⚠️ Warning ⚠️
The content of this chapter references sociopolitical
conditions and the vulnerability of communities in
southern Korea 🌏.
It does not seek sensationalism; the entire story is
fiction 📖.
Reader discretion is advised 👀.
✍️ Author's Note:
Apologies for the absence of chapters these past days ⏳.
I am saving up to buy my graphic tablet 🎨.
In two or three days, I will upload four chapters in a row 🚀.
All of this is for you 💛,
keeping the promise I made.
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The sunset bled out between the trees
of the hidden forest of Vermont.
Its colors seeped through the branches,
staining the air with a melancholy that spoke
only in feelings, in longing.
The wind tangled itself in the treetops,
leaving behind a faint whistle, like the murmur
of small flutes lost in the distance.
A delicate sound, almost fragile, as if it existed
only to keep company with the young woman
seated in one of the towers,
waiting—without haste, without certainty—
for something to cross the entrance.
Dánae remained motionless.
Her eyes were fixed on the horizon, empty,
too wide open, as if instead of looking
she were waiting for an answer.
The wind brushed her face, but she did not react.
Her lips barely moved, letting slip a murmur
as fragile as the whistle among the branches:
"Easy…" she told herself.
"They'll come. They'll come."
She did not know whether those words were a promise,
a plea…
or only a desperate attempt not to listen
to the forest when it fell silent.
As the hush of the heights sealed the end of the day,
Nuriel and Adelaida watched from afar,
never taking their eyes off Dánae.
It was Adelaida who broke the calm:
"She misses Kamei-san… and Jack."
Nuriel nodded.
"We all miss them."
He paused briefly before continuing:
"But I've never seen her like this.
She doesn't play, she doesn't talk. She just waits…"
"And that's what's frightening."
Silence closed in around them once more.
Dánae kept staring at the entrance,
as if time itself had chosen to stop
inside her eyes.
The sunset died completely, and the forest remained
suspended,
turned into a mute omen of a cruel fate.
Very far from there, in South Jeolla, South Korea,
Jack stopped when he saw the girl crying, alone,
her shoulders drawn inward.
He crouched down in front of her.
"Tell me, why are you crying? What's wrong?"
The girl shook her head, breathing in short gasps.
She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve,
unable to stop the tears.
"They… they hit me," she murmured.
Jack waited a few seconds before asking:
"Who?"
The girl hesitated. She looked around,
as if she still feared
someone might be watching her.
"The kids here…" she whispered.
"They didn't want me with them. They pushed me…"
The words broke in her throat.
Jack didn't press her. He lifted her gently
and carried her to the house where
the old woman and Kamei-san were staying.
The old woman received them with a worn face,
dried out from so much crying.
She spoke in a low voice, almost like an apology:
"You won't find many resources here, Kamei-san.
We barely have enough for our own children."
A Christian orphanage helps us care for the village
orphans. Without them… they would go hungry.
Suddenly, a heavy blow shook the door.
"Kamei-san! Kamei-san, open up!"
It was Jack.
Kamei-san took a second to recognize the voice,
until he saw him enter with the girl in his arms.
"Are you speaking Korean?" he asked, surprised.
"That doesn't matter right now," Jack replied.
"Look at her.
She's been beaten… and she's hungry."
The old woman stepped closer at once,
pressing a hand to her chest.
"Oh no… this can't be… what happened to you,
Yeon-shil?"
Jack frowned.
"Of all the girls, she was the only one they
couldn't take. She hid in the house of the man
at the far end of the valley while we searched
everywhere for her," the old woman explained.
"Reckless child. You should've let them take you.
We can't keep you."
"We only have fish… and that doesn't fill
a stomach."
Even so, she handed her a piece of bread
and a bowl of rice.
"Jack, wait for me here," Kamei-san said.
"I'll go to the ship for my medical tools."
The old woman knelt in front of the girl,
softening her voice.
"My dear… what happened to you?"
The girl tried to speak, but her crying came first.
"Chul-soo and his friends… from Mrs.
Young-ja," she managed to say.
"They hit me…"
"Why would they do that?"
"Because I wouldn't let them into my house,"
she answered, trembling.
She brought a hand to her leg and sobbed.
"Ma'am… it hurts."
"What did they hit you with?"
"With… the board from my bed."
Jack looked away. He felt a knot
tighten in his throat.
