Chapter 218

<Dead Point (6)>

Ramen is indeed a beneficial snack.

It sharpens the consciousness wandering in pitch-black darkness.

‘Dugu Elil. That’s his name.’

It’s the name Yoo Jin muttered while sleepwalking and groping the walls in her brother’s room.

That’s why I remember it.

I couldn’t understand everything Yoo Jin was mumbling, but the subtle changes in her tone made me guess that Dugu Elil was a name.

“Thank you for the delicious meal!”

Yoo Jin, who had eaten every bit of the noodles and even mixed rice into the broth, patted her full belly.

“I’ll clean up. Stay here with Jeong Won.”

“Okay, hehe-.”

After finishing the meal, I moved the empty pot and bowls to the kitchen.

“Hmm-. Knowing the name doesn’t change anything······.”

I muttered while giving the leftover ramen to Jang Gun-i.

It’s just that I now know the name.

It’s like hearing that someone named Kim Sang-deok lives in Alaska—something completely unrelated to me.

The real gain is realizing how to release energy.

‘Just clear the unconscious and consciously exhale.’

Like blowing on hot ramen to cool it down.

Why didn’t I think of that before?

Probably because I was unconsciously breathing as my body dictated, forgetting the method. I had fully internalized it to ensure that even if Yoo Jin took my energy in an emergency, it wouldn’t disrupt daily life. I even breathed that way in my sleep.

It’s similar to how people used to zombie-walk to work. Exhausted, they’d get out of bed, wash, dress, and grab their tie and bag without missing a beat—phone, ID card, everything. Even if they couldn’t remember, their bodies moved on autopilot.

‘Just exhale consciously. You don’t need to use the energy elsewhere.’

When I first returned to the past at nine years old, I emptied the accumulated filth from my body. Then I filled it anew.

The theory is ready.

Now, I just need to put it into practice. Since I’ve figured it out, there’s no rush.

After finishing the dishes, Jin Hyuk was briefly caught up in a trivial dilemma.

‘Should I clean the cauldron after a nap?’

I’m full, and I’m worried about my siblings dozing off on the floor.

Even though there are dogs, if they fall off the floor, it’ll hurt.

“Oh my-, is our Jeong Won sleepy? Should we nap with noona on the floor?”

Even now, the old-soul Son Yoo Jin is soothing her younger sibling on the floor.

She’s also swaying back and forth due to post-meal drowsiness.

Calling the floor ‘mallae’ shows Yoo Jin has a natural talent for dialects.

***

Kaaa-.

The three warriors, having devoured the ramen and even mixed cold rice to fill their bellies, sprawled on the floor for a nap. Yoo Jin claimed her brother’s right arm, and Jeong Won took the left.

Haengun-i flew off to the compost pile, full of bugs, while Yoo Jin slept. Even a small bird needs to forage to survive.

The gentle breeze from the wall-mounted fan blended with the chirping of swallows and cicadas, creating a lullaby.

“Oh my-, these kids. They’re good at this.”

Han Yu-young appeared without a sound, showering them with genuine praise.

She had come looking for them after they didn’t return for lunch. The dogs guarding the dirt yard made it easy to find them. Though ‘guarding’ might be an overstatement—they were just lounging in the shade.

Han Yu-young wiped the dried ramen broth from the corners of the children’s mouths with her thumb. The sight was quite picturesque.

“Our Jang Gun-i has worked hard protecting my babies.”

She also patted the dogs, whose snouts still smelled of ramen.

Entering the kitchen, she couldn’t help but laugh at the broken noodles, soup bits, and leftover broth in the cauldron.

“Did you sneak eat without telling mom?”

Back in the yard, she looked at the three children.

Han Yu-young’s happiness lay there, sleeping soundly.

‘Proof that I lived, the history I’ll leave behind.’

People leave their names after death, but not everyone can achieve that.

And what’s the point of leaving a name? If life is fleeting, I believe a mother’s duty is to nurture her descendants to stand firm in the world.

‘They’re so pretty.’

