly exhausted.
He’d seen just about everyone worth seeing. He was thinking of heading back, but visitors kept coming without end.
He didn’t dislike that they remembered to find him. But even good things had limits.
Most problematic was that more than a few people were subtly hoping he’d reverse his retirement while pretending not to care, and conducting in-depth conversations with each of them was draining.
And that wasn’t all. If there was something he’d heard more often than talk of retirement, it was talk of the newcomer.
Every visitor without exception mentioned him at least once, and by now it was beginning to irritate him.
Not that he lacked interest, if he were being honest….
‘Come to think of it, that guy’s name was… no, never mind.’
What good would knowing do him? The man had already left.
“I really should be heading home. If I stay any longer….”
Jang Maldong picked up his loosened necktie and jacket. But the heavens, it seemed, were indifferent.
Knock, knock.
Before he’d even finished tying his necktie, he heard knocking. Jang Maldong let out a loud groan and flopped back down, pressing his forehead.
“…Come in. It’s unlocked.”
The door opened. Jang Maldong, viewing the visitor with bleary eyes, showed a hint of surprise.
“You were here?”
An elderly voice. The man who’d entered looked quite old—about the same age as Jang Maldong, it seemed.
What mattered was that he was a stranger.
The old man looked at Jang Maldong and asked quietly.
“Pardon my intrusion. Is there an Earthian called Seol here?”
‘That’s right. Seol… wait. Did he say Earthian?’
People from Earth didn’t usually refer to themselves as Earthians. Since the term had been created to distinguish between them, it was more accurate to say that Paradiseans were the ones who used it.
“That fellow seems to have stepped out for a moment. Ah, do come in.”
“I see. I appreciate your generosity, but I’ll take a moment of your time.”
The old man sat on the sofa across from him. Since his visitor appeared to be about his own age, Jang Maldong’s manner of speech became more refined. The old man’s was too.
“Won’t you have some tea while you wait?”
“No, thank you. And I’m not a Paradisean.”
“Whether Paradisean or Earthian, what does it matter?”
Jang Maldong chuckled and soon brought two cups of tea, handing one over.
“Th-thank you.”
“Think nothing of it. It’s tea leaves I brought from Earth—we call it Amrit Tea. It’s mild with a sweet aftertaste, so I think you’ll find it pleasant.”
The old man sipped cautiously, then nodded quietly.
“It tastes good.”
“I’m glad it suits you. If you don’t mind, I’ll pack some for you to take when you leave.”
Watching Jang Maldong laugh heartily, the old man looked bewildered—as though baffled by this unexpected hospitality.
After taking a sip of tea, Jang Maldong finally voiced his curiosity.
“If I may ask, who are you? And what brings you to search for that man?”
A courteous question. As an old man who had even been treated as an NPC, Jang Maldong couldn’t help but see Jang Maldong differently—even being a Paradisean, he was receiving proper courtesy as a guest.
So he straightened his posture and opened his mouth with dignity.
“I am the chief of Raman Village. I’ve come to express the gratitude of the village.”
“Pardon?”
At the unexpected purpose of the visit, Jang Maldong reacted in confusion.
Click. The door opened.
At the same moment, two pairs of eyes turned and discovered a young man entering, looking dispirited.
“Oh?”
Seol Jihoo also let out a sharp sound upon seeing the chief.
“Chief?”
The chief smiled gently at last.
“It’s been a while.”

Seol Jihoo and the chief chatted for quite some time. The atmosphere was rather pleasant. And no wonder—they had done each other considerable favors, so it could only be good.
Meanwhile, Jang Maldong, who had become like a forgotten sack of grain, was subtly concentrating on their conversation.
“You’re truly foolish, aren’t you? After receiving a gold bar, you ask that it be used for our village. Do you have any idea how shocked I was to hear that?”
‘What?’
Jang Maldong’s eyebrows shot up as he listened with one hand cupping his chin. Received what? Used it how?
“I remembered you mentioning you wanted to enter the city. And I’m not the type to live in debt.”
“You certainly repay debts in grand fashion. But tell me—how did you persuade the king? He wouldn’t have agreed easily.”
“He seemed troubled. So I ended up bringing up how much I’ve benefited from your kindness. Ah, but since I made it clear, there shouldn’t be any further inconvenience.”
“Well, he’s already come directly. He subtly asked whether I’d lend strength for the sake of the Royal House.”
“Eh?”
“Don’t worry too much. He said he’d let the past go unspoken, so I told him I’d think about it.”
