The S-Classes That I Raised

Chapter 485: The Hosts

I deliberately closed my eyes slowly and opened them again. But Chatterbox showed no reaction at all.

‘The King of Harmless wouldn’t have lied.’

Which meant the Chatterbox here was just an avatar with no real power. One that couldn’t even recognize what the King of Harmless left with me. I eased my grip a little on the emergency bell in my hand.

The Rookie had guaranteed my safety, but there was always the what–if. If I pressed the emergency bell, a signal would go straight to Yuhyun, Yerim, and Mister Noah. Yuhyun and Mister Noah were at the Haeyeon and the Breeding Facility buildings, respectively, and Yerim was at the ranch with Mar. So all three—especially Yerim—would get here in a flash. Since Grace was a self–aware item, I’d also stored her in my inventory, so there was even more reason to be ready.

“I don’t particularly hold anything against you. For now, anyway.”

I opened my mouth lightly. Chatterbox had helped the King of Harmless, but I didn’t feel much toward the King of Harmless himself at the moment. In any case, I killed the King of Harmless with my own hands, and what she left me was something I should be grateful for.

“It’s just that Mister Chatterbox is unilaterally insisting on revenge. From my position, it’s rather unfair.”

I stared straight into the mask’s eyeholes. Beyond the holes, there was only murky darkness—I couldn’t see a thing. Did he even have eyeballs? Something about it shimmered, like black fog had pooled there; without Fear Resistance, I would’ve gotten goosebumps for sure.

Chatterbox slowly raised one arm. Unlike in the hallucination from the letter, the hand in a white glove looked ordinary. It wasn’t his real body anyway; he could change his appearance as he pleased. With the tips of his fingers, he adjusted the layered red frill tie at his throat.

“Are you calling it a misunderstanding.”

His attitude and voice were surprisingly polite. Which made it all the more ominous. The ones who are calmly insane tend to do the most dangerous things.

“Even if the King of Harmless’s power weakened, I’m even weaker than that. As you can see, my stats are F–rank.”

I spread both arms slightly.

“The king of the Venom and Curse Dragonkin was dealt with by the Mermaid Queen. I only happened to get his magic stone by sheer chance.”

It’s something that’s common sense–wise impossible and sounds ridiculous. So let’s just say, oh, I see, and go back to how things were. Blocking an ordinary dungeon isn’t all that hard. The Crescent Moon problem remained, but if even Chatterbox took his hands off, I’d be grateful.

“The King of Harmless was likewise killed by another Transcendent. The past overlapped the present, and a Transcendent from long ago intervened. There were two, in fact—one had a body like a horse, and the other was a tiger, or maybe a cat.”

It wasn’t a brazen lie. The past really did overlap the present, and Transcendents did appear. And the King of Harmless ended up dying by my hand thanks to Changeling’s power. Changeling couldn’t have been born without Diarma, so in the end, saying the King of Harmless died because of a Transcendent wasn’t wrong. Seong Hyunjae even sponsored the whole thing.

“If those two Transcendents are still around, why not blame them.”

Don’t go after an innocent F–rank. The mask’s painted mouth was still smiling. The eyeholes, on the other hand, remained unreadable. Not that it was a real face—it was a mask.

“If you hand over your memories, I can check whether it’s the truth.”

“I value privacy, so that’s a no. I’m telling you to think within the bounds of common sense. Or else.”

I swallowed briefly and continued.

“Does the truth not matter to you. Is it just—”

“We’re holding a funeral.”

Chatterbox’s voice rose.

“In the last place she stayed, with mourners filling the hall. What is your funeral culture like. I will do what would please my lovely fog. And for the finale.”

A long leg stepped up onto the table. As if a string had been tied above and yanked, Chatterbox’s body slid up and over the table, coming to a stop right in front of me. Close enough that the tips of his shoes touched mine. His upper body bent toward me. The movement alone looked as courteous as a bow.

“What do you cherish most. Still that younger brother?”

At the whisper–soft question, my heart went cold. In the end, funerals are for the ones left behind. As the King of Harmless said.

“What nonsense.”

For Chatterbox, the truth didn’t matter. The King of Harmless died here, and I was there. That alone was plenty. Enough to hold a funeral.

“Everyone treasures themselves most of all.”

I told him with a gentle laugh.

“Just like how Mister Chatterbox, instead of catching the real culprit, is holding a funeral.”

