Chapter 62
‘So… you’re not going to take the challenge?’
And then came that one last word.
Scared?
At the teasing tone in the Shinseo’s voice, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
Of course.
I had wondered why it was being so obedient, even after I’d half torn it apart earlier.
It must have been plotting a little revenge like this from the start.
But even so, it didn’t matter.
I had already made up my mind to do this.
And instead of feeling afraid at its provocation, I was still smiling.
After all, hadn’t it itself said it?
That the task wasn’t something it could decide on its own?
I didn’t think it was lying.
If the Shinseo could freely decide such things, then there’d be no need for all those restrictions in the first place.
And if it were trying to deceive me, it wouldn’t have bothered inventing rules and limitations.
So, there was no need to be scared in advance.
‘Besides, Baekho wouldn’t have sent me here just to hand me something strange as a “gift.”’
Even if this was all some trap or deception, it didn’t matter.
I’d just break through it.
If I couldn’t even do that, then failing wouldn’t be so unfair anyway.
“Fine. I’ll take your challenge.”
There was no reason to delay.
“I’d like to start right now.”
Maybe my confidence rubbed it the wrong way.
Without another word, the Shinseo began to change.
A swirl of black and white energy radiated out, and then it lifted itself into the air.
That wasn’t all.
The plain, ordinary book began to glow gold, as if revealing that its prior appearance had been a disguise.
At the same time, the title written on the first page changed —
from Shinseo to Golden Shinseo (Hwanggeum Shinseo).
Apparently, that was its true name.
‘Then let me explain the final instructions.
When I finish speaking, the pages will begin to turn.
Grab the page at the moment you wish to stop.
Then you’ll know what you must do.’
Even if I didn’t like it, at least it was fulfilling its role properly.
The only thing that worried me was what it might demand of me if I failed,
but it seemed unlikely to cheat within the task itself.
In short, all I had to do was pick the right page.
I widened my eyes, focusing intently.
But the moment the pages began to turn—
I could only stare, dumbfounded.
All I saw was white.
Every single page was blank — not a single letter or symbol anywhere.
“How am I supposed to choose if there’s nothing written?”
Now I understood why the Golden Shinseo had so casually explained the process to me —
it didn’t matter if I knew or not.
The book truly had no visible text.
But the Shinseo had made one mistake.
To be exact — it underestimated me.
If there had been no clues at all, maybe I’d have been lost.
But there was a clue — hidden in its earlier words.
And I wasn’t foolish enough to miss it.
“You said each page gives a different task… so that means the tasks are written — just invisible.”
Even if most people figured that out, they wouldn’t know what to do next.
But I wasn’t most people.
“Well, this isn’t exactly what this ability was meant for, but… whatever.”
I possessed eyes that could see what others could not.
One blink was enough to activate them.
The Eye of the Dead, the sight passed down to me by a Reaper.
“Let’s see…”
When I looked at the Golden Shinseo with those opened eyes, things that had been invisible came into view.
For instance — a lifespan.
Amusingly enough, the Golden Shinseo, like a living being, had a fixed time of death —
roughly a thousand years from now.
At least it wouldn’t be getting torn apart by me today.
Which meant there was still more to discover.
But with the Reaper’s Eye alone, I couldn’t see any text.
No matter how carefully I scanned the pages, there were no letters to read.
Still, I wasn’t disappointed.
Because I still had one trump card left —
the Eye of Fate (Myeongan), said to be possessed only by me and Yeomra himself.
“If this doesn’t work, then I guess I’ll have to leave it to luck.”
Without hesitation, I activated it.
My heart pounded.
Alright, let’s see the result—
“Oh?”
The moment I saw it, a small sound of admiration escaped me.
Success.
And not just success — a huge success.
Where there had been only blank space before, letters appeared,
as though they had always been there.
Before turning the next page, I read the words written there.
<The Price of a Modest Wish>
Find a person fated to die and save them.
The moment I finished reading, the page turned on its own.
Naturally, I read the next one as well.
<The Price of a Small Wish>
Find a person starving to death and personally cook them a warm meal.
I couldn’t help but laugh quietly.
I’d been a little tense, wondering what kinds of tasks might appear,
but these were… surprisingly mild.
Though what caught my attention were the words preceding each task —
“Price of a modest wish,” “Price of a small wish,” and so on.
“How am I supposed to know what level that means?”
If I completed a “small wish” task, maybe I’d only be allowed to wish for something trivial in return.
So I’d have to choose carefully.
Meanwhile, the pages kept turning.
<Price of a Very Small Wish>
Find a lost animal and return it home.
<Price of a Very Small Wish>
Find someone sick and heal them.
<Price of a Small Wish>
…
My brow furrowed.
Was I just unlucky, or were they all like this?
