WE TRIED TRANSLATIONS x FLAME COMICS

Translator: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint ◈

Chapter 280: Episode 52: ■■ (3)

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The nebula Eden.

This nebula, made up of the Angels of the Apocalypse, was the calamity of all demonkind and the Demon Realm's eternal nemesis. They were guardians of heaven, composed of angels who feared no evil in the world.

However, even the terrifying angels of Eden had something they hated.

[Therefore, everyone in Eden must remain vigilant and ready...]

It was Metatron's assembly hour. Incidentally, today's lecturer was Jophiel, Commander of the Red Cosmos.

[I urge you never to fall for demonkind's two-faced strategy of war and peace...]

Gabriel frowned, tapping the floor with the ball of one foot.

[Ah, why did it have to be Jophiel today?]

Thousands of low-grade angels stood in formation on Eden's parade ground.

At their head stood the Archangels like drill instructors, and Gabriel was one of them.

Lily Blooming in Aquarius, Gabriel.

Protector of Youth and Travel, Raphael.

Friend of Justice and Harmony, Raguel.

Aside from the Archangels on assignment, most of the highest-Status Constellations who loafed around Eden had gathered here.

Jophiel's moral lecture had already been going on for an hour.

Gabriel, secretly yawning over and over, scanned the companions on the parade ground with drowsy eyes when something strange suddenly caught her attention.

[Hey, where's Uriel?]

Raphael, who had been dozing on a cloud overhead, crumpled his curly hair and answered.

[She's in confinement.]

[Confinement?]

[The Scribe chewed her out hard. Didn't you know?]

[...What did she do?]

Looking annoyed, Raphael borrowed the power of the wind to carry the words over.

Gabriel's eyes went round.

[What? Really? Uriel?]

[Yeah, yeah. She's even been banned from Star Stream broadcasts for three years.]

That Uriel had been ordered into confinement for three years? Gabriel broke into a grin at the unexpected news.

[The Star Stream boards should be nice and quiet for a while.]

The assembly ended about thirty minutes later.

After dismissing the low-grade angels, Metatron called the Archangels over separately.

Metatron's ash-gray hair fell to his waist. The Scribe of heaven looked especially tired today after rushing everywhere to block the Plausibility of Harmageddon, which had suddenly come surging in.

Pushing up the thin rims of his glasses, Metatron said,

[You worked hard, Jophiel. It was an excellent presentation.]

Jophiel bowed deeply.

After looking around at the Archangels, Metatron asked,

[...Uriel didn't come?]

[You put her in confinement, Scribe. Like she'd actually show up.]

The other Archangels snickered at Gabriel's sarcasm. Metatron, however, didn't laugh.

The Archangels exchanged glances. There wasn't a single angel here who didn't know Uriel was the Scribe's headache. The first to step up was Archangel Raguel, whose cheeks were lightly dusted with freckles.

[Um, Scribe. Isn't three years of confinement a bit much? Uriel had gotten a lot brighter lately thanks to the Star Stream...]

For Constellations forced to endure tedious ages, the Star Stream meant a great deal. Some angels even called the Star Stream the only drug permitted in Eden.

[What are you talking about, Raguel? Do you know how much the Scribe has let that ■ off already?]

Raguel's expression stiffened at Gabriel's words.

[Gabriel. Insulting a fellow angel is a serious offense.]

[Did I say anything wrong? She used to go around chopping off demons' heads whenever she got bored, then all of a sudden she got obsessed with something weird...]

It was Metatron who calmed the atmosphere before it could turn ugly.

[Gabriel. I will decide how Uriel is to be treated.]

At the sacred aura rising around Metatron, the heated angels all shut their mouths at once. Once the area quieted down, Metatron brought up the real matter.

[In relation to the Demon Realm Pact, I intend to give you all a new mission.]

The Demon Realm Pact. Tension flickered across the Archangels' faces.

As it was, the balance between Eden and the Demon Realm had recently been shaken by the armed clash that had broken out in the 73rd Demon Realm.

[We need an Archangel to monitor the ruler of the 73rd Demon Realm, the Demon King of Salvation.]

Bewilderment spread across the Archangels' faces.

Gabriel asked in a sharp voice.

[Wait a second, wasn't that originally Uriel's mission? And what does that have to do with the Demon Realm Pact...?]

[I will omit the complicated explanation. More importantly, Uriel is in confinement, so it seems another Archangel will have to take on the task.]

Metatron's gaze swept over the Archangels.

[Raphael has a doctrinal tour starting next week, and Raguel is scheduled to visit Veda, so the one with an opening is...]