After that, Kamei-san and Jack took
Yeon-shil to the house to tend to her.
There, the woman of the house—visibly uncomfortable
with the girl's presence—politely asked,
though without hiding her displeasure,
that Kamei-san take care of her elsewhere.
That was how they spent the night.
Trying to bring down the swelling from the blows
and bruises, while also fighting the fever
that was beginning to take hold of
Yeon-shil's body.
Time moved slowly, broken into small attempts
to ease the pain.
When dawn finally came, Yeon-shil was asleep.
For the first time, without startle or fear.
Kamei-san examined her wounds carefully.
There were no fractures, but her leg
was still swollen.
She would have to remain still
for several days.
When she woke up, her voice was barely a whisper:
"I'm cold."
"Well, that's because there's fog this morning,"
Jack replied, adjusting the blanket.
"I won't be able to work like this…"
she murmured.
"I can't move."
"Work?"
"Yes. I help Mr. Deok-su," she explained.
"If I don't… I don't eat."
"Who is he?"
"The fisherman at the pier.
He lets me eat a little if I help him."
Jack smiled at her slowly, without haste.
"Easy. We'll take care of that.
Don't move, okay? I don't want the wound
to get worse."
Meanwhile, Kamei-san went to see
Mrs. Young-ja.
Principio del formulario
Final del formulario
He confronted the children who had
beaten the little girl.
After the scolding, the woman could only offer
a bowl of rice.
There was nothing else.
Jack watched the scene in silence, an idea
growing in his mind.
Bold.
Perhaps reckless.
But necessary.
Kamei-san shook his head when he returned.
"We can't get much here, Jack.
People are barely surviving.
I don't want to take their food.
There's no choice… we have to leave."
"The best thing would be to cross into the
Chinese border," Kamei-san continued.
"At least China isn't in conflict.
Let's leave the girl here. Say goodbye to her."
The words hit him harder than he expected.
Jack remembered Dánae, holding him
until she stopped crying.
He looked at the girl and felt a knot tighten
in his chest.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Yeon-shil," she replied.
In that moment, Jack reaffirmed what he
had been thinking.
Maybe it was only a childish longing,
or could it be a twist of fate?
"Kamei-san… I'm thinking of taking her
with us."
Kamei-san stood still for a moment,
his face expressionless to the eye,
yet betraying fear as he heard
those words.
"No," he replied at once.
"I'm sorry, Jack.
She has to stay."
"Why?" he pressed on.
"Look at this place.
It's empty, exhausted.
They barely have enough to eat.
Do you really think this village
can take care of her?"
He took a deep breath before continuing,
a new firmness in his voice:
"What if that girl were me?
What if you were leaving me behind,
like you always do?"
"That's enough, please," Kamei-san said.
"No," Jack replied.
"You told me you didn't want to repeat
the mistakes of the past, that this time
would be different.
First you abandon people…
and then you blame yourself when
there's nothing left you can do.
This is the moment to act."
"The other children have already been taken
to the orphanage," Kamei-san answered.
"She's the last one."
"We can't take her, Jack.
If you want to help her, we can stay a few days
and then take her to the orphanage…"
"No," he interrupted.
"I want to take her with us.
We'll find the Saint of the Earth,
and then we'll take her to Vermont."
Kamei-san looked at him, incredulous.
"Are you out of your mind?
Taking a child into an armed conflict
is the worst possible decision."
"And leaving her here isn't?" Jack shot back.
"If she goes to the orphanage,
wouldn't that be the same as getting rid of her?"
"Of course not," Kamei-san said sadly.
"An orphanage exists to protect
and preserve the innocence
and well-being of children."
"Are you sure about that?"
Kamei-san hesitated for a moment
before answering:
"She can't come with us."
"Think about it carefully.
There's a reason we came here.
This time it wasn't for food,
it was for someone," Jack said,
almost pleading.
"Please, Kamei-san…"
"Don't you realize that this is exactly
why you always question yourself?
Because of this, you make decisions
that haunt you afterward."
"Jack, enough."
"No," he replied.
"Enough, you."
He knelt in front of Yeon-shil.
"Once, a girl named Dánae hugged me
when I needed it most.
This time, I'm not going to look away.
I'm not going to let this girl
go without that embrace."
He stood up.
"The best way to protect her
is by taking her with us."
This village can barely sustain her.
We can.
Kamei-san fell silent for a moment.