Though he spoke calmly, it seemed he was pleased that the king himself had come to offer a position, for he chuckled softly. In that moment, the strange phrase ‘bound by fate’ flashed through Seol Jihoo’s mind, but he quickly forgot it and offered congratulations.
The chief, who had been clearing his throat, suddenly realized he’d been rambling—carried away by the atmosphere.
“Now that I think of it, this gentleman is…”
Just as Seol Jihoo was about to introduce him, Jang Maldong spoke first.
“My name is Jang Maldong. I’m merely an insignificant villager.”
“Jang Maldong?”
The chief, who had been repeating the name slowly, suddenly reacted with surprise.
“Could you be the martial master of Haramag…?”
“That’s merely a false reputation.”
The chief shook his head blankly.
“False reputation, you say. That’s quite modest of you. There are few Paradiseans who don’t know of Master Jang.”
Having said that, the chief
“went on to say, “I am but an insignificant country chief, Arbor Muto. Would you shake my hand?”
He suddenly extended his hand.
“I’m deeply ashamed to take your hand.”
“Don’t be that way. I know well how much and for how long you’ve exerted great strength for Paradise. If even a country chief living in obscurity knows this, that says everything!”
With those words, Jang Maldong found it difficult to refuse any further.
Seol Jihoo watched the two old men clasp hands with satisfaction, thinking to himself, ‘Elder is truly remarkable.’
After shaking hands, the chief—rather, Arbor Muto—rose to his feet. Jang Maldong hurriedly stood as well.
“Won’t you stay a bit longer?”
“It’s fine. I’m busy with relocation preparations, so I should head back soon.”
Given that, it was difficult to detain him further. Muto looked back and forth between Jang Maldong and Seol Jihoo, then offered a pleased smile.
“I sensed something different about this young man from the start… Ah, it must be your influence. Indeed, a cowardly disciple would never emerge from beneath a courageous master.”
“Ah, no…”
“I offer my thanks to the master as well. Thanks to you, hundreds of residents of Raman Village have been saved.”
Jang Maldong was flustered. The old man before him seemed to have thoroughly misunderstood something.
Yet Muto continued without concern.
“A truly excellent disciple. I’m envious.”
At that moment, Jang Maldong’s eyes grew wide as saucers. His face was as if his soul had fled after being struck hard by a hammer.
“Let me see you out.”
“No need. It would only be inconvenient if you did.”
As Muto walked toward the door, he suddenly stopped.
“Ah… now that I think of it, there’s something I didn’t say. Or rather, it’s more like a request.”
“Please, speak.”
At Seol Jihoo’s words, Muto rummaged through his pocket and handed over a folded sheet of paper.
“Do you happen to know the place they call Big Stone Rock Mountain?”
Seol Jihoo tilted his head. He didn’t know it, but Jang Maldong knew it well—a place where countless memories lay buried from his years of active service. For Cho Hong and Hugo, though, it was a nightmare made flesh.
Seol Jihoo accepted the paper and asked.
“What is this paper?”
“A map marking the location of a hideout within the mountain.”
“I’m sorry?”
“What’s so surprising about that?”
“…How many hideouts are there?”
Muto paused to think, then answered.
“About twenty-two, I’d say?”
…….
“A clever man always keeps plenty of holes to slip through.”
Muto chuckled and continued.
“In any case, it won’t take long. By carriage, half a day should be more than sufficient.”
“What should I do once I’m at the hideout?”
“Nothing complicated. There should be various instruments and books scattered about—just gather them and bring them to me.”
“That doesn’t sound difficult.”
“It’s not. Still, it’d be wise to be careful. It’s been such a long time since I visited, and the hideout sits deep within a cave, so who knows what might be there.”
“Understood, sir.”
Seol Jihoo nodded readily.
“By when should I bring them to you?”
“Take your time with it. I’ve been rather busy myself lately. Come and go when you have a spare moment—get some air while you’re at it.”
“The timeline is generous.”
Seol Jihoo smiled faintly.
“And…”
Muto glanced at him cautiously before speaking in a low voice.
“I was thinking of offering the commission fee from what’s inside the hideout. Does that suit you?”
“From inside the hideout?”
“Yes. Whatever’s there—items, Antidote Potions, various things of modest value. If you’d rather have coin, that’s fine too.”
“No. I’ll do it that way.”
Recalling that the village elder had once been a renowned mage, Seol Jihoo agreed without hesitation.
“In any case, pay a visit when you find the time.”
With that, Muto left the office.
“Who was that man?”
