SSS-Class Revival Hunter - Chapter 133

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

◈ SSS-Class Revival Hunter ◈

Chapter 133: ■■. (1)

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For better or worse, the director of the orphanage where I grew up was an indifferent person.

The children at the orphanage grumbled about it.

-It's too sloppy. All our birthdays are on January 1st?

-They just can't be bothered to hold several birthday parties.

-And what's with my name? Kim Maeng-Ja*?

*Maeng-Ja is the Korean name of the Chinese Philosopher Mencius.

-Hey, at least your name starts with Kim, which sounds natural. I got Kim Han-Bi-Ja... Just call me HanBiJa**.

**Han-Bi-Ja is the Korean name of Han Feizi.

I thought so too. Even after entering the Tower, I continued to think so.

But now, after meeting so many people, the Sword Emperor, my master, Raviel, and all the others, when I think back on it...

-Why does the director act like that?

It might sound strange, but the director always seemed wary and cautious of loving us too much.

-Doesn't the director love us?

I remembered a conversation I had with the director the day I was given a hand-me-down middle school uniform.

Upon hearing my question, the director looked serious and said, "Wait just one day, please." Whenever faced with a serious question, the director always asked for a day's delay.

And then answered.

-You asked yesterday why I don't show more love to you kids.

-Yes…

I felt somewhat guilty for even asking that question over the day. But the director, seemingly uncaring about my guilty conscience, methodically explained what had been thought over that day.

-Gong-Ja, people tend to pretend. It's the easiest thing in the world. Pretending to be smart, strong, kind, as if they truly know something… You do that with your friends, right? And I do that too, giving you kids names of sages. Adults do it as well.

The director rubbed their face with dry hands.

-Everyone wears a mask. There is no particular need to remove it. But if you grow too accustomed to it, eventually you forget that you are wearing a mask at all. You forget. That is what it means to become intoxicated by it.

The director looked at me carefully.

Checking if I was following the conversation.

-Imagine this. If I show my irritation in front of you kids, what would you think?

-Oh, the director must be stressed today...?

-Exactly.

The director smiled bitterly.

-Sorry. I do that sometimes.

It happened about once a month.

-Anyway, the important thing is, I'm someone who occasionally gets irritated, and you kids know that very well. Do you understand? I'm that kind of person. And you know me.

But, the director continued.

-What if I was always a loving person? Always saying [I love you], smiling [You kids are the joy of my life], hugging you saying [I cherish nothing more than you]. What if I, being that person, show irritation once a year?

The director shook their head.

-Then you'd think, [Why is the director angry at us?] You wouldn't understand. Because you would think I'm the person who loves you the most.

[The director says they love us most, so why are they angry?]

-.......

-You're still young. So you can only think of the easiest answer. [Ah, I must have done something wrong.]

The director shivered slightly.

-Even if I get irritated only once a year, Gong-Ja. If that adds up over 10 years, that's 10 times. Even if you remember only half of that, it's 5 times. And those 5 memories are more than enough to shape one's personality.

The director then fell silent for a while.

-Don't do that.

The director murmured.

-Remember me as someone who easily gets stressed and irritated. Someone too lazy to even host birthday parties. That's the truth. Don't blame yourselves. You did nothing wrong. Don't let someone like me twist you.

-.......

-You can become strong. As strong as possible.

In the director's office, a photocopied sheet of A4 paper was taped to the wall. It hung directly opposite the director's desk, but things like that are easily treated as background, like the pattern of the wallpaper or the grain of the flooring.

But that day, I particularly glanced at the A4 paper.

So that all people may enjoy lives worthy of human beings,

I stand upon a belief in human dignity and social justice,

and work together with individuals, families, groups, organizations, communities, and society as a whole.

Working alongside individuals, families, groups, organizations, communities, and society as a whole.

Always stand with those marginalized and suffering,

Defending their rights and interests,

Rejecting social injustice and corruption,

Prioritizing public interest over personal gain,

By observing the social worker's code of ethics,

I devote myself as a social worker possessed of morality and responsibility. Of my own free will, I solemnly swear this upon my honor.

I looked at the director.

-.......

The director seemed lost in thought, staring blankly into space.

Black eyes.

