The Second Coming of Gluttony - Chapter 76

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

Chapter 76. Maria’s Melancholy

Unable to resist Maria’s insistence, Seol Jihoo forced himself to his feet. He pulled Mikhail and Cho Hong along while she dragged Veronica out of the cave.
Once they left the Hilly Region and returned to the Campsite, the reality of survival finally struck him. Tears threatened to spill, but he held them back.
Maria wept. Despite her usual rough manner, she was only human after all. Seol Jihoo felt a kinship with her and smiled quietly to himself.
“What are you staring at? Damn it. You think it’s funny watching someone cry?”
…….
It turned out Maria had been crying because she’d sacrificed a Cross as an offering—and she resented losing it. Regardless of its price, it wasn’t the sort of thing you could simply buy with money.
She’d endured hardship. She’d lost a precious artifact. Her body was wrecked, her appearance ruined. It was only natural that tears came when faced with such a wretched situation.
Seol Jihoo tried to console her carefully, pointing out that they’d solved the mystery after all, but Maria shot back that honor didn’t put food on the table. She insisted she’d never wanted to come in the first place—if she’d known it would turn out like this, she wouldn’t have come even for 150 Silver Coins instead of 15. She poured out grievances and laments without end.
“If only you’d voted yes back then….”
“How was I supposed to know it would come to this!”
Why hadn’t he persuaded her better? Maria seized him by the collar and shook him violently, thrashing about. She’d already lost her mind. She stood up with a hiss, then began kicking Mikhail and Veronica in turn with an almost serene expression on her face as they lay unconscious.
‘She’s lost it.’
Seol Jihoo sighed and turned his anxious gaze toward Cho Hong, ignoring Maria. Strangely, her hair remained that brilliant silver. It looked different from this angle—her upright posture, her quiet sleep, made her appear almost divine in her beauty.
After running his fingers through Cho Hong’s silken hair for a while, Seol Jihoo quietly lay down beside her, keeping her hair grasped firmly in one hand.

It wasn’t until morning, when he opened his eyes, that he realized they’d slept without setting a night watch. It was something he should never have done, but exhaustion had left him no choice.
Mikhail and Veronica came to their senses first. The confused pair finally grasped the situation once Seol Jihoo explained what had happened. They were particularly outraged when they learned that Gyel-shal had fled the moment they collapsed.
“That bastard Gyel-shal…!”
Mikhail’s face reddened as he ground his teeth.
“Damn the wretched creature. Just you wait. I’ll spread his name not just through Haramag but across the entire region—he won’t be able to set foot in Paradise again.”
As the saying goes, rumor travels a thousand leagues without legs. The destructive power of reputation is terrifying. No Earthian would welcome someone who abandoned his comrades in the midst of battle.
Seol Jihoo would have done the same if he’d been able to. There was simply no need anymore.
“That won’t be necessary.”
“What? Why not?”
“He’s already dead.”
Even now, the memory kindled his anger. The Nest had absorbed Gyel-shal’s corpse, allowing it to recover from the fatal wounds Maria and Cho Hong had inflicted at the cost of their lives. If Future Foresight hadn’t activated, they would have been dead for certain.
“Serves him right.”
“Died like the piece of filth he was.”
Their reaction was somewhat unexpected. They’d seemed like comrades who’d fought together for a long time. Yet rather than showing even a moment of regret, they applauded him for dying well. Mikhail noticed his expression and spoke.
“Don’t waste your sympathy on someone like that.”
“I’m not sympathizing.”
“He broke the covenant first. He violated Paradise’s taboos. If he was going to do as he pleased, why join the team at all? He should have acted alone.”
It was a fair point. Mikhail worked his jaw, then glanced around nervously before clasping his hands together quietly.
“I’m sorry.”
“?”
“About Gyel-shal and everything else… you were right. We shouldn’t have gone in. I let greed cloud my judgment.”
Veronica had nothing to say either, quietly averting her gaze.
Truth be told, they weren’t people he was satisfied with. Compared to the previous expedition, they clearly fell short. The gap between Veronica and Samuel was like the difference between earth and sky.
