In the end, no amount of whining could sway Min-jun’s decision. Kang Hye held onto Min-jun’s durumagi and quietly pointed the way home, a one-room house sparsely decorated with the family’s belongings. A pot was boiling in the middle of the room, a fire ignited underneath it. It kept the cold out as well as it could, and in such a small space, they didn’t require much else. A solitary figure lay near the fire, huddled beneath a thin blanket.
“Momma?” Kang Hye called hesitantly. “I’m home.”
The woman shifted and sat up slowly, leaning her weight onto one side. One hand lifted as she embraced her son.
“I was wondering where you’d gone off to,” she said weakly, cupping the boy’s cheek. Over his shoulder, her eyes met Min-jun’s, who stood in the doorway “Is this your friend?”
“Mhm,” Kang Hye nodded. “This is Min-jun-nim, and I helped him with his job today.”
“I’m sure you did, my darling, with that clever mind of yours,” she said, patting his hair down. Min-jun spotted the bruising on her hands, the telling pallor of her skin.
“I also got lots of money,” Kang Hye bragged, waving his arms in the air excitedly.
“Hye-ya,” the woman exhaled, both exasperated and amused. “I told you to stomp that habit down. You’ll get in trouble someday.” She met Min-jun’s gaze again, looking apologetic. “He didn’t con you out of too much, I hope.”
“He deserves every piece of it,” Min-jun reassured. “He helped my friend’s and I a great deal.” He bowed slightly and shifted his feet, eager to leave the crowded room. “Then, I’ll take my leave.”
“Min-jun? Thank you, sir, for bringing Kang Hye back safely.”
“Yes ma’am,” Min-jun replied, hiding his unease. She’s ill. Very ill. One question came into his head after the next. Kang Hye seemed reluctant to return home before, but now he presented his mother with a small bundle of rice cakes.
“Look what Min-jun’s friends gave me!” Kang Hye grinned, pushing the stack into his mother’s hands. Min-jun took this moment to make his exit, satisfied to see that the two seemed content to be in each other’s company. How unfortunate that the mother was so sickly. He wondered what illness had befallen her . . .
Oh no. No, no, no. One person on the verge of death was enough to worry about. Never let a life fade if you can save it. Oh shush. He’d deal with this later. He had work to do.
. . .
“Huh,” Si-yeol wondered aloud, his neck craned back. “Scarlet butterflies. Who would’ve thought?”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“They’re beautiful,” Dae-yeong whispered in agreement, both arms wrapped around himself tightly. The night carried with it a brisk wind, but Min-jun doubted Dae-yeong held himself to keep out the cold. That was awe in his expression, an artist’s exaltation.
Min-jun could sympathize, as he looked across the maple grove, searching every shadow for the suspect. His heart pounded in his ears, as the thrill of the chase ebbed into jittery anxiety. With each second that passed, he hoped, prayed, that this was the rendezvous point. He couldn’t afford to be wrong.
“And noticeably vacant,” Eok-gi added. Min-jun clenched his jaw.
Not vacant. The suspect must be hiding. This maple grove boasted the most brilliant leaves in all of Wolgwang City, and unlike most of the other maples, they never changed color. Min-jun had always thought this place to be otherworldly, memorable. Perhaps he’d taken their one lead too literally?
“You’re looking in the wrong direction. Perhaps you shouldn’t rely so strongly on your senses.”
Min-jun’s companions turned in the direction of the unfamiliar voice, his words carrying a melody with them. Sing-song? A tall man stood behind them, his eyes more red than brown, and his face painted with an assortment of cosmetics. His eyelids were a shadowy black, and his lips bright red, cheeks tinted pink. He wore it well, the makeup accentuating his handsome features, making them sharper, bolder, demanding attention from every person that laid eyes on his face.
So, he’d been right the first time? But, Song couldn’t hold such power! Then again, what did Min-jun know? Mother had left him in the dark about everything concerning Gifteds. How was he to catch onto the subtle workings of a person’s Gift?
“You seem surprised,” Song said. “Did the boy not describe me in enough detail? I thought he looked rather clever.”
“Your face . . .” Hyun-woo trailed off.
“Ah, yes, I suppose you don’t normally look upon the face of a master cosmetician.”
“It looks like blood,” Dae-yeong whispered to Eok-gi.
“Wrong!” Song said, pointing at the boy. “Though I do use animal blood in some of my formulas, this . . .” He gestured to his red lips. “Is a mixture of vermillion and animal fat, designed to last longer than most lip products, my good painter.”
“Enough with the pleasantries,” Ha-jil interrupted. “Are you the man who attacked Min-jun’s . . . who is he again?”
“He’s . . . my employer of sorts.”
Song’s eyes gleamed with humor at his omission. Min-jun scowled at him, daring him to say a single word otherwise.