Jang Maldong, scarcely gathered his wits, asked the moment he heard the door close. Seol Jihoo hesitated, seeming to find the answer difficult.
“He doesn’t seem like an old man buried away in the countryside.”
“How did you know?”
“He struck me as no ordinary fellow, and the conversation itself was enough to infer much. Any man the king would propose for office can’t be a mere nobody.”
“Ah… I suppose not.”
“Never mind. My tongue is sealed.”
Seol Jihoo scratched his cheek and, finding no way around it, opened his mouth.
“He was once a celebrated mage of the Delpinion Duchy, though he’s been in seclusion.”
“The Delpinion Duchy!”
Jang Maldong let out an exclamation.
“An imperial mage, then. He’s a bigger figure than I thought.”
“Well, a duchy actually?”
“Isn’t Delpinion one of the imperial duke houses?”
Seol Jihoo’s eyes widened at this information he’d never heard before.
“Muto is quite something either way. He could have just said so plainly. Why attach it to a commission like that…”
Jang Maldong, who had been chuckling, suddenly raised his arm with a benevolent expression. He placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder.
“Thank you.”
Pat, pat.
He tapped twice, then smiled broadly.
It was a smile Seol Jihoo had never seen before.

Contrary to his earlier vow to leave as soon as possible, Jang Maldong stayed another day. His stated reason was to see Cho Hong and Hugo once more before departing, but looking deeper, that wasn’t quite it.
His encounter with Arbor Muto, the words the man had spoken—they wouldn’t fade. Like an aftertaste, they lingered, leaving him with an oddly refreshing feeling that wouldn’t dissipate. For the first time in ages, the thought of wanting to remain in Paradise, of all places, had taken hold.
Of course, staying in Paradise carried the risk of meeting someone else. And Jang Maldong’s instinct was rarely wrong.
“Maldong!”
Ian arrived again, just as he had on the first day. Jang Maldong made no effort to hide his irritation, but when Ian asked how soon he’d be leaving and suggested they share a drink before he went, Jang found himself unable to refuse. They headed toward food, drink, and merrymaking.
“I figured you’d vanish without a trace, so I’m a little surprised you’re still here.”
“I’ll be leaving soon enough.”
“That’s what you keep saying.”
“I have to go. An old man lingering in the back room just eats leftover scraps.”
“What? Who treats you like some old back-room fixture? Who?”
Ian launched into an impassioned tirade, spittle flying.
“Listen here, my friend. Think about it again, will you? Haramag still needs your strength!”
In truth, Ian Denzel was one of the most burdensome people Jang Maldong had to face. The depth of their connection meant Ian yearned for his return more desperately than anyone else.
“Hah….”
As Jang Maldong fell silent, Ian exhaled a long breath. The reek of alcohol was thick on him—he was thoroughly drunk.
Ian smacked his lips and, with an unsteady arm, refilled his cup before speaking.
“Roger, Geoff, Sengoku… those who knew of Paradise back then are growing fewer and fewer.”
“More than ten years have passed. It’s only natural.”
Jang Maldong nodded calmly as he replied, but then—
“Wait. Roger? Who?”
He knitted his brow in confusion. Ian, with his head bowed low, could not contain himself and burst into helpless laughter.
“Pity! What a shame! I was hoping to catch that reluctant look of acknowledgment on your face!”
Jang Maldong clicked his tongue, his expression utterly dumbfounded.
“Your habit of spouting nonsense hasn’t changed. Do you still watch cartoons these days?”
“Of course I do. You should give it a try sometime. Japanese manga in particular is quite entertaining.”
“At my age? Besides, know when to stop. I don’t mind you watching, but aren’t you embarrassed spewing all that drivel?”
“Wise counsel from a friend indeed. Very well! I shall abstain henceforth.”
Ian smacked the table, his eyes suddenly gleaming.
“Then come back.”
Jang Maldong’s face showed utter exhaustion at the non sequitur.
“I give you credit for your persistence, at least. Don’t you ever tire of it?”
“Do you know why I refuse to give up and keep pushing?”
One question answered another.
“No.”
“Because I know you still have doubts. Unresolved feelings.”
Just as Jang Maldong was about to drain his cup, he caught sight of Ian’s somber expression and faltered.
“The Jang Maldong I know is a man of clean breaks and clear resolutions. Yet the fact that you return here from time to time—that means you haven’t truly abandoned Paradise.”
Ian pressed the point home. Jang Maldong slowly set down his cup.
“What do you know?”
“No one in Paradise knows you like I do.”