Leaning fully against the sofa back, I lifted one hand. A cube floated above my palm. The darkness rippling in the mask’s eyeholes flicked toward the cube.

“The King of Harmless’s Drawer.”

“The King of Harmless’s Drawer.”

We spoke in unison. Did he recognize it? It could have been a simple guess.

“I am the current owner of this drawer.”

Chatterbox went silent at what that implied. The King of Harmless handed me her drawer directly. I slowly sat forward from where I’d been pressed deep into the sofa. The white mask and my face grew a little closer.

“She told me this. I was truly delighted.”

Not a breath, not a single sound like a corpse.

“White, so very white. Hair swaying as if swimming, fins spread like petals. In the scattered mist, she laughed.”

The chest under the white shirt didn’t rise or fall.

“She looked at me last, smiled at me, and the voice that greeted the end was mine alone.”

If the funeral wasn’t for the King of Harmless, but for Chatterbox.

“Tell me your name. So I answered. Han Yujin. And then she told me.”

I whispered to an ear that didn’t exist.

“Ru Ga Pheya.”

At her end, Chatterbox wasn’t there. In Ru Ga Pheya’s eyes, there was only Han Yujin. I quietly curved the corner of my lips.

“I still don’t even know Mister Chatterbox’s name.”

Because Ru Ga Pheya didn’t tell me. Didn’t even mention him. No will, no legacy, nothing was left behind. The only one who received anything was me. Not Chatterbox.

I leaned back against the sofa again. Chatterbox froze in place, as if turned to stone. Then the mouth on the mask widened. It bent and split, opening in a huge laugh. The raw red inside was exposed, but there were no teeth, no tongue, not even a throat. Just red, and redder.

“The youngest of the severed Maze, the mage with the birdcage. Gi Os Sanus.”

A voice, faintly touched with excitement, spoke.

“Chatterbox—who would have thought I’d hear that said of me. The Maze is silent and the mage hides his secrets. But my beloved fog was—”

A low chuckle seeped out from behind the mask.

“Endlessly greedy. For Ru Ga Pheya, I told so many stories. Hosting teas and dancing, a little prim to suit her quick boredom. The fog sought me all the more, asked for my help, and chattered happily. And yet—hup—she slipped through my fingers.”

Because she was fog. The kind that doesn’t get caught and tied down.

“My birdcage is sturdy and beautiful, but it has far too many gaps.”

“So that’s why you tried the tank. Even so, you only trapped a fake.”

Chatterbox’s hand reached out. I couldn’t dodge, so it touched my face.

“I am Chatterbox.”

He defined himself. Discarding what he was before, remaking himself to match the King of Harmless.

“You are the last thing she saw.”

Chatterbox’s voice settled back into calm. The mouth split to tatters also closed. His other hand reached toward the one holding the drawer. I reflexively put the drawer into my inventory, and he caught my wrist. The strength wasn’t great. The problem was that I was weaker.

“Did you lay hands on her. Of course you did. If she liked you enough to teach you her name and hand over her drawer, you would have examined every inch.”

The gloved hand stroked my cheek and slid down my neck. The touch was like checking the condition of something he meant to buy. The other hand likewise touched my forearm, my elbow, and elsewhere. My hand holding the emergency bell twitched involuntarily. Noticing that, Chatterbox smiled.

“Will you ask for help.”

His tone sounded curious as to who would come running. He probably already knew who I was close to, but still. And we weren’t even done talking yet.

The pitch–black eyeholes looked into me. I couldn’t read any gaze, but it felt unpleasantly affectionate.

“The inheritance my fog left me.”

…You lunatic. I’d nudged him toward this reaction, but I didn’t expect him to say it that bluntly.

“I should preserve as much as possible. Where and how did she touch you. Did she whisper in your ear? The hair, the eyes. Adding more will be fine, won’t it. She had long hair. I’ll bleach it snow–white, carve an extra eye. Fins and tendrils.”

“You’re a real madman. Planning to build another tank or what.”

“You’re not fog; a birdcage will suffice. I’ll take you once the funeral is over.”

“Who says you will.”

“Han Yujin doesn’t cherish himself anyway, does he.”

The mask’s smile curved into a clear sneer.

“Saying everyone treasures themselves most, yet offering yourself up as bait like this, and not even asking for help.”

“…We’re just having a conversation. Why would I ask for help.”

