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The flags of those people were hung all over the city… Ra.

What a strange story.

They are merely an alliance of groups, they cannot be the subject.

“Of course, there will be those who want to.”

And the alliance will respect that freedom.

The act of dyeing an entire city with flags and the act of turning a lord into a flag paradise—both will be respected as long as they don’t harm anyone.

That would be clear.

But is that really the case?

Just because it fits their disposition or doesn’t differ from it, can we truly call it a normal occurrence?

“Hmm. Is there any connection at this time?”

I don’t really know.

The Park Jinseong of this period before the rewind was just a worthless mercenary.

Though mercenaries are generally considered worthless, he was among the most negligible of them.

He had no connections and received treatment just because he was a shaman—a worthless existence that didn’t even earn the derogatory title of a parasitic shaman during that time.

“Freedom. And the flags spread all over the city.”

Freedom, freedom, freedom.

Such a terrifying word.

The freedom they speak of is, quite literally, the acceptance of everything as long as it doesn’t harm themselves.

Like the evil beings from myths.

Thus, what Anastasia saw could easily be called an ‘evil omen.’

The light of a malign star sparkles in the sky, the ground trembles, the sea turns red, and countless fish float dead in the river—this too can be thought of as one of those evil omens.

That’s why Park Jinseong pondered deeply.

He approached with a spear and gazed at the sky, listening to the whispers of the stars.

It was something that could not turn into language.

Something that couldn’t fit into any of the five senses, yet could become something of the five senses whispered to him. The soft light that slowly descended lingered at his ears like a gentle breeze before vanishing, having no beginning and no end, like an unchanging entity across the flow of time—the light was as if it didn’t exist at all.

The whisper said there was no problem at all.

“Haha. Nature learns to move through deception and lies.”

Park Jinseong realized it was trying to deceive him.

He became aware that something was happening in America.

With a smile at the fact he had realized something, he turned his head back toward Anastasia.

“Thanks to you, I’ve come to a good realization. Thank you.”

“Oh! I’m so happy to hear I helped Jinseong!”

Anastasia beamed at Park Jinseong’s words.

No, merely smiling wasn’t enough; she stretched her arms high, shouting with joy.

And perhaps unable to contain her energy, she jumped up and down right over to the bed where Park Jinseong was trying to sleep.

Boing!

And then, naturally, she jumped.

She dove straight onto the bed where Park Jinseong lay.

“Oh…! This is, this is…!”

Thus, Anastasia, snug within the bed, widened her eyes at the sensation of the mattress enveloping her.

“Jinseong! This is truly a magical coziness…! I feel like I’m going to be devoured by the bed…!”

Once she expressed her extravagant praise, she began to slowly close her eyes, succumbing to the embrace of the soft mattress, different from her own bed used earlier. She melted into the softness and started to drift into the world of dreams….

“Ta-da! But that was the trick of the trick master, Asha…!”

However, Anastasia declared that her previous expression was all just a joke and resurrected.

Her eyes wide with surprise, she started to roll around on the bed cheerfully.

Roll, roll, rolling around.

She rolled around as if turned into a caterpillar, wrapping herself up in the blanket as if the spirit of a weekend worker had possessed her. At some point, she hugged a fluffy pillow that seemed to have appeared from nowhere, claiming that this bed was her domain.

Park Jinseong chuckled at the sight of Anastasia.

“Hahaha. Well then, why don’t you rest there?”

He wasn’t flustered.

It was a sight he often witnessed during his mercenary days.

Anastasia back then would often complain about the accommodations: “I don’t like this lodging,” “Feng-shui? It’s not good to sleep near an enemy,” “It feels like there’s a ley line flowing here. Huh? We’re on a ship? That doesn’t matter, I still feel a ley line flowing, so I guess I’ll use this place.” She often put forth rational reasons to forcibly usurp the sleeping arrangements of others.

And Park Jinseong wasn’t exempt from this, often having his sleeping bags or hammocks pilfered. There were even times she crawled into his tent, claiming there weren’t any pillows she liked, and used him as a pillow.

Thinking about it, this current behavior resembles the sprouting aspects of Anastasia’s mercenary tyranny.

“Well then, I’ll sleep well—goodbye!”

Thus, Anastasia, leaving her special bed from her dreams behind, fell asleep on Park Jinseong’s bed. And then, she began exploring the world of dreams once more.

To fulfill Park Jinseong’s request even more perfectly.

Or perhaps for her own enjoyment.

And behind the sleeping Anastasia, Park Jinseong said.

“Haha. Let’s see. It seems there’s a trap, so it’s only right to test it…”

He decided to experiment with his smartphone.

“Let’s see. The flights to America…”

That thought sprang from his instinct.

After realizing there was deception in the whispers of the stars, it was a light-hearted trick he conceived.

Much like an animal moving to check if there’s a trap beneath the bait, it was a very simple ploy.

* * *

“Ha-ha. How interesting.”

Not long after, an answer returned to Park Jinseong.

『 ………Cancellation. 』

Cancellation.

Not Revocation, but Cancellation.

Different from the refusal to enter China for another reason.

The answer indicated that entry was denied due to a procedural issue.

Of course, this wasn’t a big deal.

It could be something as simple as a misspelling of the name, a mistake in the date of birth, requiring some correction—it was basically about needing to cancel something trivial. Just applying again would solve it, an incredibly uncomplicated problem.

Yeah.

Aside from the fact that the response came back suspiciously quickly, it wasn’t really unusual.

“Cancellation, cancellation…”

But Park Jinseong scented something from this seemingly unremarkable matter.

That this mild refusal, much more lenient than the outright denial they faced in China, signaled a long-lasting cancellation.

Cancellation.

Cancellation.

Cancellation.

Due to errors, typographical mistakes, corrections needed, administrative problems, unexpected incidents like strikes, employee negligence, and omissions—

He felt that this ‘cancellation’ would drag on extensively by using any reason that could be thrown into the mix.

It appeared mild.

Yet it was a legal, indefinite delay.

“Haha. Am I being worked against?”

Sabotage.

The scent of the operations Park Jinseong had carried out many times wafted from the email…

He paused for a moment, caught up in his contemplation.

“Was it a coincidence I intended to go to China?”

He began retracing his steps.

When did another’s will interfere, and how did this sabotage come to happen to him?

“What about going to India?”

He thought.

“What about meeting Ashtosh Singh?”

He pondered.

“And gaining clues about immortality from Ashtosh Singh?”

He reflected.

“And then returning to find Anastasia?”

He reached a conclusion.

“Hmm. Ashtosh Singh, America, clues about immortality…”

It was like a puzzle without any picture filled in.

It was just a few scattered pieces.

However, from those pieces alone, he discerned possibilities.

From there, Park Jinseong felt there was a high likelihood that something awaited him in America, and it was easy to surmise that someone or some group in America would not want him to come into contact with that.

Yeah.

That’s why he was being obstructed.

Should he set foot in America, he would draw closer to it.

If he went to America, he might come into contact with that ‘clue.’

And that would not be something some person or group wanted.

Park Jinseong nodded at that realization, then turned his head back to the sky.

And he smiled.

“Haha.”

With a hint of disdain.

 

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