Beyond the Eternity

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The Tyrant Ant, an insect-type monster, let out a piercing, agonized cry as its many limbs were severed in an instant. Before it could even attempt a counterattack with its remaining front limb, a chilling sensation surged through its neck. The aura-cloaked blade sliced cleanly through it. Its head hit the ground with a dull thud, rolling across the blood-slick floor.

Foul, greenish blood gushed from the gaping wound as the creature's massive body trembled, swayed, and finally collapsed with a heavy crash.

Just like that, it was dead.

"Tch. Disgusting. Got this thing's blood all over me," grumbled a voice, irritatedly.

The boy who had delivered the finishing blow wiped the splattered blood from his cheek with the back of his hand. His hair was a dark shade with hints of blackish green, and he wore a simple, casual outfit with a black theme.

The twin swords in his hands seemed to reflect a cold, indifferent image.

With those blades, he had slain countless Monsters of the Abyss, indifferent to their species or the horrors they embodied. To him, they were nothing more than moving objects to be cut down without a second thought.

Given the current state of the world, most people would think like this too.

Yoo Jinsung, fifteen years old, glanced around, searching for any more overgrown ants to cut down, but saw none.

All of them were dead.

The back, back alleyway was drenched in thick, greenish blood, and the mangled bodies of Tyrant Ants lay scattered like trash. These were creatures mutated by the 'Corruption', yet they'd all been reduced to corpses with nothing more than the swing of a sword.

A Katana.

Atop a mountain of mutilated Tyrant Ants stood a lone figure, the blade in her hand still dripping with blood.

An almost perfect figure. Her hair, pitch black and smooth like silk, seemed hastily cut as if grooming it was a mere inconvenience. The short style barely covered her ears, which suited her image well. But the word 'beautiful' didn't quite fit her. The word 'dignified' felt far more appropriate.

She was dressed as casually as Jinsung, though with even less care. A black leather blouse draped over a navy turtleneck, paired with gray jeans and worn-out shoes. The outfit looked like it had been snatched from a ruined thrift store without much thought. But then again, she'd never seemed like the type to care about appearances.

If there were countless mysteries in the world that humanity had yet to discover or solve, then that girl would undoubtedly be one of them.

Jung Yunhee.

Noticing that the last of the nightmares had been dealt with, she leapt down from the mountain of corpses and landed gracefully. Casually, she swung the katana to the side, flicking the blood off in a sharp arc that stained the ground beside her.

She then glanced at Yoo Jinsung with her calm, yet piercing eyes and asked, "Is that all of them?"

"I think so. I mean, I'd be surprised if there were any more. You were incredible, Yunhee-ssi."

Yoo Jinsung spoke with sincerity, his admiration evident in his voice. He truly respected the strength of the presence standing before him.

But the only response he received from her was a simple nod.

No acknowledgment beyond that. Not even a casual 'okay'.

Jung Yunhee simply turned and began dissecting the fallen nightmares with her pocket knife, extracting their cores and placing them inside her intermediate-grade storage ring.

Irritated, Yoo Jinsung frowned.

'What's her deal anyways? Would it kill her to communicate a little?'

Naturally, he was referring to the mysterious existence known as Jung Yunhee.

Over the past few days, as they waited for the next Story, he had noticed that Jung Yunhee was unusually quiet for reasons he did not know. Of course, if someone approached her, she'd respond, but beyond that, she made no effort to start a conversation. It was like she'd placed herself in a bubble, detached from everything and everyone, as though emotions were just… unnecessary.

She reminded him of Soo Jinyoung-nim in some ways, but Yunhee felt even more detached.

'Is it even possible for someone to be that cold?'

He wondered how she'd ever build any meaningful connections or relationships with that attitude. But perhaps that was the point. Maybe she didn't want to.

Or maybe she'd already decided that connections weren't worth it.

Whatever the case may be, she seemed like she had her own story. Everyone in this world, a ruined world, possessed their own stories and those stories shaped them into the individual they turned out to be and become.

What kind of stories shaped this rabbit-like individual?

Shaking the thought away, Yoo Jinsung scratched the back of his head as he approached her. Finally, he asked:

"How many monsters did you kill?"

"Why do you ask?" responses Jung Yunhee with a question of her own.

"Just curious. Is it bad to be curious?"

"189."

"Sorry, come again?"

"I hunted 189 of these guys."

Yoo Jinsung blinked, confused, then looked around. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the alley.

"Hold on, I don't think we hunted that many. There are about 70 monsters in this alley at most."

"During the past few days, I hunted these overgrown fellows thoroughly. They have predictable feeding habits, so they're easy to track and hunt."

Jinsung paused.

Despite the nineteen-year-old girl saying it casually, hunting 189 monsters was a big deal. Most Walkers in groups couldn't take down that many.

The reason why Night Terrors were so important was because of the Cores within their bodies. These cores contained energy that could be used to raise one's physical or magical attributes. However, there was a limit to how much one could enhance their body. Thus, cores were used for another purpose.

Coins.

