Chapter 300: Epilogue (End)

Sky-blue hair lay sprawled over a desk cluttered with documents.

In the silent office, the only sound was a calm breath, soft as that of a sleeping mouse.

Clink.

The sound of something striking woke Ryozo from her deep slumber. As she lifted her head abruptly, the first thing she saw was a field of pure white.

“……?”

The confusion lasted only a moment. Ryozo let out a deep sigh. Her breath rustled the paper stuck to her forehead, making it flutter. When she pulled it off, what appeared before her eyes was a steaming cup of coffee… and a white, delicate hand.

“Director…”

“Oops, did I wake you?”

Media smiled innocently. Ryozo glanced at her sideways with a hint of disdain but soon brought the cup to her lips.

“I don’t think it’s appropriate for someone waking another up with coffee to say that.”

“Ha, sorry. But you know how things are. Just be patient a little longer, ‘future’ Director Ryozo Saki.”

Ryozo set the cup down silently, only rubbing the lipstick mark on the rim with her thumb.

“I’m not trying to wring out my successor, but bear with it until the transition’s complete. The succession ceremony is soon, right?”

“Yeah, well…”

“Still, only you, Ryozo, could memorize everything in a month. I took half a year to transition.”

“And why, if you took half a year, do I have to do it in a month?”

Ryozo responded with a hint of a complaint.

“The smarter you are, the more your body suffers!”

“Isn’t it the other way around?”

“Whichever I say~”

Media grinned playfully and sank into the sofa. Though its surface was worn, the cushioning was still comfortable.

‘Just one week left until I sit here no more.’

Media gazed at the quiet ceiling and closed her eyes.

‘Seven years since that day.’

Since the day humanity and demons wagered everything in a war for existence. Seven years since the entire world could have vanished.

‘I really thought everything would collapse.’

The memories of that day flickered beneath her eyelids.

That day. There were countless victims.

Not just among the heroes who fought, but civilian casualties were devastating. Media frowned with her eyes closed. She herself estimated and wrote the list of the dead. Each name she wrote brought tears and nausea, yet she recorded them one by one.

‘And not just that. Joaquin Academy was nearly destroyed too.’

After the war, the academy was in ruins. Despite spanning an area as large as a small city, two-thirds had been literally “erased.” The remaining buildings were in equally dire condition.

‘Back then, really…’

Just remembering it tightened her throat. She was the director. And during her tenure, the academy had nearly vanished. The weight of guilt pressed on her shoulders.

‘Everything was despair.’

Media smiled bitterly. Then, hearing another clink, she opened her eyes halfway. A sweet aroma tickled her nose.

“You’re the one who needs coffee, Director, not me.”

Ryozo, who had at some point taken the seat across from her, was preparing coffee. She added three sugar cubes and stirred with a spoon.

“You like it sweet, don’t you?”

She tested the taste with the spoon before handing her the cup. It had been a month since she started training under Media. Counting from her days as a student, they’d known each other for eight years. They shared not only tastes but also family secrets.

Media glanced between the cup and Ryozo’s face. When they first met, she was still a naive girl. But now, she was a full-grown woman. Even among her peers, Ryozo stood out for her maturity.

‘Kojima died, and she practically took over managing the Saki clan.’

Kojima, seemingly foreseeing his death, had left a prepared will, naming his eldest daughter, Saki Hina, as the clan’s successor.

But inheriting the Saki clan wasn’t like receiving a noble title. It was akin to bearing all of Japan. Hina couldn’t handle it alone.

So Ryozo helped her sister. She was the one who managed and reviewed the administration. No one knew what caused the change in her. Perhaps Kojima’s death had something to do with it. Media could only speculate; she never asked.

‘No matter how I see it… she’s an incredible girl.’

Ryozo was a recognized genius, and both for the Saki clan and her homeland, she was a pillar of prosperity. After fulfilling her duty, she transferred all authority to Saki Hina without hesitation. Though she could have seized the clan easily, she never abused her power.

