“Miss Geuru, you know there used to be a ‘Tower,’ don’t you?”
Geuru nodded.
The Great Cataclysm.
The time when monsters and dungeons no one had ever seen before appeared, along with people who possessed special powers.
The Tower had risen exactly two years after that time, when the chaos had yet to subside.
It could be seen from any country, and entered from anywhere.
People called it the “Tower.”
Without even giving them time to properly find out what it was, the Tower began counting down to the destruction of humanity.
Back then, neither Awakenings nor dungeons had stabilized yet, making it an era of extreme confusion.
However, through the countless sacrifices of the first-generation Awakeners, the Tower was conquered in three years, and now the terrifying existence of the Tower had been reduced to a common subject in children’s storybooks.
As someone experienced in raising two sons, Yun Seojun skillfully soothed Geuru and continued his explanation.
“Miss Geuru, the Guildmaster is actually a hero who fought a terrifying monster in the Tower.”
A hero? Geuru sniffled and listened to his story.
“Would you like me to show you?”
When Yun Seojun raised his hand, pitch-black shadows gathered and scattered before her eyes, forming shapes of their own.
‘Waaah…….’
Geuru’s eyes grew round, and Seojun smiled gently.
Seojun’s shadow formed a huge Tower and human figures, then began a puppet show.
The terrifying Tower had a hundred floors, and the first-generation Hunters, including Jurim, endured difficult battles to reach the ninety-ninth floor.
Before their fallen comrades, Jurim’s puppet shouted.
‘Everyone, hang in there! We can conquer the Tower soon!’
But the monster guarding the ninety-ninth floor was stronger than all the demons of the Tower they had faced so far combined. There was no way they could defeat it with their strength.
Even so, they could not retreat. For the sake of the world, they had to stand up.
Then, Jurim decided to sacrifice himself. He sealed the master of the ninety-ninth floor within his own body.
‘Leave me and go to the hundredth floor!’
At Jurim’s words, one of his comrades headed for the hundredth floor.
The moment he stepped toward the hundredth floor, the shadows scattered.
“And so, a terrifying power came to dwell in the Guildmaster’s left hand. It eats away at the Guildmaster’s mana every single day, and if he uses too much power, a lot of mana drains out all at once. That’s why the Guildmaster has fallen asleep now.”
After finishing the puppet show, Seojun wiped her runny nose with a handkerchief.
“Sniff, if there’s no mana, do you hafta sleep?”
“Because that’s the fastest way to recover mana.”
The sleeping Jurim was breaking out in a cold sweat, as if tormented by a dreadful nightmare.
He looked to be in terrible pain.
“Then what do we hafta do?”
“He’ll get better if he rests well, so don’t worry, Miss Geuru, and you should go night-night too. It’s happened a few times before, so he’ll wake up soon this time as well. Shall I read you a storybook in your room?”
Geuru shook her head.
“I wanna stay here…….”
Geuru lay down on her side by Jurim’s head and curled herself into a little ball.
Seojun smiled bitterly, brushed Geuru’s hair aside, and rose from his seat.
“But, Chief. How many nights does the Guildmaster hafta sleep before he wakes up?”
Ah, that was……. He wet his lips.
The last time Jurim had taken off his glove was a year ago, to stop a Dungeon Break—a phenomenon in which monsters poured out of a dungeon.
He had saved hundreds of thousands of lives, but Jurim had slept for an entire month.
Unable to tell her the truth, Seojun avoided Geuru’s gaze and stammered.
“He’ll probably wake up after just two nights.”
Then, saying it was nap time and that she should get some sleep, he gave them some privacy.
Click—
When the door closed, Geuru wriggled her way deep into Jurim’s arms and lay there.
It was the first time in her life she had seen an adult look so exhausted and in so much pain.
She was so worried, and her chest ached so much, that tears and snot kept streaming down endlessly.
Was there nothing Geuru could do?
[Emergency quest generated for a child anxious due to the absence of her primary caregiver!]
[To wake your mana-depleted primary caregiver, a child’s touch is needed! Let’s be filial to your primary caregiver with your very own filial piety skill, “Geuru’s Hands Are Healing Hands.”]
