The escape from Seoul was a chaotic and desperate flight from a devastating nightmare. Kim Seyn, physically and emotionally wounded, found himself clinging to survival, a solitary figure amidst the city's agonizing collapse. The catastrophe, a maelstrom of destruction and death, was ultimately quelled by the intervention of Kim Ji-Soo, an S-Rank Hunter, a figure of almost mythical power and renown. However, for Kim Seyn, this victory felt hollow, a pyrrhic triumph overshadowed by an immeasurable and profound loss.
Aubrey's funeral served as a stark and brutal reminder of his failure. He remained at the periphery of the gathering, a solitary figure cloaked in the anonymity of dark clothing, attempting to avoid the judgmental and sorrowful gazes of those present. His efforts at concealment, however, proved futile; his presence was readily apparent, a beacon of grief amidst a sea of sorrow.
Whispers rippled through the mourners, a current of condemnation and criticism. "Is that him?" one whispered. "Yes, Aubrey's boyfriend. I understand he is a Hunter, yet he failed to protect her. How regrettable." These words, sharp and cutting, pierced his heart like shards of ice, each syllable a fresh wound inflicted upon his already deeply wounded spirit.
Aubrey's parents, Yoo Yeonhee and Yung Ga Min, their faces etched with a grief that mirrored, yet vastly surpassed, his own, approached him. Their eyes burned with a mixture of sorrow and righteous anger. The air was thick with unspoken accusations, the weight of a broken promise, and the crushing burden of an irretrievable loss.
Yung Ga Min, Aubrey's father, his voice thick with unshed tears and barely controlled rage, addressed Kim Seyn directly. "You have the audacity to present yourself here, after your failure to protect our daughter?"
Yoo Yeonhee, Aubrey's mother, her voice a trembling whisper, her head resting upon her husband's shoulder, added her own anguished lament. "Why did you not protect her?"
Kim Seyn's voice, strained with emotion, faltered under the weight of his grief and guilt. "I endeavored to do so! My abilities were insufficient, I acknowledge that, but I implore you to understand that I did not fail to make every attempt to protect her." His words, though a desperate plea for understanding, felt inadequate, a feeble attempt to mitigate the justifiable anger directed at him.
Despair washed over him, a wave of sorrow threatening to consume him entirely. He felt the crushing weight of his inadequacy, the agonizing burden of his failure. He looked at them, at the parents who had lost their only child, and a confession of profound remorse escaped his lips. "At times, I have wished that it had been I who perished instead of she."
The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken grief. He perceived a flicker of understanding in their eyes, a shared recognition of the unbearable pain that bound them together. Yet, this understanding did not diminish his pain, nor did it lessen the crushing weight of his guilt.
Yung Ga Min's voice, though quieter, still carried a note of profound sorrow. "It was exceedingly difficult for us as well, you must comprehend. She was the center of our lives…"
The finality of Yoo Yeonhee's response cut through the heavy silence. "And now, she is deceased."
Kim Seyn withdrew, escaping the suffocating weight of their grief and his own self-reproach. He made his way to his vehicle, the journey a blur of guilt, sorrow, and a profound sense of failure. He entered his new apartment, a stark and empty space offering no solace, only the echoing silence of his despair.
Alone in the darkness, he wept uncontrollably, his tears a torrent of grief until his eyes were dry and burning. In a fit of rage and despair, he struck out, shattering the table against which he lashed out, the sound a pathetic reflection of his shattered world.
He whispered, his voice barely audible, "I wish I had possessed greater strength then; perhaps… perhaps I could have saved Aubrey."
The darkness of his apartment was suddenly illuminated by the cold, clinical glow of a system notification. The words, stark and unwavering, offered a glimmer of hope in the bleak landscape of his despair.
[Installation: 50%]
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips, a fragile expression of hope amidst his overwhelming grief. He murmured, his voice a mere breath, "Perhaps… this 'System' may prove beneficial." The words held a hint of desperation, a desperate grasp at possibility, a chance for redemption, a chance to undo the irreparable damage inflicted upon his life.