Those pupils remained in my memory.

“Sorry, Raviel. I can’t walk home with you today.”

I said as I walked out of the school gate.

"Mm."

Raviel looked at me. Her gaze slowly moved downward.

There was my hand. It was holding someone else's hand.

"......."

It was the Constellation Killer’s hand.

Constellation Killer had let me drag him all the way here by the hand. He did not ask why I was holding his hand or where I was taking him.

He simply bowed his head quietly.

“……My boyfriend sometimes shows extraordinary action. Almost a mystery in itself. I think that side of him is impressive.”

Raviel murmured.

“Do as you wish. Follow your heart. Is there anything I can help with?”

“Not yet. But I’ll tell you right away if something comes up.”

“I’ll be trusting you. Always.”

Raviel kissed my forehead and then got into the limousine without hesitation. The limousine, driven by a butler resembling the Empire's Head Butler, disappeared into the distance.

“Well then.”

I turned to Constellation Killer.

“Let’s go.”

“…Where to?”

“To your home.”

"......."

Constellation Killer hesitated for the first time. He seemed almost repulsed. But my mind was made up. I intended to first meet Constellation Killer’s parents and apologize.

‘I don’t know where to start unraveling this.’

Of course, apologizing wouldn’t end this [trauma]. It wouldn’t be resolved. As the difficulty increased, the trauma itself seemed to have turned into a stage that needed to be resolved.

‘Let’s start with what I can do.’

As always.

However, my attempt to resolve the trauma was thwarted from the very beginning.

“…This is it.”

Seeing the [home] that Constellation Killer led me to, I was at a loss for words.

It was a garbage dump.

Below a hillside, in a place sparsely covered with pine trees, there was an empty lot. This lot was the small garbage bin of the city. Discarded PET bottles, dirty styrofoam, bundles of paper messily piled up.

Right in the middle, there was a shack made of boards.

[■■ lives in a garbage dump. Even his indoor shoes and school uniform are recycled. The only piece of trash that can't be recycled is ■■.]

My head throbbed.

I had thought it was just a message smothered in malice.

Those bastards.

“Are your parents working? What do they do?”

That shack was not a haven but a hideout. The walls did not reach the roof, leaving gaps everywhere. Grey plastic covered the roof.

“My father collects scrap and sells it.”

Plastic trash surrounded the shack like a moat. Unlike other garbage around, the plastic encircling the shack had its labels torn off.

It was clean.

That made the shack appear to be floating on a white plastic sandbank.

“And your mother?”

“I don’t have a mother.”

"......."

I see.

“Are you ■■'s friend?”

After waiting for two hours, Constellation Killer’s father came home. He was a man marked by poverty. But more than his poverty, he was someone crushed by life. I realized that the moment I saw him.

A small room.

Sometimes when I looked in the mirror, I saw myself in that way.

“No. I'm not his friend.”

"Hmm...?"

The elderly man furrowed his brow. He looked too old for someone with a high school child.

He resembled the ferryman I saw in the trauma from [The Veritable Records of the Heavenly Demon.]

“I am someone who has beaten and bullied this child.”

“Uhmm...?"

The old man blinked blankly.

"......."

I realized within a minute of starting the conversation with him.

‘It's too late.’

It was already too late.

The old man before me had already been worn down until he had no wick left to burn in his heart. He was different from me in my days of living in a small room. That was the difference between that past me and this man.

Where that difference stemmed from, I couldn't tell.

“Here's the evidence. If you look at this phone, you'll see the messages. If you see this..."

One thing was certain.

This man had no strength to take responsibility for the Constellation Killer.

"Uhmm."

I showed him everything I could right away. The old man closed his eyes to the hellish scenes his child was enduring, blinking slowly.

“So that's how it is…”

The old man just stared blankly at me.

When I finished speaking, his responses stopped. It felt as if the conversation had completely ended. The old man simply waited to see if I had more to say, and if not, he just waited.

He seemed to have nothing to say to me.

'Hmm.'

I studied Constellation Killer's expression. He was not looking at his father. His face showed neither shock nor humiliation at the conversation that had just taken place. Expressionless, Constellation Killer sat quietly on the floor.

As if what was normal just flowed naturally.

