By Zephyria “Was that the original purpose of that shopping district? The structure was unique.”
“Don’t know. Not mine.”
“To think only a few people used that place… it’s true that money is everything.”
“Didn’t I say it’s not mine? You’re not understanding me today.”
Director Gil replied in a stiff voice and took a bite of the pie with a crisp sound.
He wasn’t a big eater, so it was unexpected for him to be eating in this situation. He devoured half of the fist-sized pie in an instant, rinsed his mouth with tea, and continued.
“Your old man got that basement. We did the installation, but the ownership isn’t on our side.”
“You built it yourselves?”
“Did we really build it? We just brought in prototypes and decorated the existing space.”
Director Gil’s eyes turned upward as if he was recalling his memories. After a pause, he let out a bitter laugh and asked.
“Is that place still running?”
“Roughly. The information processing is working properly, too. Though most of the data is lost.”
“Someone must have deleted it. Either Seong-jo or someone else.”
“Someone else…”
Jin Mu-hae glanced to the side before bringing up the main topic. Joo-oh was sitting close by, eating pie.
The speed at which he usually devoured food like a crab was nowhere to be seen; he was carefully chewing and savoring each bite.
He didn’t seem interested in the conversation between the two. Mu-hae cleared his throat unnecessarily and turned his gaze to Director Gil.
“I saw the records. I don’t know if it’s a memo or a conversation log.”
“……”
“I came here thinking it might be my father’s record, and it seems like it is.”
This time, Director Gil seemed quite startled. As if anticipating the questions that would follow, his face darkened.
“There were four of you?”
“What?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
His evasion made it even easier to understand. In their group in the past, there was one more helper besides the three Mu-hae knew well.
He couldn’t know their gender or age, but they must have been quite close. Just like Director Gil and Teacher Jung were now, as evidenced by the intimate conversations left in the logs…
Why was that person’s existence completely erased from his father’s records, and why was no one mentioning them?
Perhaps that person met an unfortunate end, like the Return flight’s demise, making it difficult to talk about. Or maybe their relationship simply fell apart.
“You don’t have to ask me…”
“……”
“You’ll find out eventually.”
Director Gil completely turned his gaze away and finished the tea in his cup. It was hard to tell if he didn’t want to tell him or couldn’t tell him.
What was certain was that he wouldn’t get any answers from him even if he kept pressing. Mu-hae took a step back and picked up a pie topped with red jam.
The crust that crumbled in his mouth was savory and salty, but it was still too sweet for Mu-hae’s taste.
He glanced to the side and saw Joo-oh looking at the pie in his hand with sparkling eyes.
Did he want to eat this? Mu-hae offered the pie he had taken a bite of, and Joo-oh gladly approached and took it obediently.
“Mmm. Fake cherry.”
“Didn’t I tell you not to call food fake when you’re eating it?”
“But it is fake.”
He was so fascinated by the way he only moved his head to take a bite that he watched him closely, even catching the crumbs that fell to prevent them from dirtying the sofa or the floor, as Director Gil would surely nag him if they did.
The way his cheeks moved as he chewed was amusing for some reason. Mu-hae controlled the slight twitch of his lips and turned his head back, only to find Director Gil looking at them with a strange expression.
Oops. He had been distracted from the serious conversation. Mu-hae quickly dusted off his empty hand on his pants and smoothly transitioned to another topic.
“Oh, right. Gu-reum. I’m still in contact with her.”
“……And?”
“I get a somewhat strange feeling. It’s hard to grasp her intentions.”
“Intentions?”
Director Gil erased his strange expression and focused on the conversation. Mu-hae organized his thoughts about what had happened with Gu-reum and slowly began to speak.
“I know she’s helping me with the deal, but the scale is bigger than I thought.”
“Why? What did she do again?”
“To be honest, I even feel like she’s similar to my father. Not because of what she does for me, but because she keeps giving me homework.”
Jin Mu-hae tapped his left wrist. The records in the Link Watch were nothing short of a task left by his father.
Of course, he had little interaction with him during his lifetime, but the mission he received after his death was a constant test.
Mu-hae somehow felt a similar sensation from Gu-reum.
“She doesn’t have that much power, so why would she go to such lengths for me?”
“Ahem.”
“Besides, Gu-reum said this when we first met. That I resemble that woman.”
As soon as the story about Gu-reum’s identity came up, Director Gil once again tried to avoid the conversation, but he reacted to the last words and widened his eyes.
However, his gaze soon turned elsewhere. He still had no intention of mentioning this topic.
“Just tell me this. Was my mother also on the Return flight?”
“……”
“Gu-reum seemed to know. I can roughly guess, but… it’s better to hear it directly. That’s why I’m asking.”
Unlike his father, who had influenced Jin Mu-hae’s life like a shadow, there was no trace of his mother.
It wasn’t that he had any lingering attachment to a guardian who had never been there. He was just curious. He just wanted to know how she had been involved in the Return flight, from its perspective.
“……Yes. She was there.”
