Chapter 3
“Ren?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a rather plain name.”
“What kind of special name would a street girl have?”
Rix frowned slightly.
Ren? At the old woman’s words, Suji became certain.
She wasn’t Rena. It was clear once again that this girl wasn’t the main character.
Then what on earth is this situation? Where in the novel could this be?
Rix’s golden eyes met the blue ones from the shadows.
It felt like the pressure tightening around her neck was because of that.
His gaze was so piercingly beautiful it was almost irritating.
In a calm voice, he said:
“I need to see it with my own eyes.”
The old woman remained silent. No one dared to oppose his words.
Only now did the weight of the title “prince” he bore begin to sink in.
“Take her to the forest tomorrow evening.”
“The forest? Wouldn’t that be dangerous?”
The old woman spoke with concern, but Rix was nonchalant.
“If that woman is the real deal, she’ll come back alive even from the monster-infested forest.”
“Your Highness!”
“That’s enough.”
She protested, but Rix silenced her by placing his index finger on his red lips.
With that single gesture, he cut her off.
Then, he coldly looked Suji up and down again. Her whole body felt electrified.
He turned his back. With every step he took, bloody footprints stained the white floor again.
* * *
“You want to bathe alone?”
She nodded. The maids who had tried to undress her looked troubled and stepped back.
The old woman, leaning on her cane, stared silently at her. When Suji showed no signs of backing down, the old woman sighed and nodded.
“Typical of a street rat, I suppose.”
She kept saying “street this, street that”—it was annoying. Even though she wasn’t really from the streets, no one had ever taken care of her, so she could relate.
Ren was probably alone too.
That’s why no one came looking when she was left behind here.
It left a bitter feeling.
“I’ll leave someone outside. Ring the bell when you’re done.”
The old woman tapped a small bell on the table with her cane.
A clear chime echoed through the night.
Leaving someone outside meant: don’t even think about running.
Not that she could do anything even if she tried—she knew nothing.
But the owner of this body was utterly alone.
She nodded obediently.
Seeing that she had no intention of escaping, the old woman finally turned away. The two maids who had come to assist Suji also withdrew.
As soon as the door closed, Suji quickly approached the mirror. In the center of the towering mirror, she was reflected fully.
Min Suji examined “Ren” from head to toe.
Long, voluminous silver curls. Sky-blue eyes like clear skies and drifting clouds.
Suji touched the reflection of Ren.
In The Saint’s Dilemma, the heroine’s eyes were described as deep lakes with glimmers of light. Compared to that, her eyes were far too sky-blue. And the heroine had straight hair, didn’t she?
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. She had read the novel so intensely that she remembered even the descriptions vividly.
She mentally pieced those descriptions together and compared them to her reflection. Similar, yet different.
It was a reader’s instinct.
She was sure. This place was the Temple of the Goddess Fiora—the central setting of The Saint’s Dilemma.
But now, Min Suji’s name was Ren. Not Rena, the heroine.
So who exactly was Ren?
When would the real heroine appear?
Before the story started? After the ending? Would she appear at all?
She was confused. No, “confused” didn’t begin to cover it.
It felt like her whole world had flipped upside down.
Her gaze dropped to her hands, which had been touching the mirror.
She spread her fingers wide. Then curled them and stretched them out again. Her movements were fluid.
Her fingers were long and slender.
Suji traced the smooth loops of her fingerprints, which had once been burned away.
She felt the soft texture of delicate skin. Tender.
She slowly raised her hand to her face.
Her fingers moved along the delicate contours, like carving a sculpture.
When her fingertip reached her chin, she looked in the mirror again.
Ren’s lips curved into a soft smile. It didn’t sting or hurt.
She was beautiful.
Min Suji no longer existed in the reflection.
She had died miserably in Korea, having lost everything.
Now, she was Ren.
“I am Ren…”
Min Suji whispered softly.
Accepting her new name wasn’t as difficult as she thought.
* * *
With no hairdryer, drying her hair was hopeless. Water dripped from her shoulders. She pressed a soft towel gently against it and rang the small bell.
Soon, the two maids who had originally come to assist her appeared. They showed up like ghosts and silently led her somewhere.
They didn’t say a single word to Ren.
Also, this place was a temple, not a noble’s mansion. The open corridors let in the chilly night breeze, making her shiver.
“Achoo!”
They turned around at her sneeze. She gave a sheepish smile and sniffled. Still, they said nothing.
