Chapter 128: Chapter 128

“Wait. I need a more detailed explanation. You’re saying her soul has been... dragged away?”

Jung Bin looked anxiously at Yun Gaeul, who lay unconscious on the operating table. Nam Woojin, who was poking at the glowing orb with his finger, responded indifferently.

“Just as I said. The body here is nothing but an empty shell.”

“But…”

Jung Bin trailed off, his eyes fixed on Gaeul’s chest, which rose and fell in a steady rhythm. He stepped closer, gently touching the red marks on her wrist. Her pulse was still beating. She was alive. According to Nam Woojin, though, she was alive despite lacking her soul.

“If that’s the case, then how is her body still functioning? I mean, she’s breathing on her own without any life support.”

“That’s beyond my knowledge. This is the first time I’ve encountered a case where the entire soul has been pulled into another realm. I’ll have to conduct more research to understand.”

“...”

“Don’t give me that look. You know, I’ve barely scratched the surface when it comes to this kind of stuff.”

Nam Woojin tapped his temple with his index finger, a rueful smile on his face. Jung Bin sighed.

“Yes, you’re right.”

“Still, I have some guesses… Oh, there it is.”

Nam Woojin’s eyes scanned the room before he spotted a whiteboard shoved into a corner. He dragged it over, kicking away the pile of books in its path. Jung Bin opened his mouth to comment but decided against it.

The whiteboard was filled with illegible remnants of what was once written, now too faded to decipher. Nam Woojin lazily wiped the board with an old eraser and uncapped a black marker. He started to scribble something but quickly paused, realizing the marker was dry. Sighing, Jung Bin finally spoke up.

“How long has it been since you used that board?”

“Don’t ask me. It wasn’t that long ago.”

“Master.”

A young boy quickly approached, offering Nam Woojin a box of markers. Nam Woojin accepted it and ruffled the boy’s hair roughly.

“Good boy.”

“Yes, Master.”

The boy smiled brightly before vanishing from sight. Jung Bin shook his head in disbelief.

“Is it even possible for you to function without those marionettes?”

“Don’t ask. Let’s get back to the matter at hand.”

With a pop, Nam Woojin uncapped a fresh marker and began to draw on the board. He sketched something that vaguely resembled a person, then added a small circle above its head. Jung Bin narrowed his eyes.

“That’s supposed to be... Yun Gaeul?”

“Sharp as ever.”

Jung Bin glanced back at Gaeul, who lay with her hair messily tied up in a bun.

“You see, Yun Gaeul’s ability is one of the most unique out there. It’s closer to the system itself than any other power. In a world governed by the system’s laws... that’s significant power. And it makes her an exception.”

“That... is true.”

“Plus, she’s someone who’s been permitted to see fragments of the world by the system itself.”

Nam Woojin twirled a strand of his white hair around his finger, a faint smile on his scorched white eyes.

“Unlike me.”

“...”

“Anyway, her soul has been dragged into another world. The question is, could the system have predicted something like this?”

Jung Bin hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Nam Woojin tapped the whiteboard with the back of his marker, as if to prompt an answer.

“I doubt it. This probably happened out of nowhere.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Hey, kid.”

“Yes, Master.”

The boy reappeared, handing Jung Bin a small dagger the size of an adult’s palm. Startled, Jung Bin accepted the weapon and asked:

“What is this?”

“Stab her. Yun Gaeul, I mean.”

“Excuse me?”

Jung Bin’s voice rose in disbelief. Nam Woojin clicked his tongue in annoyance.

“Do you think I’m telling you to murder her? Just prick her fingertip, like when they do a blood test before a donation.”

“...”

“What, can’t do it? Should I do it myself?”

“No, I can handle it.”

Jung Bin exhaled slowly and approached Gaeul’s body. He lifted her hand carefully and pricked the tip of her finger with the dagger.

In that instant—

“Ugh!”

A burst of brilliant white light flashed from her hand. Jung Bin instinctively shielded his eyes and stumbled backward. When the light faded, he saw that Gaeul’s finger was completely unharmed, without a single mark. Jung Bin’s eyes widened in shock.

“This is...”

“That’s why her body is still functioning even without her soul.”