The Archangels' gazes, following the Scribe's, finally came to a stop.

[...Me?]

* * *

Starting the day after the banquet, the Allies began enjoying unexpected luxuries.

"...But Dokja-ssi, is it really okay for me to accept something like this?"

"I bought it for you, Hyeongseong-ssi."

As if he were trying to make up all at once for not taking care of the Allies until now, Kim Dokja bought a pile of things from the Dokkaebi Compendium every single day and gave them to the Allies to wear or use. The most excited were the kids.

"Hey, look at this, Shin Yuseong!"

"I got one too, you know?"

Shin Yuseong and Gilyeong roamed the streets with goofy grins, draped in all the accessories Dokja had bought them. Seeing that, Jeong Huiwon let out a snort and said,

"He turned the kids into Christmas trees."

The two bickering children were sitting on Lee Hyeongseong's broad shoulders. He wore the same foolishly delighted expression. It seemed he quite liked the new shield Dokja had given him.

"...Three idiots."

Muttering that, Huiwon turned her head, only to see Lee Jihye approaching with a beaming smile, a triangular rice-ball-like helmet perched on her head.

"Hasn't Uncle Dokja been really good to us lately?"

"Maybe he finally realized how precious his companions are."

At Huiwon's response, Jihye narrowed her eyes and went, "Hmm."

"Unni... did you not get anything?"

"I don't need anything."

In truth, Dokja had come looking for Huiwon several times too, but instead of bringing any items, he had only told her about a few Hidden Pieces and taught her training methods.

Even now, Huiwon could vividly remember Dokja's face when he had gone back looking oddly downcast after she replied, "I can do that on my own now, even if you don't tell me anymore."

Huiwon was just about to flick Jihye on the forehead for giggling when someone poked her shoulder a few times. When she turned around, there stood Dokja, looking exhausted somehow.

"Oh, Dokja-ssi..."

Dark circles hung beneath his eyes as Dokja held something out toward Huiwon.

"This is..."

"It's a new suit. This one should be easier for you to move around in."

Huiwon accepted the clothes almost absentmindedly. It was a blue-black special forces uniform with a large cape attached. She had once seen it at the auction house, but it had been so expensive she'd given up on it.

"This is expensive. What I have now is already more than enough..."

Dokja silently shook his head. Looking at that unreadable expression, Huiwon was reminded of something from long ago. Come to think of it, Dokja had given her clothes like this back in Chungmuro too.

Back then, she'd been in rags...

[The Constellation Bald Army General feels slighted by the Incarnation Jeong Huiwon.]

"You said you'd become my sword. I should at least do this much."

Leaving those words behind, Dokja was already heading far away, as if he had something else to do. Huiwon watched his retreating back, then ran her fingers over the special forces uniform left in her hands. Beside her, Jihye teased,

"Unni, your mouth..."

"What."

"No, it's just that there was something on the corner of it. More importantly, Unni, if you don't like that, trade with my general's helmet. I've seriously always dreamed of a special forces uniform."

"No."

Looking more closely, Huiwon saw a pattern on the special forces uniform similar to the one on Hyeongseong's shield. Made by... Yang... San...? Since Huiwon wasn't very good at English, she scratched her head for a moment before giving up on reading it. Anyway, it had to be something good.

"But why's that man suddenly acting like this? He's the same person who even sold Food for money..."

"Who knows. Maybe he's plotting another weird scheme like before."

Certainly, if it was Kim Dokja, that wouldn't be strange either.

After giving her an item this nice, he'd definitely make her work like crazy again.

Feeling like an office worker who had taken an advance on a paycheck, Huiwon tried the special forces uniform on this way and that. She and Jihye were discussing how to drape the coat to make it look cooler when someone who had appeared like a ghost trudged past them.

"Sangah-ssi, is something wrong?"

"Huh? Ah, yes. No."

Yu Sangah, who had been staring blankly into space, was startled and opened and closed her mouth. Her empty eyes were unsettling. Huiwon was about to say something after realizing something was off, but Jihye was a step faster.

"Aha, I get it. Sangah-unni didn't get an item either, did you?"

When Huiwon jabbed her in the side, Jihye bent over with a faint yelp. Sangah smiled weakly.

"I think I've just had a lot on my mind lately. More importantly, the clothes look great on you, Huiwon-ssi."

"Ah, yes. Dokja-ssi gave them to me... Though now that I'm actually wearing them, I wonder if they're a bit too much."

"I think they suit you."

"Really? Thank you."