The two moons lit up the bright night.
They brought Ren to a secluded room.
A single window, a bed, a table.
It was modest but decent enough.
Then again, it would be odd for a temple to be decked out in gold.
The women lit a small fireplace as soon as they entered.
Ren flinched without realizing.
The fire was warm, but she didn’t want to be near it.
She thought they might be excluding her because they only communicated with each other through glances, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
They were simply silent.
The room warmed up quickly.
They bowed and left without a word.
Whether that was kindness or caution, she couldn’t tell.
No phone, nothing to do—she just zoned out.
While others might enjoy staring into a fire, for her it was painful. The crackling of the firewood frightened her.
But she couldn’t endure the cold if she put it out, so she wrapped herself in the blanket and tried to sleep.
That’s when someone knocked on the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
It was the old woman’s voice.
When she opened the door, the woman, much smaller than Ren, stood upright with perfect posture.
She looked up at Ren and said:
“May I come in for a moment?”
She nodded. It wasn’t really “her” room anyway.
The old woman entered without hesitation, pulled out a chair, and sat down naturally—like she owned the place.
Well, as the High Priestess, perhaps she was the master of this temple.
Sitting face to face with her made eye contact feel burdensome.
The old woman looked directly at her with unreadable deep-blue eyes and said:
“Do you remember what happened before you collapsed?”
Of course not.
She didn’t even know who she was.
Ren shook her head. Since they thought she collapsed, she figured it was best to go with the “amnesia” route.
Surprisingly, the old woman nodded like she expected that. She had likely assumed Ren wouldn’t remember.
“You came to the temple to sell this.”
She took out a .38 caliber revolver and pushed it across the table. It scraped against the rough wood. It was the gun Ren had used to kill the monster.
The only link between Ren and Min Suji.
As Ren reached for it, the old woman swiftly pulled it back. She had remarkably fast reflexes for an elderly woman.
Staring intently at her, she said:
“You claimed you could kill monsters without leaving a trace. You said it came from beyond Lake Tarkana and asked for 10,000 gold. Still don’t remember?”
She didn’t know how much 10,000 gold was in Korean money, but judging by the tone and expression, it wasn’t a small sum.
Trying to make a deal with an old revolver that might not even work.
This Ren woman must have been no ordinary person either.
And “Lake Tarkana”—that had been mentioned a few times in the novel.
Though it never appeared directly, it was called an “unknown land.” Occasionally, foreign objects would appear, and the heroine of The Saint’s Dilemma speculated that they came from beyond Lake Tarkana.
Even the protagonist didn’t know much about it.
And the novel was unfinished, so she couldn’t get any more detailed information.
After thinking it over, she chose not to answer.
She didn’t nod, didn’t shake her head, didn’t show surprise or confusion. She stuck to the “amnesia” script.
The old woman sighed shortly.
“Seems you won’t need bullets today.”
“…”
“…What was your previous name?”
Previous name?
Her whole body felt encased in ice. The warmth of the room dropped instantly. The old woman didn’t look away.
This, she couldn’t avoid. Something told her she mustn’t be found out.
She had to remain “Ren.”
Min Suji was already dead.
“I don’t know.”
She pushed down the tension rising in her throat as she spoke.
Hoping the woman wouldn’t sense her anxiety.
Fortunately, the questions stopped there. The old woman handed the gun to Ren.
The revolver sat alone in the center of the table.
Gripping her cane, the old woman stood. The sound of the chair scraping against the floor was sharp.
She walked to the door without a word. Just as she reached the handle, she turned around.
For the first time, their eyes met properly.
“I am High Priestess Hatasha. From now on, call me Lady Hatasha.”
“…Yes.”
Satisfied with the answer, she opened the door without hesitation.
As the door closed, only the crackling of the fire remained.
Ren stared blankly at the revolver.
Her hand rose as if pulled by a marionette’s string. As if someone else was controlling her.
She traced the gun with her index finger.
It was cold. When she had shot the “monster,” it had burned like fire gripping her heart.
Shooting had been most of Min Suji’s life. It was part of her—like the water in a human body.
She had cursed the fire that took it all away countless times.
Not because of the burns, but because her dream had gone up in flames.
But now, she could feel the gun again.
Her heart raced.
She held the gun, as if it were her own heart, and pressed it to her chest.
The familiar scent of iron, the weight, the way it fit into her palm.
She would never lose it again.
She bit her lip and made a silent vow.
