Chapter 9
Dance was, quite literally, the sum of the time she had lived. Not memories, but her body—uniting the different eras of her life into one.
Yet she knew that what was special to her wasn’t necessarily special to others. She also knew that the mixture of different dances could come across as somewhat crude in terms of technique.
Many had tried to correct that. They had said that if she couldn’t dance well, she might as well give up.
Yes, from their perspective, it might have seemed a waste.
But no one could know just how crushingly those words felt to her.
So Woo-so (Sooh) had said he would try to figure out how to elevate the subtly ingrained habits from her dancing into Dan-eun’s martial arts.
Yes, that was why. Even though she knew Sooh might be watching, she still wanted to dance.
“Really?”
Sooh smiled faintly and pointed toward the house.
“Let’s go inside. It’s getting cold.”
“Cold, you say.”
Ding.
A cheerful alarm tone sounded.
Her steps halted as she entered the house.
[Special Note: Error! Cannot Access]
[In-Story Action: Error! Cannot Access]
The cursor moved.
There was a faint sound, like typing—tak tak tak tak.
[Special Note: Error! Partial Access Only]
[In-Story Action: Error! Partial Access Only]
Her brown eyes widened and blinked rapidly. She read it over and over, but the content never changed.
Seeing Dan-eun stop suddenly, Sooh bent slightly forward.
Across the transparent blue screen, a gentle face appeared—not of a martial spirit, but someone resembling a young master from somewhere.
Whooosh. The wind blew, accompanied by the eerie cries of the bamboo grove that had never been heard before.
At dawn, mist hung over the water. Frost had formed along the windowpane.
Her arm, leaning against the frame, lifted as the sleeve fell down, exposing her reddened forearm.
Dan-eun rested her chin on her hand and gazed out at the now-familiar view.
Her eyes, wandering somewhere in the void, focused on the system screen.
Woo-so’s special notes and in-story actions: partially accessible.
[Special Note: Catalyst for protagonist’s execution/protagonist’s awakening]
[In-Story Action: ―Death]
The body shivered in the chill, which had noticeably grown colder overnight. Still, she felt no urge to move or put on a coat, sitting as she was.
Her hand, which had supported her chin, brushed her nape. Her fingernails left red marks.
“Hello.”
Her exhale was slightly loud. Her hand brushed the void—where the chat window appeared.
Time of day didn’t matter much. To them, night and day held no meaning.
And the fact that such a message appeared now meant they had observed everything on her end, hadn’t they?
[Me: Are you just going to keep silent?]
[Me: I know you’re busy.]
[Me: Avoiding things like this won’t get us anywhere.]
Just as she was about to add another line, her speech bubble floated upward.
See? Those big eyes had thinned.
[Grim Reaper Haro: I haven’t done anything wrong. ^^]
“Right. Pretending to care like before would just feel strange now.”
[Grim Reaper Haro: (˘･_･˘)]
[Grim Reaper Haro: Pretending to care? It makes me so sad if you misunderstand my sincerity.]
Realizing this, an emoticon arrived belatedly.
[Grim Reaper Haro: o(TヘTo)]
Still annoying.
That “pretend” thing.
Though, now, she was so used to it that it no longer irritated her—a realization that felt bitter.
Dan-eun glanced around her room briefly.
After confirming the soundproofing magic she had set up, she returned her focus to the chat.
“Have you located the staff?”
She waited a moment, but no reply came.
“Hacking?”
[Grim Reaper Haro: Yes.]
“…During the first cycle,”
Had she met him before? The question hesitated in her mind. A fleeting face came to mind—was it really him?
[Grim Reaper Haro: The culprit has passed through Turangtezel.]
Turangtezel—the first world she had possessed.
“Was it your plan to have me meet Sooh?”
[Grim Reaper Haro: You can’t allow even a brief brush of fate to let someone die.]
She pulled one leg up, hugging her knee, holding her wrist. The red mark deepened.
She didn’t feel toyed with. Whether she liked it or not, she knew his personality from all the time they’d spent together.
Still, what dampened her mood was the timing: the message heralding Sooh’s death, as if waiting for this very moment.
And knowing he had waited, observing, hoping she would open her heart more and grow truly close—it annoyed her.
“Sure.”
Yes, no matter how they met, she would have tried to save him.
Purely selfish and cowardly. She didn’t want to bear the weight of someone’s life on her shoulders.
“What do you want from me? To go according to the original story? Or—”
[Grim Reaper Haro: It’s the acquisition of the sinner. Even if you don’t follow the original story this time, you have enough skill to turn all of it into dance at once.]
Her fist clenched. Acquisition of a sinner in the afterlife. That meant…
Dan-eun closed her eyes briefly, then opened them.
“You have the original story, right? Don’t play around—send it. You’ll follow the story up to a certain point anyway.”
Excessive destruction of the original story would obviously be reported to the afterlife. She wanted to avoid it.
[Grim Reaper Haro: It’s possible they manipulated it.]
“Of course I know that.”
Dan-eun got up and closed the window. She removed her sleeping clothes and draped her martial outfit, which had been placed by the hearth, to warm up.
It was long past her usual training time. The crimson dawn light penetrated deep into the room.
“Find the staff. If they’re from Turangtezel and capable of this, they’re probably seeing it through.”
The 11th martial tier was said to be unattainable for humans.
Yet, those who had been forcibly trained through repeated reincarnations could aspire even to the 11th tier.
Even if they couldn’t reach it, the 11th tier could only be confronted by equals.
“Information about their personal details will obviously be top secret, so I won’t ask.”
She put on her top and pants, tightened her sleeves with arm guards, draped the cloak over her chair, and tied her long black hair in a half-up style.
Dan-eun took the wooden sword placed beside her and left the room.
“Alright, that’s Guibong.”
The peak resembled a turtle, hence the name. Had the boy ever seen a turtle? He shook his head.
“Haa, huuh.”
He inhaled deeply and exhaled, forming a misty breath.
Compared to Anhui, it was warmer, but the early morning chill was still sharp—perhaps the water made it worse.
Still, with the first month passed, the cold would soon ease.
The boatman glanced at the sword the boy carried on his waist, then looked away.
“So, do you know Master Hwang who lives nearby?”
“Yes.”
The boy nodded, wearing a smile full of longing and pride.
“He’s my senior.”
“I see. But—ah.”
A girl hurriedly descended toward the dock.
Her hair absorbed all light, jet-black and astonishingly beautiful, while her eyes beneath were bright brown.
Her skin, as white as porcelain, smooth and soft, promised a radiant future from afar.
“Hmm, I see.”
“What is it?”
“Master Hwang is probably away right now.”
The boat stopped at the dock. The girl greeted the boatman warmly.
At the clunk, she turned to see the boy from the boat had already stepped onto the dock.
The girl—Dan-eun—looked him over.
A boy with soft black hair tinged brown and unusually gray eyes.
Above all, his appearance was extraordinary.
It wasn’t an exaggeration to say she had never seen anyone more striking than the body she now inhabited.
Even without checking the character viewer, she could tell—this was the protagonist.
Without giving her a glance, he scanned the hill across the dock.
“Are you Odane Soje?”
“Yes.”
Dan-eun saluted respectfully. The boy assumed a martial stance.
“I am Song Ho-yeon, disciple of Myung-O Moon and Yi Wi-kyung.”
[Song Ho-yeon
Age: 11
Birthday: July 11
Special Note: Protagonist
He was the protagonist of this story, awakened by his senior’s death and Woo-so’s death.
