“What that means is that Myojeong was never supposed to love anyone.”
“...What?”
Jaegyeom froze as he stared at the boy.
He could not fully grasp what he meant. The idea that there could exist a person forbidden from loving anyone was too bizarre to accept easily.
Then suddenly, a memory surfaced in his mind.
‘You fool. I’m not someone who can marry, even if I wanted to.’
Could that be what Myojeong had meant back then?
“Why did he have to obey something like that?”
No matter how he thought about it, the idea that someone was forbidden from giving their heart to another person sounded absurd.
But the boy merely tilted his head, as though he genuinely could not understand why Jaegyeom found it strange.
“Because everything has a price.”
“Even so, it still doesn’t make sense.”
“But you already know that yourself, don’t you?”
The boy looked at Jaegyeom with his head slightly tilted.
“There’s no such thing as a free lunch in this world.”
Then he continued calmly.
“Ghosts never eat for free. And naturally, the reverse is true too. We’re strict about giving and receiving. Even if the other side doesn’t want it, if you give something, you must receive something equal in return. And if you receive something, you must give back just as much. That’s the rule.”
The boy smirked faintly.
“That’s why I made a wager with you last time using our bodies as stakes.”
Jaegyeom frowned slightly as he listened.
“But you and the hometown aren’t ghosts.”
“What I’m saying is, if even ghosts are like that, then how could the hometown possibly be different?”
The boy paused briefly before grinning.
“And the hometown is a god too, more or less. I’m talking about all gods and ghosts together.”
Slowly crossing his arms, the boy spoke again.
“There’s a reason the characters for ghost and god are the same.”
In a broader sense, their essence was ultimately identical.
“To some people, they’re great gods worthy of worship and faith. But to people without faith, they’re no different from ghosts. Isn’t that common in your human world too?”
Jaegyeom listened quietly.
“When humans die, they become ghosts. And some of those ghosts ascend and become gods. Gods are also born from the collective wishes and intense desires of humans. In the end, gods can only exist because humans exist.”
The boy shrugged lightly.
“That’s why their essence is the same. Because both are beings born from humans.”
“Then is the hometown also a kind of god?”
“Something like that.”
The boy nodded lazily.
“You could call it the god that stands at the origin of everything and creates the flow itself. But it isn’t a god like me. The hometown wasn’t created by anything. It simply existed from the very beginning.”
The hometown was a divine existence.
And at the same time, it was a transcendent concept beyond even that.
“Myojeong carried the mark of the hometown. And having the mark of the hometown basically means he was under its protection.”
The boy casually scribbled in the dirt with a pebble as he continued speaking.
“And being ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) under its protection means the hometown favored him enough to lend him its power.”
“In human terms, he would’ve been someone receiving divine grace.”
The pebble scratched softly against the dirt.
“A human favored by the hometown experiences inexplicable blessings throughout life. They avoid disasters. They escape sudden death. Naturally, anyone who receives benefits like that must also carry a burden equal to them.”
Then the boy suddenly grinned.
“And despite all that, Myojeong still had the nerve to betray the hometown.”
“But how could the hometown not know?”
Jaegyeom asked, unable to understand.
“If it’s a god, shouldn’t it know everything?”
Especially something like the hometown—a great providence governing the world itself.
But the boy shook his head.
“Gods aren’t as absolute as humans think.”
Then he gestured with his hand.
“Come here. I’ll show you.”
The boy crouched down on the ground and beckoned him over.
Still confused, Jaegyeom sat beside him.
The boy spread his palm over the dirt as though brushing across it.
And suddenly, a swarm of ants appeared across the bare ground.
Jaegyeom’s eyes widened.
This was the boy’s domain.
Anything could happen here according to his will.
“See these ants?”
The boy pointed lazily at the moving swarm.
“Uh... yeah.”
At some point, a cookie crumb had appeared in the boy’s hand.
He scattered it across the dirt, laying down a trail for the ants.
Immediately, the ants began following the crumbs.
“They can’t see us, you know.”
The boy watched the ants for a while before picking up a pebble nearby.
Then he blocked the ants’ path with it.
“But now I put a stone here.”
The pebble dropped directly in front of the line of ants.
“To them, this probably feels like a mountain falling from the sky out of nowhere.”
“...Yeah.”
“Now think about how the ants will react.”
The ants wandered around the pebble in confusion.
𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂
“They’ll probably go around it.”
“Right? That’s what I think too.”
The boy nodded.
“But look carefully over here.”
One ant was stubbornly trying to climb over the pebble.
“Look at that idiot. Isn’t it stupid?”
