“Taewoon!!!”
After subduing the cultists pouring in from inside, Sihyun handed the cleanup to those on his side and ran into the main hall, late.
Judging by the lack of noise, the fight should have ended, yet no matter how he turned his head, Yeon Taewoon was nowhere to be seen.
Biting his lower lip, Sihyun moved through the hall until, only after a little while, he spotted a figure sitting limply in the farthest corner—where light slanted in as if part of the roof had been sliced away.
“Master… I’m the Heavenly Demon now, right?”
As Sihyun took slow steps in his direction, a low voice came first—small, as if something were lodged in his throat.
It was killing his own father, after all. The shock had to be immense.
He had always wondered if there was another way, but the system insisted, over and over, on methods that would gnaw Taewoon’s mind to the bone.
It was pitiful.
No matter that he was grown and broad-shouldered now—sitting there so empty, the big man looked like the scrawny ten-year-old he once was. Sihyun tucked his lips in, then lifted Taewoon from where he sagged and drew him into an embrace.
“You won. Think only of that. You’ve worked so hard all this time.”
“…Yes. From now on, let’s travel together and live comfortably, Master.”
It felt like his heart was being torn to shreds. Soon he would leave the boy’s side. Hearing that voice, damp with feeling, made his head spin, dizzy.
In the end, Sihyun lied without meaning to.
“Yeah… let’s do that.”
At his answer, the arms around Sihyun tightened, and the face pressed to the nape of his neck burrowed in even deeper.
But the comfort was short-lived; a crowd began filing into the main hall.
Sihyun immediately let go and turned away, and Taewoon, as if he couldn’t bear to part, pinched the hem of Sihyun’s white top between his fingers. But this was no position where he could afford to show such softness.
“No.”
Sihyun pried off the firm hand, firmly, and nudged Taewoon forward to stand in front of them.
This plan had been drawn up carefully, meticulously, from the moment the first quest arrived.
Naturally, the aftermath proceeded with extreme speed, and because of the cult’s nature—quick to accept the replacement of the one who would be their head—the mood settled in an instant.
Of course, it was only possible because Taewoon’s ability eclipsed everything else.
‘This is where I need to bow out.’
Sihyun clenched his fist tight and withdrew himself from the merit awards that were soon to take place.
Taewoon told him not to, of course, but as always, Sihyun didn’t want to leave any more traces of himself here.
Leaving the throng of cultists and their prying eyes behind, Sihyun walked out of the hall—only to find no alert window popping up, which would normally appear the second it could. Uneasy, he opened the quest window.
‘So why isn’t the quest-complete alert showing up?’
Even so, a small hope poked through the unease. Maybe, just maybe, he’d be allowed to choose whether to go or stay.
He lived with that small unease for a few days. And then the little hope he’d held didn’t just shatter; it turned to powder.
***
Sihyun could only stand there, mouth open, staring blankly at the absurd quest floating in front of his eyes.
[system: Epilogue. Commit suicide. By your death, ‘Yeon Taewoon’ will be reborn as the true Heavenly Demon.]
“Has the system gone insane…? Or is this a virus?”
[system: Once you complete this quest, you can return to your original world!]
It was only text, but there was a faintly giddy tone he could somehow feel, and rage rose hot behind his eyes. Not a friendly farewell, not even a proper goodbye—smash our Taewoon over the head like this and tell me to go alone? I won’t.
[system: Beginning five-minute countdown. If Yeon Taewoon fails to become the Heavenly Demon, he will fall into qi deviation and die.]
“What??? I thought he was already the Heavenly Demon!!!”
[system: Time remaining 4 minutes 43 seconds. If Yeon Taewoon fails to become the Heavenly Demon, he will fall into qi deviation and die.]
“Wait! Fine, fine—I get it!”
Grinding his teeth at the system’s outrageous demand, Sihyun ripped the sword from his belt—but then he couldn’t move. The blade he’d raised sagged, dropping powerless as he froze in place.