That digital currency had become the new standard when the Old World came to an end. The old currency, the Won (₩), couldn't buy anything anymore. It was completely useless.

On the other hand, coins could be used to purchase useful things like survival equipment, weapons, artifacts, and even skills from the Shop.

There was a limit to how much one could raise their overall stats, but the same logic didn't apply to skills.

A weapon that breaks could ruin your lifeline, but a skill couldn't be physically broken.

If Jung Yunhee had really obtained over a hundred nightmare cores by hunting that many monsters, then she would've had enough coins to acquire some powerful skills.

... At least, that was what Yoo Jinsung thought.

His name wasn't Jung Yunhee, and he sure as hell couldn't think like her. So there was no way he could possibly know what she used those acquired skills for.

But that wasn't what he was concerned about.

"Aren't you pushing yourself too much?"

"Isn't that what you people repeatedly ask Suhye-nim?"

"We have our reasons. You two haven't fully recovered."

"It's meaningless."

"It's not meaningless. You're not in the best shape."

"What do you know?"

"I don't know much, but I do know that truth."

Yoo Jinsung said firmly and narrowed his eyes. "You must have thought I didn't notice, huh? You paused for a moment and clutched your arm when you were fighting the Tyrant Ants. It was brief, sure, but what would've happened if you were up against someone tougher? Like, for example, that time?"

At those words, Jung Yunhee finally stopped moving the knife.

That memory lingered. That disgraceful memory that she wanted to erase but couldn't.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she bit down hard, the tension spreading to her clenched jaw. The hand gripping the knife tightened, her knuckles turning white, the blade trembling slightly under the strain. For a moment, it seemed as if the knife might snap in two.

But Yunhee forced herself to breathe, reining in the surge of anger. She controlled her strength, and buried her frustration deep beneath a cold, practiced exterior.

With her back turned to Yoo Jinsung, he couldn't see the subtle tremor in her hand or the tension in her posture. As such, he had no reason to believe anything else had occurred.

"...."

Following that, an awkward, profound silence erupted between the two. It was as if the air quality had been filled with something thick and heavy. Yoo Jinsung felt like he would suffocate and subconsciously shifted his weight.

Then, after a moment of that awkward silence, Jung Yunhee finally opened her mouth.

"It's fine. Such a scenario won't happen again." Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion, as if the topic didn't warrant further discussion. Without missing a beat, she resumed cutting.

She sliced open the monster's abdomen, gliding her knife through flesh like it was second nature. Bones snapped under the force of her hands, organs were neatly separated, and with a quick, fluid motion, she extracted the core. She wiped the blood from her fingers on a ragged cloth before storing the core in her dimensional storage ring.

Without delay, she moved on to the next carcass, and repeated the same process. Like a seasoned professional hunter, she showed no signs of discomfort, indifferent to the sticky warmth of blood staining her gloves and the foul stench hanging thick in the air.

She moved so professionally and gracefully that Yoo Jinsung couldn't help but watch in silence, unable to look away.

The blood-soaked task was incredibly tedious. The Tyrant Ants weren't some small slug in the mud. Each of them was at least the size of a compact car, and their exoskeletons were tough to cut with an ordinary knife. The process of extracting every core was time-consuming, since one required precise cuts to avoid damaging the valuable material within.

Not only cores were useful. Other parts of dead nightmares could fetch a great price on the market. But she worked through it without flinching, as though this was just another day's work.

He wasn't a stranger to such labor either, and he knew the importance of the cores. After all, they weren't just trophies. They were money. And so, realizing that the task wasn't going to be finished anytime soon, Yoo Jinsung began cutting up the monsters he'd slain, carefully pulling out the cores and storing them.

He was also an individual with basic needs and wants. Therefore, he also needed money. And the source of that money came in the form of 'cores.'

The two of them worked in silence, extracting cores from the nightmarish carcasses like employees of some hidden, clandestine organization tasked with handling the supernatural.

There was no room for conversation, only the rhythmic sounds of knives slicing through flesh and the occasional crack of bone.

At some point in the past, Yoo Jinsung had sought to gain independence. He'd asked Lee Jongho-nim to teach him how to properly dissect monsters and extract cores. Lee Jongho, an ex-military officer, had done more than that as he'd taught Jinsung some survival lessons and tactics as a bonus.

"You never know what might happen," Jongho had said. "It's better to be prepared than regret it later."

Yoo Jinsung had absorbed everything like a sponge, understanding the value of knowledge, especially when the next Narrative was always a mystery. It was possible that they could be sent to some deserted island of sorts and given some unknown task.

It would be a complete tragedy If they did not die from monsters, but from thirst and hunger.

What was the point of skills and abilities if one could still die from their own physiology?

In the end, no matter how many skills and abilities they added to their arsenal, if their roots were still human, then there was no point.

This simple truth would serve as a source of despair for many Walkers and Aspirants later down the 'one-way road', but Yoo Jinsung felt nothing.

After all, he had already experienced his own despair.

At some point, he became fully absorbed in his task, and the world around him faded into the background like the blurred edges of an old portrait.