Media admired that deeply and offered Ryozo the position of new director. She believed Ryozo was the perfect person to rebuild the Academy and lead a new era.

Ryozo refused immediately. She didn’t want to be involved in such affairs again. She was busy preparing for her wedding.

‘She really begged me a lot.’

Media was persistent. Only after two days and nights of kneeling and apologizing (though she’d already forgotten about it) did Ryozo agree.

Most knew how capable she was, so opposition was minimal.

Some whispered that twenty-five was too young for such a responsibility, but since “a certain person” supported her, the complaints melted away like snow under the sun.

‘Who would dare oppose her if “he” backs her? Just meeting her gaze is enough to wet yourself.’

Media smiled as she looked into her cup. Her reflection shimmered on the cinnamon-colored liquid.

“Ah, right. So how are things with Abel? You two live under the same roof, right?”

At the sly question, Ryozo’s eyebrows twitched slightly. She cleared her throat and feigned indifference.

“It’s a little awkward, but livable.”

Five years ago, Korea—a country of Eastern customs—made a bold decision to legalize polygamy. It was a desperate measure to counter the population decline following the war between humans and demons.

“Oooh~! Is this the dignity of the senior wife?!”

Media laughed as she brought the cup to her lips.

“If you keep teasing me, I won’t accept the directorship.”

“Sorry.”

Media bowed her head. After a month of kneeling, it came naturally now. Her forehead shone hard and glossy.

“May I ask just one more question, Ryozo?”

Media’s personality couldn’t abide unresolved curiosity. From Ryozo’s perspective, it bordered on sickly greed.

…But there was no avoiding it.

“Go ahead. But if I don’t answer, you’re not letting me leave, right?”

Ryozo raised her index finger in warning.

“But just one, got it? If you don’t stick to it, this time it’s really—slash.”

“How could I not keep my word, hehe?”

Media downed the rest of her cup in one gulp. She licked her lips and spoke again.

“Hey, so… with two wives, how do you divide the nights…?”

Ryozo’s eyes turned cold. Like a sky shrouded in black clouds.

“Odd days, me. Even days, Abel. Satisfied?”

Ryozo stood up abruptly and left the office. Bang! The sound of the door slamming was thunderous.

“Hmm…”

Media crossed her legs and pondered. She began calculating whether odd or even days were more frequent that month.

‘But come to think of it… Ryozo and Abel alternate, but with “her,” it’s every day, isn’t it?’

A chill ran down her spine. She hugged herself with trembling hands. It was the start of summer. Around that time, sunsets came later, and plants kept absorbing nutrients longer.

***

Knock, knock.

Ryozo’s quick steps echoed on the pavement. The ground tiles were new—so fresh that not even a single weed had grown between the seams.

Beep… Her pocket vibrated. Ryozo pulled out her phone. The exploration club’s group chat was more active than usual.

“Speedweapon: Ryozo, you off work yet? When are you coming? If the meeting gets ruined because of you, you gonna take responsibility or what?”

Speedweapon was always the first to start the chat. He worked for the Association.

Since Victor Poison retired, Changseong had taken over as president, and Speedweapon was working his tail off under him.

Even so, he still shone bright—within the Association, he was considered a rising star. His direct superior was the former director Sung.

[Rachel: (Photo drinking beer)]

Changseong’s niece had joined the Lancelot Company, where All Mute worked.

Rachel was more than satisfied with her job. The company’s laid-back environment fit her cheerful personality perfectly.

“Senior Ha-na: Ay… I’m the only one who can’t make it today…… (ㅜ△ㅜ). Eat for me too~”

She tried to sound like a twenty-something, but age doesn’t lie. Meain Poison, soon-to-be former director of the academy, was now in charge of managing the magical zone Gehenna. No one knew that place better than her.

Plus, Meain secretly helped keep Leon and Metatron in hiding. Leon should have been imprisoned, but because of his final act, he was allowed exile in Gehenna.

