Chapter 12

"The flow of people going to the east has completely stopped. This is troubling, I thought customers would keep coming for a while."

"What can you do? The research institute has only just announced that the wasteland there is dangerous."

"Have all the people who went there returned?"

"I heard that all the people from the merchant groups and such were forced to return. But there's also a strange rumor."

"What's that?"

"They say mercenaries and laborers are still in the eastern wasteland."

"How is that possible? Didn't you say even the merchant groups were driven out of the wasteland?"

"I wouldn't know. But since they haven't returned, they must still be there. It seems the rumors haven't spread to distant places like the south or west yet."

"Usually, stories that could make money spread quickly, but now that investments in the wasteland can't be recovered, the rumors are sluggish."

"Well, it's not confirmed yet. I heard the royal family is sending inspectors directly this time."

"The royal family must have invested considerably too. It's a land teeming with demonic beasts! Everyone must be feeling the pain."

"Well, it's not our concern. At least your inn hasn't gone completely bankrupt. So have a drink and forget about it."

"Oh my. That reminds me. I'll have to dispose of all the bedding I just bought..."

* * *

When he opened his eyes, his entire body was damp.

It felt like he was completely submerged in water.

The one difference from water was that this liquid had a very high viscosity.

Half-sunken and half-floating, he turned his head from side to side.

Something seemed visible up there, but it wasn't clear.

If that was the entrance to the massive pit... how deep was the bottom?

The inside of the pit was dark and humid. And hot.

It was completely different from the chilly outside.

He tried to stir his arms and legs to raise his body somehow, but it was impossible. His entire body was held tightly and wouldn't move.

Damn it.

How do I get out of here?

Somehow, irregular splashing sounds were heard amidst the foul stench.

He tried hard not to think about what those sounds were. Just think about getting out, think about how to get out. Think about where this is. Don't despair. There must be a way.

As he was repeating this to himself, someone whispered.

[...I can hear...]

Who?

His lips moved. Even though he hadn't answered, the voice continued to be heard.

[I can hear your memories... see them...]

The voice sounded like both a man and a woman. It seemed to echo in his ears or inside his head, or conversely, as if someone was speaking right next to him.

[Fresh... new...]

"Who are you?"

The muttering voice faded away. Silence followed.

But instead, incoherent chattering came. It sounded like thousands of people singing in a melancholic chorus.

[...You don't know who I am, but I know you. I walk between stars, but you take root in this small dirt. You are unripe grains, and I am the harvester. You are lost fat sheep, and I am the shepherd, the wolf, the prairie. I feed you and eat you...]

Despite the heat, goosebumps began to rise along his spine.

In the midst of the incoherent story, only a few words were sharply engraved.

Stars. Harvester. Shepherd and wolf. The plural noun 'you' rather than 'you' singular.

The voice was including him not as an individual but within the category of 'people.'

Because he as an individual and other people were all the same as people.

This manner of speech is used when talking about unequal groups.

Like how humans refer to thousands of ants.

This voice was not a mere demonic beast.

One who walks between stars. A being called a star walker, infinitely close to myth.

Just recalling that name made his breath catch.

Several questions were easily solved.

Why people waded through mud to climb up here.

Why they threw themselves down.

Why they went around in circles on a perfectly fine path when trying to come here.

The star walker feeds on and grows from human minds.

What is called the mind, or energy, doesn't end with just one feeding.

Because if you rest well and take enough time, it gets better.

That's why the star walker likes humans.

Once it tastes a human, with the power gained, it makes people unable to remember it.

And then it continuously makes them unconsciously seek out where it is.

In this way, the star walker could dip its muzzle into the golden spring of mental energy that constantly wells up.

It was an almost perfect hunt.

Except for one characteristic of the star walker.

The star walker was a walking mental abyss.

Everything is empty, futile, pessimistic, and terrible. Even ashes left after burning have more meaning than the star walker's mental world.

They may have been born that way, but humans were not.

All those who had prolonged contact with a star walker lost their lives.

And by their own choice.

The terribly gloomy sound continued to mumble.

[Journey through stars. Between star and star. Beyond that. Beyond there, into the distant starlight that runs dreaming. Away from the barren land. To where one swims in fantasy. Ah, how long must I wait... From a place so far away that time loses meaning, to here... When he comes here, I'll devour him right away. You with new and good memories...]

Just hearing the voice made him want to faint again.

The star walker's voice was similar to the edge of a quiet deep sea.

It made one feel as if trapped in a prison where one had to see endless blue darkness for as long as one lived.

He wanted to tear at his own head and scratch his entire body with his nails.

His nerves sharpened, and cold sweat flowed.

He wanted to scream for it to stop, but unable to move his mouth, he bit his tongue instead.

