The Second Coming of Gluttony - Chapter 133

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 133. At the Very Least

A salt desert where white pearl fragments, heaped like a sandy beach, ripened under the blazing sun.
A human-shaped figure plummeted from the sky into an oasis where long tropical trees resembling date palms and fern plants formed the vegetation.
Splash!
The sound of striking water and submerging rang out with surprising force.
After finishing the campsite setup, Kazuki’s eyes, resting beneath a tent to escape the harsh sunlight, turned toward the lake. The white column that had shot up from the center scattered into spray and sank away.
Moments later, watching the youth with only the back of his head and part of his back barely surfacing, Kazuki instinctively grasped that Stage 3 had ended.
He’d thought it would take days, but it seemed to have concluded much sooner than expected.
“Seol!”
He called out loudly, but Seol Jihoo showed no sign of movement. He simply floated with his head submerged in the water.
Only then did everyone realize something was wrong.
Kazuki’s body froze just as he was about to rush forward. Cho Hong, who had been splashing at the oasis’s edge, suddenly plunged in.
“Come to your senses!”
Getting no response even when shouting up close, she urgently dragged him onto dry land.
“Ahhhhh!”
Fearing he might be dead, she shook him wildly like a flag in a storm, and Seol Jihoo’s body thrashed violently.
“What are you doing! You fool!”
Maria rushed up breathlessly and kicked Cho Hong’s rear end hard. Just as one must not carelessly touch a person who has been in a traffic accident without knowing what injuries they’ve sustained, it was taboo to shake someone roughly without understanding their wounds.
Seol Jihoo’s eyes were half open. Yet they were so clouded that his consciousness didn’t appear sharp.
“There are no obvious external injuries.”
Kazuki murmured after rapidly scanning his body. Maria, who had chanted a Healing Spell, clicked her tongue when it seemed to have little effect.
“That’s the thing. The damage was to his mind, not his body.”
“Is there no way?”
“Only an extremely small number among the Upper Rank priests can treat the mind. At the very least, if we had a mage, we could try to stabilize him….”
Kazuki scanned the oasis. But there was no sign of the priest he’d thought would have gone into Stage 3 together with them.
“Let’s wait for now.”
Maria licked her lips.
“His eyes still have focus, so it seems consciousness is there. If he’s collapsed from exhaustion due to mental pressure he couldn’t endure, he should gradually improve.”
Kazuki spoke calmly, but his insides were churning considerably.
‘What on earth happened?’
Kazuki knew that Seol Jihoo’s endurance was extraordinary. Even on that great rocky mountain, when his body and mind were on the verge of ruin, hadn’t he persevered through sheer tenacity alone?
Yet being driven to this state meant he’d experienced pressure beyond imagination.
‘Did he encounter a god….’
Not knowing that his stray thought had struck upon the truth, he began removing his jacket and armor.
When Sakamoto Jun handed over Healing Water, Kazuki supported Seol Jihoo’s nape and gently tilted the bottle.
Mercifully, his throat moved slowly but steadily. He seemed to possess enough consciousness to recognize and swallow the liquid flowing down his throat.
Some ten minutes passed, and Seol Jihoo released a short breath. When Kazuki saw his eyes blink, he opened his mouth.
“Are you coming to?”
Seol Jihoo’s eyes rolled side to side. Kazuki spoke.
“It’s the oasis. The place where we entered Stage 1. We’ve returned to Paradise.”
…….
“Not much time has passed. An hour or two since we returned.”
Seol Jihoo gave a small nod and exhaled again.
“Seol. I want to ask you something.”
Seeing him somewhat calmed, Kazuki leaned his face close and whispered.
“She went into Stage 3 as well, didn’t she?”
Seol Jihoo understood he was referring to the priest.
“Do you know what became of her? It’s a very important matter.”
Kazuki’s expression looked terribly urgent. Seol Jihoo seemed to understand the reason. It was because one of the seven gods had revealed that priest’s true identity.
Seol Jihoo closed his eyes gently.
Ira’s voice resounded as white light filled his vision. She must have generated a portal right where she stood the moment she granted the reward and sent her back. It was considerate in its own way.
There was no need to worry about those left behind. The other four had also cleared Stage 3, so they were entitled to receive their rewards. Once they regained consciousness and received their Matching Desire, they would return to Paradise.
As if to confirm that thought, the sound of water splashing came. All eyes turned toward the lake.
The priest surfaced on the lake, and as soon as consciousness returned to her, she jerked her chin upward to shake her head. In doing so, the wet hood fell away, and her long hair flowed down neatly.
Her hair, dark as pitch, reflected the sunlight and glimmered beautifully like silk.
Cho Hong’s eyes went wide with shock, and Maria let out a gasping sound, her mouth falling open. Kazuki hurriedly tried to avert his gaze, but blocking multiple pairs of eyes was impossible.
The woman caught herself and fumbled with her hair. But realizing it was already too late, she met seven pairs of eyes fixed upon her with an intensity that threatened to burn through her. Quietly, she lowered her arms.
Lushulia’s daughter.
Seo Yuhee.

