The Academy’s Sashimi Sword Master — Chapter 291: The Founding Hero (2)

Chapter 291: The Founding Hero (2)

The‍ boss grabbed my‌⁠ limp arm and‌‌ pulled me up.‍

“Get‍ up already. Take‌ this and snap⁠⁠ out of it.”‍⁠⁠

He‍‌ shoved a glass‌‌ of water at‌⁠ me from the‌‌ table, still holding⁠‍ the sashimi knife in his other⁠‍ hand.

‘Still‌ the same.’

This man never let⁠ go of that knife, no matter‌‍ what he was doing.

I took the glass‍ he offered and⁠⁠ sipped it like⁠‍ a guilty criminal.⁠

“…Ugh.”‍‌

A groan slipped out—not‍⁠ because the water‌ was poisoned, but‍‍ rather…

“What?⁠‍ Your stomach hurting⁠ from drinking on⁠ an empty stomach?”‍‍

Sharp⁠⁠ as ever. He⁠ hadn’t changed a bit.

“…Yeah.”⁠‌⁠

I nodded silently.

The⁠‍‍ boss looked at⁠‍ me sternly, his‌⁠ gaze burning like a spark, then‍‌⁠ sighed softly.

“Wait‌ a sec. I’ll‍ get you something‌ light to eat.”‍

With‍ that, he turned⁠ and headed to‍ the kitchen.

“What‍ the hell is‌ all this…?”

Left‍ alone, I drained⁠‍ the water in‍⁠ one go. Cold‌‍ water on an⁠‍‍ empty stomach irritated‍ my gut, but‌ at least the‍ grogginess faded.

‘This‍ is the place‌‍ where I worked under the boss.’‍

I examined the interior‌‌ carefully before reaching⁠ that conclusion. I wasn’t so old‍ as to forget‌‍ a place where‌ I spent nearly‌ a decade.

“Even though it doesn’t⁠ look like it,⁠ I’m still just‍‌‍ 18 with my‌ whole life ahead‌ of me…”

I murmured that while‌⁠ running off to‍⁠⁠ the bathroom. After‌‍‍ a short hallway⁠⁠ and turning a corner, there it⁠ was. I stubbed‌‌ my toe against‍ some stacked soju‌ crates.

“Argh.”⁠

It‌⁠ hurt. But honestly,‍‌ I was surprised.‍ Every little detail‌‍‌ was incredibly real.‌‌⁠ Even the pain‌ of a stubbed‍ toe—one of the worst pains—hit just‍ right.

“……!”‍‌

In‍‍ front of the bathroom mirror, my eyes flew open.‍

“God…”⁠‍

I ran my fingers‍‌‍ across my cheek‌⁠‍ as if scratching‌‍⁠ it. Did I go back in‍⁠ time? If that‍ were the case,‌ I’d think this‍‍ was just some⁠⁠ fever dream.

But⁠ the reason I was horrified was‌‍ something else—I had‍ exactly the face‍ of Kang Geom-Ma.⁠⁠ The same face‍‍ as the character from Miracle Blessing⁠ M, and I was back in⁠ the restaurant where I worked on‍ Earth.

Everything was confusing. Not‍⁠‌ just the situation,‌⁠‌ but also the‌‍ fact that the‌⁠ boss treated me‌ the same as‌⁠ always.

“What⁠ are you doing?”‍

A voice suddenly rang‍‍⁠ behind me. I turned as if‌‌ caught stealing from‌⁠ my mother’s purse.⁠‌‌ The boss clicked⁠⁠ his tongue in⁠ disapproval.

“Here⁠ I was wondering⁠‌ what big thing‍ you were doing with the bathroom‍ door open, and‌⁠ you’re just rubbing‌ your face? You⁠ that into your‍⁠ new look?”

“It’s not that…”

“Then‍‍ what?”

“…I’m‍ just a bit confused.”

“Confused⁠‍ about what?”