But that had been the level of the team from the start. Both of them had done their best within their capabilities. At least they hadn’t run away like someone else.
That’s why Seol Jihoo could smile.
“It’s fine.”

Once the team had packed up the Campsite, they set out on the road back to Laman Village.
There was one problem: Cho Hong still hadn’t regained consciousness.
Mikhail, troubled by guilty feelings, offered to carry Cho Hong on his back. But Seol Jihoo firmly refused. Though his strength hadn’t fully returned, he stubbornly carried her himself. The thought of another man touching Cho Hong stirred an inexplicable sense of resistance within him.
After arriving after roughly two hours, the team immediately went to the Inn and took the largest room available. Whether others could wait or not, both Maria and Cho Hong desperately needed proper rest.
Mikhail said he’d look into finding a Carriage, and Veronica had to go fetch a decent meal at Maria’s command.
Seol Jihoo also left the Inn. There was something he needed to settle before the team departed the village.
He knocked on the door and heard a voice telling him to enter. Inside, he found an elderly man sitting in a chair. It was the Village Chief.
“How did the Commission turn out?”
The Chief spoke without even turning around.
“It’s been resolved. The Variant won’t appear again. Never.”
In that instant, Seol Jihoo caught the Chief’s expression harden visibly.
“…I’m grateful. But for just a day or two’s work, you look terrible. The Variant must have been strong.”
“You can tell even without looking at me.”
Seol Jihoo smiled faintly and fixed the Chief with a steady gaze.
“Well, that’s hardly surprising for a mage of considerable renown.”
The Village Chief’s face remained impassive. He simply sat in his chair, eyes closed in quiet contemplation—or so it seemed.
Not the slightest movement. He held his silence for a long while, until Seol Jihoo began to wonder if time itself had stopped. Then the old man broke the stillness and spoke.
“…You killed it?”
“Yes.”
Against all expectation, the old man’s reaction was calm. There was something bittersweet about it, perhaps even a lightness to his expression.
“I see.”
His tone had shifted to something more casual, more direct. Yet it felt so natural that Seol Jihoo felt no particular resistance to it.
“Just as I thought. From the moment you brought up the laboratory, I had my suspicions. Perhaps you were testing me to see what you could learn about my identity.”
“I won’t deny it.”
“How did you find out? All records related to my past should have been erased by now.”
“Before I answer that, I think there are some things I need to hear from you first.”
The Village Chief said nothing. Seol Jihoo took a seat in the chair beside the old man.
“First of all.”
After collecting his thoughts for a moment, Seol Jihoo posed his question.
“What was that cave? A laboratory?”
“A laboratory, you say… I suppose it could be seen that way. Though to be precise, I’d call it a hideout.”
Seol Jihoo nodded slowly. Yes, hideout made more sense.
“So you created a hideout for the Nest near the village, Chief.”
“I say ‘created,’ but I didn’t build it myself. It’s more accurate to say it was built for me.”
“Built for you?”
Seol Jihoo tilted his head. Was the old man playing with words?
“The Nest hideout was built by the villagers themselves.”
What on earth did that mean?
“Are you saying the villagers were accomplices?”
“Mind your words. Is it a crime to seek the means of survival?”
The old man protested mildly. Seol Jihoo turned the phrase over in his mind, slowly piecing things together.
“So what you’re saying is, after the containment order, you fled here to this village and settled down. And you continued your research. The village elders discovered what was happening and helped support your work.”
“Sharp. I’ve always liked clever people.”
The Village Chief smiled faintly.
“We simply found that our interests aligned.”
He exhaled slowly and continued.
“I wanted to produce results and find my way back somehow. And the people here needed a means to protect their village from enemy invasion at all times. Does that make sense to you?”
Laman Village lay near the frontier. In other words, its residents wanted military protection against Parasite invasions that could come at any moment. Understanding that much made the situation somewhat comprehensible, though…
“Still, it’s shocking that the villagers cooperated so readily. There are children here.”