……
“I don’t believe it was your fault that the beastfolk union received no aid, that rebellion and strife erupted, that innocent Paradiseans died as a result.”
“Then it wasn’t my fault.”
Jang Maldong acquiesced readily.
“But I do think it was negligent homicide in your official capacity. To wield power so carelessly was a mistake.”
His voice carried the weight of remorse.
“I had never questioned my vocation so deeply, never cursed the acupuncture I’d spent decades perfecting, as in those days—when I witnessed how a man with power could transform.”
“If Jang Maldong truly believed that, I wouldn’t try to stop you.”
Ian shrugged.
“But you’re not the kind of man who abandons his mistakes and runs. You’re the type who overcomes failure and makes amends.”
“Let’s drop this.”
Jang Maldong’s eyes flashed with displeasure.
“There’s no reason for me to stay in Paradise any longer.”
“There is.”
Yet Ian did not relent.
“You have a dream you haven’t yet fulfilled.”
“A dream I can never fulfill.”
Jang Maldong spoke bitterly.
“It’s far too late. Paradise has already—”
“That’s not true.”
Ian cut him off before he could finish.
“I think life is like the seasons. When spring passes, summer comes, and when summer passes, autumn, and when autumn passes, winter arrives.”
“Listen. Spare me the vague talk. If you have something to say, say it plainly.”
“That’s the thing, you see.”
Ian brought up the main point.
“Why’s he bringing that up again?”
“I think the change has already begun.”
“You make it sound like he’s going to restore Paradise all by himself.”
“It’s not a lie. I’m holding out hope for it.”
Ian’s tone remained grave throughout, each syllable weighted with conviction.
“People said it couldn’t be done. Impossible, they said. But time and again, Seol turned those impossibilities into reality. When I saw him survive the rescue mission, I was certain. You might chalk up one or two successes to luck, but not three. Seol possesses a special power.”
Jang Maldong closed his eyes. A long sigh escaped him.
“I know he’s—special. I’ll grant he’s competent. But….”
Jang Maldong hesitated, his mouth twisting slightly.
“No one knows what a man will become later. Who’s to say what he’ll turn into? Not even him.”
“That’s precisely why you’re needed.”
Ian spoke as though he’d been waiting for this opening.
“Seol needs someone right now—someone to teach him properly, to guide him down the right path.”
The words spilled out with a note of frustration.
Jang Maldong said nothing, merely toying with his cup. He looked as though he were wrestling with something.
Ian’s face had flushed crimson as he drained his cup repeatedly.
“Maldong.”
Despite his slurring tongue, his words remained clear.
“Spring doesn’t come simply because you wait for it during the season of life.”
……
“You must endure bitter cold. You have to struggle free from frozen, hardened ground before you can finally emerge and meet the spring.”
……
“I’m not asking you to do anything extraordinary. Not asking you to step to the forefront. We’ve both failed before, and we’re both old now.”
Having said this, Ian continued,
“If the dream we once shared together still remains—”
His voice took on an earnestness it had never held before.
“Then let’s take a chance on it one more time.”
On the last possible card for a reversal of fortune—thud!
Ian’s murmurings trailed off as he slumped forward, his forehead meeting the table.
Silence stretched out. Jang Maldong, who had been staring intently at the now-sleeping Ian with his incoherent mutterings, let out a forlorn laugh.
“Easy to talk. Damned fool.”
He lifted the cup he’d been fingering and drained it in one go.

Jang Maldong left the tavern as evening deepened. After asking the master to leave Ian somewhere appropriate, he headed toward the Carpe Diem Office.
His gait wavered slightly—the drink was getting to him.
Jang Maldong’s steps halted just before the building. On reflection, there was no real reason to go in. He could turn around and be done with it.
Hesitating, he stole a glance inside. And then, “Hm,” he uttered, almost unconsciously.
On the first floor, a young man was training intently. Despite the late hour. Just as he had been the first time Jang Maldong saw him.
The longer he watched, the more fragments of memory drifted through his mind.
[Do you believe it? I was comforting a soul. Comforting a soul, I tell you!]
[That was damn funny. Right. If you want to take it, step over my corpse to do it. I still remember saying that.]
[A fool, you are. Do you know why he volunteered to lure forces into Aden Gorge? He said the kingdom’s soldiers were too valuable to waste.]
[Quite an unusual Earthian. How to put it… just watching how he defers to me as king, I can tell he doesn’t treat Paradise as mere amusement. For even that meticulous Teresa to have fallen for him…]
Above all,
[A truly exceptional disciple.]
