Chapter 15: Yerin’s Journey (5)

As I began speaking and pretended to think seriously, placing my hand on my head, the rabbit-eared girl, looking puzzled, hesitantly opened her mouth.

“…Churupachups Kingdom?”

Got her.

“Yep. The candy you just ate was made in the Churupachups Kingdom. Actually, its name was inspired by the kingdom’s name.”

“Really?”

The rabbit ears on top of her head twitched.

“By the way, how was the candy? Sweet, right?”

“Yes! Human! The moment I put it in my mouth, I felt a wave! Mm-hmm! A wave! Pineapple Man!”

She’s reacting better than I expected. I started this half-serious, half-joking, but with an audience like this, I couldn’t help but get more into it.

(I still don’t know what she means by Pineapple Man, though.)

Now all I had to do was make up a decent story and lure this homeless kid back to my place. Like taking baby formula from a toddler.

“That’s good to hear. But… do you know the sad legend behind this delicious Churupachups candy?”

“A sad legend…?”

“Yeah, a really sad one. Everyone who loves this candy knows it… Don’t you?”

The girl nodded, clearly moved by the candy.

“Do you… really want to know?”

“Tell me, human!”

“Alright, I’ll tell you.”

I took a breath and began—making it up on the spot.

“Long ago, there was a wise King Chups who ruled the Churupachups Kingdom. Under his kind rule, the kingdom

prospered. But nothing lasts forever. As the years passed, he grew old and weak. One day, he collapsed. Many of the

citizens he’d helped came to visit—not to discuss politics, but to express their gratitude. They all knelt down and begged

him to smile once more. Lying in bed, he spoke with a faint voice: ‘What I truly desire is your devotion.’”

When I looked down, the rabbit-eared girl was sitting on the ground, gulping and listening with full attention.

“But no one knew what he truly wished for. As he became bedridden, even the wise king couldn’t suppress the desire

buried deep in his heart. He finally spoke—almost like a lament—knowing it was a wish that could never come true. He

said, ‘I want to eat candy. That sweet, sweet chestn– cough… candy my mother used to make for me before she passed.’

The words spread from the maid to the officials, then to the people. Thus began the Great Confectionery Era. Every

famous baker in the kingdom scrambled to make candy for the king.”

“It was a fierce battle. People got licenses, took tests, failed and tried again… And finally, an unknown pastry chef, who barely had a certificate, succeeded.”

“Could it be?! Human!”

She gasped. I nodded solemnly.

“Yes. The Churupachups candy. The king already knew—no matter what candy he received, it could never be the same as

the one he ate with his mother. That memory was what made it special. So when the baker approached and offered the

candy, the king quietly ate it and said, ‘Memories can’t be revived. But we can create new, warmer memories on top of

them. For me, this candy is that new memory.’ A few days later, he passed away with a smile.”

“Ever since then, people have called it Churupachups candy. To remember the candy he loved, and to honor the king’s memory.”

“S–Such sorrow! I didn’t know Pineapple Man had such a sad story!”

(She’s still talking about Pineapple Man…)

Anyway, I had dragged the story out for this next part.

“I want to give you more, but I can only bring one candy a day. Carrying more would be disrespectful to King Chups.”

At the word one, the girl’s face filled with shock.

“But… what if we do it secretly?”

“Would you ignore the king’s and his people’s wishes?”

“No! I couldn’t! Human!”

Her rabbit ears drooped sadly.

“But actually…” I spoke with a softer tone—it was time to give the rabbit her carrot.

“There is a way…”

“What is it, human?!”

“If you eat it at home, it’s okay. Actually, I have a bit of King Chups’s blood in me, so it’s allowed inside.”

“Then!”

With a warm smile, I nodded.

“If you come home with me, I can give you two—no, three a day. Any more than that and my sister won’t allow it since it’ll rot your teeth.”

“But… I’ve already made things here…”

She’s almost there. Just one last psychological wall.

“There’s also orange flavor, and banana flavor.”

“Orange Man? Banana Man? N–No, wait… This is my territory…”

Her voice trembled, and her ears began spinning like helicopter blades. Clearly, she was reaching her breaking point.

Don’t judge me.

My secret weapon.

“…And also 12 tropical flavors.”

Her eyes started spinning. I could see her mental defenses shatter.

“Twelve…? ”

Stray child acquired!

As Kim Sera walked through the mist, she turned around.

“One, two… seven… twelve, including me.”

Ever since she realized some members had gone missing, she kept manually counting. She found slight comfort in the number remaining unchanged—but still, her expression darkened.

From the 50 original members, fewer than half remained. Now, only 12: four from Blue, seven from the government, and herself from Jeondo.

