INV 69

“What brings you to such a humble place…!”

“…”

Pungbaek, draped in a light blue ceremonial robe, wore a gentle smile, but as if he accurately grasped the confrontational structure, he stood as if to divide the space between the celestial immortals and the underworld Reapers.

The question of why he had come was deemed not even worth an answer and was lightly ignored. Instead, beyond the immortals who were bowing their heads, he glanced briefly at Geom Biyeon—who offered a silent bow—and stared at Gwak Deukcheon for a quite long time.

Then, he spoke calmly.

“It has been a long time. Mr. Gwak.”

The first syllable was drawn out roughly like a husky voice, as if scratching the inside of his throat, but as the words continued thereafter, it transformed into a beautiful, clear, and high-pitched voice.

It is common knowledge in the 21st century that sound does not resonate without air.

He was truly the image of the god of wind, who tunes the sounds of all creation.

The god of wind, holding a large bamboo flute, had several layers of translucent silk draped over his light blue ceremonial robe like an outer skin. Embroidery made of silver thread was placed gingerly at the edges of that silk, making it seem as if stars were blooming on his sleeves whenever they fluttered in the wind.

Kwon Yihyeon, his vision nearly lured away by the angel-like appearance, forcibly blinked to regain his senses and faced the owner of the sleeves while blocking the wind with one hand.

In the meantime, Gwak Deukcheon also offered a silent bow with slow movements. Pungbaek, who accepted the greeting with a nod toward Gwak Deukcheon, still did not acknowledge the earnest remarks of the immortals.

Meanwhile, Kwon Yihyeon did not really know that Pungbaek was Pungbaek, but he felt it instinctively. That the opponent before his eyes resembled the wind. He sensed as it was that he was the wind itself. How was he able to know? Because his gaze was chilly? But there are also warm breezes in the world. One cannot receive the impression of being like the wind through temperature alone.

Nevertheless, even in a state of ignorance, Kwon Yihyeon saw through the opponent’s identity. Simply by intuition.

And, he offered a cheeky impression that he wasn’t as scary as expected.

‘Of course, it’s an overwhelming presence. It feels like my heart might stop just by looking at him…’

He had never felt such authority even from Gwak Deukcheon. The overwhelming sense of tearing off a piece of the providence that constructs the universe like clay and kneading it was not something even the strongest human could easily radiate. However…

However, Kwon Yihyeon was the contractor of Jae Angshin.

The side of Jae Angshin was a place one could only barely occupy after shaking off both the fear that one might actually die at this rate and the excessively beautiful void.

Therefore, Kwon Yihyeon, who had developed a cheeky resistance, did not stop the act of staring at Pungbaek, even with his feeble momentum.

If Kwon Yihyeon had known that one’s heart could stop just by capturing a god in both eyes, he would have lowered his gaze immediately, but thanks to being piteously ignorant, he was able to be brave.

Was that why? Pungbaek’s attention was drawn to the persistent gaze that was different from the other immortals who were politely bowing.

To the extent that he spared time for a question, no less.

“Are you… not afraid?”

“Pardon?”

Everyone was aghast, but Kwon Yihyeon, who did not know how languid Pungbaek’s nature usually was, forcibly suppressed his mental state that wanted to rebel, as if to say, ‘Are you picking on me now for not being afraid of you?’ Then, he tried to answer by pulling up his social skills to the maximum…

Pungbaek clicked his tongue briefly and whispered.

“A disaster is something that shakes the world like this, even if he does nothing himself.”

The weight contained in that sound shook his heart with a thud.

“Do you think the wind and waves will not sweep you away? Do you expect that you alone will forever be an exception?”

“…”

“Do you truly believe that a disaster has emotions?”

The god of wind dominates every flow in the air. Therefore, he could be called the god of sound.

The words uttered by such a being possessed extreme weight.