“……”⁠⁠

Since⁠‌ I got here,‍ everything I said‌ and did felt‌ like a jittery‌ thief. Maybe because⁠ my last name’s‌‍ Kang, like Seori’s.‍‍

“Don’t‌‌ overthink it. You’ll‍ wear yourself out.”‍

“I-it’s⁠‍ not that!”

“I’ve⁠‍‌ got the food⁠‌‌ ready. Come eat.”‌⁠‍

No‍ choice again. After‌ one last glance⁠ in the mirror,‍‍ I left the‌ bathroom.

Clack.‌

I shut the door⁠ and turned off⁠ the light. Didn’t‌ want to get⁠ stabbed over something‍⁠‌ stupid. Not that⁠‌ it ever happened—but‍⁠ just in case.‌‍

“Oh…”‍

When‌ I returned to⁠ where I’d been lying, the table‌‍‌ was perfectly set. A full three-dish‍ meal—by the boss’s⁠ standards, quite generous—with‌ soybean paste soup⁠ and white rice.⁠

My‍ favorite meal. He’d‍‌ even swept the‌ floor while preparing‌⁠ it—there wasn’t a single shard of⁠ glass left.

“Sit‌‌ and eat.”

Already‌ seated, the boss⁠ nodded at the‌‌ spot across from‍‍ him. I hesitated‌‍ a moment, but⁠⁠‍ obeyed.

I sat carefully across⁠⁠ from him. And⁠⁠ then came the‌‍ suffocating silence.

“……”

I lowered my gaze. Started counting rice‍ grains, reflecting on everything, stealing glances‍ at the boss.

“Doing⁠ a ritual or⁠⁠⁠ something?”

As⁠ expected, he scolded‍‍‌ me. The boss‍ was strict about⁠ table manners. He’d⁠ scolded me many‌ times before.

‘This⁠ is definitely the⁠‍ boss.’

Was‍ the world of⁠⁠ Miracle Blessing M just too cruel? Now I doubted‍‌‍ everything. Even with⁠ him, I wondered‍ if he really‍⁠ was who he⁠‍ seemed.

But‍‌ this man was‍ the boss. The‌‌⁠ one who took me in, raised‌ me, gave me⁠‍ shelter. A chill‌ ran under my‍⁠ eyes, and my⁠ nose tingled.

Without‍⁠ a word, I picked up the⁠ spoon. A way‍⁠ to silence emotions‍ before they spilled.‍

‘Damn‍‌ it… it’s just‌‌‌ white rice, but‍⁠ it’s insanely good.’

Maybe‌ because I was‌‍ starving? Or maybe‍ his cooking had⁠ improved? It never⁠⁠ used to taste‌‍ this good.

I moved spoon and‌‌ chopsticks nonstop. The‌⁠⁠ boss watched, expressionless.‍

He‍‌ always had that‍‌‌ vacant look, like⁠ someone who’d transcended‌‌ everything. Didn’t bother⁠ me—he was always like that.

‘Well,⁠ he is the⁠ great founding hero,‍⁠ after all.’

Saying‍ he was above‍‍⁠ worldly matters wasn’t⁠ exactly wrong.

“So.‌ What happened?”

At‍ last, the boss‍ broke the silence. Right before his chopsticks reached the⁠ fish stew.

“I‌⁠‍ thought you knew‌ everything already.”

“How‌ would I know‍ anything when you just showed up⁠⁠ out of nowhere?⁠⁠ I have no⁠ clue.”

“W-wait‍ a minute.”

I set down my‍⁠ chopsticks with a tap.

“It’s‌ not that I don’t know anything.”⁠

“You‌‌‍ keep talking selfishly,⁠ like everyone should just get what‌‍ you mean. What’s⁠‌ the point of‌‌‌ being good with⁠ a sword if⁠ you have zero‌‌ service spirit?”

“I didn’t mean it‌⁠ like that… boss.”‍‍‍

“What?”‍

“What do you think‌⁠‍ of my face?”‍

The⁠⁠⁠ boss’s brow furrowed instantly.