"Why would you do something like that?"
Jack looked at him calmly, already decided.
"Maybe that's why God brought me to this land,
and to the ones we'll visit next.
Maybe there has to be something within us
that pushes us to protect people like
Yeon-shil, people like me."
"I know what it feels like to sleep alone,
Kamei-san.
I know what it's like to wait for your parents
and realize they're not coming back,
and I don't want Yeon-shil to face
that darkness on her own."
"I will be her torch…"
Kamei-san looked at him, bewildered.
He couldn't say why, but the room seemed
to grow slightly warmer in that instant.
Jack reaffirmed his stance before him,
not with violence,
but with a new kind of conviction.
He didn't fully know what he was saying,
but he did know what he wanted to do.
Yeon-shil sensed it as well.
Beyond the change in the air,
she understood something essential:
That man was willing to take her with him
if it meant getting her out of that place.
At that moment, a man entered the house.
"Yeon-shil, let's go to work.
I was thinking of heading out
to open waters today…
I'll teach you how to make hooks."
He stopped when he noticed the discussion.
"And who are you?" he asked cautiously.
It was Mr. Deok-su.
He saw the girl lying in bed.
"My dear, what happened to you?"
"Chul-soo and his friends hit me,"
she replied.
The old man stepped outside with
Kamei-san and Jack
to talk things over.
However, when the old man glanced sideways
at Kamei-san,
he recognized him despite the years.
"I can see you haven't changed at all,
Mr. Kamei-san."
Kamei-san kept a serious expression.
Being recognized by the once-young
Deok-su, after so many years,
caught him off guard,
but it was Yeon-shil's situation
that truly unsettled him.
Before he or Jack could explain themselves,
the old man spoke first.
"Tell me… why did you come here?"
Jack was eager to answer.
"I… well… we're—"
"I asked the immortal, not his son…"
the old man cut in.
Kamei-san looked at Jack and, with a glance,
asked him to step away.
Jack, without a word, went back to the ship,
silent, irritated by the situation.
"Now that he's gone, tell me, Mr. Kamei-san,
how is Yeon-shil?"
"She's all right, but she has bruises and swelling
from the blows those children gave her."
"Ah… now I understand," the old man murmured.
"Those children… they mock her because
she waits for her father."
Yeon-shil did not answer.
She lowered her gaze.
"It's not right to mock something so fragile.
The absence of a father is something that
will follow a person for their entire life…"
He paused briefly, as if he had said too much.
"I know this… because I know very well
what it means to live alone,
to lose everything."
Kamei-san watched him carefully.
"I'm sorry about… your father, Deok-su.
I truly am."
The old man shook his head.
"It no longer matters. I'm too old
to miss the dead…"
"But still too young to ask for nothing,"
he added, looking at him.
"Please."
"Do you remember that my father was the one
who gave you the maritime map and the dagger
for your journey?"
"Yes, I remember…"
"My father gave a great deal to someone
he didn't know, more than to his own son.
But when he died and left me here,
I couldn't go anywhere…"
"The idea of war frightened me…"
"As time passed, and I saw the young men
returning for their families,
I wondered where mine was."
"Yeon-shil hid in my house when
they started looking for her.
I hid her beneath my staircase,
so they wouldn't see her."
"She's a lovely child, but I feel
that if she stays with me,
she'll suffer, just like I did…"
"I'm not asking you to adopt her,
nor to take her to that orphanage."
"No, please. I'm only asking
that you take her out of this village…"
"If I could repay my father's favor,
it would be by taking Yeon-shil
far away from here."
"Something tells me that if I force her
to go just a couple of villages away,
she would want to come back,
and I think she would end up lost
in yet another strange town."
"I know her well enough to know
she'd be capable of running away
from the orphanage."
"Please, I beg you to take her away
from here. She won't be happy
unless someone makes her happy,
and that someone isn't me…"
"I can't take her."
"We're going to Vietnam,
to a war.
If I take her there, she'll be killed…"
"Besides, I can't take responsibility
for a child. I can't grant
your request…"
The old man answered.
"Well, I suppose the life of your son
was worth more than my father's…"
"Tell me, Mr. Kamei-san,
do you have any idea how many people
have asked you for help?
And tell me how many times
you were able to repay that favor
to all those who helped you,
from this village and others…?"
"I'm sorry, Deok-su, I—"
"No, forgive me instead.
