I am back – Chapter 117

The teammates didn’t really care about the taste of the alcohol. Maybe it was because the drink was the one my older sister brought.

Whether it was Korean beer or diluted soju, they drank without much complaint.

And my sister was no different.

After downing her first glass of soju, her face turned bright red. No, it was already red to begin with, but now it was really glowing.

Of course. The alcohol content in soju is more than three times that of beer. Even a small amount can send your blood alcohol level skyrocketing.

“So.”

Whether it was the effect of dropping the formalities or the alcohol hitting her or maybe both, the initial awkwardness faded and my sister opened up.

“You all have known Siyun for a long time, right?”

At that, the teammates glanced at each other.

It’s not incorrect to say they’ve known each other for a long time. Five years isn’t exactly a short time. If I were in my forties, I might have deeper relationships than just five years, but I’m only twenty-five. So the teammates I’ve known for one-fifth of my life is quite a long time, I’d say.

However, if I had to pick out the person I’ve known the longest here, it would obviously be my sister.

We’ve been together since before that five-year gap. Even with that gap, my sister and I have spent a lot of time together, and we have many memories.

…But that’s a problem I can’t mention to her.

“Yeah, that’s true.”

The teammates knew that too.

That’s probably why Kalia said it like that when she glanced at me.

“How did you two meet? Are you from the same hometown?”

My sister’s question likely stemmed from the things I’d mentioned about the teammates before.

The comment about coming from the countryside.

…That meant I had lived in the countryside.

Of course, it was a lie I threw out to cover up. I’ve only ever lived in places other than Seoul within Korea. I’ve lived in the Kingdom of Irrelaysia, but it wouldn’t be right to call that a ‘countryside’. Strictly speaking, that was ‘a foreign country’. It wasn’t just across the border; it was a completely different world.

Four pairs of eyes turned toward me at my sister’s question.

Had I ever mentioned that before to the teammates?

…I don’t think I did.

I just thought I’d need to match our stories, but it seems I never tried.

“If you’re asking if it’s from my hometown… then that’s not it.”

The relaxed tone caused Kalia to slip back into her usual speech manner. But even with her noble tone, her voice remained cautious. I suppose it’s because I’m someone she has feelings for.

Her gaze continued to bounce between my sister and me.

She must be racking her brain trying to make sense of the situation.

By the way, Pia was sweating nervously.

If you asked my teammates to pick the one who couldn’t lie well among us, they wouldn’t hesitate to choose Pia.

When it comes to ‘keeping secrets’, she’s trustworthy. All my teammates are like that. But on the flip side, when it comes to ‘making up stories’, Pia is just terrible at it.

Unlike Kalia, who has lived as a noble and had many conversations that involve deception, or Dana, who has read a lot of books and knows how to dodge questions, or Arna, whose accumulated experience due to the passage of time outweighs everything, Pia, with her pure essence, struggles to lie convincingly.

It’s not a matter of knowledge; I think it’s because she has been communicating with the Goddess since her childhood. In the times when her only conversation partner was the Goddess, there would have been no reason to lie. After becoming a Saintess and spreading the teachings of the Goddess, there wouldn’t have been a need for lies either.

So, in this situation where she clearly had to “make up a story”, she was understandably flustered.

“But Siyun… has indeed spent a long time in our hometown.”

It wasn’t a lie, but Kalia spoke while hiding the details.

“If it’s about the hometown…”

My sister hesitated for a moment after that before asking with a resolved expression,

“Your hometown is… foreign?”

“…”

Hmm.

Well, it is foreign in a way.

Fortunately, it seems that referring to it as foreign didn’t strike my teammates as too implausible. Everyone nodded in agreement.

“If it’s a foreign place, where was it?”

Each time my sister asked a question, it felt like we were walking on thin ice.

What should I say if she asked what kind of place it was?

I could casually mention a famous Korean spot located in Europe, saying Pia’s hair color was due to dye, they’d probably just go along with it.

But saying that would only lead to deeper pitfalls the more questions came up.

Even if the predominant races were similar, the Kingdom was so uniquely different from any country on Earth that it was hard to find comparisons. It was a nation built on magic rather than science; it had been at war with the Demon King’s army for a long time; it was a complete monarchy. Its architecture was subtly different, resembling various architectural styles that did exist on Earth.

As I mentioned each detail about my ‘hometown,’ the differences from other countries would become increasingly evident. In the end, I’d run into a situation I couldn’t explain away.

However, Kalia neither stopped explaining nor called it a secret.

“It’s a place that no longer exists on Earth.”

And she made that bold statement.

Everyone’s jaws dropped. I, my teammates, even my questioning sister all stared at Kalia.

Did she intend to reveal that it exists in another world? That thought sparked in me.

Yet, on the other hand, I didn’t think Kalia would make such a statement without careful thought. Being born into a noble family that ranks among the top in the kingdom and trained in strategies as a knight commander, she wouldn’t bring something like that up casually.

“I understand how you all see it,”

Kalia said, crossing her arms and nodding as if she found it completely comprehensible.

“I’m sure you want to believe that our hometown hasn’t vanished.”

“…”

No, it’s more that I didn’t quite grasp what she was getting at.

That our hometown vanished? That’s not possible. Irrelaysia is still intact. And probably for the next hundred-plus years, unless something major happens, it’ll be there just fine.

“But you must face reality. The reason our refugee application was accepted and we were naturalized in this country is because we lost our homeland in the war. In fact, among those here, no one speaks their native language better than Korean.”

“Ah…”

Only at that moment did I begin to understand what Kalia was suggesting.

It would be far too conspicuous to simply say I was born a Korean. My name and appearance stick out way too much. But claiming that we just naturalized from a foreign country carries too much risk of being discovered.

Instead, it’s better to say that my country has vanished, and we had no choice but to settle here.

“Our homeland… now means it no longer exists?”

My sister asked with a rather serious expression.

“Exactly.”

Kalia nodded, her expression somewhat solemn.

“Honestly, we don’t even know our hometown well. We’ve only heard stories passed down from our parents. We essentially grew up in Korea, and that’s why we are more familiar with Korean culture.”

“…”

The three teammates stared blankly at Kalia, who was lying with an audaciousness befitting her noble title, but in this situation, I doubt they could easily recognize that expression as “absurdly impressive.”

“And Siyun spent his childhood in our hometown; he’s a Korean expatriate. Our parents had interactions that allowed us to know each other to this day. It’s thanks to that that we can rely on him.”

It was a loose yet somehow plausible story.

Getting recognized as a refugee in Korea is incredibly difficult, and it’s even harder to become naturalized as one. Besides, the four teammates here only held a ‘resident registration card’ and had no way of proving their identity as Koreans. They didn’t have the outstanding qualifications needed to qualify for naturalization.

Yet, at the same time, it is easy to claim ‘naturalized from a foreign country.’ After all, they had resident registration and their names are foreign.

…No, more than that, this explanation was far more convincing than the bizarre story of coming from another world.

Really, it was an astonishingly impressive fabrication.