That decision was also influenced by “that person.” A confidential matter known to only a few.

[Horntail: T-This…]

Humanity and the demons had signed an end to the war. Not a ceasefire—the complete end. Continuing the bloodshed would only lead to mutual annihilation. But tensions between the two sides still lingered. If they had been capable of getting along, they would have done so long ago.

[Horntail: I can’t take it anymore!!]

[Speedweapon: (Photo of Horntail devouring sashimi)]

[Speedweapon: Another lake’s going down for sure today.]

A neutral party was needed between the two sides, and the dragons volunteered. They had always been a neutral race, not even involved in the Great Human-Demon War.

They had the legitimacy to do so. Horntail, as ambassador for the dragons, was still living at Choi Seol-Ah’s house.

“They’ve gathered quickly.”

Ryozo smiled as she put her phone away. The pink light of sunset bathed the academy, blending with the main building and the stone pavilion.

She glanced to the side. A memorial stone had the names of those who fell in the war engraved. Her eyes lingered for a moment.

[Absolute Archer, Saki Kojima 1973.02.23 ~ 2035.01.27.]

Instead of using the chrysanthemums prepared for the altar, she plucked a wildflower from the lawn and laid it before the gravestone.

Then, with a calm expression, she continued on.

The Korean sushi restaurant was lively.

Full of familiar faces. The Sword Master, Changseong, Mao Lang, All Mute, and Sung—all had come, except for those with unavoidable duties.

“Huh? You’re here already?”

The first to greet her was Abel, holding a tray while attending to the guests.

“Welcome, future director.”

The others chimed in when they noticed her. Everyone was visibly drunk.

Knox and Chloe were behind the counter, slicing fish nonstop. Behind them, a collection of trophies and plaques decorated the wall.

The Auditore siblings were renowned chefs, thanks to a good teacher.

“And the kids?”

Ryozo hung her coat and asked. Abel gestured with her chin.

“In the room.”

“How much have they eaten?”

“About two million won? Horntail swallowed most of it, of course.”

“Yikes! Put it on the tab. Two million is overboard.”

“Obviously. While we’re at it, should we tack on the most expensive liquor too?”

“Done.”

The restaurant owners chatted among themselves. They weren’t particularly sweet to each other, but there was no tension either.

Though slightly awkward, both were wives of the same man. Hating each other would only bring pain.

Knock, knock.

Someone came down the stairs. The sound stopped, and all eyes turned to one point. Even the friends drinking in the private room opened the door to peek.

“Did you sleep well?”

Ryozo smiled. Kang Geom-Ma came down, yawning deeply.

“Why didn’t you wake me? That upstairs room is so soundproof I didn’t even realize everyone was here.”

“You were out cold. You wouldn’t have noticed if we carried you. You really need to adjust your routine. You’re on vacation—don’t ruin your health.”

Abel scolded him. Kang Geom-Ma scratched his cheek awkwardly.

Beep beep beep.

Vice President Sung’s phone rang. He apologized to the gathered heroes and answered.

“What!?”

His face instantly turned pale. His gaze darted urgently to Kang Geom-Ma.

“What’s wrong?”

“Seems there was some friction between human forces near the gate and some demons camping nearby. It’s just shouting now… but if we don’t step in, it could escalate…”

Sung covered the screen with his prosthetic hand. His cautious manner was why he held his position.

Kang Geom-Ma nodded.

“I’ll go handle it.”

Sung opened his mouth to object, but closed it again. If he went, things would settle. Only he could mediate between humans and demons.

Kang Geom-Ma walked toward the door. Then, as if remembering something, he turned back.

“Almost forgot.”

Ryozo handed him two sashimis—replicas of his soul.

“Today’s July 7. Your birthday.”

“That’s why everyone gathered, huh?”

“Also, it’s an odd-numbered day.”

Kang Geom-Ma took both the hilt and Ryozo’s hand.

“I’ll be back.”

– The End –