“Are you saying the system itself is sustaining her?”

“It won’t last forever, though.”

Nam Woojin capped the marker and set it down.

“The system has to manage countless things. Even though she’s closely tied to it, the system can’t devote all its attention to her alone. It’s temporary.”

“So, you’re saying there’s a time limit. Is there a way to save her?”

“I don’t know. She’s the only one who’s been to that world. The rest of us only know it secondhand—we have no connection to it. Unless there’s someone else who’s seen that world…”n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

“...”

“All we have are theories at this point. And unfortunately, the only person who could explain it...”

Nam Woojin sighed, his scorched eyes glowing eerily.

“Is lying there, unconscious.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. Though Gaeul was still breathing, there was no telling when that would stop. Nam Woojin muttered under his breath, his pale eyes flickering.

“Why Yun Gaeul? Why her...”

Jung Bin glanced down at Gaeul with concern. His eyes landed on the necklace around her neck. Were students even allowed to wear accessories like that these days? Curiously, he examined the necklace more closely, spotting a silver, square-shaped object tucked behind her neck. He reached out and carefully pulled it into view.

*HYS*

Jung Bin’s expression hardened.

“Sorry, but I’m going to borrow this.”

He gently lifted Gaeul’s head and removed the necklace. Nam Woojin, lost in thought as he stared at the whiteboard, looked up and adjusted his glasses.

“What is it? Did you find something?”

Jung Bin fiddled with the necklace, giving a short reply.

“I’m about to find out. Please take care of Gaeul while I’m gone.”

“Where are you going?”

“...”

Jung Bin clenched the necklace tightly, his voice steely as he answered.

“Bukhansan.”

---

Cha Uijae opened his eyes.

He was slumped over a table inside the dark hangover soup restaurant, his head resting on his arms. Slowly, he sat up.

‘What the...? Did I fall asleep?’

He felt groggy, his body heavy and sluggish. He wasn’t sure why he was so tired; business had been the same as usual. Uijae blinked, trying to shake off the drowsiness.

“...”

The familiar surroundings felt oddly foreign. A strange uneasiness crept up inside him. He clenched and unclenched his hands, but they were clean.

The golden scar—the proof of his contract with Lee Sayoung—was gone.

His eyes widened. At that moment, there was a soft knock at the door. *Knock, knock, knock.* Uijae stood up immediately, scanning the area for anything he could use to defend himself. His gaze fell on a bent soup ladle, and without hesitation, he grabbed it.

The knocking continued. *Knock, knock, knock.*

The situation was too suspicious for him to speak up. Tension etched on his face, Uijae cautiously approached the door. Through the glass panel at the top of the metal door, he caught sight of curly brown hair.

“...”

There was only one person he knew with hair like that.

‘But...’

He bit his lip.

He felt no pain.

The knocking stopped. A small voice followed.

“...J.”

The voice and the hair were familiar, but Uijae didn’t lower his guard. He tightened his grip on the ladle.

The voice, after a long pause, whispered again.

“I’m sorry for coming here like this. But... this really was the best I could do. I tried my best.”

“...”

“Oh, you don’t have to respond. Just... just listen.”

The hesitant voice continued.

“Do you remember? The fragment of the world I showed you, the one where—where J... Yeah, that world. The piece that I said came from a destroyed world...”

“...”

“Well... I think I’ve ended up in that destroyed world. I don’t know how it happened, but... I couldn’t reach anyone else. I tried to find Jung Bin, but you’re the only one I could get to. Damn it, why does this keep happening...”

The voice grew more desperate, wavering with sobs. A long sniffle followed. After the sound of someone wiping away tears, the voice asked quietly:

“I’m really sorry, but... could you help me?”

“...”

“This place... It’s too...”

The presence outside the door disappeared. Uijae hesitated before slowly opening the door. On the pavement, where wet footprints marked the ground, lay a small white shard stained with black ink.

Uijae stared at the shard. The last words, choked with sobs, echoed in his

mind.

*It’s so quiet.*

He understood what she meant. The terrible quiet of a destroyed world. Only he, Cha Uijae, could truly comprehend that silence.

Without hesitation, Uijae reached down and picked up the shard.

A faint light flickered in his palm.