72. Is there a hole nearby?
'The Demon-like Judge of Fire says she doesn't know, but will ask the Scribe of Heaven.'
'…That works? You can actually do that? Then why didn't you just do it from the start!' I almost burst out cursing, frustration bubbling up inside me. But honestly, what else could I offer her? I had nothing of real value—nothing beyond a fleeting moment of entertainment for her to enjoy.
"...Thank you," I muttered again, quieter this time.
I felt an urgency pressing down on me, as if I had to improve as quickly as possible. Yet, my days in Forgotten Shores eased that tension, reminding me that it's better to pause and breathe from time to time.
The air there was so much cleaner. In the distorted South Korea, the atmosphere was stifling, and we spent most of our time underground. But Forgotten Shores—its air was a blessing, a stark contrast, like heaven compared to the suffocating gloom of Backlund.
I wondered what Cas was doing right now. Maybe helping Neph with her crusade? I hoped they were succeeding.
That thought naturally brought the others to mind as well.
"Uriel," I called out again, but there was no response—it seemed she wasn't watching me at the moment. "I should ask her about NaRi later," I muttered to myself.
I wandered along the stream with no destination in mind, letting my thoughts slowly fall back into order. From time to time, I stopped just to take in the scenery.
"Well, at least the sun feels nicer," I murmured.
…
And yet, this was all Uriel's fault. Thanks to her, I became suspicious of the Forgotten Shores's sun too.
"Is that so? Even when you can't actually see the sun?"
A sudden voice cut into my thoughts as I paused in the middle of the bridge.
!! I froze, startled by the intrusion into my private monologue.
Slowly, I turned toward the source of the voice…
She was a mature woman, cloaked in a hooded black robe. Around her wrist gleamed a silver bracelet, from which dangled a pendant of white crystal. Heavy makeup adorned her face—blue eyeshadow and a sweep of blush—giving her the air of someone who seized every opportunity to dabble in occultism. Yet, none of it diminished her beauty in the slightest.
As for her figure… well, that was better left unspoken. Even the blind would recognize its magnificence.
"If you stare at the sun directly, its heat will scorch you. But like this—veiled by the smog—you can still feel its warmth, remember its light, and only then truly grasp its greatness."
…What the hell did I just say? Was there a hole nearby? Because I really wanted to crawl into one.
"When you can no longer see it, only then do you truly feel its greatness… I suppose you're right. All that's left is regret."
The woman's reply carried a quiet weight, as though she genuinely understood the clumsy philosophy I had just voiced.
…Why are you dragging this out?!
"There's always cause and effect, but regret… regret is the only 'effect' that never changes."
Ghh… damn it, I can't break character now.
But ma'am, seriously—can we stop? Please? Are you trying to kill me here?!
"Regret always affects…" She paused, lost in thought. "But there are also many things caused by regrets."
I remained silent, mirroring her gaze toward the unseen sun. "That's another way to look at it… I suppose I was too narrow-minded."
"Kill me right now! Just wrap a bag around my head and toss me into the river, please…" I was so embarrassed I didn't think I could ever hold my head high again.
"Hehe," she suddenly let out a soft chuckle. "That was an interesting conversation."
Interesting, my ass!
"Nice to meet you. I'm a spirit medium," she greeted gracefully, despite her attire.
"Nice to meet you too. I'm a shop owner," I replied, matching her politeness with the careful courtesy Mother had drilled into me.
"I wish we could have talked a bit more, but there's no time. I suppose this is another regret…"
…Why are you back to that again? I wish we had never met.
"It's another regret…" I muttered, regretting even stopping here.
"I always spend time here. I would have loved to talk more with you," she said softly.
"My thoughts exactly," I replied, extending my hand toward hers. The next moment, she placed her hand in mine, and I pressed a small kiss atop her gloved fingers.
"Farewell," she whispered, vanishing to who knows where.
I'll have to blacklist this path, no matter what.
I continued my short walk. It would be far too half-hearted to cancel my little tour just because of some embarrassing incident. Not that it was exactly "small," but still… I soon found myself wandering into what looked like a shopping district.
Chicken skewers.
The best food, no matter where you are.
"Stop! Give me back my money!" a shout rang out, followed by a thug-like man in a dirty rag forcing his way through the crowded streets.
"MOVE!" the thief barked at the innocent bystanders—I was one of them. Not wanting to get involved, we quickly veered aside, making way for him.
It felt like we were clearing a track for the predator and the prey to race.
I shielded my eyes with my hand, my pupils splitting into four as usual. Suddenly, the thief screamed in panic, losing his vision before crashing full speed into a vendor's stall.
"Mhm…" I muttered, quietly satisfied with the result, unaware of the ridiculous pose I was striking.