<Quest successful! Congratulations. You have successfully cleared the sudden quest, ‘Slay the Black Serpent.’>
<As a reward, another exit to ‘The True Evil of Humanity?’ will open in 1 hour.>
“In an hour?”
Every time he tried to use his vocal cords, a mixture of blood and bile rose in his throat, so he clamped his mouth shut and glared at the system window. The blue window trembled slightly, as if to say it wasn’t its fault. A voice drifted down from the impossibly high ceiling.
“Don’t be so heartless. An hour is the fastest we can manage.”
The voice, tinged with laughter, tried to placate him. It was not the least bit comforting.
What was the point of going through all that trouble to kill the snake?
His blood pressure spiked, and the metallic taste of blood once again filled his throat. The smell of iron rose into his sinuses, a sign of an impending nosebleed, and he couldn’t hold back his nausea. He bent over and retched, and involuntary tears welled in his eyes. It was then that his feet, which had been firmly planted on the ground, suddenly lifted into the air.
“Whoa…”
His body, having lost its balance, toppled easily. He expected to land hard, but there was no pain. He was rising, still in his fallen posture, as if he were in an elevator. A moment later, the face of the King of the Underworld came into view.
“I watched your entire fight. If you’d struggled just a little bit more, you would have come to me. A shame, truly a shame…”
The words that followed his hearty laughter were quite chilling. As Geon-joo raised his guard, the King gestured for him to sit. On the table was a different cup from the one he had seen before.
“Don’t be suspicious this time. I had this prepared for you.”
“…”
“Have you lived your whole life being deceived? I’m telling you, I prepared this tea to honor your desperation.”
The King urged him again. It looked like clear water, but just in case, Geon-joo glanced at it warily while repeatedly calling for the System in his mind. As if he knew, the King of the Underworld was the one who responded.
“To think you distrust me so. I must reflect on my actions.”
“Perhaps you’d become more trustworthy if you could speed up the exit’s opening time.”
“You let my words about an hour being the maximum go in one ear and out the other.”
“I was merely suggesting you try a little harder. It seems even gods can’t see into everything.”
Geon-joo smiled slightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling. The King muttered, “How rude,” a few times but showed no further signs of displeasure.
I want to check the time.
As he thought this, surveying the room that was unchanged from when he’d been dropped into the pit, the System provided a new notification window.
<58 minutes and 22 seconds until the other exit to ‘The True Evil of Humanity?’ opens.>
As if this will make me feel any better.
He had been screwed over too many times to be moved by a few small acts of kindness. He clicked his tongue and wrapped both hands around the teacup, which helped to warm his freezing fingers, and let out a long breath. The foul, metallic smell wouldn’t leave his nose, and he wrinkled his nose unconsciously. The King of the Underworld made an exaggerated gesture of having made a mistake.
“Come to think of it, I forgot to heal you. Are you not in pain?”
“…”
“You don’t have to answer. You look like you’re in pain. Why must you refuse my consideration? It’s a tea that helps soothe the mind and body. Stop being suspicious and just drink it.”
What a carefree god. Geon-joo hesitated, then took out a potion instead of the tea. He ignored the King’s comment that it wouldn’t work and poured it down his throat. He heard the King sigh. It was the most pleasant sound he’d heard since arriving in the Underworld.
“Why I have to take care of you when you’re so unlikable, I’ll never know.”
“…?”
“Still, I made a promise, so I can’t let you die. I swore it on the river, so I can’t break it.”
The King hummed, stroking his chin. After blinking his wrinkled eyelids, he let out a pained groan as if reluctant. It seemed he had made some sort of deal with the System.
He glanced at the window displaying the remaining time. As if to say, Correct, it bobbed up and down lightly. The System had a tendency to be lenient with its own mistakes but wanted recognition for every little kindness it showed.
Are all gods like this?
If humans were created in their image, then human selfishness was probably inherited from the gods. As he was having this sacrilegious thought right in front of him, the King’s eyebrow twitched. He then let out a thin laugh that sounded like it might crumble into dust.
“You haven’t changed, then or now. That impudence.”
The comment grated on his nerves.
“I don’t know when you think you’ve ever met me to be speaking like that.”
“I know you, but you do not know me. That is the way of things.”
This wasn’t a game of twenty questions. He was spouting nothing but riddles, vaguely stimulating his curiosity without scratching the itch. Geon-joo narrowed his eyes and tried to match the information he had with the current situation. As he racked his brain, a ridiculous notification popped up, informing him that his health was dropping due to excessive brain use.
