Home/The Beloved Young Divine Child of the Twelve Zodiacs/ch 105

Chapter 105

"Then what do you know?"

"Everything you've seen."

At the cryptic reply, Woo-hyun scowled.

"I came for a dream interpretation—stop speaking in riddles. Talk plainly."

The man reached out and gestured for him to come closer. Feeling uneasy, Woo-hyun stepped forward.

Thud!

A formation flashed beneath him, and his breath caught.

"Guh!"

He clutched his throat, glaring at the man. He wanted to speak but couldn't; he wanted to move but was frozen. Realizing he'd walked into a trap, he scanned for an escape.

The curtain between them parted, and the man's hand reached for his forehead. One arm was thick and strong; the other was withered and twisted.

A one-armed man?

He strained to see through the gap. As the man's fingertips touched his forehead, sharp nails seemed to dig into his skull.

"Aaagh!"

A flood of unfamiliar memories filled his mind, and he screamed, writhing on the floor.

"I won't forget today's humiliation. One day, I'll tear you apart!"

"Try me."

Vague dreamscapes became vivid. These weren't his memories, yet they felt like his own. Strangest of all, Geum Dogyeong appeared in them.

The lingering pain made him clutch his head.

"Huff."

While he struggled, the man remained still. When the memories subsided, the curtain fell away entirely.

Woo-hyun gasped. The imposing man had only one arm and one leg, sitting cross-legged.

"Don't think I've forgotten you all this time. I was simply waiting."

Through his shaggy black hair, bloodshot eyes glinted. Just facing him was chilling.

"Who are you?! Are you from the Black Demon clan?!"

"Didn't your teacher tell you who I am?"

"Answer me!"

He growled, pinned to the ground. The man's pressure was so immense he could barely lift his head—his trembling legs proved it.

The man scoffed. "You don't recognize me. You must have no memory of resonating with me that day. Pitiful."

"What?"

"You said you wanted to avenge your grandmother?"

"...!"

The mention of his grandmother froze him. The man seemed to see right through him.

"Pathetic. You don't even know that the enemy you want to kill is yourself."

"What are you talking about! They killed her...!"

He tried to argue—then heard it.

"Woo... Woo-hyun... Why..."

A growl.

His grandmother's dying voice, followed by an animal's roar.

"...No. That's impossible."

His lips trembled. In the newly awakened memory, his grandmother was dying—trampled by his own transformed self.

That day, it hadn't been the Black Demon clan who killed her. It was Woo-hyun himself, unable to control his power after his first transformation. When he came to, she was already cold. Horse-hoof marks surrounded her, and black fur was clutched in her hand.

He stood frozen, speechless. The man watched him.

"Quite a shock, I see. Though it's only natural, since you killed the one who named you."

"No, no... It's all lies."

He buried his face in the ground, muttering.

"She... they killed her..."

"Yes. It was our first shared kill. You were worthy of being my successor."

The man grinned, as if proud. Disgusted, Woo-hyun forced himself up on trembling legs.

"Don't insult her. It was you—you're trying to blame me!"

"You insulted her with your own hands, and you blame me?"

"I...!"

The man glanced outside and frowned.

"Hm. We'll stop here today."

The ground shook violently.

"We'll meet again soon."

With that, the entire formation seemed to shift—and in an instant, Woo-hyun was alone in an empty lot. The antique shop was gone without a trace.

He couldn't move for a long time, staring at the overcast sky. Raindrops began to fall, soaking his cheeks. Soon, it poured.

He slammed his fist into the mud.

"Damn it!"

He pounded the ground until his knuckles bled, weeping. All the years he'd spent sharpening his blade for revenge—now he couldn't forgive himself. The one who killed his grandmother was none other than himself.

He collapsed, sobbing.

"Damn it!"

His body shook like a leaf. His grandmother's voice, whispering that it was okay even as she held him, echoed in his mind like a curse.

He couldn't forgive himself. He wanted to slit his throat and beg her forgiveness. Just as he drew his sword and aimed at his neck—

"What are you doing!"

A small, soft hand stopped him. Arin, her eyes full of concern, gripped the sword with both arms, her gaze fixed on him.

"Put that down. Now…!"

At her pleading cry, the sword fell from his hands.

Clatter.

The sound of metal against stone mingled with the rain.

"...How did you find me?"

At his question, Arin hesitated. On her way back from additional questioning about Sosso's disappearance, she had suddenly sensed Woo-hyun's energy vanish. Since the talisman incident, she'd been in the habit of reading his energy—and she'd rushed to the last place she'd felt it, only to find him about to slit his throat.

Her heart pounded as she raised her voice.

"What happened to you? Why were you pointing a sword at yourself? Were you bewitched?"

"..."

She pressed him, but he didn't answer—he just stared blankly. Like an empty gourd, fragile and broken. Sensing something terrible had happened, she took charge.

"Let's go. You'll catch a cold in this rain."

He laughed bitterly at her tug.

"Where?"

"Where else? Home!"

At the word "home," he laughed again—a hollow sound. He had no home to return to. He had destroyed the only one he had with his own hands. And all his bluster about revenge had been a lie. Self-loathing surged.

He pulled away.

"I can't go."

The clearer his memories became, the more monstrous he felt.

"Everyone around me ends up unhappy. I shouldn't have been born in the first place."

"Don't say that."

"You'll suffer if you stay with me."

His eyes were empty, like a void. Then Arin stepped forward and slapped him across the face.

Slap!

Her hand—small and slender—struck him, leaving a red mark on his cheek. Stunned, he stared at her. She took a deep breath and spoke firmly.

"Look at me."

Her golden eyes glowed with a soft light. In their warmth, he found himself unable to look away. His rage subsided, and his mind cleared.

"Just because you were born doesn't mean you deserve to suffer. Do you think I'd be here if it were that simple? I don't care what you've done or what you'll do. You're someone I've chosen to protect—so don't you dare try to throw your life away."

Her voice was calm but resolute. She had faced a similar darkness before—and she had overcome it. If he wanted to give up, he'd have to go through her first.

"...Why?"

His voice cracked. He didn't understand—why would she protect someone like him?

"Because you're my friend."

He had heard those words before. But now they felt different—heavier. The thought that she had come running, braving the rain, just for him.

"My grandmother... She was the first and last person to call me that. And I killed her."

He hadn't meant to say it. But the words spilled out, and he couldn't take them back.

Arin didn't flinch. She held his gaze and said,

"Then you need to live. Not just for yourself—but for her too."

He stared at her, speechless. She reached out and wiped the rain from his face, her hand gentle but firm.

"Come on."

This time, he didn't pull away.

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