“Vitale Resurgens.”
A fist-sized sphere materialized in Seo Yuhee’s palm, radiating brilliant emerald light. Maria shielded her eyes with the back of her hand, her tongue clicking in amazement.
“Wow… An Ancient Spell….”
Hugo, who had been swallowing hard as he stared at the curve of her chest swelling against the loose gown she wore, asked quietly.
“What’s an Ancient Spell?”
“Crazy rare stuff.”
“Is it good?”
“Shut up and watch. I’m seeing it for the first time myself.”
Maria, unable to tear her eyes away, waved him off irritably.
The sphere descended rapidly and vanished as if absorbed through the nose. Color gradually returned to Seol Jihoo’s pallid face, and his half-vacant eyes regained clarity.
Vitality surged up from within, and he was soon able to raise himself.
“Thank you.”
He bowed respectfully to express his gratitude, and Seo Yuhee answered with a gentle smile.
“And….”
Seol Jihoo hesitated, then continued with difficulty.
“I apologize.”
Seo Yuhee’s eyes widened at the sudden apology, then tilted with confusion. She quickly understood the reason for it and sent him a peculiar look.
“…Still apologizing for nothing, I see.”
“Pardon?”
“No. That’s not what I meant.”
Seo Yuhee covered her mouth and waved her hand dismissively.
“I just meant you have nothing to apologize for.”
“But because of me—”
“No.”
Seo Yuhee’s eyes curved in a soft, alluring smile.
“It might be the other way around.”
At her whispered words, Seol Jihoo blinked.
Hadn’t Seo Yuhee been forced to participate as his escort by order of the Seven Gods?
Seol Jihoo tilted his head in confusion, while Seo Yuhee smiled contentedly.
“I really had no idea!”
As a peculiar current flowed between them, Cho Hong let out a heavy sigh. Her voice carried a note of discontent.
“Why hide your identity in the first place?”
“Cho Hong!”
Kazuki called out in warning, but Cho Hong didn’t stop.
“Come on. You’re a Leading Figure, so if you’d stepped forward from the start, Stage 2 would’ve—”
“Watch your tongue. Don’t speak carelessly.”
Kazuki cut her off sharply.
“You said there were circumstances, didn’t you?”
“What did you just say? Don’t speak carelessly about what?”
Cho Hong’s temper flared. Kazuki’s momentum sharpened like an icy blade.
As the two Upper Ranks seemed ready to clash, Seo Yuhee stepped between them with grace.
“Those who pass Stage 3 cannot participate in the Event again.”
Meeting her clear gaze, Cho Hong faltered.
“I’ve cleared the Event before, so participating this year was an exception within an exception. Because of that, both my abilities and status are restricted from being revealed.”
Her refined voice rang out sweetly, like warm evening sunlight wrapping around one’s ear, and Cho Hong unconsciously softened her expression.
“I can’t disclose the personal reasons, but there was a reason I had to participate.”
“Ah—”
When a woman who was no less than Lushulia’s daughter bowed her head and asked his understanding so politely, Cho Hong felt embarrassed and could only scratch her head awkwardly.
The fact that she’d hidden things for such reasons was unavoidable, and besides, she’d done far more than her share—not freeloading at all—so there wasn’t much to say.
“If only you’d given us some hint… I would’ve… liked that….”
Astonished at herself for speaking so deferentially, Cho Hong quickly hid behind Seol Jihoo. Kazuki clicked his tongue.
“…My apologies.”
“No. It’s my fault.”
Seo Yuhee offered a bright smile.
“But—”
Kazuki, about to say something, fell silent as Seo Yuhee shook her head. She brushed back her bangs and released a long breath.
“…Let’s head back. To Haramag.”