At first, they had no trouble following the signs. But soon, forks in the path started appearing—two ways, three ways, five ways. The more they walked, the more confusing it got. Some signs were misleading, some tricked you into choosing the wrong way.

There was no clear pattern.

Each time something happened, the number of team members dropped. And the more they disappeared, the more rules Kim Sera wrote into her notebook—so many that even she’d lost count.

No one could say how far this journey would go. The thick mist drained people psychologically.

It was clear—the end was coming.

At the next fork, she watched as a senior scholar walked one way and vanished.

It was his choice. Still, she couldn’t bear to watch. The pen in her notebook cracked in her clenched fist.

No matter how much she tried, you can’t fully suppress emotion. It overflowed, leaking through.

Before vanishing, the man spoke awkwardly.

“…Team Leader Kim Sera.”

“…Why are you doing this?”

She answered his farewell with a question—she couldn’t hold it in.

The senior smiled faintly.

“We argued, yes—but it was academic. Not personal. What matters isn’t power or ego… it’s the pursuit of truth. That’s all I was following. So don’t worry about me. Go forward, Team Leader Kim Sera.”

Then, he turned his head and shouted, “Rookie!”

“Yes! Sir…”

“When I was a rookie, my senior did this for me. Now it’s my turn. This isn’t sacrifice—it’s progress. This is the right path, I believe.”

“B–But how can you gamble your life like that?!”

“That’s… what it means to be a scholar.”

“To seek knowledge, to chase it—even if it means betting your life. That’s a true scholar.”

“So don’t forget your role, rookie. Right now, your job isn’t to cry. Take out your notebook.”

Kim Won-jae quickly pulled out his notebook, startled.

“Record my final moments. If you want to last in this job, you need selfish curiosity, not soft emotions.”

Phew.

“For a short time… it was a pleasure being with you all. Even you, rookie.”

Before his face was completely swallowed by the ground, a flicker of fear showed.

But no one called him a coward.

They couldn’t insult his final moments.

“…Together… really…”

His last words didn’t finish. He was gone before that.

Silence.

Only the sound of pen on paper and someone quietly crying.

Then even that stopped.

It was Kim Sera who broke the silence.

“…Let’s move on.”

A few minutes ago, his words were right.

“Act like a scholar… be a scholar.”

The mist surged around them. Just ahead—it was almost over.

‘Hoo.’

She lifted her eyelids.

A sign and forked road came into view. The final choice.

“Mountain Path – 3km
Beach
[Destination]
Village – 1km”

Only 10 people left.

Mostly rookies.

“I’ve decided.”

Kim Sera exhaled deeply and handed her notebook to Kim Won-jae.

“Eh? Why are you giving this to me?”

“Take it. My hands are shaking.”

As he took it, she tied her long hair up high—she hated mud getting in it.

“There are two paths: village and beach. Earlier I said if the mountain meant earth, the beach meant life. Then the village must represent people. But I’m not sure which path we’re really supposed to take.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t know if our goal is to walk the path of humanity or life. Even the beach might not mean what we think. The signs are ambiguous.”

“Then let me—”

“No. That senior was absolutely right. Scholars should live and die like scholars. I want to be like that too. I want to do something worthy at least once in my life.”

“I’ve summarized everything in that notebook. It contains the blood and sweat of the team. Don’t lose it. If you do, I’ll haunt you.”

“Yes!”

His loud reply made her smile slightly.

She walked toward the village—what she thought was the most dangerous path.

“So it was a trap.”

Her body began to sink.

She had hoped that somehow, she’d survive and meet someone in Seoul. But now it was too late.

‘If I knew I’d die like this…’

She sighed and lay back, looking up at the sky.

A clear blue sky from her childhood.

She couldn’t remember the last time she looked at the sky peacefully.

‘It’s beautiful…
Too beautiful to die under.’

Maybe she should’ve talked to Team Leader Han Yuri.

She’d be heartbroken again if she lost another center director.

“Wait…”

“Did I just think it was clear?”

Looking down, she realized she had stopped halfway through sinking.

Everyone looked confused.

At the edge of the now-cleared mist, the senior scholar stood, looking around as confused as she was.

Their eyes met, and both awkwardly looked away.

…Dying might’ve been cooler than this.

As I led the rabbit-eared girl home, I stopped.

‘Ah… I forgot something.’

“There’s one thing I didn’t tell you…”

“What is it, human?”

“My mom and sister hate when someone snacks before dinner. If they catch you eating anything else, you won’t get any candy after.”

She didn’t reply. When I turned, she was hesitating, then nodded slowly.