“That’s the nature of these times.”
The old man’s voice continued.
“When survival is at stake, there is no distinction between good and evil. The just and the wicked alike gather under one banner and join forces. It remains so even now.”
“There were other options—relocation, perhaps.”
“It’s difficult to abandon land you’ve lived on for decades… but I won’t resort to such tired platitudes.”
The old man laughed bitterly.
“The truth is, there’s nowhere else to go. We don’t live outside the cities by choice, you understand.”
“Your admission was refused?”
“Mere visitation would be possible. Residence is not. But there’s no point complaining about it. Every city has limits to its capacity, after all. When they’re struggling just to look after the Earthians, how can they spare concern for the likes of us?”
There was an unmistakable edge to the old man’s words.
“But that doesn’t mean we’re willing to simply resign ourselves to death. Every human wants to live, and the people of this village are no exception. That’s why they accepted me.”
The old man’s tone seemed less to blame Laman Village than to defend it. Seol Jihoo posed his next question.
“Did the research succeed?”
“It failed.”
The old man answered without hesitation, his voice tinged with regret.
“The Empire already knew the problems. And so did I. But I was caught up in the foolish dream that I couldn’t end it like this.”
“The problems being…?”
“More than one or two. Weaponizing a Nest required considerable time, and control had its limits. Poor efficiency, you might say.”
The old man paused and asked a question of his own.
“You asked me once, didn’t you? Why the caliber of the commissioned teams kept increasing.”
“Yes.”
“I was stung by that question then. The answer is simple: to make it learn.”
“Learn?”
“A newborn Nest is like an infant who knows nothing. Parasites operate under a unique command hierarchy centered on a queen at the apex. They’re interconnected like a spider’s web, each with its designated role, information flowing between them—but no matter how much I studied, I could never decipher that structure.”
Now that he thought about it, the Variants born from the Nest had taken a form closer to human. Not Medusa, not Bug, not Cockroach. Seol Jihoo, driven by pure curiosity, pressed further.
“Then the experiment wasn’t a complete failure, was it? You’ve proven the Nest can learn. If the Empire had stepped in, you might have shortened the timeline considerably.”
The old man blinked, seeming taken aback by such reasoning from a young man. A moment later, his expression turned bitter.
“Didn’t I say? There were limits to controlling it.”
He rose slowly and retrieved a small box. When he opened it with a click, a dark, grimy stone came into view—no larger than a child’s fist.
Seol Jihoo examined it closely. It looked like black jelly.
“What is it?”
“Ludium. The quintessence of Alchemy, you might say. Think of it as the core mineral that controls the Nest.”
“That’s possible?”
Seol Jihoo’s eyes gleamed with interest. The old man seemed to approve—he let out a dry chuckle.
“I’d explain, if you wish. Even if your Mage-Engineering knowledge is only half of what mine is, I’m confident I could make you understand within a week.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Let me live. I’d rather not die mid-explanation.”
The old man spoke matter-of-factly, his gaze fixed on the box.
“It’s already shrunk this much. And I’ve been careful with it, too….”
“Without Ludium, control becomes Impossible?”
“That’s the gist of it. Creating it is no easy feat, but finding the source mineral in the first place is like plucking stars from the sky. And it’s not permanent—it’s consumed with use….”
His words trailed off. But the rest didn’t need to be spoken; Seol Jihoo could infer it. He opened his mouth.
“So you continued your research while controlling the Nest with the remaining Ludium.”
“That’s right.”
“And because of me, the village’s hope vanished.”
“That’s not so.”
The old man shook his head.
“The research failed long ago. It wasn’t your fault.”
“But you didn’t give up.”
“Unless there was no choice. Since I’d come this far, I couldn’t bring myself to let go. Call it stubbornness if you like. That’s all it was.”
…….
“Pointless self-recrimination only makes me pathetic, so spare me. Anyway, do you have more questions?”
“Two more, actually.”
The old man gestured with his chin for him to proceed.
“The entrance hidden by the hill showed no signs of use in recent years. But they say there were traces of people deeper inside the cave.”