“This‍⁠ again with your‍ delusions?”

“What⁠ do you mean?”‌⁠

“A‌ man asking about‌‌ his face… You‍ that in love‍‌‍ with your new⁠ look?”

“So…‍‍‌ you see me with this face‍ too?”

“Of‌‍ course.”

“Then‌‍ why aren’t you⁠ surprised?”

“Why‍‌ should I be?”

“No,‍⁠ seriously.”

I ruffled my hair⁠ roughly. I’d forgotten—back⁠⁠‍ then, customers didn’t‍‍ get used to⁠‍ his blunt way‍ of speaking either.‌

‘Even‌ so, after a while they’d say‌‌ he had a face full of‌‍ craftsmanship spirit and‌ let it go.’⁠‍⁠

In‍ short, the boss⁠‍‍ wasn’t in any position to lecture‍ me on service.⁠

We‍ were two of⁠⁠ a kind. He‍‌‌ wasn’t any better⁠‌ than me.

The‌ only difference was‌ he talked little, and I talked too much.

He‌ was the first,⁠‍‌ I was the⁠‌ second.

‘Maybe I inherited my⁠‍ bad temper from‌‍‍ spending so long⁠‌⁠ putting up with‌ this man.’

Now,‌ more than when‍ I saw myself‍ in the mirror, I felt like‌ I was facing⁠ myself.

Is⁠ this what they‌ call mirror therapy?⁠‌⁠ I felt completely⁠‍ drained.

“You’ve‍⁠ always looked like‍ an adult on‌⁠ the outside, but‍ inside, you’ve always‍ wanted someone to‍‍‌ lean on.”

The‍‌ boss continued, his‍‌ gaze calm.

“Look at you now.‌⁠ You assume I know everything. But‌‍ conversation isn’t just‍‌⁠ words—it’s about sharing‌ feelings too. If only one side talks, that’s a report, not a conversation.”

Ah.‍ Now I got‍‌‍ it. This man.‌

“I⁠ don’t know what⁠⁠‍ you’re going through.⁠⁠ I can only guess.”

Wants‍ to talk with me.

“So‌ tell me, while we eat.”

Though⁠ his expression remained‍ serious, I sensed⁠ a kind smile⁠ beneath it.

“Tell⁠ me what happened in my homeland—in‍⁠ the academy I founded for you.”‍⁠‌

***⁠‌

The‌⁠‌ Chief listened with‍ his eyes closed.‍ I told him‍‍ what happened during‌‍‍ my first year‍‌‌ at Joaquin Academy.‌⁠

In⁠ short, during that‍ year I nearly‌‌ died once a month. No exaggeration.‌‍ Midterms, the buffalo⁠‍ dungeon, Avalon Island,‍ the Joaquin incident,‌ the defense of⁠ Gehenna Gate.

Accidents⁠‌⁠ and scenarios where‌‍ one wonders how⁠‍ they’re still alive.⁠ I don’t know‍⁠‍ if it was‌‌ good or bad‌ luck, but I can only say‍ Heaven protected me.‍

And‌‌ not just that. In the end,‌⁠ I was even struck by Leon‍ and thrown into‌ space. And as‍‍ if that weren’t⁠ enough, I crash-landed‌ on the Moon.⁠‍‌

That’s⁠‌⁠ where my memory‌ cuts off, and‍ now I’m here,‍ eating with the‌‌‌ Chief. Saying it‍ aloud, it sounds‌ absolutely absurd.

‘Well,‍ there was no‍ logic when I went from Earth⁠‌ to the world‍⁠ of Miracle Blessing‌ M either.’

One⁠‍ day I simply woke up in⁠‍⁠ someone else’s body.‍ I wasn’t hit by a truck or thrown off‌ a building.

It‍ just happened. Like⁠‍⁠ a year and‍‍ a half ago.⁠‌‌ Like now.

And‌‌‍ the source of⁠‍ all this causality-less⁠‌‍ chaos sat right⁠⁠‍ in front of me.