Embarrassed, Huiwon scratched her head.

A bracelet that hadn't been there before was gleaming on Sangah's wrist. The atmosphere was just starting to get awkward, so Huiwon thought this was a good chance.

"Right, how are things with Dokja-ssi these days?"

"...Dokja-ssi?"

Sangah's face looked as though she had no idea what Huiwon was talking about. Thinking she might have put her foot in it, Huiwon started rambling.

"Uh, well... I was just wondering if the two of you were getting along..."

Tilting her head, Sangah touched her lips and murmured,

"Hmm, I think it's about the same as when we worked at the company..."

The same as when they worked at the company. Judging by that response, it didn't seem like a very hopeful sign. Jihye whispered into Huiwon's ear.

"I told you before. There's nothing going on between them. Uncle Dokja's type isn't someone like her..."

"...Forget that. More importantly, has your great master woken up yet?"

"Not yet. They said it'll take a few more days."

In the distance, Dokja, not even knowing they were talking about him, was wobbling toward the hospital ward like a squid.

"Is he going to give something over there too...?"

Beyond the clock tower, which was now nearing completion, the sun was sinking low. The noisy laughter of the Allies could be heard. Pildu Gong was taking apart something like a heavy machine gun, and Han Myeongoh was choosing a prosthetic leg to use temporarily.

For some reason, Huiwon's heart swelled.

Now all the Allies were together.

They would soon return to Earth, and they would walk back into the hell of the Scenarios. Even so, Huiwon wasn't afraid. Looking at the setting sun beyond the clock tower, Huiwon remembered something she had once heard in the Theater Dungeon.

"I prayed that I'd get to see the epilogue of a certain novel."

Back then, Dokja had looked terribly lonely as he said it.

She hadn't even known what those words meant at the time, but now she felt like she understood a little. And at the very least, there was one thing she was certain of.

When that thing called an "epilogue" came, Kim Dokja wouldn't be alone.

* * *

A few days after the banquet ended, the Constellations staying in the industrial complex started leaving one by one. I was about to head outside to see them off when I noticed two flowers tucked into my coat's breast pocket.

"What is this?"

A red cosmos and a lily.

That was a thoroughly mismatched combination. Did the kids stick them there?

I took the flowers with me for now and headed toward the plaza. A few Constellations were already passing through the portal. Some of those leaving had made special contracts with the nebula Kim Dokja Company, and the old man before me was one of them.

[You look like someone preparing for war. There's no need to be in such a hurry.]

"Every Scenario is a war."

At my words, Mass Production Maker let out a hearty laugh.

[Don't grow numb to it. I want you to become an existence different from the other Constellations.]

"Thank you for your help."

I bowed lightly with a smile as well. Mass Production Maker, who had been opening the door of his vehicle, paused and turned back toward me.

[There's one last thing I'd like to ask...]

"Yes. Ask me anything."

But Mass Production Maker didn't ask right away. Instead, he took out a cigarette and held it in his mouth.

[...Have you ever thought about what ■■ really is?]

Click.

A flame rose at the tip of the cigarette. Letting out smoke like a sigh, Mass Production Maker continued.

[Is it a place we reach because we desire it, or a place Fate makes us reach? Is it a location, or is it a life, or does it refer to some spacetime?]

Mass Production Maker had probably repeated that question to himself countless times.

And in the end, he probably hadn't found an answer.

"What's certain is that it's the end of all stories."

[Sometimes, your calmness amazes even me.]

"I get nervous too."

[I've felt this since the Gourmet Association, but you're worse at lying than I thought.]

Mass Production Maker smiled like a child.

[That's why I'm asking... Is your ■■ truly the Final Chapter?]

One line that struck while my guard was down.

I reflexively parted my lips, then shut them again.

Mass Production Maker waited patiently for me to speak. It was only after his cigarette had burned down about halfway that I opened my mouth.

"I don't know where this story will take me. But... I'm certain that the place I want to go is the Final Chapter."

Even after I finished speaking, he went on listening to my words.

As if my story were still continuing. Only after he had burned away the remaining half of the cigarette did Mass Production Maker smile faintly.

[I hope I'm there on your last page too.]

"Travel safely, sir."

[Take care.]

With the light sound of an engine, Mass Production Maker's vehicle slid into the portal. The other Constellations vanished into the portals one after another as well. As the portals closed, ominous sparks writhed beyond the empty sky.

Watching those sparks, I quietly brushed the flower petals in my pocket with my fingers.

There were about three days left now.

Soon, the most important story in this industrial complex would begin.

Footnotes:

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