The eldest, soon to be an adult, and the youngest, still learning to speak. The daughter, perfectly placed in between. The children, born years apart as if to spare their mother too much hardship.

They’ll be my support until the moment I face death, giving me a reason to live.

The not-yet-forty-year-old mother sniffled.

“Stay healthy and kind, okay, my babies?”

She patted the children’s cheeks, swollen from the ramen aftermath. Though they all look alike, today they seemed even more identical, just different in size.

She covered them with a thin blanket and turned away.

Is it safe to sleep with the fan on? She muttered to herself.

***

One thing I realized after living again is the countryside summer.

No matter how high the temperature, if it’s not humid, staying in the shade is enough to feel comfortable. It was something I didn’t know before, having lived in the city.

“Oh my-, our baby. You really did a number.”

Jin Hyuk, who woke up first, changed Jeong Won’s swollen diaper.

Yoo Jin and Jeong Won were sleeping so soundly that even as they stretched like cats, there was no sign of them waking up.

After rolling up the diaper and setting it aside, he returned to the kitchen.

He sat on the edge of the hearth.

Whoooosh-.

Exhaling, he felt the energy drain away.

When inhaling, he breathed lightly, just enough to keep his brain oxygenated, like any ordinary lung-breathing animal.

‘I can feel it.’

Even without seeing or explaining, another consciousness beyond his own was sending signals. The energy taken from nature was returning to nature.

It must have been when he went to hear Jo Il-hun’s father’s erotic romance story.

Cheon Gil-ryong exhaled like this while chugging makgeolli.

Pooooo-.

Back then, he was too focused on the story’s conclusion to pay attention to the old man’s words, but now they resonated.

– “If you drink too much, you become something else.”

Well, it might have been about alcohol, but isn’t that how the world works?

Universal truths fit anywhere. Like water or air, they seep naturally into every corner, then move again when needed, driven by gravity and pressure differences.

Pooooo-.

Tatatatak-.

As his breath touched the hearth, the embers buried in the ashes flared up, spilling out of the hearth. A phenomenon that could only be described as miraculous. How else to explain flames rising without kindling?

‘This is dangerous. I need to move.’

If I start this seriously, I might burn the whole house down.

There’s a good place for secret activities.

Like in the folktale 〈The King’s Ears Are Donkey Ears〉.

Secrets should be spilled in the bamboo forest.

First, I’ll move my siblings back home.

***

It used to be called Gyeongseongbu.

Though more than just the name has changed, Cheon Gil-ryong, who visited Seoul after over half a century, didn’t seem too surprised.

He lowered his sunglasses halfway and raised an eyebrow.

Pride kept him from tilting his head back to look up.

“That’s the building I’ve seen on TV occasionally.”

“How does it look in person?”

“Desolate. If those aren’t prisons, what are they?”

Yoo Myung-sun, who had proudly asked, was met with an awkward smile. He had momentarily forgotten what kind of person Cheon Gil-ryong was.

Fortunately, as the car entered a crowded area, Cheon Gil-ryong’s attention shifted to the people on the street.

“The ladies’ outfits are quite nice. Heh-, if I were sixty years younger······.”

Both Yoo Myung-sun and the SSS Agent driving the car bit their lips.

Hold it in. Laughing might earn a scolding.

“Still, isn’t it good to dress neatly? We are the Land of Eastern Courtesy, after all.”

“Ah, my friend, Eastern Courtesy is nonsense-.”

Cheon Gil-ryong, about to speak as casually as he did in the countryside, glanced at the driver and passenger and lowered his voice. Out of respect for Yoo Myung-sun’s dignity.

“That all started from a phrase left by those rootless Huang people to belittle us. Now, it’s used by the old to dominate the young.”

“Oh-. Please elaborate.”

Another interesting story?

Yoo Myung-sun turned toward Cheon Gil-ryong.

“Names carry wishes. Live long, become rich—they hold various meanings.”

“Yes, it’s common to name with such wishes.”