I'm being quite unpleasant, aren't I?
That's just how I am.
I've been like this since I was a child…"
"It's all right, Mr. Kamei-san.
I'll forgive you for rejecting my request.
I won't blame you for what happened
to my father."
"You may go now.
I'll take care of Yeon-shil."
"You have nothing left to do here.
You may leave in peace…"
"Listen to me, Deok-su…"
"Enough. Go to another land. Get out.
Yeon-shil will not go with you…
You can't. You've made that clear…"
Kamei-san looked at him without saying a word
and slowly stepped away…
Kamei-san walked toward the ship at a slow pace.
It wasn't exhaustion; it was that ancient weight
that never truly leaves,
it only changes its name.
His thoughts were scattered, like someone
shuffling memories
to avoid touching the right one.
Guilt was there,
but he refused to look it in the eye.
When he arrived, he unpacked supplies:
a little rice,
potatoes, simple things.
Keeping his hands busy helped him not think.
Sometimes, pretending routine
was the closest thing to peace.
"Kamei-san, Kamei-san," Jack said.
"It's fine… I'm sorry.
Maybe you're right.
Maybe we shouldn't interfere."
But Kamei-san was no longer fully there.
Jack's words reached him like water
against the hull:
present, persistent, irrelevant.
His mind drifted among scattered ideas,
concepts that never quite closed,
truths he already knew…
and that still hurt every time.
"You know something, Jack?" he finally said.
"I'm not a bad person.
God knows that…"
He paused for a second.
Even to himself,
the sentence sounded hollow.
"But is that… because I say it?
Or because I truly am not?"
He looked at his own hands.
They were the same
they had been for centuries.
"I'm not a God.
Just a man."
"And no matter how many years I live,
I know I haven't done things right."
He had lived too long
to lie to himself with comfort.
"And when I try to do what's right…
I end up making everything worse.
For everyone. Or for myself."
"I've lived too many lives…
and yet I still can't find a balance
between kindness and justice."
He took a deep breath,
as if the air itself weighed on him.
"I didn't ask for this.
I didn't ask to have such a cruel father."
"I didn't ask for these gifts…
which are more of a burden
than a blessing."
His voice did not tremble.
That was the most unsettling part.
"Where is my freedom…
if I'm bound to the humanity
of my era?"
"I have to change with the centuries…
and what I once believed was good
no longer is."
The world moved forward;
he merely continued.
"Was my mistake continuing to live…
or was it wanting to live comfortably?"
An old question.
Never answered.
"Lives, to me, are like tokens…
interchangeable…
as long as I don't lay them bare."
He fell silent.
That was the closest thing
to a confession
he allowed himself.
"I didn't want to accept that reality…
but the deaths of my families
confirm it."
He clenched his jaw.
"It's hard to believe in a God
who allows such things…"
Jack watched him in silence,
completely lost.
"What the hell is he talking about now?"
"Jack… I'm afraid."
That word carried weight.
"No matter what I do,
how I do it,
or for what purpose…"
His voice dropped lower.
"I always end up here.
At the same point.
With the same question."
"In the duality of wanting to change…
without changing."
"In the ambivalence between love
and revenge."
"In the dyad of death
and war."
"In the binarism of my immortality…
and the mortality of my wives
and children."
"In the antinomy of freedom
and the responsibility of your existence
and your actions…"
The silence that followed was thick.
"I am cruel for existing…
I am evil for being immortal…"
It wasn't an accusation.
It was a diagnosis.
Jack looked at him, unable to say a word.
"If we go around the country and leave her
in a village, we could take her with us…
I don't know why I'm doing this.
Is it because I can't resist
your requests?"
Kamei-san said:
"Look, Jack, I'll tell you something.
The only reason to take her with us
is to avoid adding another burden
to my conscience."
"But taking her is an act of cruelty.
Here, I will bear that sin."
"So that you may be happy, and she too,
or at least, that is my hope."
Jack simply sat down, as if his body
had grown heavy…
and said:
"I'm sorry, Kamei-san, I—"
"Don't apologize… you were right…
I need you on my journey.
I need someone who isn't corrupted
by the evil of this world."
"God did well in giving me you
as my companion…"
"Kamei-san, I—"
"Don't say anything…
just bring Yeon-shil…"
"If God gave you the power
to speak this language,
it was for a reason…"
"Bring her…"