After a long pause, Director Gil answered as if he couldn’t help it. A complex emotion flashed across his face.
Mu-hae nodded silently and took a few sips of the cold water in his cup. He had already known this since Gu-reum had subtly mentioned his mother, but hearing the confirmation directly made him feel a little strange.
“Jin Mu-hae. Eat mine.”
A small cup suddenly approached Mu-hae’s expressionless face. It was a warm teacup.
Only half of the tea was left, and gentle ripples were forming on the surface.
“You eat it.”
“It’s delicious, this.”
The voice repeatedly urging him was pleasant to hear, so Mu-hae reluctantly took the tea and moistened his lips.
At first, he would snatch other people’s food, but at some point, he started putting things he thought were delicious into Mu-hae’s mouth.
It was annoying, but it was a great improvement. At least now, he was less likely to wander around drooling because he wasn’t being bought food.
Mu-hae completely emptied the liquid, which he didn’t know what it tasted like, and returned the cup to Joo-oh.
His blank face broke into a bright smile as if relieved. He seemed to have sensed the atmosphere and was relieved that Mu-hae had poked him and reacted as usual.
“Is that all you’re curious about?”
“Yeah, well. For now.”
Mu-hae stretched his stiff shoulders and made a cracking sound. Staying any longer would only make Director Gil uncomfortable, and it didn’t seem like he would hear any other stories.
“I’ll be going. Contact me when you fix the hook.”
As he said a short goodbye and got up, Joo-oh quickly got up from his seat and followed him.
“And I really came for multiple reasons. To check the equipment and to bring the pie. Someone kept pestering me to buy it.”
Mu-hae gestured to the side with a nonchalant voice. Director Gil’s eyes followed him and turned to Joo-oh.
Joo-oh nodded his head and held onto Mu-hae’s arm tightly. It was a similar expression to when he had given Director Gil the strange Tetelong mascot figurine before.
“You must have found more records?”
“Probably. I’ll take a look and come again.”
Director Gil’s expression softened a lot. Mu-hae shook his head slightly, thinking of his mother’s existence, which was only passed down like an oral legend, and moved his feet.
If she was really deeply involved in the Return flight’s affairs, it would appear in the records someday. If it wasn’t immediately necessary, it was good for his mental health to cut off all the branches and only think about the goal.
That was the truth he had learned from rolling around in dangerous places as a mercenary for the past seven years, and it was the secret to living the same daily life while saving a large sum of money that he didn’t know when he would need.
Project Solar47
Record of 047
There is a common archetype that exists in the unconscious of humanity.
This appears no differently to modern humans living in isolation, and everyone vaguely shares the thoughts that any human would have thought of.
Those who dreamed of a new world existed in abundance even before the cataclysm. It’s just that this time it became the Return flight, and this desire is bound to appear anywhere, not just here in Goryeo City.
It is no coincidence that the Return flight had collaborators all over the world. If there had not been restrictions on communication between cities, more groups would have united for the same ideal.
At this moment, the goal of these subversive elements is to create a ‘reset’ button. Research on Crystal Blue has been steadily ongoing since the date of its occurrence, and with each new theory presented, hypotheses about crystal generation are added along with the availability of energy.
.
.
.
“What is this even saying.”
Mu-hae, who was looking through the newly obtained records, sighed and leaned back on the sofa.
The author clearly felt like they were writing it in an easy-to-understand way, even adding trivial preliminary explanations, but from Mu-hae’s perspective, who was far from cultured, it was rather less intuitive.
Still, roughly summarizing, it was about another group with the same goals as the Return flight. Not just in Goryeo City where they stayed, but in various other cities as well.
Mu-hae suddenly recalled the first aid kit he had picked up in the Buckta area. The Solar City emblem under the medicine bottle. Joo-oh, who recognized it at once and had a look on his face that said he understood something…
“Jin Mu-hae.”
Speak of the devil, Joo-oh, who had been lying in the study, had somehow come outside and plopped down next to him, calling his name.
Mu-hae checked the time to see if it was mealtime, then turned to look at his smooth, white face.
“What did Jin Seong-jo say?”
That’s right. He was about to answer casually, but his eyebrows twitched. What did he just say?
“You shouldn’t call other people’s parents by their names. And how do you even know that name?”
“Director Gil said it. But I just call Jin Mu-hae Jin Mu-hae too.”
“Because I’m not someone else’s parent.”
“If Jin Mu-hae has a baby Jin Mu-hae, can’t I call him by his name?”
It was a total mess, and he didn’t know where to start pointing things out. Don’t call him by his name only when the person is in front of you? You shouldn’t call someone else’s child a baby?
He certainly wasn’t socialized at all. He was belatedly making a ‘was that so?’ kind of expression, but Mu-hae somehow felt like letting things be in his already mentally chaotic state.
“Do whatever you want.”
“Okay.”
The sweet baritone voice answering so coolly was truly annoying and hateful.
Mu-hae pushed his head away for no reason and roughly organized and deleted the Hologram Window that had appeared in front of him.