[Reward: 500 Filial Piety Points]
‘……!’
That’s right, there was that!
*
Yun Seojun picked up Geuru’s kids’ phone from the living room and placed it on the table.
The matter of the master of the ninety-ninth floor was something only a handful of people in the guild, including himself, knew about, but if it was Geuru, then it was a story she ought to know.
In truth, even the explanation he had given Geuru had been embellished by Seojun. Jurim hardly ever opened his mouth about that incident.
‘Has it already been five years?’
He sat on the sofa, gazing at the Han River, and sank into thought.
After the Tower was conquered, the joint funeral altar for the first-generation heroes was packed with people.
After paying his respects at the altar and coming out, Jurim could not take a single step past the entrance. Countless reporters thrust cameras at him as if they meant to devour him.
“Please say a word as the survivor!”
“What happened in the Tower?”
Questions poured down all at once, so many that it was difficult to make them out.
“For the sake of the bereaved families, please tell us what happened!”
Everyone wanted a word from the sole survivor, thrusting microphones toward him, while flashes went off without pause in an attempt to capture his face.
Jurim stared at them with eyes like clouded glass beads.
“We—no, I…… did not reach the hundredth floor.”
The crowd stirred.
“Hunter On Jurim! What do you mean by that—”
—With a bumpy, stylish body~ Wearing red clothes~ Giving off a sweet and sour scent~ A dashing tomato~
At the cute ringtone that broke his train of thought, Seojun let out a small laugh.
When he checked, a call was coming in on Geuru’s kids’ phone.
The caller displayed on the screen was the Awakener Registration Center.
“The Center?”
Seojun glanced once at the door to Jurim’s room, then answered in her stead.
“This is Chief Yun Seojun, Miss Han Geuru’s representative. What is this regarding?”
*
The moment Jurim opened his eyes, he felt as though he were being squeezed by a warm, soft slime.
“……?”
He creakily turned his head toward the direction of the baby formula smell he had now grown used to. Sure enough, something soft and squishy was clinging tightly to his arm.
“……Han Geuru.”
“Yesh.”
“My arm, for a moment. I can’t get up.”
Geuru squeezed even tighter and shook her head.
Hmm. Jurim narrowed his eyes in a troubled manner. She was so small and soft that he couldn’t put any strength into his arm for fear of hurting her.
“…….”
He was powerless.
It felt strangely unreal that he could not budge at all, unable to resist the harmless violence of a four-year-old.
And that was not all. Looking at the tiny creature sniffling and snuffling made him feel as though he were being driven further and further into a corner.
“Were you worried?”
“Lots an’ lots…….”
When she answered tearfully, as if she might burst into tears at any moment, Jurim hurriedly detached Geuru from him and sat her in front of him.
Her coral-colored eyes stared blankly at him. Sniff. The child inhaled through her nose again.
‘What am I supposed to do with this?’
Handling children and soothing them were both entirely unfamiliar fields to him.
Jurim scraped together every bit of nonexistent experience he had and organized the things he could do.
1. Give her cookies.
2. Give her food.
3. Give her snacks.
It was beyond narrow—practically impoverished.
He erased all the options that had come to mind. It wasn’t as though he were raising a pet.
Phew. Hiding his embarrassment and awkwardness, he swept back his hair.
“I’m sorry. I should have explained things properly to you too.”
“Hic. Chief told me. Sniff. That the Guildmaster spills mana all over the place, an’ if you use too much power, you hafta sleep…….”
Another sniffle.
“……He said I go around spilling mana all over the place? There, stop crying.”
“Yesh, hic.”
There she went again. Jurim briefly pinched Geuru’s tiny bean-sized nose.
“Stop crying. Your eyes are all swollen.”
When Jurim rubbed around her eyes, Geuru buried her face deep in his hand.
His hand, wandering in uncertainty as he wondered what to do, soon pulled the child into his arms and patted her back.
“Guildmaster, I’m sowwy. Geuru will be good. Don’t be sick.”
Jurim held his breath for a moment.
Even without him explaining it, the clever child seemed to have roughly realized why he had ended up like this.
A heavy weight of sorrow and guilt settled in his chest.