Epilogue: If the center of the mountain is the valley of the dead

Chu Gi-oh, who had entered his forties this year, was a man who found the zest of life in truly peculiar places. It wasn't delicious food, nor was it a nice house or a fancy car, and it certainly wasn't sex with a woman so beautiful she'd make your head spin. Then what was it? It was 'ax-swinging.'

The sound of screams ringing in his ears, the sensation of bone being severed entirely, the surging smell of blood, and the silence that slowly began to settle. Stillness.

Whenever he swung his razor-sharp axe to chop off a grime-covered, filthy ankle, he would see a vision of the dull-colored leaves hanging from the tree of his own existence turning a vivid crimson, like autumn foliage. He wasn't unaware that it was an optical illusion caused by the blood spurting from the ankle, but since the feeling of seeing the vision wasn't unpleasant, he lived his life attributing his own kind of meaning to it. He figured if not then, when else would his life ever seem bright?