How much health do I have left?
He checked the number in alarm. It was below 10. It had just dropped from 9.
<Due to reckless thought acceleration in a weakened state, Health has decreased by 1. Remaining Health: 8>
And now it was 8.
“Heh…”
Am I a sunfish?¹ My health is dropping just from thinking a little?
At this rate, it would probably start dropping when he coughed or felt dizzy. It was an absurd thought, but the System warned him that would indeed happen if his health fell below 5, emphasizing that a body with less than 10 health points couldn’t even be treated as human.
His gaze naturally fell to the teacup.
Should I just drink it and see what happens?
He motioned to the King with his eyes, and the King extended a hand, urging him to drink. Geon-joo considered it, then opened his mouth.
“I can’t just drink it, since you are a god of questionable faith. If you’re going to be so generous, how about you make me a promise as well?”
“A promise?”
“If this tea harms me, you will shorten the exit’s opening time. If my body is safely healed, you will explain what you know.”
“Give an inch and they’ll take a mile, is that it?”
“Technically, you’re the one who threw me in the water in the first place.”
“But were you not the one who came seeking me?”
“It’s not like we wanted to enter that Gate, you know. You used us to paint your grand picture, so I’m just trying to collect a small fee. If that’s too difficult, then forget it.”
It’s not like a god is omnipotent.
He added the jab, and the King burst out laughing. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but for a being of his size, he laughed at the smallest things. It was as if Geon-joo were his personal clown. When he looked at him expectantly, the King of the Underworld, a deep smile on his lips, brought over the teapot. The half-full cup was filled to the brim, threatening to overflow. His action was answer enough.
He’d said shortening the exit time was impossible, so he must be confident.
Then again, if he’d intended to harm him, he would have done it already. Still, there was one thing he had to confirm.
“By any chance, if I drink this, will I be unable to return to the mortal world?”
If the tea didn’t pose a physical threat but simply bound him to the Underworld, the King could easily find a loophole in their agreement. The King tilted his head.
“What are you talking about?”
So it’s not that?
He had only asked because the story of Persephone and the pomegranate came to mind, but maybe it was just a myth that had been passed down incorrectly. Or maybe they were different gods entirely.
Still, the phrase “one in a million” existed for a reason. As he watched with suspicion, the King waved his hand.
“There’s nothing like that, so just drink. Surely I don’t seem that cowardly…”
“You do seem cowardly.”
“The end of days is truly upon us.”
The King chuckled. Geon-joo studied the movement of his facial muscles before finally lifting the teacup. It had no scent. After a moment of hesitation, he took a sip. It had no particular taste. He swished it around in his mouth a few times, confirmed there was nothing wrong with it, and swallowed. The clean liquid went down smoothly, leaving a faint, sweet aftertaste before disappearing.
<You have consumed Holy Water and recovered Health and Soul Value. Health +1, Soul Value +1.>
“Oh.”
He’d been half in doubt, but it seemed the King wasn’t the type to play games with food. Holy Water. He brewed that precious substance like common tea? It felt like he was witnessing the extravagance of the gods firsthand. As he looked on, dumbfounded, the King smiled as if to say, See?
“Now it is your turn to be grateful for the grace I have bestowed.”
“Well, thanks.”
He replied drily and took another sip. With every gulp, his depleted Health and Soul Value recovered by 1 point. He hadn’t eaten in days anyway, so he drained the cup cleanly. By the time he was done, both his Soul Value and Health had recovered to 80.
A satisfied smile touched his lips. The King looked at him with a displeased expression, as if this wasn’t the outcome he’d wanted.
The remaining time was 45 minutes.
Ten minutes had disappeared while he was bickering with the King. He put down the empty teacup and waited for the King to deliver his end of the bargain. At his brazen stare, the god, whose face was a canvas of utter disbelief, finally spoke.
“Is this what they call being robbed blind?”
“You wanted to tell me something, didn’t you? That’s why you caused the system error in the first place. Your mouth seems to be itching to say it, so isn’t this better for you?”
At his uninhibited reply, the King looked pleased. The one holding the strange brush, painting a picture so vast that the subject could not possibly imagine its scope, finally opened his mouth. A voice flowed from between his parted lips.
“How does it feel to have devoured 100,000 people, ascended to godhood, and then fallen?”