“To me, it’s practically everything.”

Thud!

Oh Hyunseong loaded several boxes of potatoes into the trunk of the car.

Since it was exactly the same assortment as last time, he had asked if she wanted anything else, but she insisted on receiving that many potatoes.

“Thanks for everything this past week.”

“You did all the hard work, Senior. All I did was correct her technique from time to time.”

Han Suyeon chuckled.

With a flick, she slipped on her jacket, transforming from her disheveled appearance back into Han Suyeon, deputy director of the Administration Bureau.

“More than anything, I had fun for the first time in ages. It brought back memories of when we served as instructors at the training camp together. I never thought I’d get another chance to do that.”

“We nearly died back then.”

After they had both ended up hospitalized following an operation, there had been a period when she and Oh Hyunseong served together as instructors at a training camp.

Unlike Oh Hyunseong, who had taught several more classes afterward, however, Han Suyeon had never properly trained anyone again after that single experience.

She would have refused this time as well if Oh Hyunseong hadn’t been the one asking.

“Thanks to you, I got a chance to breathe. It’s time for me to go back.”

An entire week had already passed since she had come down here without permission.

She had notified them before leaving, but it had been nothing more than a one-sided message sent at the crack of dawn, so things had probably descended into chaos in her absence.

It had been an extremely impulsive decision, but it had given her room to breathe. Now it was time to return and deal with the aftermath.

“And it’s fine if you let other people stay at the house, but make sure you keep a place open for me. Got it?”

“Sure, sure. I’ll leave one room open for you, so come down whenever you feel like it.”

“Thanks.”

Han Suyeon smiled and climbed into the car.

Just then, Oh Hyunseong leaned slightly toward the open window.

“Before you go, could I ask you one last favor?”

“Hmm? What sort of favor could our esteemed instructor possibly have for me?”

“I think I’ll need to borrow the power of our deputy director.”

The situation with Joo Jihye had reminded him that the strawberries being supplied to the department store could still cause trouble.

Of course, he had laid down strict terms at the contract stage, and he had confirmed that Park Jeongtae was determined to maintain absolute secrecy until the end.

But Park Jeongtae was only the employee in charge.

No matter how responsible he was, he remained a salaried employee. If a decision came down from higher management or they applied pressure, he would ultimately have no choice but to comply.

But what if someone with more influence than the department store’s president—or even the chairman of the conglomerate—intervened from above?

Everything would be settled cleanly.

Naturally, only someone of Han Suyeon’s stature could fill that role.

“Hmm... I don’t particularly like interfering in civilian affairs.”

“So, can you do it?”

“Fine. In a way, we’re bound together by our shared need for potatoes.”

“You make our relationship sound remarkably pathetic.”

“Haha! See you next time, Senior.”

After Joo Jihye and Han Suyeon had both left, Oh Hyunseong enjoyed the silence that had finally returned to his lively home.

Even the siblings next door, who normally visited or contacted him from time to time, had been quiet lately.

Since the last incident, they had been busy dealing with the damage to their farm and had no time to contact him.

That was also why he hadn’t encountered them during Joo Jihye’s training over the past several days.

Still, I’m glad Seungsu seems to have recovered his spirits.

They had suffered not only from the damaged crops but also from the substantial losses caused by the interruption to their business. Fortunately, being officially designated as a preferred farm by Hangyeong Department Store had given them renewed strength.

On top of that, the strawberry boom had increased demand for naturally grown produce. The department store had even placed additional orders for other crops, which they said would ease their financial difficulties as well.

The siblings were persevering in every respect.

“Then I suppose I should get going too.”

Oh Hyunseong had finished the day’s farmwork in no time and had some room in his schedule. He gathered his luggage, shouldered his backpack, and left the house.

Normally, he would have followed the road downhill toward the village. This time, however, he headed in the opposite direction, even though he wasn’t going to the secret field.

His destination was somewhere entirely different from usual.

The village elders told me there’s an old reservoir beyond the mountain behind the village.

Not long after leaving his vast private property, the gentle path ended, giving way to a roadless forest.

Oh Hyunseong crossed the mountain ridge and arrived near his destination.

“Looks like I found it.”

Yellow tape warning people to keep out greeted him from every direction.

It had been strung up without the slightest regard for the surrounding scenery or environment, and even the tape itself was worn and dangling loosely.

The atmosphere was obviously anything but ordinary.

The government had designated this place a Restricted Area.

During the early stages of the Gate crisis, humanity’s lack of information had prevented proper initial responses.

These days, Gates were detected immediately and hunters were dispatched at once. Back then, however, numerous Gates had been neglected, allowing monsters to run rampant and leaving many areas contaminated by impure energy.

This was one such place.

Rustle!

Ignoring the tape, he stepped inside. It wasn’t long before he found the reservoir he had been searching for.

It could hardly be called large, but it covered a greater area than he had expected.

Dense undergrowth surrounded it, and the location was so remote that an outsider would have had virtually no chance of finding it.

Oh Hyunseong approached the reservoir, knelt on one knee, and examined the water.

Just as I heard, the water quality is abysmal. It’s heavily contaminated by impure energy.

There was a reason the area remained restricted.

A great deal of the impure energy had settled over the years, but once water became contaminated, it did not recover easily.

“Do you think you can purify this place too?”

Whine.

The water spirit poking out of his pocket shook its head.

Oh Hyunseong smacked his lips in disappointment.

“As expected, this is too much for you.”

Just as the earth spirits removed impure energy from the ground and created healthy fields, he had thought the water spirits might be able to purify the reservoir.

But the contamination here was far worse than in ordinary soil, which was why the area remained restricted.

It was beyond the purifying abilities of his current spirits.

