In the past, if he put the cube together too quickly, he would fiddle with the corners for a while without necessarily putting the last slide together. I thought he really liked puzzles because he seemed to enjoy the afterglow.
But what he holds in his hand now is no ordinary cube. If Simeon’s words are true, a man dies the moment the intangible cube is completed. And yet, there is not the slightest hesitation in his gesture to put the cube together.
No way…. Probably not. Even though I knew he wouldn’t kill a man so easily, a fire lining settled in the back of my mind.
“I told you all, it’s him!”
The man screamed, his voice rising to the top of his lungs.
“I’m… I’m…….”
The man, who was immediately out of breath, gave a grunt and collapsed.
The blue light made the man’s face look particularly bloodless. I walked over to him and put my finger under his nose. I feel steady breathing. It was a simple faint, and I was relieved.
As I rolled the man onto his side so that his airway was unobstructed, a long shadow fell over his head. I looked up, startled, and saw a subtle grimace. Simeon stared down for a long moment, and then he smiled, a smile he couldn’t quite tell if it was mockery or laughter.
“That’s very kind of you.”
“What…?”
“Concerned for someone who tried to frame you.”
His eyes narrowed, and there was a coldness in them.
Of course I’m annoyed with the man who’s been pushing me into the driver’s seat. Still, it was hard to pretend that I didn’t see the man who had collapsed in front of me, and even if that made me a hypocrite, I couldn’t say anything.
“I wasn’t worried, because I knew you wouldn’t kill him.”
“On what grounds?”
“You’re not the kind of person to play with other people’s lives.”
When I looked him in the eye, Simeon looked surprised.
“You speak as if you know me very well.”
“I have an eye for people.”
Not quite the answer he was expecting, Simeon laughed heartily.
“You’re right, I didn’t mean to kill him.”
His gaze flicked past me to the fallen man. There was not a shred of compassion in his cold gaze. Only patheticness, contempt, and a hint of boredom filled his expressionless face.
“Well, if he’d bothered me a little more, I might have changed my mind.”
“…Bothered?”
“Like, say, if he kept trying to frame you as an accomplice…?”
You’d kill someone just for that? I wanted to ask, but the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth.
That’s not a joke. The murderous intent that filled the chamber a moment ago was genuine. No wonder the captive man suddenly panicked and fainted.
He swallowed hard and muttered to himself.
“You must be… serious.”
“Always.”
The smile that spread across his face was creepily beautiful. I glanced up, and Simeon held out his hand to me. Unable to refuse a polite favour, I cautiously took his hand and stood up. Simeon smiled thinly as he smoothed down my dishevelled hair.
“It’s nice of you to be nice, but I’m not as nice as you think I am.”
“What’s that….”
“You need to get what you don’t like out of your face.”
Eyes filled with hostility turned to the floor for a moment,
“You have to have what you want, or you’ll never get it.”
It softened and turned to me.
“Anyway, you’re going to be tired today, so make yourself comfortable.”
Simeon then turned and walked away with an affectionate smile.
“Please escort Shin Hajae-ssi to his room.”
As I walked past the bodyguard who had brought me in, I made sure to ask politely. Just as I was about to leave, the man on the floor twitched. A gurgling sound escaped the man’s bourton lips as he regained consciousness, but Simeon didn’t give him a second glance.
“Put that away.”
He merely ordered in a cold voice.
Simeon said he believes in me. Does that mean he’ll let me out of here soon?
I’ve been imprisoned for ten days now. The usually clear sky is unusually cloudy. Even the sea, which has always been calm, is lashing out at the island with terrifying force. It was as if the landscape was angry with me. Or maybe it’s just depressed.
Just then, I heard a knock at the door and opened it to find an unexpected visitor.
“You’re…!”
It’s hard to forget her, with her soft latte-brown hair and pretty dimples when she smiles. A florist and a silver-legged apostle. I vividly remember her innocent face as she offered me tea laced with sleeping pills.
“It’s been a while, how are you?”