The hand that had slid down to my shoulder rose to the nape of my neck, under my ear, and pressed lightly. Heat flared at once.

“A promise.”

“It’s a very minor power. If expressed as a rank, about F–rank. Equal to Han Yujin, so it isn’t a breach.”

Just hard to erase, Chatterbox whispered. His fingers drew a long line down to the nape of my neck.

“It’s a mark that you’re my guest. You’ll be welcome even without an invitation.”

“…How very generous.”

“As contracted, your safety at the party is guaranteed. This is also a pact between the two Transcendents. Until the party ends, I won’t lay a hand on Han Yujin.”

Which meant once the party—the funeral—was over, that would be the start. I grabbed Chatterbox’s wrist as his hand moved away from my nape. The palm under my fingers felt cool.

“Since you’ve figured it all out, let me say this: if you want to have me intact, don’t touch my surroundings. Using ordinary Hunters, I’ll let slide. But if you move personally, I’ll smash the drawer first.”

I didn’t think I’d lose fighting other human Hunters. At the very least, I could protect my life. Besides, telling him don’t come at us at all wouldn’t fly. At my words, Chatterbox tilted his head a little.

“Does Han Yujin dislike Han Yujin, by any chance?”

“It’s not that I dislike him. I’m just using every card I can.”

Anyway, Chatterbox himself brought up Transcendents and guaranteed the party’s safety. He even mentioned a contract between the two factions; I could relax for now.

“When does the party start.”

“If you wish, I can match it to your schedule.”

“How considerate. While we’re at it, I’d like a few more invitations.”

“The number I can send is already exhausted. Unfortunately.”

Then I’d have to get them either from Park Hayul’s side or from the Hunters he’d drawn into his gathering.

“I’m thinking of holding a small meeting before Mister Chatterbox’s party.”

I spoke with him a bit more. Coordinating the schedule was easy. Chatterbox remained consistently polite, even kind. Of course, that courtesy was toward the traces of Ru Ga Pheya, not the human named Han Yujin.

“Keep your body perfectly preserved.”

With that creepy farewell, Chatterbox vanished. A long sigh escaped me. We’d only had an extended conversation, yet the fatigue hit like I’d been running all day.

“…If they find out about this, everyone’s going to hate it again.”

Do I hate myself? Getting lectured about self–love by a crazy Transcendent. My situation was downright absurd. Still, you know, I—

‘Maybe just one cigarette.’

If I brush my teeth and shower after, they might not notice. I knew I shouldn’t, but I still took the cigarette case out of my inventory. Except—

“I don’t have a light.”

No lighter, nothing. Before regression, I always carried something to make fire since I was in and out of dungeons, but I didn’t need that now. I wasn’t about to spend points on it either, so I stuffed the case back into my inventory. Instead, I took out my phone and made a call.

“Yuhyun, are you busy.”

[No. Did something happen?]

“I just wanted to see you.”

It was nonsense, considering we’d even met this morning, but my little brother said he’d come right away. I stood, took out Grace and put her on, and stood before the bathroom mirror. From right under my ear down along my nape, a red mark remained vivid. It looked like a simple pattern—or maybe letters.

“…What a pain. Why would he do this.”

Can’t I make it invisible. I slowly rubbed the mark. I could sense mana… When I carefully drew up my magic power and layered it over, it vanished shortly after. Or rather, it remained, but it just wasn’t visible.

“Hyung.”

In the meantime, Yuhyun arrived. He immediately frowned, strode over, and reached out to me.

“What is this.”

“Huh? You can see it?”

“Faintly.”

“…I can’t see it.”

“It’s concealed, but with this level of mana, upper–rank Hunters can see it. Feels like a low–rank Stealth skill. So what happened.”

“It’s like Chatterbox’s invitation. He says I can come without one.”

I told him there was nothing serious and that Chatterbox had firmly guaranteed the party’s safety.

“I tried saying I wasn’t the one who killed the King of Harmless, but of course he wouldn’t listen.”

“Then wouldn’t it be better for you not to go?”

“I need to be ready for when the party ends. I can’t get ambushed while knowing nothing.”

I looked up at my brother’s face.

“Sorry.”

“No, why are you apologizing to me, hyung.”

“…Yeah. The Breeding Facility Head’s meeting will go on as planned. I coordinated it with Chatterbox, so I can send formal invitations too.”

For now, focus on what needs doing immediately. There’s still a mountain of tasks to handle.