Hey everyone,
I just wanted to say sorry in advance because I'm going to be gone for about four weeks. I know the timing isn't great, especially with where the story is right now, and I really didn't want to stop here.
This isn't me dropping the story or losing motivation — I just won't be able to write properly while I'm away, and I don't want to rush chapters and ruin them. I care too much about this story (and these characters) for that. I will only be able to write 1 ch a week..
Thank you for sticking around and being patient with me. It honestly means more than you know. I'll be back as soon as I can and I'll continue right where we left off.
I left a small side story as a bit of compensation while I'm gone. I hope you enjoy it.
See you soon,
— Author (aka HualianBL if u didn't know already...)
BONUS CHAPTER — Inventory Management Is a Battlefield
The world wasn't ending.
Which, in our line of work, was suspicious.
Do-hyun sat on a broken pillar sharpening a blade he didn't technically need anymore, because of course he did. His posture was straight, expression unreadable, eyes scanning the ruins like they might personally offend him.
I, on the other hand, was knee-deep in our shared inventory.
"Why," I muttered, "do we have seven identical cloaks."
Do-hyun didn't look up. "We picked them up."
"Yes," I said slowly, "but why did we pick them up."
"Resources."
"They're all the same color."
"So?"
"So we look like a badly coordinated cult."
The blade made a clean shhk sound as he finished sharpening. He inspected the edge, satisfied.
"A cult would have symbols," he said. "We don't."
I stared at him.
"…That's your defense?"
He finally glanced at me. "Is there a problem?"
"Yes," I said. "If someone attacks us, they won't know which one to aim for."
"That's the point."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "You're impossible."
He shrugged—shrugged—and went back to his weapon.
I sighed and continued sorting.
"Okay. Three healing items. One emergency teleport shard. Two cursed relics that definitely whisper at night—"
"They don't whisper," Do-hyun said flatly.
"They absolutely whisper."
"They hum."
"That is worse."
I pulled out a small, cracked orb that pulsed faintly blue.
"What's this one again?"
Do-hyun froze.
Just for a fraction of a second.
"That," he said carefully, "is not for touching."
I immediately held it higher. "Why not?"
"Because last time you touched something 'interesting,' we nearly broke reality."
"That was one time."
"That was three times."
I pouted. "You're exaggerating."
"Jiho," he said, finally turning fully toward me, eyes sharp, "give me the orb."
I squinted at it. "It's warm."
"Jiho."
"It's humming."
"Jiho."
"It's—"
The orb popped.
Not exploded.Popped.
Like a soap bubble.
We both stared at the empty space in my hand.
Silence.
Then—
A tiny illusion flickered into existence above my palm.
It was… Do-hyun.
Miniature. Chibi-like. Arms crossed. Scowling.
The illusion spoke in a high, annoyed voice:
"Stop touching things."
I choked.
Do-hyun stared.
The illusion turned its head and glared directly at the real Do-hyun.
"…I look ridiculous."
I collapsed laughing.
"I— I'm sorry—" I wheezed, "but why is it that accurate?"
Do-hyun's eye twitched.
The illusion continued, pacing in the air."Maintain distance. Watch your surroundings. Do not trust unexplained artifacts."
"Oh my god," I gasped. "It even lectures."
Do-hyun stood up.
Slowly.
"Turn it off."
"I don't know how!"
The illusion pointed at me. "This is why you're a liability."
I laughed harder.
Do-hyun reached out and grabbed the illusion.
It vanished instantly.
Silence returned.
Do-hyun exhaled once, deeply.
"…We are never touching mystery items again."
I wiped my eyes. "Worth it."
He shot me a look. "You almost summoned a pocket version of me."
"Correction," I said. "I successfully summoned a pocket version of you."
He stared.
Then turned away.
But not before I caught it—
The faintest curve at the corner of his mouth.
I grinned.
"See?" I said. "You're not always cold."
"I am always cold," he replied.
Then, after a pause—
"…But that was unnecessary."
I smiled wider.
The world could wait a little longer.