“Simple enough. Didn’t you wonder if there might be a secret passage connecting the cave to somewhere else—a way to avoid prying eyes?”
The old man chuckled and tapped the floorboards with his foot—tap, tap.
“And the second?”
“If you ran out of Ludium entirely, what were you going to do?”
“Turn myself in to the Royal Family. Though I thought I’d have enough for one or two more uses.”
The old man spoke plainly.
That was all there was to hear. As Seol Jihoo rose to his feet, a small pouch flew toward him. It made a jingling sound—his payment.
“I may as well pay what’s owed.”
Then he opened his mouth heavily.
“So, what becomes of me now?”
“…I’m not certain.”
“Will you kill me where I stand? Or perhaps report me to the Royal Family and have them issue a Bounty?”
Seol Jihoo watched the chuckling old man with still eyes. In truth, he’d come out of curiosity, with no clear intention of what to do. Cho Hong had been badly hurt, yes—but it was hard to blame the old man for that.
After a moment’s reflection, Seol Jihoo spoke quietly.
“Village Chief. There’s something I’m truly curious about.”
The old man sighed.
“Don’t people around you often call you troublesome?”
…….
“Tsk. Go on.”
“Why?”
“Hmm?”
“The Empire and Delphion Kingdom have fallen. There’s no need to hide anymore. Someone of your caliber would be valued in any kingdom, so why stay in this small village?”
The Village Chief closed his mouth. His interlaced fingers twitched slightly—his index fingers drumming against each other. After a moment, he spoke.
“Because this was a place that needed me and my research.”
The old man smiled gently.
“Because here, I had a place to belong.”
Those words—a place that needed him, a place to belong—struck something in his chest.
“…I see.”
Seol Jihoo nodded slowly, then turned to go. It was answer enough to settle his course of action.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes. Oh, and there’s one thing you owe me.”
“What debt?”
“I’ll keep quiet about this whole affair.”
“I paid you already.”
“That was the commission fee. Honestly, it wasn’t nearly enough.”
The old man chuckled at his forthright manner.
“I like a man who keeps his accounts straight. But by that logic, you owe me something too, don’t you?”
“?”
“My identity. How on earth did you figure it out?”
“I guessed.”
“Don’t give me that nonsense.”
Seol Jihoo looked uncomfortable.
“Well… it feels wrong just handing it over. I went through quite a bit of trouble solving this mystery myself.”
“You’re really going to do this?”
“How about this instead? I’ll give you a hint and you figure it out.”
The old man let out an amused snort.
“Ha! A riddle for a prodigy of Delphion Kingdom? This is entertaining. I like it.”
“No backing out now.”
“Go on then.”
“What has nine eyes?”
“Nine… what?”
In an instant, the old man’s face went blank.
His curiosity had been satisfied. Seol Jihoo smiled faintly, bowed politely, and left the house.

When Seol Jihoo returned to the inn, he faced unexpected bad news: Mikhail had failed to secure a carriage. It made sense—a small village like this wouldn’t have a steady stream of passing merchants. In the end, they would have to walk back.
The team departed Laman Village in the afternoon. Though Seol Jihoo wanted to wait until Cho Hong regained consciousness, they had to consider Maria’s condition—she needed to reach the Temple and undergo treatment as soon as possible.
After marching through the evening and into the night, they set up camp at a suitable location.
Dinner was lively. Cho Hong hadn’t yet regained consciousness, but her condition had visibly improved. Color was returning to her ashen cheeks, and her breathing was steady—a weight lifted. According to Maria, she might open her eyes before nightfall.
And they’d solved the mystery too. In its own way, it felt like a triumphant return, and the mood wasn’t poor at all—except for Maria’s markedly low spirits.
Cho Hong opened her eyes just as the team finished dinner and was heading into the tent. She emerged from her sleeping bag, pressing her forehead, and her eyes widened when she saw Seol Jihoo keeping watch alone by the fire.
Sensing movement, Seol Jihoo looked up—his eyes went wide too. He lurched to his feet, his mouth falling open. Intense joy spread across his face.