She greeted me nonchalantly and handed me a neatly folded piece of clothing. It was the hoodie and trousers I was wearing when I collapsed in the flower shop. When I accepted them, still suspicious, she laughed lightly.
“Congratulations.”
“Yes?”
”The guild leader has asked me to let you go.”
The day I’d hoped for had finally arrived, but it didn’t feel real. I looked shaken, and she kindly explained.
“That day, the man who was framing you as the mastermind blew the whistle.”
“What?”
“He said he was a journalist, trying to get information on the apostle.”
It turns out he was the one who commissioned me to take Simeon’s picture. He wanted to frame me in case he was ever caught. I laughed at the thought of being used as an insurance policy for a complete stranger.
In any case, my case was cleared.
“Come on, get changed and get out.”
After she closed the door behind her, I quietly changed my clothes. A prisoner about to be released must feel like this. I thought it was going to be bittersweet. Am I lamenting the fact that I won’t be able to see Simeon anymore?
“…Let’s get a grip. Please.”
I look in the sea through the window one last time. For some reason, the cloudy sky looked gloomier than before, and the waves were much rougher. It was as if the island was trying to keep the trespassing outsider from leaving.
When I finally left the room, she took a step forward as if she’d been waiting for me.
“This way.”
As I followed her, a voice echoed in my head.
‘But if you’re going to run away, could you at least tell me in advance? I… I don’t like to disappear without a word.’
Simeon is the one who ordered me to leave in the first place, so I’m not running away, I’m leaving legitimately. And yet, I felt a heavy weight in my heart.
Was it because his expression looked lonely at the time? Or was it because of the overlap of the wrongs I had committed in the past? Whatever the reason, I felt like I would regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t see his face one last time.
Suddenly, he stood in the middle of the hallway, and she looked at him with questioning eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“May I see him for a moment before I go?”
“Who?”
“That… Simeon.”
I expected her to say no, but she nodded and turned.
“Follow me.”
The Apostle’s base was like a maze. An outsider could sneak in and get lost. I walked through winding corridors and up and down stairs. It’s heavily guarded, and it’s strange there isn’t a single CCTV on the ceiling.
As I follow closely behind her, I suddenly get worried.
“I hope I’m not disturbing him while he’s busy.”
“It’s okay, the Guildmaster should be in front of the <Portrait of Saint-Germain> by now.”
“What is that?”
“It’s one of the artifacts we own.”
Artifacts are divided into Classes E through S according to their rarity and the danger of their abilities. Class A and below can be freely bought, sold, and transferred, but Class S relics cannot be owned by individuals and are controlled by nations and associations.
Most of them are owned by wealthy collectors and hunters. As an S-class Hunter, Simeon’s number of spirit stones must be enormous. The Breath of the Firebird he won in the last auction was worth 150,000, so I wonder how much he owns in total.
As I stared at the unfathomable number, she asked in a doubtful tone.
“You don’t know what the spirit is…?”
“Oh, no. I know that much, I just don’t know if it’s a portrait or what.”
“The <Portrait of Saint-Germain>?”
“Yes. That one.”
She spoke calmly, as if she were the curator of an art museum.
“Apparently, a long time ago, there was a count by the name of Saint-Germain. He was famous as the last alchemist in the world?”
“An alchemist…?”
“Yes. They say he turned lead into gold in front of the citizens.”
Some denounced the count as a fraud, others hailed him as a one-of-a-kind alchemist. He became instantly famous, and sightings poured in from all corners of the world.
But each person he met told a different story about Saint-Germain’s appearance. Some described him as a gentleman in his 40s, while others said he was an old man with greying hair. As the testimonies began to diverge, people became suspicious.
“Couldn’t there actually be multiple impersonators?”
“No one knows, it’s a legend.”
She shrugged lightly and continued.
“That’s why the <Portrait of Saint-Germain> changes every time it changes owner.”
“The painting… changes?”
“It reflects the face the owner imagines.”
Saint-Germain, the Faceless Count, a trickster and a man of truth. A fitting tribute to his origins.
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