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Join the ServerA cool wind blew across the open field, and wildflowers rippled like waves.
As the nameless blossoms scattered, their sound, too, resembled the sea.
The field of wildflowers ended at a cliff, and beyond it a blue ocean spread wide.
The view, enough to open one’s chest just by looking, could truly be called a fine scene.
That must have been why, as his heart softened into warmth, a question he would not normally ask slipped out.
The young man standing beside him blinked and turned to look.
A faint embarrassment crept over his face, which had only just completed his coming-of-age rite.
“What do you mean, Brother?”
“Now that you are an adult.”
At the calm reply, the younger brother turned his head, awkward.
He toyed with a long blade of grass at his fingertips and lingered in thought.
The man watched the wildflower waves sway whenever a breeze came and waited for him to answer.
After a short while, the younger brother plucked a single flower.
“I like flower-like people, Brother.”
“Flowers?”
Shocked by the unexpected answer, the man looked back at his younger brother in a daze.
“Yes. No matter what kind of flower, is it not beautiful enough that you never tire of looking, no matter how often you see it?”
A gust came, scattering blossoms, and his long hair streamed.
Between the locks, black as ebony, his younger brother’s face surfaced: pale, elegant, and yet distinctly masculine.
‘It is you, none other, who are like a flower.’
He had thought it inadvertently but kept it to himself.
Instead, he only whispered a single line that followed his words.
“Someone as beautiful as a flower…”
For a time he silently absorbed the serene view.
Then his eyes dropped to his own hand.
It was a hand that had held a sword all his life, coarse and rough beyond compare.
He looked down at that hand, which no one could call fair, and chuckled.
“Yes, if someone flower-like stood beside you, it would make a perfect picture.”
The younger brother did not answer.
“Once we are home, I will make inquiries about a flower-like person suited to you.”
The man said it with a quiet smile.
His younger brother stared at him, without blinking.
The eyes, black to the point that the pupils were hard to see, wobbled faintly.
Lips that were nice to look at moved slightly, as if to speak.
But soon he smiled quietly and answered, “Yes.”
“Let us go back. If we want to arrive before the sun goes down, we have to ride with haste.”
The man turned away first, not waiting for the answer.
The wind-blown grass, like a wave breaking against the shore, filled his ears.
Following him soon came the regular footsteps of the young man, pattering along.
Relieved, the man headed over to where the horse was tied.
That was the moment.
He felt a hand seize the hem of his robe.
A little surprised, the man looked back.
His younger brother was gripping the edge of his garment and staring at him.
“Brother, I…”
His voice, which had sunk fairly low after the coming-of-age rite, scattered in the wind.
But the wind came on strong, and the wildflowers rushed about, so the man could not properly catch what he said.
Pushing aside the wildly tangled hair, the man raised his eyes with difficulty.
The young man, his face a little flushed for some reason, was still holding his robe and biting his lower lip.
“What was that? The wind is strong enough that I couldn’t hear you well.”
He patted the young man’s shoulder out of regret.
As if startled by the touch, the younger brother flinched and hunched his shoulder.
Taken aback, the man quickly pulled his hand away.
The younger brother’s composed face flushed a little more.
“I said… I told you we should hurry, as you suggested, Brother.”
The younger brother looked down and answered slowly.
The man nodded belatedly and turned around again.
Rustle, rustle. The wildflowers sounded serene.
The footsteps following behind him were quiet, too.
But no hand caught at the man’s robe a second time.
****
The man opened his eyes a thin slit.
The sun was so fine that he must have dozed off.
Even in that short time, he had dreamed.
He stared blankly at the sky, then let out a snicker and shook his head.
A dream? That was absurd.
It had been so long since he stopped dreaming.
It must have simply been an old memory surfacing carelessly.
This place, the Seocheon Flower Field, covered in endless land and mystical blossoms, closely resembled the place kept deep in his heart, after all.
But unlike that memory, the wind did not blow here, and silence reigned on every side.
There, in the memory, strong winds had shaken the wildflowers and produced a cool, refreshing sound.
Nevertheless, whenever he had a spare moment, he came to this place to lie down. That was no doubt because of the memory.
The man lay neatly, propping his head with one hand, and watched the red sky.
Against a cloudless sky, his younger brother’s image, the boyish traces still visible, crossed his mind.
It felt oddly fresh.
The one who remained in his last memory, the younger brother who had frantically called his name with a face drained of blood, was an imposing youth by all counts.
Just as the man unknowingly set his mouth firm, the busy motions of the boy attendants who were drawing water from the Gwangcheon Pond to sprinkle over the flower beds came into view.
The man let out a small sigh.
He wanted to take a little more rest, but if he idled here without cause and got caught, it would only bring him trouble.
Escaping was the wisest option.
He took the sword lying beside him and stood up from the spot, groggy.
At the same time, heavy footsteps came stomping from afar, as if their owner was angry.
The familiar sound made the man click his tongue inwardly and turn his gaze toward the one running up to him.
“Seol-young! What do you intend to do, lounging around here again! Didn’t you see the urgent message just now?”
Sure enough, the man who had rushed here in a huff was Dong-cheon, and he was shouting immediately.
The ears grown accustomed to the calm stung.
The man frowned and looked down at his wrist.
The watch was blinking.
He fiddled with the watch, checked the contents roughly, and then turned his attention to Dong-cheon, who had come up beside him.
“I just saw it.”
“Argh! This is infuriating! Hurry up, I’m telling you, it’s urgent!”
Dong-cheon grabbed his sleeve and pulled.
But the man had no intention of hurrying.
He knew Dong-cheon too well, the way he would make a fuss over a trifle as if a major incident had taken place.
“It can’t be that urgent.”
As the man unhurriedly dusted off his clothes and prepared himself, Dong-cheon stamped his foot.
He even pounded his chest, declaring that he had chosen the wrong partner.
Acting as if nothing had happened, the man simply started to walk in silence.
His steps were neat and unhurried beyond compare.
Yet with every single step, the hem of the black robe he wore flowed behind him, as if caught in a violent wind.
Not only that, the scenery behind him flickered by so quickly it could not be verified.
Even his own shadow was invisible under his feet.
It was as if he was flying without any movement.
The sight was truly strange, but the man maintained a composed posture and kept walking.
In a neat black suit with a long black robe draped over it, he was invisible to the eyes of the living.
Those with sharp ears who caught wind of him would be startled and run away.
It was only natural.
A figure slicing through space with an unruffled face and a blue long sword in hand. He was none other than Cha Seol-young, the underworld agent who cut down ghosts.
The adventure continues! If you loved this chapter, Escaping the Psycho? You Were Hypnotized Into Her Doting Little Wife is a must-read. Click here to start!
Read : Escaping the Psycho? You Were Hypnotized Into Her Doting Little Wife