There were still many pages left, so I decided to keep watching and wait.
“But all these tasks… are they all about doing good deeds?”
Since it was a celestial artifact, that was understandable.
But just as I thought that—
A new task appeared, dramatically.
For the first time, a page appeared black instead of white.
The first line, written in red ink, read:
<The Price of Blood-Stained Terror>
From the very start, it felt ominous —
and the task written beneath was entirely different from those before.
Take the lives of seven warriors among the Hundred Great Masters of the world,
and mutilate their corpses beyond recognition.
The first task not tied to good deeds.
And clearly, its difficulty was on another level —
as if it had jumped hundreds of steps higher all at once.
“I am curious about what kind of wish a ‘Blood-Stained Terror’ could buy, but…”
I couldn’t just go around butchering strangers for my curiosity’s sake.
So I passed on that one.
After that, several more “evil” tasks appeared from time to time.
Their difficulty was always higher than the good ones —
unsurprisingly, since most of them involved killing people.
The rewards were greater too.
But still, I felt no pull toward them.
“I’m not some lunatic.”
I wasn’t the type to go around killing just anyone.
“Well… unless the target actually deserved to die.”
And right on cue — as if reading my mind —
a fitting task appeared before me.
<The Price of Just Retribution>
Kill ten evil men who deserve death.
That one sounded far better than those “small wish” things.
And it aligned perfectly with what I’d just been thinking.
But strangely… I didn’t feel it.
That sense that this was the right one.
So, a bit disappointed, I let the next page turn—
And that’s when an unexpected event occurred.
Shrrrrrrk!
Instead of turning one page at a time, the book’s pages suddenly flipped in a blur.
Startled, I almost reached out to grab them.
Thankfully, they stopped just before I did, and so did my hand.
But then—
<Price of a Very Small Wish>
Another dud.
And that wasn’t even the main problem.
“All that… and this is all that’s left?”
Because of that sudden burst, there were only a handful of pages remaining.
Five or so at most.
That meant someone wanted me to choose from among these few.
And that “someone,” obviously, was—
“Our dear Golden Shinseo seems to have lied.”
Able to interfere like this but claiming it couldn’t meddle? Please.
Still, I couldn’t help but laugh.
“No matter how you look at it, there isn’t a single task here I’d actually fail.”
Of course—
<The Price of Pain>
Gather all your blood relatives in one place, and sever every tie with your own hands.
—yeah, except for madness like that, which only psychos would attempt.
With that one gone, four pages remained.
<The Price of the Throne>
Ascend to a throne and be known as either a wise king or a tyrant.
Three left.
<The Price of a Lifetime – Death>
Live your life to the end, and on the day your lifespan ends,
receive the recompense equal to the number of people you have killed.
Two left.
<The Price of a Lifetime – Life>
Live your life to the end, and on the day your lifespan ends,
receive the recompense equal to the number of people you have saved.
That left only one final page.
Honestly, there wasn’t even a need to think long.
“Not great.”
Sure, saving lives wasn’t bad,
but the idea that I’d have to wait until death to make my wish —
that was what turned me off.
By the time you’re dying, how many wishes could you even make?
At best, something like “go to heaven” or “be reborn,” right?
Tempting for some maybe, but not for me.
Me, going to heaven? That’d mean Yeomra was slacking off.
Do you know how many souls I’ve sent his way?
Well, if they’d reward me for that with a ticket to heaven, I’d accept it.
As for reincarnation — I already had a fulfilling life now.
Why worry about the next one?
If I had to pick between saving and killing,
I’d choose the latter — because I was far better at it.
“Alright then. Let’s see what the final page says.”
At the exact moment I made up my mind, the page turned.
Finally — the last one.
If what was written there was underwhelming or outright bad,
I was ready to walk away and forget about wishes altogether.
But when I saw the final page, I hesitated.
The contents were… ambiguous — hard to judge even by my standards.
Reaching the last page had basically been a gamble.
Judging by the rainbow-like light shimmering from it, I had probably won that gamble.
Still, I wasn’t thrilled.
Because what was written there was—
<The Price of the Supreme Wish>
Grant one wish of the Golden Shinseo.
Up to “The Price of the Supreme Wish,” everything was perfect —
but what I had to do ruined it.
“So either way, success or failure, I end up granting its wish?”
Surely that wasn’t intentional… right?
I felt a flicker of doubt, but it didn’t really matter anymore.
The pages had reached the end, and the Golden Shinseo was closing.
At last, I made my decision.
“Well, screw it. Let’s do it.”
What’s the worst that could happen — dying? Big deal.
Without a moment’s hesitation, I reached toward the Golden Shinseo.
Thunk!
As if waiting for that exact moment,
the words on the final page began to change.