They’d arrived by carriage, but the walk back was on foot.
The Federation team’s mood was subdued. It couldn’t have been otherwise.
Not merely a figure of consequence, but among the foremost Earthians of Paradise—and a Leading Figure who’d woven countless myths and legends alongside a man named Sung Si-hyun. It was no wonder everyone treaded carefully.
Even Kazuki found himself at a loss.
Yet Seo Yuhee, aloof as she appeared, was by nature no lover of solitude.
In truth, as the daughter of Lushulia, she might have wielded authority or indulged in privilege without raising an eyebrow. The human faction would hardly object; even the Federation and Parasite acknowledged her as exceptional—a being set apart, genuinely among the elect.
But Seo Yuhee made no such pretense. She behaved much like any other Earthian, if anything with disarming warmth and grace. Within days, she’d melted into the team.
She volunteered to prepare dinner that evening, and demonstrated a mastery of her craft that transformed the plainest ingredients into complex, fragrant dishes—the work of a true artisan.
“Blast! I never dreamed I’d taste the cooking of Lushulia’s daughter. What an honor!”
Sakamoto Jun effused with genuine delight. Seo Yuhee smiled warmly in return.
“Please, have as much as you’d like.”
“Since we’re being generous, might I trouble you for seconds?”
“Me too! And me!”
Hugo chimed in with equal enthusiasm. As the bowls came forward one after another, Seo Yuhee—though flustered—ladled generous portions of stew for each of them.
Between the two of them, they’d already emptied well over ten bowls, but there was no greater joy for a cook than watching others eat with such appetite.
“Mm….”
As Seo Yuhee stirred the pot with her ladle, her gaze suddenly fell upon a young man.
Seol Jihoo ate in silence, mechanically moving his spoon, yet every so often he’d hold it in his mouth without swallowing, or stare blankly into the distance.
Seo Yuhee, having watched him quietly for some time, ventured to speak.
“Um….”
…….
“Does it suit your taste?”
It was rare for Seo Yuhee to show such direct concern, and all eyes turned toward Seol Jihoo. He continued staring down at his bowl.
When Kazuki nudged him gently with his elbow, he finally stirred.
“?”
He lifted his face with a vacant expression, and Seo Yuhee seemed briefly embarrassed.
“It seemed as though you might not be enjoying it….”
“Oh.”
That wasn’t quite it. It was just….
“It’s delicious.”
Seol Jihoo offered a forced smile and began eating more deliberately, spoonful after spoonful. Yet the worry in her eyes lingered.
She was not alone in her concern.
After the meal, Sakamoto Jun and Hugo—who’d pitched the tent—sought out Seol Jihoo for a bit of ribaldry.
“Seol! You’re slick, aren’t you? You’ve learned a trick or two!”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb! Playing it cool like she’s nothing special, ‘I’m different’—that’s the move, isn’t it? Drawing her interest by pretending indifference?”
…….
“Is that it? The bad boy routine?”
Hugo chuckled and leaned in to whisper. Seol Jihoo simply regarded him in silence.
Hugo, flustered, pressed on.
“In any case, you’ve got something to look forward to tonight.”
“What… exactly?”
“Jun and I set up only one tent. We demolished the rest.”
“Why would you—”
“Why? So you can sleep in the same tent as Lushulia’s daughter! Co-sleeping, you understand?”
Hugo, now openly excited, folded his arms triumphantly.
“For the record, I’m taking the middle. Non-negotiable. I won’t budge.”
“…As you wish.”
Seol Jihoo nodded readily, as though indifferent to his plans. Hugo blinked, his face suddenly awkward.
“Hey… Seol.”
“Yes?”
“Is something troubling you? Or did something happen?”
“No. I simply have a lot on my mind. Nothing serious.”
Hugo bit his lip. Though Seol Jihoo insisted it was nothing, he couldn’t quite accept it at face value.
Throughout the return journey, Seol Jihoo had barely spoken. He’d spent more time lost in thought, his expression increasingly subdued. While he still answered when addressed, the difference from his usual bright laughter and playfulness was stark.
Something in him had shifted.
“I’m sorry if I’ve worried you. I’m truly fine.”
It was a gentle deflection, but it unmistakably conveyed a desire to be left alone. Even Hugo’s dull senses grasped as much.
“Mm….”
Hugo turned away, his face fallen.
Time passed, and the campsite was established.
With seven people, one had to stand watch alone through the night, and while everyone hesitated, hoping to pair with Seo Yuhee, Seol Jihoo volunteered.
There was the advantage of taking the early shift, but the greater reason was wanting solitude for his thoughts.
A quiet night.
Seol Jihoo stared into empty space again. To anyone watching, it would seem vacant, but he was actually viewing his Status Window.
More precisely, the Nine Eyes.