“...Why’s it trying to climb over it?”
“Exactly.”
The boy burst into mischievous laughter.
“I blocked the path so they’d go around it, but there are always idiots trying to crawl over instead.”
He pointed at the ant.
“No matter what, there are always mutants like that.”
Jaegyeom absentmindedly watched the ants for a moment.
Then the boy suddenly looked at him.
“Do you understand now?”
The smile vanished from his face.
“This is what you humans are like.”
Jaegyeom flinched.
“......”
A chill crawled down his spine for some reason.
The boy’s expressions changed too quickly to follow. One moment he looked like a child laughing mischievously, and the next his eyes felt cold enough to see through everything.
After staring at Jaegyeom expressionlessly for a moment, the boy suddenly burst into giggles again.
“Anyway, the point is that nothing in this world is perfect.”
He smiled faintly.
“Not even the hometown.”
Jaegyeom fell into thought.
It somehow made sense, yet at the same time felt impossibly abstract.
“Even if this world is the hometown’s game board, that doesn’t mean it can freely force everything to happen however it wants.”
The boy traced circles around the ants with a twig.
“What the hometown can do is move the pieces in the direction it desires and create a flow. But it can’t completely know what kind of will or thoughts each individual piece possesses.”
The twig dragged slowly through the dirt.
“Myojeong was a mutant.”
The boy looked at Jaegyeom indifferently.
“Just like that ant. Even when crumbs were scattered to guide him one way, and walls impossible to cross were placed in front of him...”
He paused briefly.
“...he still refused to move according to the hometown’s intentions.”
Silence fell.
Then the boy asked quietly,
“Do you understand now?”
Jaegyeom could not answer.
It felt as though he understood and did not understand at the same time. The more he learned, the more everything seemed to descend into a realm completely detached from ordinary human understanding.
Then the boy muttered softly,
“You humans probably have no idea how terrifying a god’s greed can be.”
His gaze drifted somewhere distant.
“You can see it in the lives of people meant to receive a god—or coveted by one. The moment they refuse the god’s will, terrible suffering follows them through life.”
The boy laughed faintly.
“You humans like to imagine gods as generous and benevolent beings.”
His eyes slowly narrowed.
“But reality isn’t like that at all.”
Jaegyeom remained silent as he listened.
“That’s also why people destined to receive a god suffer divine punishment if they refuse it. And why those who already received one are punished when they act against its will.”
The boy shrugged.
“Gods are selfish. They do whatever they please. Sometimes they’re even malicious.”
Then he smiled.
“Because unlike humans, we don’t divide things into absolute good and evil.”
His eyes settled on Jaegyeom again.
“That’s why no matter how many times I explain it, humans will never truly understand with their minds.”
You humans probably have no idea how terrifying a god’s greed can be.
Jaegyeom looked silently at the disaster god sitting before him.
The face staring back at him was identical to his own.
As he turned the boy’s words over in his mind, an inexplicable unease slowly crept over him.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
the boy asked.
But Jaegyeom did not answer.
He had not expected the boy to explain this much to him in the first place. The fact that he was answering so willingly felt strange.
Then Jaegyeom suddenly asked,
“But why don’t you keep saying you want to live with me anymore?”
The boy looked unconcerned.
“Because even if I asked, you’d just refuse anyway.”
That was true, but...
The ominous feeling still would not go away.
“And besides, we’re going to keep seeing each other from now on anyway, so what’s the big deal?”
Jaegyeom’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“What do you mean?”
“Because we’re going to become one soon.”
The boy answered so casually that Jaegyeom’s expression stiffened at once.
Become one...?
The words sent a cold sensation down his spine.
Just as he was about to ask what that meant—
THWACK.
His eyes snapped open.
His consciousness surfaced instantly, like a folding fan snapping shut.
The first thing he saw was Black Emperor’s face directly in front of him.
The moment their eyes met unexpectedly, Black Emperor—who had apparently been shaking his shoulder awake—looked slightly flustered and quickly pulled back, suddenly aware of how close they were.
What the hell?
Jaegyeom sat upright in confusion.
Just moments ago, he had been standing in the boy’s yard. But after closing and opening his eyes, he was somewhere completely different.
Looking around quickly, he scanned the room.
“Are you feeling unwell somewhere?”
“...What?”
“You were covered in cold sweat.”
“Huh? Ah... no.”
Jaegyeom wiped the sweat from his forehead as he sat there dazed.
Black Emperor spoke calmly.
“The preparations are almost complete.”
Then he continued,
“Saero has finished reading the past contained within the energy. We should go now.”