‘Yes.’

That's how it was.

“I've been quite rude.”

I stood up and bowed to the old man.

“If it is all right with you, I would like your child to stay with me for a while. I want to invite him to my home. Would that be all right?”

“Go ahead…”

The old man clearly didn't understand what I was saying. He was listless. But I explained several times, not for the old man but for the Constellation Killer.

“It might be a long stay at our house. A week, a month, maybe even longer. I'll come every Saturday evening to tell you how your child is doing. Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah, do that.”

Good.

I turned to the Constellation Killer.

“Let’s go.”

"......."

“Pack what you need. As I told your father, you might stay at our house for a while.”

Constellation Killer stared up at me in silence.

“What are you trying to do now?”

For the first time, Constellation Killer's words weren't polite.

“Trying to whitewash your past because you're marrying a rich girl? Afraid it might cause trouble later? Smart move.”

My heart ached.

“Or is this another game? If you want to play, just say so. Tell me what game it is. Don’t bother with this. I’ll play along again. Should we go to the school playground at night?”

The Constellation Killer’s voice was blunt. No inflection. That was the voice of someone on the day before he chose to die by falling.

“I’m sorry.”

“You're insane? Kim Gong-Ja, you've lost it.”

“Please, just give me one more day. I’ll do whatever it takes. Please endure just one more day.”

"......."

For me, it was one of many days to come, but for the person in front of me, it was his last day.

I had no choice but to earnestly hope, to plead. There was nothing else I could do but wish and pray.

“Do whatever you want…”

Constellation Killer muttered wearily.

I grabbed Constellation Killer’s wrist and headed towards [home]. To find the unknown path, we had to pass through the school. It was only when the sunset had completely faded and the sky darkened that we arrived in a residential area.

“Wait here for a moment.”

“...”

“I’ll be back soon. Within 20 minutes. Could you wait for me?”

“Do whatever you want…”

I left the Constellation Killer by the roadside and went home first.

“Oh.”

The Guardian Spirit was in the yard. He seemed to be enjoying the night sky alone, holding a glass of whiskey.

“Back, son? You're a bit late today. Heh. Don’t tell me you're late because of your girlfriend. Let me tell you, don’t get serious until after high school graduation. Rushing in relationships never ends well.”

Sword Emperor. My partner.

The person who taught me how to look ahead.

In this world, my,

“Father.”

“…Huh?”

The Guardian Spirit blinked.

“Huh. That's strange. What is this...

Being called Father by you feels strange. More than strange, it is so awkward I feel as if the goosebumps might make me faint. Is this because I'm pleasantly drunk?”

“Father.”

I called him again.

“You wouldn’t have raised me this way.”

“What?”

“You're an amazing person. Terrifying. You might seem like a self-centered psychopath, though you do have that side, but at least you decisively end things where you think [this is not right].”

Guardian Spirit frowned.

“What are you talking about, son?”

“If you were my father, I wouldn’t have grown up as a delinquent. I might stray, but before completely going astray, you would beat me up, even half-kill me to bring me back.”

That's who you are.

“Let alone bullying a weak child to the point of suicide. You…”

『I hear a lot of people are making a fuss over it, but don't pay them any attention.』

『They couldn't make a peep in person, but online their fingers sure are lively, making all this fuss.』

『Ugh. Those kinds of people should have their fingers cut off.』

“You would never say that. You simply aren't capable of it. When you see someone suffering, you are the kind of person who swears to teach them how to become happy.”

"......."

“I’m the kind of person you despise the most. Such a person wouldn’t be affectionately called [son] by you. It’s impossible. This is an impossible world.”

Silence settled under the night sky.

In a yard where not even an insect's sound could be heard, I looked straight at the Guardian Spirit.

And said,

“You are not the Sword Emperor.”

"......."

“Get lost. Out of my sight, right now.”

At that moment.

-■■■■■.

The Guardian Spirit disintegrated.

His skin flowed, bones melted, and everything forming him evaporated. I blinked, and there was only an indistinct, oozing shadow, like a ghost.

-■■■■, ■■....

I couldn’t understand what it was saying. I couldn't recognize its face. I just knew it was the bare face of [my father] in this world.