The‍‌ founding hero, Balor‍ Joaquin. His earthly‌‌ name was something‌‍⁠ as warm as⁠ Ho Ah-Hyun.

“…So‍ that’s how it⁠‌‍ went.”

The Chief opened the‍ eyes he had⁠ kept closed. Despite⁠ the gravity of⁠⁠⁠ his words, his‌ tone was surprisingly‍ flat.

“Do⁠ you have any‍⁠ idea?”

“Yes.”‍‌

“Please,‍ tell me. Why‌ did I go⁠‌ to that world?‍ And how did⁠‍ I end up⁠ here after a Dragon Ball with Leon?”

“Is‍‍ that a question‌‌ or a complaint?”⁠‍

The⁠ Chief looked at‌ me with his‌‌ chin resting on‍ his hand.

“A‍ question.”

“Well,⁠ it sounded like‌⁠ a complaint.”

The Chief sighed and‌‌ spoke.

“I‍ can’t answer the‌ first question. It‌‌ wasn’t something I intervened in. All⁠‍ I did was‍‌‍ recommend a game‌⁠ styled after my‌ homeland.”

He⁠⁠ took a sip⁠‍ of soju and⁠ continued.

“To‍ be honest, I was surprised too.‌ I never imagined that the academy⁠⁠ I founded would‌ appear exactly the⁠ same in a game. I suppose it was the‍ will of the‌ Observer.”

“…So‍ the reason I fell into Miracle⁠ Blessing M wasn’t⁠ you, but the⁠⁠‍ Observer?”

“Could‌ be. Or not.”⁠‌

“Did you become a sage in my⁠⁠‍ absence? Your ambiguity‍ is maddening.”

“The Observer never defines‍ anything for certain.⁠ He only watches.⁠‍ Avoids interference at‌⁠⁠ all costs. But⁠ if he intervened,‍ it means the‍ world’s timeline is‌ in danger.”

He‌ stopped talking and⁠ began swirling the‌ glass in his⁠ palm.

“Looks⁠⁠⁠ like he sent⁠⁠ you there to‍‌ prevent that…”

His⁠‍ face flushed slightly;⁠ he was still⁠‍ the kind to‌‌ get tipsy after‍ one glass.

“…Looks like the world’s‍‍‌ gone to hell.”

He‍‍‍ muttered like a doomsday prophet. The‍ world ended? I didn’t get it,‍ so I asked.‍⁠

“What‍ do you mean,‍‌ the world ended?”‍⁠

“Exactly‌ that. The world—or⁠ rather, the whole⁠ timeline—is doomed to‍ vanish.”

“And⁠ it’s the hero’s⁠ fault… Leon Van‌‌‌ Reinhardt?”

“No.”⁠

He‌‌ firmly shook his⁠ head and pointed‌‍‌ directly at me.‌

“You.”‌

I pointed at myself,⁠ too.

“Me?”‌‌

“Yes.‍ You destroyed the‌‌⁠ world.”

I didn’t understand. Seeing‌‍⁠ my confused face,‌ the Chief put down the soju‌‌ and filled the‌‌ glass with beer.

“The‌‌ power residing in⁠ your body could⁠⁠ erase an entire‍⁠ world with ease.”‌⁠

“Yes.”‌‍

He‌ drank as he‌‌ spoke.

“And‌‌‌ you know your⁠ body is Lycan’s.”‌

“Yes.”‍‌⁠

Face‌ flushed from the‍ alcohol, he muttered⁠‍‍ like he was‍‌ savoring the moment.

“What‍ kept the balance‌ between those two‌ things was your‌‍ humanity. But in‍‌⁠ the end, you‍ abandoned it. You‍ gave in to‍⁠‍ the urge to‌‍ slay false gods,‌ and got consumed‍ by the sword.”‌

He downed the half-full⁠‌ glass in one‍⁠⁠ go. A lethal‍ dose for him.⁠‌

“You’re⁠‌⁠ headed for a fate like the‌‌ Sword God’s. No,⁠ maybe worse. The⁠ Sword God killed‍ himself before destroying⁠‍ the world, but⁠ you’re going to⁠‍ cut down everything‍ first.”

