The story that had taken hours to tell was over.
Min Si-joon didn’t know what to say to his brother’s words.
If an ordinary person had heard it, they might have said, “Don’t give me that crap.”
But Si-joon knew his brother’s personality all too well.
This was all true.
“You don’t have to say anything right now.”
Siwoo smiled at his brother in understanding. Even for the person who had experienced it firsthand, it was hard to believe.
Let alone something that had happened not over the course of 5 or 10 years, but 100 years.
It was impossible to believe that those events were real just by hearing about them for a few hours.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you. . . it’s just that I can’t imagine it.”
“I know.”
Siwoo took a bite of yukhoe. After talking for so long, he felt hungry again.
He asked, in a careless tone, as he gulped it down.
“I heard that Choi Dae-soo is the president?”
Si-joon, who hadn’t expected to be asked that question, pursed his lips for a moment.
“How did you know?”
“In the tower. I happened to ask who the president was when I was investigating how many years had passed since I was there.”
“I see. . . You must have been surprised. Of all people, that bastard became president.”
“Surprised? More like amused.”
“I’m really sorry. I should have stopped him, but it wasn’t as easy as I thought.”
Siwoo downed the beer in his cup. The alcohol on Earth was much better than in the other world.
Over there, horse urine and alcohol had tasted the same. Of course, he had never actually tasted horse urine.
The cold beer in the cup slid down Siwoo’s throat in one gulp.
It felt refreshing, both in his esophagus and in his head.
“There must have been all sorts of circumstances, for you and the others.”
Siwoo reassured him in a deadpan tone.
Since he was a man of few words, Min Si-joon was able to grasp the deep meaning behind that sentence at once.
“If older brother had been there, if you had been there, everything would have been different.”
Siwoo didn’t respond to that deep self-reproach.
Empty words of comfort benefited neither the listener nor the speaker.
“Anyway, I heard you’re the head of a guild. You’ve done well for yourself, even without me.”
Not just any guild, but one of the Heptagrams, the [𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐆𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝], which stood shoulder to shoulder with the top guilds in the country.
In addition, the dungeons and gates it possessed were enormous, and Min Si-joon’s business acumen was also excellent, so it was said that the items processed from magic stones accounted for a considerable amount of revenue.
A huge guild and a successful item workshop. The countless hunters and enormous capital that came with it.
Choi Dae-soo must be drooling.
Siwoo suddenly felt like he could see right through Choi Dae-soo’s intentions.
In a sense, he was a really consistent bastard.
“That’s why I’m wondering, what do you want to do in the future? I think you should take a break at a villa somewhere until you’re back in shape.”
“Why? Because of Choi Dae-soo?”
Siwoo, who had seen right through Min Si-joon’s intentions, asked in return.
“. . .Since you’ve figured it out, I won’t beat around the bush. I know better than anyone how strong you are. But Choi Dae-soo. . . is on a different level from the old days! We need to prepare for at least 2 years, if not 1.”
He looked at his brother’s face. It was desperate.
Siwoo had also heard a little bit about it from Shin Ji-soo.
About how much of a monster Choi Dae-soo had become.
“Si-joon.”
“. . .Yeah.”
“I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”
But he wasn’t scared.
Choi Dae-soo wasn’t the only monster.
Siwoo continued, pouring himself another beer.
In fact, what he had been most curious about was what came next.
“By the way, what about the kids?”
“The kids?”
“My disciples.”
Siwoo didn’t miss the subtle change in Min Si-joon’s expression.
“We all live separately. We haven’t been in touch for a while.”
“I see. Are they all okay?”
Min Si-joon took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. It was a deep exhalation filled with many meanings.
“First of all, Xiaolong went back to his hometown.”
“That’s like Xiaolong. What about Yeohwa?”
“Kang Yeo-hwa. . . . . . went over to Choi Dae-soo’s side.”
Hmm, that’s a bit unexpected.
Siwoo found the taste of the beer in his mouth bitter. Of all people, Yeo-hwawould do that.
“What about Min-jun?”
This time, the answer was much slower in coming.
Siwoo looked at his brother, who couldn’t meet his eyes and was stalling.
Si-joon, who had been choosing his words so carefully, finally opened his mouth.
“He’s dead.”
・・・・・・
Silence.
Siwoo felt his emotions churning at the unexpected and continuous answers.
“Dead? Who killed him?”
Min Si-joon shook his head.
Siwoo’s heart ached at that feeble shake of the head.
“If we had a body, we could find out.”
At Siwoo’s words, Min Si-joon licked his parched lips.
“That’s. . . there’s no body.”