Each voice induced a suicidal impulse.

All kinds of bad memories came to mind incessantly, making tears flow as if his life, his very existence, had turned to mud.

Splash, splash, splash.

Living raindrops fell without rest.

Beside him, above him, below him.

The star walker whispered to him, whose face was wet.

[When you wake up, everything will be different... We will embark on a long journey together... You are the only one... with us...]

Splat.

After that, everything turned black.

* * *

What he hated most as a child was hunger.

Hunger, a word that drains a person's energy just by reading it.

But no matter how much one read about it, nothing compared to experiencing it directly.

-Brother, I'm hungry.

-You're hungry?

In a small room barely a pyeong (≈ 3.3 m² or 35 ft²) in size, his four-year-old brother would always whine as they lay covered with a blanket.

At that time, he had a sense of duty.

Was it because of his mother who repeatedly told him to take care of his brother?

-Wait a moment.

Mom hadn't come home, and Dad was sleeping outside.

Beyond the door, whose smooth outer surface had almost completely peeled off, loud snoring could be heard.

He carefully got up and pulled back the blanket. The stained blanket was the only winter blanket in their house, which his mother had brought when she was newly married.

-Stay quiet. Don't make a sound. I'm going to open the door now.

His brother covered his mouth with his small hand.

He carefully opened the door to avoid making a creaking sound.

The smell of alcohol wafted from the man sprawled out and snoring in the living room.

The kitchen, reached on tiptoe.

Though it seemed like there was nothing at first glance, his mother always hid something under the sink cabinet.

If he just put his arm into the cabinet and rummaged around, his fingertips would touch a rustling plastic.

He picked it up with his pincer-like fingers, and silently returned to the room and closed the door.

-Put this in the blanket.

If you put ramen in the thick blanket, there's no plastic sound and no breaking sound.

He and his brother excitedly broke it up, and under the blanket, they ate the broken ramen pieces.

The method was to roll it around in the mouth for a while to avoid making crunching sounds.

After alleviating hunger like that for a while, naturally, they would think of things they wanted to eat.

-Jajangmyeon.

-Chicken.

-Cotton candy.

-Mom's steamed eggs.

-Then I'll take braised eggs.

-That overlaps with eggs, that's cheating.

-How is that cheating? You mentioned Chupa Chups and traffic light candy yesterday.

-Those are both different. It's not cheating.

Their whispering turned into arguing, and their voices grew louder. Not realizing that the sound from the living room had stopped.

Suddenly, the door flung open, and harsh words were heard.

These little bastards making noise while Dad is sleeping.

What's that under the blanket? Not giving Dad food and just filling their own bellies.

They had no manners at all.

When his brother started crying, there was a shout saying he cried too easily, to stop whining, and a tin pot with dried ramen soup flew at him.

Clang.

Stars danced before his eyes. His brother stopped crying and looked at him.

As Dad went back to the living room, cursing Mom for having "brats" as he pleased, his brother would start sniffling again saying he was sorry, and he would lie down waiting for Mom to come home.

It was an ordinary day of his childhood.

But there was a day when an ordinary day became distorted.

For better or worse.

After Mom and Dad had a big fight one night, Dad didn't come back.

When Mom went to work, the living room became his and his brother's territory.

Mom taught them how to cook rice, so they could eat rice and kimchi.

Then one night.

Dad came back.

There was an unfamiliar woman beside him.

Shortly after, Mom came, and she sent them into the room.

There were sounds of fighting outside, but they chose to sleep instead.

Because they expected that would cause fewer sparks to fly.

Occasionally, words like 'adoption,' 'custody,' 'qualification,' 'money,' 'alcohol,' 'woman' could be heard, but it didn't interfere with their sleep.

Or so they thought.

That day, in the dim dawn.

Mom roughly shook them awake.

And then, putting a few 10,000 won bills in their hands, she told them to go out and eat.

There was a restaurant that was open even at dawn in front of the bus stop below the hillside neighborhood where they lived.

-I'm not hungry.

-Go anyway, go and eat. Ask for something delicious, okay? Mom has arranged everything. Go with your brother, eat, and when the sun rises, buy something tasty at the supermarket. Then come back.

He thought his mother's voice was trembling. But since the lights were off and it was still dawn, he couldn't tell.

He took his brother, who was whining from sleepiness, and went outside.

They ate reluctantly, and as Mom had instructed, bought and ate puffed rice and snacks.

After watching cars and buses pass by at the station, they returned home.

But the home they returned to was no longer the same.

Red and blue lights were flashing. There were many people too.

There's only one scene that remains particularly vivid in his memory.

The black mud flowing from the small boiler room and a single hand sticking out.

He tried to call for his mother, but no sound came from his mouth.

Whose it was,

He still doesn't know.