Still, since I’m already here... I might as well check its condition.

Oh Hyunseong took out the fishing rod he had brought.

Fishing wasn’t a serious hobby of his, but he had done it several times before and knew the basics.

He found a suitable spot and sat down to wait. Before long, he felt a bite and reeled in a fish.

“Oh, a crucian carp.”

A smile appeared on his face at the familiar tug on the line.

The fish was embarrassingly small, but a catch was still a catch.

Once he lifted the crucian carp and examined it from every angle, however, he realized it had serious problems.

The fish was riddled with disease.

Its condition was so obvious that even a complete amateur could see it. Taste wasn’t the issue—it was hardly fit for consumption at all.

Eating something like this would probably take ten years off my life. This definitely won’t work.

Oh Hyunseong released the crucian carp and let out a deep sigh.

This was why he had brought the water spirit all the way out here.

Just as crops grown without exposure to impure energy possessed exceptional flavor, he had reasoned that fish raised in a clean, uncontaminated environment would be equally delicious.

It was an important matter that could have greatly expanded the range of ingredients available to him.

He hadn’t come completely unprepared for this possibility, but he had still allowed himself to hope, which made the disappointment all the greater.

What a shame. A remote place no one ever visits would be perfect as my own private source of ingredients.

Seeing the place in person only deepened his regret.

He considered whether there might be another way.

But no matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn’t think of a suitable answer.

Chime!

Just then, his phone rang.

When he checked the screen to see who it was, he found a message from Joo Jihye.

Contrary to her own fears, she had finished filming without incident. The lengthy message was filled with stories about herself and expressions of gratitude.

She had even attached a playfully posed selfie at the end.

“She looks like a completely different person compared to the first day.”

Oh Hyunseong chuckled, sat down, and gazed at the sun slowly setting in the distance.

Bathed in the glow of sunset, the mountain reservoir at least offered a magnificent view from the outside.

The water spirit seemed to enjoy the sight as well. It made delighted noises as it rolled around atop his head.

Come to think of it, the sky looked exactly like this back then.

Oh Hyunseong admired the sunset for a while before releasing a quiet sigh.

“I hope this allows both of you to let go of at least some of what has been holding you back. Joo Jihye... and you too, Choi Jeongil.”

Thump!

“Whew. I’m exhausted.”

Choi Jeongil entered his office and dropped heavily into his chair.

He had just returned from an overseas engagement.

The meetings with European leaders that he had been preparing for over the past several months had concluded successfully, and the employees who had accompanied him had returned with bright expressions.

Choi Jeongil himself, however, couldn’t hide the turmoil on his face.

The time... Filming should be finished by now.

Choi Jeongil glanced at the clock.

He was thinking about Joo Jihye, who should have returned to Seoul and completed her drama schedule that day.

She refuses to listen, even though pushing herself will only make her condition worse.

Joo Jihye had stubbornly continued with her schedule even after developing the aftereffects.

Her insistence was also the only reason this drama shoot had gone ahead.

Under normal circumstances, Choi Jeongil would have applied pressure if necessary to prevent her from overexerting herself.

But this time, even he had been unable to stop her.

An inescapably bleak future lay ahead.

Her words—that stopping now would make it feel as though everything were truly over—continued to echo in his mind.

Even at that very moment.

I’ve concealed her symptoms from the public as much as possible, but someday the world will learn that she’s showing the warning signs of psychosis. No... The government agencies may already know.

If her psychosis became imminent, Joo Jihye would be disposed of.

Not even Choi Jeongil, with his vast financial resources and network, could prevent that future.

The issue involved far more than one or two lives, so he could not selfishly act for her sake alone.

“Just like before... there’s nothing I can do.”

Choi Jeongil stared blankly out the window.

His senior, Oh Hyunseong, had taken her away under the pretext of treatment, but even he had said that he was only testing a possibility and could promise nothing.

Frankly, it would be impossible without a miracle.

And as though to demonstrate the cruelty of reality, that miracle had never once appeared.

Riiing!

Just then, his phone rang.

It was Joo Jihye’s manager.

“...Director!”

“What happened? Did she cause another incident?”

“N-No! It’s the opposite! A miracle happened!”

“What are you talking about?”

Her manager had witnessed everything that happened to her that day.

She had completed filming flawlessly. She had shown no signs of psychological aftereffects such as anxiety or fatigue. Above all, her personality had changed.

She was just as she had been a year ago, before her injury.

“She suddenly changed that much? In only one week?”

“I couldn’t believe it even while I was watching her!”

The news was almost impossible to believe.

But the man had been Joo Jihye’s manager since before her injury. There was no way he could have failed to recognize the change in her.

Choi Jeongil’s eyes shook violently.

He could barely hear the manager continuing to speak.

Did Senior... really accomplish it?

After ending the call, Choi Jeongil remained frozen in place for a long time.

He would have to examine her himself to determine her precise condition, and it could still be a temporary improvement rather than a complete cure.

But even if that were true, it changed nothing.

Despite pouring everything he had into the search, he had never found even the faintest clue. Yet Oh Hyunseong had brought forth the miracle that had seemed as insubstantial as a mirage—the very miracle whose absence had tormented Choi Jeongil without end.

Click.

He turned and opened a drawer in his desk.

Then he carefully lifted out a faded photograph lying facedown inside.

It was a group photograph of Oh Hyunseong, Han Suyeon, and their former team members dressed in black operational uniforms.

In one corner stood Choi Jeongil himself, wearing a stern expression, beside a woman who had her arms folded and was smiling brightly.

“”

Choi Jeongil bowed his head, his shoulders trembling.

No sound emerged. Only silence continued, yet he remained there for a very long time.

Chapter 21

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