“Cho Hong!”
“H-hey, what’s going on?”
Cho Hong looked confused.
“You’re awake—”
As Seol Jihoo hurried toward her, something odd flickered across his eyes. He cleared his throat awkwardly, then spoke with forced casualness.
“What do you mean, what’s going on?”
“Where is this? Weren’t we in a cave?”
“A cave?”
Seol Jihoo looked at her as if she’d said something ridiculous.
“What are you talking about? You haven’t slept it off yet? We’re on the way to Laman Village.”
“What?”
Cho Hong gasped.
“We agreed to take a commission for Laman Village. Hunt down the mutants and find the source if we can.”
“Wait, wait a minute.”
Cho Hong squeezed her eyes shut, cradling her temples in both hands.
“Damn it… what’s happening? We’re on the way to Laman Village?”
She looked around frantically, her brow furrowing in bewilderment.
Suddenly, her eyes flew open and she drew a sharp breath. Her pupils trembled, unfocused.
“…Is that…what happened…?”
A reversal in time? Or was it a dream? She seemed to come to some realization, murmuring—
“Listen, we have to go back.”
She stepped closer and spoke with urgency.
“If we keep going like this, we’ll die.”
“Wh-what? What are you suddenly saying?”
“Just listen to me. I know it sounds insane, I know it’s out of nowhere, but we need to turn back to Haramag. We have to.”
“No. I’m going. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this commission?”
Cho Hong struck her chest in frustration.
“God, this is driving me crazy! That’s why—!”
Then Cho Hong stopped mid-sentence. In front of her, Seol Jihoo was struggling to suppress a smile.
“You…?”
Cho Hong’s eyes went wide as saucers. She grabbed her own hair and yanked it up. It was silver.
“Oops.”
He bolted.
“You bastard!”
Cho Hong tore after him like a shot.
“Ha ha ha ha!”
“Hold it right there!”
The moment she grabbed Seol Jihoo by the back of the neck and he tumbled backward, she straddled him like mounting a horse, planting herself firmly on his waist.
“You think it’s funny playing around with people?”
“I’m glad.”
Seol Jihoo, breathing hard, looked up at the snarling woman and broke into a radiant smile. That luminous grin made Cho Hong falter.
“I’m glad you woke up. Do you have any idea how worried I was?”
“What…”
His eyes were serious, his voice genuine. Faced with the tender gaze rising from below, Cho Hong blinked. She looked away and felt heat crawl up the back of her neck. But it lasted only a moment. Soon she scowled and let out a sharp cry.
“What’s this sneaky move, trying to slip past me like that!?”
“Wait, wait…!”
Seizing him by the collar, she began shaking him like a madwoman.
The commotion naturally roused the others from sleep.
Stop! Stop, please!
Can’t you stay still?
Help, I’m dying!
You dare mock me? Huh!?
“…Why is it so loud out there?”
Mikhail rubbed his eyes and sat up. Veronica, already awake, had a sleepy face but was peering outside with gleaming eyes.
I’m done for!
Fine! Let’s both die! I really will finish you off!
“Huh? That’s Cho Hong’s voice, isn’t it?”
Mikhail was startled as he looked out of the tent. Though he could only see their backs, Cho Hong’s body, straddling Seol Jihoo, was shaking violently back and forth.
“Outdoor play… Whew! Those hip movements are deadly.”
Mikhail watched Seol Jihoo with envious eyes, then swallowed hard and glanced sideways at Veronica. She shot him a coy look, but the slight upturn at the corners of her mouth suggested she was quite pleased about something.
Shortly after, the sounds drifting from outside and from within the tent began to form a kind of symphony, echoing across the area.
And in the middle of the night, too—as they say, when fortune strikes twice.
Maria, sleeping alone in a separate tent, was utterly flabbergasted. She felt as though she could see the ghost of reason itself running away before her eyes.
Eventually, she drew her sleeping bag over her head with a miserable expression and blocked her ears.
“…Damn it…”

(To be continued in the next episode)

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