TKS 13

Chapter 13

“She asked me what exactly the injury I was treating was.”

“I heard. I was in the shadows, remember?”

That left him in a sour mood. To think his loyal friend would treat him like some eavesdropper?

Not that he was even human in the first place. And even if he were to speak out about it, there was no reason he’d ever harm Hwan-jae or that woman.

She had walked away knowing nothing, unable to even recognize the traces he’d left behind. That much was only natural.

“Hwan-jae, answer me. If I hadn’t been listening, would you have told her? To someone you’ve barely just met?”

“Of course not.”

“And later?”

“If she signed a contract and swore an oath, then maybe. It wouldn’t be impossible.”

Lucy had to stifle the laugh bubbling up inside. This man didn’t even realize how contradictory his words and actions were.

He could understand, though. Anyone who had suffered unbearable pain for so long would lose their mind the moment they glimpsed a chance at relief.

And so Lucy found it amusing. Hwan-jae had lived as if all his desires had been severed, hadn’t he?

“My dearest friend, I’m actually very optimistic about this situation. Do you know what I mean?”

“Not a clue.”

“Until now, you’ve acted like nothing ever pleased you, like a man forever parched even after reaching the summit. Do you know how much I’ve lamented, seeing the first human to sign a contract with me since the dawn of this world turn out this way?”

It was a pity, being assigned a “client.” He didn’t even get to choose his own humans.

Lucy floated up into the air and hovered right in front of his eyes. When ignoring him became impossible, Jung Hwan-jae sighed and lifted his head.

In his eyes, flames swirled. Deep, deep within—so deep only those with the highest magical perception could see.

“Too bad I’m not the kind of human you like.”

“I never said I didn’t like you. Just that you’re unexpected. Besides, without someone like you, I wouldn’t even have a contractor.”

Hwan-jae closed his eyes. Lucy placed his small hand gently on the man’s eyelid.

A breeze swept through, pulling something out of him. Yet in this sealed space, there was no reason for wind at all.

Somewhere, very slowly, magic began to flow.

“Having your mana leak out regularly like this must be troublesome, isn’t it?”

“……”

“Mana is tied to life force. So your life force constantly drains away—and in the end, you even need help from your assigned staff.”

Lucy let out a tinkling laugh. But the dryness hidden in it could not be concealed.

It was a symptom without explanation. Even if Lucy knew the cause, he could never reveal it to a mere human.

‘Balder has acknowledged the severity of the matter and decided to replace your assigned staff. It was judged that the current staff lacks the capacity to properly support your condition.’

‘Then what changes?’

That was when Lucy was released from his seal. A seal that had lasted thousands of years—like a time bomb waiting to explode.

When Lucy’s name appeared on the staff roster, the others exchanged dubious looks.

Would Jung Hwan-jae truly be able to control him?

Or would Balder face yet another disaster, with lives lost and Lucy sealed away again within mere days?

“Let’s resolve this like business.”

“That’s your first greeting? You’re bolder than I expected. A change of staff is considered a ‘special privilege,’ after all.”

In the end, it was Lucy who found himself bound. Among all his contractors before the seal, Jung Hwan-jae was the most peculiar.

Anyone else, with even a little knowledge of staff hierarchy, would have been blinded by power the moment they learned someone of Lucy’s standing had been assigned to them.

But Hwan-jae treated Lucy like an automated response service. Enough to bruise Lucy’s pride.

So… had he been completely controlled? Hard to say.

“It was the first time.”

“What was?”

“That the leaking actually stopped. Since my awakening, I’ve lived my entire life with that sensation.”

Maybe that’s why… I felt something strange toward her.

His muttered words weren’t really spoken to Lucy—more like to himself.

Lucy hovered silently around him, watching from the closest distance. But he couldn’t share in the sensation.

That ecstasy Hwan-jae felt—Lucy couldn’t understand it.

Suddenly, he recalled what the other staff often said:

‘Humans are unlike any other contractors. Their inexplicable sides stir our curiosity.’

‘That’s why so many of us end up sacrificing ourselves to protect them.’

Lucy began withdrawing his manifested body. At that same moment, Hwan-jae opened his eyes.

Lucy grinned.

“Humans aren’t the kind to stay bound just because you want them to. Take Ye-ah, for example. Everyone has a weakness to exploit.”

“Weren’t you the one who said staff couldn’t interfere with others’ contractors?”

Lucy had been about to launch into a speech on seduction tactics, but Hwan-jae cut him off and changed the subject.

Suppressing his annoyance, Lucy sighed. Even as his body faded away, he nodded, and Hwan-jae’s face grew serious.

What, planning to ask me to persuade her staff next if you can find out who it is?

They could confirm the identity of each other’s assigned staff, sure. But Lucy had no intention of lifting a finger for such an ungrateful contractor.

Every time his mana and life force drained away, Lucy was the one replenishing him. Yet he gave more of his heart to that dreadful singer—and Lucy found himself proud of it.

Disgusting.

“Contractors with staff have protections. Don’t touch those bound to higher-ranked staff. Staff don’t attack each other. Things like that. Details are classified, though.”

“Then if I approached Ye-ah, her staff couldn’t strike me? You’re that high-ranked?”

Lucy almost shouted in rage—Hey!—but restrained himself.

Instead, once his form had vanished completely, he fired off a staff message.

[Lucy: Of course. Why do you ask?]

Hwan-jae looked forward and answered calmly—loud enough to be heard.

“Because I intend to try a more… human approach.”

* * *

Everyone has memories like this, don’t they?
As a child, piling up boxes and blankets, imagining them as a secret base.

Pretending the surroundings were wild jungles full of danger, while you built the safest fortress in the world.

Sometimes your base could move. Sometimes it could fly. It could be anything you imagined.

“How about a private singing booth like this one?”

“You mean… a booth that moves wherever I move? And I can even install one in the dormitory?”

“Yes.”

But she had never once wanted a moving booth. All she had ever wished for was a coin karaoke place near home.