Chapter 128
Choo Haeyeon stared at the massive monument, disbelief written all over her face.
Her reaction stood in stark contrast to Sahun, who had barely shown any emotion toward the monument, unlike with the Underworld Script.
“You’re asking how this got here, right?”
Choo Haeyeon pressed me for an answer again.
I had to think for a moment—should I reveal the exact source to her, or keep it to myself?
After some contemplation, I chose something in between.
“I dug it up from a special place I know. I brought it here to ask you and Sahun what it is.”
“A special place? Where?”
“I can’t give details, but it’s probably connected to the Underworld.”
At that, Choo Haeyeon’s expression stiffened. Surprisingly, she didn’t ask further or interrogate me more. Instead, she casually spoke an unexpected sentence.
“Decide now. Either return it to its original place or break it.”
“Just like that?”
“You need to hurry. Even now, it might be too late. If returning it will take too long, I recommend breaking it.”
She raised a hammer in one hand, as if she had run straight from the forge.
“If it’s too difficult, I could do it for you.”
I found her reaction… fascinating. This was the first time I’d seen her respond so intensely to something.
Before considering the choice she offered, I had to ask.
“What is this thing, exactly?”
Choo Haeyeon frowned. But not at me—it was directed at someone else.
She pointed to the sky and said:
“No need to draw their attention.”
The direction she indicated was the sky.
“Do you mean the Underworld is watching this?”
That was how I interpreted her words. Those descending from there were mostly underworld emissaries. She herself was from the Underworld as well.
But Choo Haeyeon shook her head.
“Why assume the Underworld is the only place in the sky?”
Her words reminded me of past events. She often stood idly, staring blankly at the sky.
“What are you looking at so seriously?”
I had asked once, noticing her solemn expression.
“They looked at me first.”
She had joked, but that was the first answer she gave me.
“What if it wasn’t a joke?”
One thing became clear: this wasn’t the first time. She was speaking sincerely.
“Breaking it seems wrong… let’s return it, then.”
Using the Gilnang, moving it back to King Jaho’s residence was easy. But first…
“You haven’t answered what this is yet.”
I tried to divert the topic subtly, but I wasn’t going to let it slide. I sensed that if not now, Choo Haeyeon would continue avoiding the question. And my intuition was right.
“Do you really need to know?”
It sounded like the kind of thing you hear in martial arts tales: knowing could be dangerous. Still, her sincerity prompted me to answer seriously.
“Of course I need to know. I can’t just follow your words blindly without knowing anything.”
Our eyes met. She seemed to expect me to yield, but this time, I wasn’t stepping back. Time was still passing. Eventually, she spoke first.
“Then we’ll go inside and talk.”
She didn’t mean inside a house. I nodded, retrieved the Gilnang, and placed the massive monument inside. I then opened King Jaho’s residence and said:
“Let’s go in.”
Inside, I glanced back to see Choo Haeyeon hesitating but following.
“For her, this must be the first time in King Jaho’s residence.”
She had entered the Gilnang before, but never the residence.
Then a thought occurred:
“Do we really need to return the monument to its original place? I have the Gilnang.”
Could someone look into the Gilnang from the sky? I had no way of knowing. If not, King Jaho’s residence should be safe.
“Honestly, I’m not completely sure.”
Still, it seemed safer here. Choo Haeyeon would confirm anyway. I spoke after noticing she had fully entered.
“The original place is further away, but I’ll leave it here for now. Is that okay?”
Choo Haeyeon, fascinated by the residence, glanced around and then looked up as if checking something in the sky. She nodded after a moment.
“We need a bit more observation, but it should be fine for now.”
With her approval, there was no hesitation.
Thud!
I placed the massive monument again and asked her for the third time:
“Now, can you tell me what this is?”
Choo Haeyeon, uncharacteristically, sighed. But she didn’t avoid the question anymore.
“I’ll ask first. Do you know about the Underworld Script?”
She nodded slowly at the straightforward question.
“Yes, I know it’s a script only the Underworld King can use.”
“That means you don’t know why.”
She then looked at Sahun, who had followed into King Jaho’s residence. Sahun flinched slightly, understanding he should give space, and looked at me for guidance.
I said to Sahun:
“Listen first. If it’s safe, I’ll tell you later.”
He obediently stepped aside, saying nothing.
“Understood, sir. I’ll step away for now. Call me if needed.”
Sahun left, and Choo Haeyeon began her explanation.
“Only the Underworld King can use the Underworld Script because it originates from the Underworld King.”
“Originates from the Underworld? So he created it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s strange. Sahun told me there’s even an organization to find the scattered scripts. If the Underworld King created them, wouldn’t he know everything himself?”
A natural question. The shocking part came next.
“I said the Underworld King created it, but I didn’t say he made it directly.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“No, they’re different.”
“How?”
“Think of the Underworld Script as a script born from the place where the Underworld King dies.”
“The script is created by the death of the Underworld King?”
I couldn’t believe it. A script that comes into existence because someone dies… impossible. And that someone being the Underworld?
“The Underworld dies? That Underworld?”
I vividly remembered facing the Underworld King. He wasn’t merely strong—he was a massive world, living law itself. Standing before him, life and death seemed trivial, even childish.
An absolute being beyond reincarnation, immortal through endless time. That was the Underworld I saw. And he dies?
“I’m not sure, but there have been at least ten Underworld Kings so far.”
Ten such beings have existed? This made me realize the vastness of this world, including the Underworld. Even the absolute throne isn’t eternal.
Then doubt followed:
“Does that mean everything I build will eventually vanish like a fleeting mirage?”
What is true immortality? Why was I given this new life? I…
Then, Choo Haeyeon’s voice snapped me back.
“The death of the Underworld King is not the death you think it is.”
I had to calm my startled heart. Simma had briefly appeared—rare in my life—emphasizing how shocking the Underworld’s death was. Without Choo Haeyeon, it could have been dangerous.
She didn’t seem to have planned it, yet her words helped me. Grateful, I asked:
“You mean it’s not the death I think it is?”
“Yes. If there had been only one Underworld King throughout history, and that one still serves as the Underworld King, would that make sense?”
That didn’t make sense to me. I asked her to explain simply. She paused, then offered two words: destruction and rebirth.
“When memories accumulated over long years reach capacity, they are erased through destruction and restart through rebirth. Do you understand now?”
I nodded. Suddenly, her words made sense.
“So that’s why they can’t remember the script they created.”
But some things still puzzled me.
“Since the script is born at the place of death, couldn’t they just bring others there or at least mark the spot to preserve the scripts?”
Choo Haeyeon answered simply:
“If you found it, you’d know how stubborn its nature is.”
She added that newly born scripts were even more unruly, almost impossible to control. I immediately understood.
“What about the monument? This big thing can’t just disappear like a script.”
I assumed it would emerge like the script upon death, but it didn’t.
“The monument is a home built by the scripts that fled, so they can live together. Usually, they’re just like tombstones; finding one as large as this is rare.”
So the scripts build a home for themselves after fleeing. That much I understood.
“The Underworld certainly has its interesting events.”
Listening to her, it felt like hearing old stories from a grandmother—though younger than me, the feeling was similar.
Thanks to Choo Haeyeon, some of my curiosity was satisfied.
“Thank you. It seems like a story not easily told to anyone, but you shared it with me.”
These were tales from the afterlife I’d never heard before, carried with secrecy. I silently expressed my gratitude, still needing to ask one more question.
“But how do you know things even Sahun doesn’t?”