“Those people had no reason to think well of our ancestors. They named us with the intent of saying, ‘You eastern barbarians, learn courtesy from us.’ Isn’t that right?”

It sounded like sophistry.

But Yoo Myung-sun, not as quick-witted as before and lacking deep historical knowledge, couldn’t find a response.

“Whether it’s Generation X or whatever, they’re still people. The old shouldn’t define them as unknowns just because they don’t understand. From their perspective, it’s natural.”

The driver nodded noticeably.

“That’s how names work. They’re derogatory. You give a bad name to someone you want to insult, and a fancy title to someone you want to praise.”

The car, stopped at a red light, started moving again. Cheon Gil-ryong pointed to a newly visible building.

“They’re good at that. Giving respectable names to scoundrels to use them socially. Calling them phenomena or organizations.”

Yoo Myung-sun nodded unconsciously. It wasn’t just perfunctory.

This senior has a knack for saying things that sound both plausible and implausible in an amusing way.

“Look over there.”

Cheon Gil-ryong pointed to a line of citizens.

“If you label that as chaos, wouldn’t it look like people hoarding to the uninformed? And over there—whatever they’re doing, slap a photo on it and call it order, and it’ll look like order to the uninformed.”

Cheon Gil-ryong pointed to a store having a sale, where people were disorderly reaching for items.

“Hehe-, today’s talk is a bit difficult.”

“We’re growing old together, so there’s no need to be modest. Oh, it might be hard. Our Chairman Yoo, having handed the world to his son-in-law and turned his back on country bumpkins, wouldn’t have such habits.”

“I vaguely understand, though.”

“Yes, yes. If you don’t understand, you’re a fool. Even the driver is nodding.”

The SSS Agent driving didn’t dare glance in the rearview mirror and sat up straight.

“It’s also about not hastily defining things with words.”

“Exactly, exactly. Once you name something, you’re trapped by it. You can’t see beyond it.”

“After all, isn’t everything just temporary?”

“Of course. No need to confine them to the old folks’ framework.”

“Yes. Their rules will soon become the norm.”

“That’s what I’m saying. We’ll pass, and they’ll grow old. That’s how a generation flows. That’s why they say even locusts have their season.”

“Will there be good changes?”

“What’s good or bad about change? Chairman Yoo, who sees the world as a playground, might hope for change, but for most people living hand-to-mouth, what does it matter if change comes through the front or back door?”

“Change seems so slow.”

“Of course. People don’t die suddenly; they age gradually, right?”

“Hehehe-. It sounds like we have to die for change to come.”

“Exactly. Death is change.”

Like a tree sprouting from burnt ashes.

After a moment of serious conversation, Cheon Gil-ryong’s eyes rolled aimlessly.

Ah, missed all the good sights. As the sedan entered a less crowded street, he lost interest. The whole Eastern Courtesy topic made him miss out on fully appreciating the young ladies.

“Hehehe-! Senior, you’re still youthful.”

“Youthful, my foot. The king’s dick is a donkey’s dick-.”

Slurp!

Cheon Gil-ryong smacked his lips again.

Hahahaha!

Yoo Myung-sun laughed so hard the car might have shaken, and the SSS Agent and Kwon Je-hak in the passenger seat bit their lips until they turned red.

“How about we end the Seoul tour here? Sitting in the car too long makes me miss the mountain breeze. Feeling a bit off.”

“What’s wrong? Are you unwell?”

Ah, it’s nothing-. Just feeling strange.

Despite the air conditioner blasting, a bead of sweat rolled down Cheon Gil-ryong’s sideburns.

***

Whoooosh-!

A storm.

Yes, a violent, fierce wind is called a storm.

On a clear, windless day, a storm raged in Cheon Gil-ryong’s bamboo forest.

If Cheon Gil-ryong had been home, he might have heard the spirits’ cries for help.

But Cheon Gil-ryong wasn’t there.

Only a cross-legged teenager and a dog.

Huuu-, poooooo-!

At the storm’s center, Jin Hyuk opened his eyes sharply and exhaled a dense breath.

Gasp!