Recalling those words from Arbor Muto, Jang Maldong’s body trembled.
He’d heard similar praise many times while raising countless Earthians. Yet this emotion was new. Because the same words could carry entirely different meanings.
The more he thought about it, the more a sticky thread seemed to catch at his ankles, refusing to let go.
[You know I have regrets.]
Jang Maldong sighed.
“It’s not lingering regrets—it’s new ones. Damn it.”
He muttered to himself, his eyes turbulent as he watched the young man.
‘If only he were a prodigy.’
After days of observation, the youth’s physical specs were extraordinary for his level, yet his natural talent was remarkably ordinary. He wasn’t someone who excelled without effort, but neither was he someone who refused or couldn’t learn. If any one of those three had been true, Jang Maldong would have left without hesitation.
That’s what made it unbearable.
Teach him this. Teach him that.
He just needed to be shown—and he’d improve.
‘And of all times, he has to appear now, in my twilight years….’
Jang Maldong pulled his fedora down low over his eyes. Then he turned and walked away, slowly.

Seol Jihoo was in excellent spirits. Agnes was visiting today—he’d received word of it. He’d heard she might be quite late, but Agnes never broke her promises, so he’d simply wait for her arrival.
The moment she walked in, he planned to ask her about the Bow Body Bullet Shadow technique. That anticipation kept him training with infectious energy.
Then the door opened.
“Oh.”
Seol Jihoo spun around, half-expecting her—then froze, blinking rapidly.
“Elder…?”
“Seol, was it?”
Beyond the shock of his sudden arrival, what startled him most was that the old man had called him by name—truly by name—for the first time.
“I have something to ask you.”
The abrupt statement left Seol Jihoo bewildered, but he dismounted obediently from the training apparatus.
“Why did you come to Paradise?”
Seol Jihoo’s expression faltered. He couldn’t discern the intent behind the question. Now that he thought about it, there was a faint smell of alcohol—the old man seemed slightly drunk. Yet those weathered eyes burned with such intensity that Seol felt heat radiating from them.
“I’m asking what your reason is for entering Paradise in the first place.”
Sensing something amiss, Seol Jihoo chose his words carefully before speaking.
“Because I like it here.”
“Don’t give me abstract nonsense.”
The old man pressed him, visibly frustrated.
“Be specific. Money. Fame. Profit, even. Freedom. Things like that!”
Seol Jihoo shook his head firmly.
“No… it’s not any of those.”
“It’s not?”
The old man’s question cut like a blade.
“You despise wealth and honor?”
“No, sir. I don’t hate them. There’s nothing wrong with wanting them.”
“Exactly.”
“But that’s not why I came to Paradise.”
“Then why?”
“Because this is where I belong.”
Seol Jihoo scratched the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.
“It’s the place that gave me a second chance….”
He found himself struggling for words, managing an awkward smile.
“I can’t think of anything better to say than that I like it.”
The old man’s eyes never wavered. He studied every minute muscle in Seol Jihoo’s face with meticulous care.
A long silence stretched between them.
Then the old man spoke.
“If that’s true…”
“?”
“Then you’d grieve sincerely if Paradise were to disappear.”
“Of—of course.”
Seol Jihoo answered hesitantly. Paradise vanish? He’d only just found a place where he belonged. The very thought was unbearable.
But seeing the confusion in his eyes—why would the old man even pose such a question?—the harshness suddenly drained from the elder’s face.
“You mean it? Truly?”
His rough voice had softened.
“Yes.”
Seol Jihoo answered clearly, though a puzzled crease remained on his brow.
“But why are you asking me this?”
No answer came. The wooden cane, which had been tapping rhythmically against the floor, fell silent.
“Cursed fool.”
The old man spat the words suddenly.
“If only you’d arrived ten years ago—no, five years ago.”
He ground his teeth.
“Why now, of all times…!”
Muttering to himself, he strode past Seol Jihoo and disappeared down into the basement.
‘What did I do wrong?’
Seol Jihoo stood there looking aggrieved, as if struck without cause.
In the basement, Jang Maldong yanked open an iron cabinet. Inside hung clothing from years past, neatly arranged.
With conflicted eyes, Jang Maldong stripped off his suit roughly. Shirt, trousers—everything came off without hesitation, and he pulled on athletic wear instead.
In the mirror’s reflection, he scarcely recognized himself. Yet something within him stirred with unfamiliar emotion.
After a moment.
The moment Paradise’s King Maker returned.

(To be continued in the next episode)

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