And⁠ he added.

“Apparently,⁠‍ the bit of humanity you had‌ left brought you⁠‍ here through the‍ ‘Reverse Demonic Eye’.‍ But it doesn’t matter, the world⁠⁠⁠ is doomed.”

The‍ Chief I remembered⁠ always had a face free of‍‌⁠ shadow. But now,⁠ his expression bore‌‍ the bitterest taste⁠‌ in the world.⁠‍ That drink he⁠‍⁠ was having was⁠ bitter in more‍⁠ ways than one.⁠

“…I’m‍ sorry.”

It‌ hurt just to‍‍‍ say it. The Chief opened his‌⁠ eyes, swollen from⁠‌ alcohol.

“You⁠‍ have nothing to‌‌ apologize for. You‍‌‌ gave it your‌ all.”

He⁠‌‍ smiled calmly.

“I‍‌ don’t say that‍⁠ just because of‌‌ what you told‍‌ me. It’s because‌ I know you‌ better than anyone. You did well.‍ We may not‌⁠⁠ understand the Observer’s⁠ will, but you‌‌ did more than‌ he expected.”

I could only sigh.‌⁠ Even if the‍⁠ Chief praised me,‌‍⁠ hearing it hurt.‌

“…Isn’t‍ there another way?”⁠

“….”‍

The⁠⁠ Chief went quiet, staring into his‍ beer glass. The dim light of‌‍ the place reflected‍‌‍ like seasoning on‍‌ the counter.

Without‍‍ looking at me,⁠⁠‌ he spoke.

“There⁠ is one. But‌‌ it’s not something‌⁠ I can recommend⁠‌ to my boy.”‍

“Please,‌⁠ tell me.”

I leaned toward him.‍ The Chief gave‍‍ me a squinting⁠‍‌ side glance.

“You’ll‌ think dying is‍⁠ sweeter. Still want‌ to do it?”

I answered without hesitation.⁠⁠

“Yes.”

“That⁠⁠ world isn’t even⁠‌‌ your home. You⁠ don’t need to⁠ sacrifice yourself. So‍ why?”

“Because⁠‍‌ it’s his homeland.”‍

I smiled faintly.

“And⁠ you’re like a foster father to‍ me. So isn’t⁠ it the same⁠⁠⁠ as if it⁠‌ were my home‍ too?”

The‌ Chief was momentarily‌ stunned. Normally, that‌‌ led to a scolding.

“Idiot.”‍

But⁠‌ instead, he smiled. He tossed the‍ beer mug over⁠ his shoulder and‍‍⁠ started drinking straight‌ from the bottle.‌⁠

Just when I was⁠‌ about to stop‍‍‌ him, thinking he⁠⁠ might kill himself,‍‍‌ he slammed the‌⁠ bottle down hard⁠⁠ and wiped his‍⁠‌ lips.

“The‌ beginning and the‍ end are the⁠ same.”

At⁠ that moment, everything‍ trembled like during‌ an earthquake. Tables, lamps, decorations—all shook.⁠‌ Walls and floor cracked, and pillars‍‌ of light burst⁠ from the fissures.⁠

“Return‍⁠ to the mythical‌⁠ era, before the‌ beginning. Only then⁠‌ can you avoid‌ the predestined end.”⁠⁠

Amid‌‍‍ the blinding flashes,⁠⁠‌ I could barely‍‍ glimpse the Chief’s⁠⁠ smile.

“Run faster than light‍ and make time‍‌ flow backward. Reverse‍ everything.”

“……!”‍‌

As‌ my consciousness faded,‍‍ I heard his‌ voice.

“I’m⁠‍ not the founding‍‍ hero.”

The‌ Chief ruffled my‍ hair with his⁠ one hand.

“You‍ will be, my‌‌ son.”