[Your Innate Ability ‘Nine Eyes’ is evolving.]
[The right direction (1), blue — Destiny Selection of your Innate Ability ‘Nine Eyes’ is now open.]

The first direction of the right axis.
Destiny Selection.
He couldn’t even grasp what it meant. Or rather, it was ambiguous—he almost understood but not quite. Looking back, it had been the same when the Golden Law first unlocked.
Of course, as he’d done so far, he could simply engage with it directly and learn through experience, but….
[You. Never forget this.]
[The choice you made today…!]
Ira’s voice still echoed in his ears.
Not from anyone else—the word “never” spoken by a being called a god carried different weight. The thought wouldn’t leave him that he must not treat the right lightly, that it held extraordinary significance.
Above all, remembering how Gula had desperately tried to stop him, saying “you’re not ready,” an inexplicable certainty took hold.
There were points worth noting.
A hazy hypothesis. It was a thought that had flickered past when he went to provoke Medusa in Aden Gorge.
That the Nine Eyes held some connection to Future Sense.

[Your Innate Ability ‘Future Sense’ resonates with the awakening of a new ability!]

Otherwise, such a message couldn’t have appeared at its first awakening.
Moreover, through the raids, he’d had experiences that seemed like reasonable evidence.
His speculation ended there.
How the left and down directions connected, and the relationship between Destiny Selection on the right and the Golden Law above it; and the fact that “choice” was embedded in the first abilities of both left and right directions—there were no shortage of unanswered questions.
What could he do? The innate ability called Nine Eyes was terribly unfriendly, explaining nothing in detail.
He tossed the cigarette, and sparks scattered. Seol Jihoo, hugging his legs together, stared at the campfire without pause.
The face of Ora-hui flickered through the blazing embers. Lara Wolfe, the girl with the white headband, the giant, Audrey Bastler, the slicked-back man—they passed through in turn.
The two man and woman as well.
In the wavering flames, Seol Jihoo gazed fixedly at their faces, twisted and distorted beyond recognition.
“Why did you have to kill them.”
The quiet voice,
“You could’ve just gone through the portal quietly.”
His muttering, saying there’d have been no need to come to Stage 3, was chillingly matter-of-fact.
Devoid of any emotion whatsoever.
“What, chasing after more riches and glory….”
Even knowing it was an illusion, Seol Jihoo kept speaking.
Until the two faces disappeared.
Seol Jihoo, who had been glaring at the fire, drew out a fresh cigarette and placed it between his lips. His gaze lowered slowly, coming to rest on his two hands searching his pocket for fire.
Hands that had never killed a person until just before joining the raid. There had been cases of standing by when he could have saved someone, but he had never directly murdered with his own hands.
Then in Stage 3, he finally experienced killing.
Seol Jihoo examined his hands with an expressionless gaze.
Hands no different from usual. No tremor, no unnoticed anxiety, no nightmares.
They’d done something deserving death, so he killed them. He’d thought even then that it was something he’d experience sooner or later.
No matter how much meaning he tried to assign, his sense of it barely reached this point.
And so a sense of discord crept in instead.
By common sense, it made no sense.
A young man who’d known nothing of murder for twenty-six years had killed someone and felt nothing?
The sensation of slashing a woman’s throat in one stroke was still vivid. The sensation of tearing through and piercing a man’s body as he thrashed, driving him into the wall—it remained so clear.
Yet truly, he felt nothing.
A thought suddenly came to him.
Seol Jihoo believed the future was changing, however minutely. This belief remained unchanged now.
But what of “I” himself?
Was he changing in step with the changing future?
Or was he flowing identically toward the form that Future Sense had shown him?
There was no time to make a judgment call.
Yet if he dismissed this sense of wrongness as trivial, some inexplicable instinct whispered that the latter possibility was true.
The moment he acknowledged and accepted this numbness, he feared he would become a monster—just as he’d seen in his dreams—rampaging across the battlefield like a Malevolent Spirit, delighting in the feel of blood drenching his skin.
If he truly changed in that way, should he rejoice? Or should he be afraid?
Seol Jihoo closed his eyes within the tangle of his thoughts.
‘The’ first killing.
And he had taken two lives no less.
Both of them must have had their own lives, their own histories.
Perhaps the dissonance might drive him toward an extreme choice someday.
……
Seol Jihoo buried his face against his knees.
At the very least.
He thought he would feel even the smallest shred of guilt.

(To be continued in the next chapter)

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————