‘No way… You never said goodbye would work like this.’
But it had carried this condition from the start. When he fell here, the window that appeared said plainly: if he completed the final quest, he would be returned to reality.
“But I can’t just let the kid die… damn.”
How could he have trusted that unknown system and lived at ease? He felt pathetic. Fine—he was the one who’d grown attached to Yeon Taewoon.
But how could he not? For ten years, the two of them had had nothing, and they’d leaned on each other like parent and child, like older and younger brother, sometimes like friends. How do you not get attached.
Honestly, even after Taewoon dealt with Yeon Museong, the system said nothing for a while, so he only half believed the promise to send him back.
And thinking about it now, he’d spent ten years here; he’d grown attached to the world itself. The idea of not going back to reality didn’t even feel that tragic.
“If I go… Taewoon will keep living well here, right?”
He hesitated, then threw the question into empty air, but no translucent window appeared. Only the mercilessly shrinking time floated before his eyes.
A cold sense of reality flooded in. Sihyun worked another curse around his mouth.
Yeah, the system was always like this—as if it wanted Yeon Taewoon pushed to the very brink until he snapped.
All this time he’d dodged the worst scenarios—the forced betrayals, the cruel tasks—accepting penalties to do it. But a quest that told him to die, flat out, out of nowhere—that was a first, and it shook him.
Maybe the problem was that our boy grew up too straight and kind…?
“Goddamn it… If I die, at least clean up the traces fast.”
But the system stayed silent, and the dragging quiet felt like a shove in the back: you’re done here—hurry up and die.
Sihyun shut his eyes tight and took several breaths. Even if he returned to his old world, he knew he’d never forget this one.
“I don’t want to leave….”
After wavering a moment, he finally let out his true feelings in a small voice. No one was there to hear, so he could say it.
Standing there dazed in the wide room, Sihyun jerked his head up and scanned around in a rush for something he could use to leave a last message.
‘Even so, I can’t just go.’
Once he went back to reality, who knew what would happen to this game world. But Taewoon wasn’t just a game character to him anymore—he couldn’t leave like this.
Scrape—
He found a small sheet of paper at a desk against the wall, grabbed the little brush beside it, and scrawled a short note. Then he returned to the center of the room and set the razor-blue edge of the sword to his neck.
If it were up to him, he’d have gone somewhere far away to hide and then done the quest. But there really wasn’t much time left.
So Sihyun severed his inner power, cutting off the protective qi that would normally cover his whole body without conscious effort, and took no defensive stance that might hinder his suicide. He drew a tense breath.
Then came a soft knock.
“Master, it’s me. May I come in?”
“What?! No! Don’t come in!”
“…What?”
What a shitty sense of timing. Sihyun bit his lip hard. Tears pricked, but he held them back.
He would die and return to where he’d lived before and start another life—but if Taewoon died, who knew what would happen to him.
The decision was hard, but the action was swift. Eyes closed, Sihyun, without a shred of hesitation, drew the blade across his own throat.
With a slashing sound, a fan of red blood bloomed before his eyes in slow motion. He’d seen it to death not long ago, but this time it felt strangely new.
Clink.
‘A lot’s spilling out….’
Maybe because it was a quest, he felt no pain—oddly—but the reel of memories still ran past as if he were really dying.
The day he pulled Taewoon from the slave market. The moment, after long wariness, the boy first called him “brother.” The time he trusted the system and boasted he’d teach martial arts, only to realize he didn’t know proper forms and be mortified. The first time the kid bowed and called him “Master.” The time he was caught sneaking around to find an elixir as a secret gift for Taewoon becoming an adult….
“It makes me happy that Master is by my side. You’ll be with me for life, right? I’ll do anything.”
At the boyish voice that seemed to whisper right by his ear, even now, laughter and tears came together. What a fucked-up, wondrous thing.
‘Yeah. Be a little… just a little sad, then live happily.’
With that, Jeong Sihyun’s mind went hazy, and he slowly closed his eyes.