“I wouldn’t call it an attack,” Song hummed, unperturbed. He looked at Min-jun’s companions, and raised a brow, “And I don’t see why this involves all of you.”
“Leave us,” Min-jun said. “There’s too many people. We won’t get anything out of him like this.”
“Are you crazy? We can’t leave you alone with him,” Hyun-woo insisted, the voice of reason. Min-jun sighed quietly. “Who knows what he’s got up his sleeve?”
Song put one hand on his hip, a small, affronted frown on his face. “A very lovely rouge, if you must know.”
“I’ll be alright.” Min-jun wasn’t sure he could assure them. “Go stand somewhere you can see us without listening in,” he added. “Spread out and keep an eye on him. If he tries to escape, at least two of us will have the upper hand on him.”
“Hmm, a few weeks among royalty and he’s acting like the King himself.” Si-yeol’s teasing grin undercut all the mockery in his voice. “What do you think, boss?”
Ha-jil had been frozen in thought for a while, mulling over the question with his decades of experience. If he disagreed, Min-jun knew there would be no convincing the others.
Sighing, Ha-jil nodded his head. “From what I can see, Min-jun is the one who knows the situation best. The rest of us might be of better use from a distance if that’s what he suggests.”
“That’s that then,” Si-yeol said, shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head. “Don’t die, Min-jun, it’d be a bother to drag your dead corpse through the city.”
That was the closest thing to concern Min-jun would get from Si-yeol. Dae-yeong had the decency to at least look worried for his safety as the others turned to follow Ha-jil, leaving Min-jun and Song to deal with one another.
“You’re not the attacker.” Min-jun said.
“What makes you so sure?”
Min-jun frowned. This man, the one behind it all . . . none of it added up in his mind. It was absurd! Besides, they’d been together in the brothel when the last rash of Time’s Plague hit.
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“Since when do we have any sense, my darling.” Song sat down at the tree, leaning back against the trunk. “Relax. You’re far too tense.”
“Did Mother send you? Am I to let him die?”
“You can do whatever you want.” Song put his hands behind his head. “I’m not here on official business.”
Min-jun regarded him skeptically, brow furrowing. Mother, letting her dogs loose? Unlikely.
“Mother hasn’t sent me. At least, not officially,” Song shrugged. “Although, she’s likely dipped her fingers into the mind of that poor soul you and your friends are looking for. You’re familiar with that feeling, I reckon.”
They all were. Mother twisted minds as easily as she dealt out destinies.
“Then who’s responsible for the curse?”
“I can’t tell you that,” Song replied. “You’re an investigator. What sort of investigator gets the answers handed to them?”
“Then what did you contact me for?”
“I’ve come to wish you good luck.” Song pushed off the tree and reached out to pat his head. “You were always my favorite canvas, after all.”
“Good luck.” Min-jun scoffed, averting his eyes, hands on his hips. “Good luck saving my target?”
“Good luck with what’s to come.”
“Pardon?”
Song laughed, lightly. “Take advantage of this moment where Mother can’t reach you, hmm?” He walked away, taking long strides past Min-jun, and then stalled, staring off into the distance. “The King was not their target.”
Min-jun froze, his breath hitched. “What?”
“It was you. He got sick as part of an exchange. It was all quite touching.”
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and the little discoveries it brought along the way! If you did, let me know by leaving a comment down below. Thank you!
Beta Reader: Curio (Thank you, Curio)
Hmmm. I have been wondering what “Mother’s “ true intentions with MJ might be. With all the weapons in her arsenal, why the long-term investment and elaborate plot hinging on him…so many more layers to peel.
Thanks fir the chapter!
🧐 Looks like we’re gonna have to do some detective work to figure out Mother’s motivations.
King must have utmost trust and confidence in Min Jun to save his life. Was this Mother’s original plan ? Or is discarding Min Jun because he can’t kill the King?
I love seeing all these theories! Hopefully, your questions will be answered soon!
Shouldn’t Min-jun be wondering if Mother has a gift for manipulating minds or emotions or something? Maybe he’s the target because he found out about gifted people.
that’s a very good point that I might steal! jk, unless . . .
I’m gonna say that Min-jun is probably too focused on saving Cheol rn, so trying to figure out Mother’s Gift isn’t high on his list of priorities? But perhaps, seeing the true suspect will make him pause to consider it 🤔
His concern for his king is so giving me so much hope for both of them ❤️.
I am confusion and need answers… must read more… but no chapters 😭
I hope your confusion will be cleared up in the next few chapters 😭
Hmmmmmmm cryptic, thanks for the chapter!
Hello! Thank you for commenting! We enjoy being cryptic around here heheh
(⊙o⊙)
I’m wondering why Mother would hide all about the Gifted from Min-jun. Is she Gifted? Is he? I’ve wondered for some time now, but that line about her manipulating destinies really made me wonder if that’s her Gift. This is so much fun to think about!