Kwon Yihyeon’s lips flickered, but he could not let out any sound. What came out through his parted teeth was only a ragged breath, not language. Geom Biyeon thought Kwon Yihyeon would collapse at this rate and tried to advise Pungbaek to withdraw his gaze. It wasn’t that he was worried about Kwon Yihyeon, but to achieve his own goal which aligned with the celestial realm. However, an anomaly occurred.

Kwon Yihyeon, who did not collapse, began to spit out sounds syllable by syllable with pale lips.

“I don’t know about other things, but, emotions… I believe, that, he has, them… No, he has them… he has, emotions!”

“…”

“It’s something anyone has as long as they are alive!”

Pungbaek, who presides over sound, did not block his shout. Therefore, the scream spat out by Kwon Yihyeon resonated sharply as if to tear the sky apart.

However, it was not enough. Kwon Yihyeon wanted to break something, anything.

What Pungbaek touched was precisely Kwon Yihyeon’s sore spot.

The words he just heard were ringing in his head.

‘Do I believe… that a disaster has emotions?’

Kwon Yihyeon does not love Chacha, but he does not go so far as to deny that he is a being that exchanges emotions. However, as he was surrounded by people who treated Chacha like an inanimate object as if it were nothing, he felt as if even his own emotions were being denied.

What he asserted was a simple logic. If Kwon Yihyeon has emotions, then Chacha has emotions too.

But everyone was denying that.

‘How can they be this cruel…?’

Around that time, Chacha’s upper body was projected on the side screen that was broadcasting the scene where the great monsters had gathered.

No sound could be heard, but the great monsters were forcibly suppressing their bizarre instincts that respond only to slaughter and plunder, as if they were in the middle of a conversation facing their god.

They were massive, and their structures were completely different from humans.

When the lens captured only Chacha’s upper body, only things like their toes, hair, or fingernails appeared on the screen.

If he hadn’t known Chacha was Jae Angshin, he would have mistaken him for an ant dropped into a land of giants. The difference was that large. Standing in the middle of the supernatural beings and monsters meant having to handle that much volume, both physically and mentally.

Nevertheless, Chacha was wearing a detached and arrogant smile.

As he always had in the face of the grudges of all ages, familiarly.

‘Were you always like that? Have you always lived receiving this kind of gaze…?’

Something inside his chest was torn to shreds. Kwon Yihyeon bit his teeth, then approached Pungbaek with rough steps. A general of the celestial realm who was hidden in the clouds tried to draw a spear toward him, but the wind blocked it.

Kwon Yihyeon did not know, but the path of a mere human approaching a god was an ordeal that required enduring terrible weight and pressure. It was not a distance that could be easily approached just because it was short. Nevertheless, Kwon Yihyeon walked steadfastly even while staggering as if he would fall, and finally stood before Pungbaek.

His chest swelled as if it would burst. He didn’t even know the reason why he felt like he would cry, but nonetheless, it was only because he had to say it.

Kwon Yihyeon asked with a trembling voice.

“Why… do you speak of him as if treating an inanimate object?”

“…”

“As if he were a thing… Why, like that… calling him a disaster…”

As he continued speaking, Kwon Yihyeon momentarily felt his skin crawl.

No one understood Kwon Yihyeon’s words. No, rather, it seemed they had no intention of understanding. Suddenly, memories of his childhood flashed like a lightning bolt. Days when he was treated like a transparent person. A life where his existence was denied. Kwon Yihyeon involuntarily felt a chill and raised his voice like a scream.

“That’s a phenomenon! A disaster is just a word. It’s not a word used to call a person. It’s not even Jae Angshin, but just ‘disaster’… You’re not supposed to do that. Calling him that way…”

“That way?”

Pungbaek added a response as if he were indifferent. But even that was not the air of someone who understood.

Is this something only Kwon Yihyeon can understand? Does only Kwon Yihyeon, who was called ‘the kid from the shaman house’ instead of ‘Kwon Yihyeon’ for his entire childhood, know the weight of a name?

In the end, Kwon Yihyeon ended up sobbing.

“You’re denying everything about him…”

Emotions, ego, and even his very existence…