Chapter 300: The Destination of This Feeling is You

“Even if the good people around her told her over and over that she was human, that she bore the mark of a Godseeker, that she should just live well in this world…”

“When she closed her eyes, she saw the ground covered in blood and the dagger aimed at her throat.”

“Thinking of that scene, she would tremble uncontrollably, fearing death like an instinct.”

Shuna looked at the dark corners of the room. She remembered the orphanage in Porol, those nights after being adopted, closing her eyes, trembling in the nightmare of the impulse to kill herself from birth.

“But this was precisely the thing ingrained in her instinct…”

“Even while fearing it, while questioning it, like a curse nailed into her brain, it pushed her to create ‘dungeon death’ and ‘her own death’…”

Shuna remembered, even when she was taken to the school that taught dungeon exploration, she couldn’t learn anything. Because she couldn’t “understand” the bright “life” of a campus. The further she was from the dungeon, the more anxious she became. The more she feared the first memory that stabbed at her, the more she believed it was her destined end.

Though rare in this world, it was like… a “divine symphony” resonating in her soul, controlling and tormenting a girl born as a blank slate, hinting that her life’s purpose was to pursue death in the dungeon. She was fixated on opening the grey-black door to the dungeon. Walking down, floor by floor. The further she went, the closer she got to… death.

“Thinking back on the reason, perhaps it was simply because… that girl was born in a dungeon, perhaps… a ‘monster’ of the dungeon—at least by definition, yet… bearing the ‘blessing’ granted by Goddess Rievaulx.”

“A Divine Condensers, a life dedicated to the dungeon.”

“Yes. This blessing… compelled me to tear, destroy, and kill everything in the dungeon.”

“Including… herself.”

“So it became a curse that made me unable to understand the meaning of life and survival, only… like that first memory…”

Shuna’s words trailed off, but Will finished for her: “Dungeon death is the only thing she can understand.”

“Yes, exactly. As expected, Will, you’re the one who understands me best. You can describe it word for word.”

Will didn’t reply. Of course, it was word for word. He had seen this exact internal monologue in Shu’s memories over and over in his past life—though now he understood, the entire story of what happened to Shuna was like a bug.

It made Shuna, from birth, into a string of code running incorrectly, ultimately heading towards self-destruction. Though in a sense, this was the fate of a “protagonist”—bearing both enemy and allied bloodlines, contradictory yet unified, appearing as the “key” to solving the world’s biggest contradictions and problems.

“She must have been terrifying back then. A baby knows nothing, but she was crazily, pathologically fixated on death.”

Hearing this, Will felt… as if he had misunderstood something. He stole a glance at Shuna from below. She was remarkably calm as she described a mindset no normal person would have. In Shu’s story, he hadn’t felt this way. After all, Shu was more like a “monster.” But hearing Shuna say these words herself… Will realized he was wrong.

The seemingly most normal, most calm, and mentally stable Shuna… was the one who had been fundamentally broken from the start. Regarding death and life, the outside world and the dungeon, she had a different understanding than anyone else.

Perhaps… she was… Someone who could easily turn “dark” in mind and body. Because for her, killing another or killing herself was never difficult. Back then, she was probably terrifyingly dark.

But now, she seemed different—optimistic, cheerful, and vibrant. As for why… He knew the “future” of this story. It wasn’t hard to guess. It probably had something to do with his unintentional actions.

“Then… that girl ran away from school, heading to the Adventurer’s Guild both ‘confused’ and ‘purposeful’ to enter the dungeon…”

“At that age, even if she had some strength, it would be hard to get into a dungeon, right?”

“Yes. But she was smart. She figured out a way to trick the adults—say it was a mandatory assignment or research topic.” Shuna looked at the candlelight beside her, then at Will across the flame, giving a slightly relieved smile. She thought he hadn’t seen it. Otherwise, this smile, which she wore while writing him letters afterward, would tarnish his impression of her as cool, capable, and strong.

“So, what kind of topic was most suitable? She saw a request that had been circulating, about a basic topic covered in the very first lessons.”

“So she took on that problem—honestly, she didn’t care at the time, but thinking back now, it was a really interesting question.”

“How to resist 200-degree Celsius steam with Ice Armor Enchantment? Something like that, right?”

“Only thirteen years old, she entered the dungeon. She was really clumsy back then, only knowing innate close combat and basic Ice Armor Enchantment. Of course, the enemy wasn’t much either, a rather weak-looking Swelling Lava Monster. Hmm… a battle between weaklings?”

Just two minutes ago, she had been very “angry.” When she started telling this story, she was a little “down.” But as she recounted this part, she became full of happiness. This was something she had waited a long, long time to talk about—sharing this experience only she had gone through. The answer she had calmly written in the letter was precisely the blessing in the entire event.

“That battle wasn’t interesting at all, insignificant compared to later, more exciting battles.”

Shuna tried to recall the specific details of this first battle of her life, to describe it with flowery words, but she found these memories and fragments were too blurry.

Right.

With only “giving death” and “seeking death” in her mind, not to mention the battle, it was hard to retain anything else in her memory.

“But… the girl discovered…”

Shuna looked at her arm. On her right arm, there was a faint scar, almost invisible now. She remembered it was a burn.

“She was injured. A burn, not severe, but not fatal either. She could feel the pain, but it was bearable.”

“Seeing the wound, she thought… Could such a burn not kill her? But… her attack did kill the lava monster. Vanished. Perhaps that wasn’t enough? So she headed towards the next ten floors…”

“But like a flash of lightning, looking at her arm, she realized…”

“The burn wasn’t uniform. The steam covered everything, but some skin wasn’t burned. Meaning, the answer to that question created a solution here.”

“…”

She waited for Will’s reaction. Although she used “a certain girl’s” perspective, she knew he was smart enough to realize it was a “I have a friend” story, and she was talking about herself the whole time.

Will didn’t speak, listening intently, but didn’t rush her. A narrator telling a story from the heart, and a listener hearing it from the heart, waiting for the continuation they both knew.

“She intended to continue in the dungeon, but that letter made her see another possibility in this world. She felt she should write back, should research books—the books her teacher gave her must have relevant information.”

“She studied her wound, researched everything, even returned to the lava monster’s dungeon many times.”

“Then… racking her brain, using the most serious letter-writing style, she wrote that letter.”

“It was strange. At least… in the time she spent trying to figure out how Ice Armor Enchantment blocked steam burns, her mind… contained more than just ‘death’.”

It was years ago, but Shuna remembered that first letter. She wrote it carefully, word by word, using the politest language she had learned, but her heart felt like sharing a huge discovery with a very, very good friend.

What kind of person was he? What would he think when he received the letter? Why would he ask that question? Would he reply, thanking her for the answer?

—These questions were answered one by one in the following days. For her back then, they were unexpectedly fresh sources of anticipation.

“Although it was just that letter, it was like… a lifeline. As long as she held on, she wouldn’t sink.”

“Of course, a single straw breaks, but…”

“The one who asked the question didn’t stop. He asked problem after problem, strange questions that required both knowledge and practice, right?”

“Yes!” Shuna nodded, smiling. “Without those follow-ups, I think she might have eventually sunk into the mire of wishing for death. But now, it’s different. Someone expanded that blank page of death, suddenly filling it with so much content.”

“Honestly, even now, she can’t analyze how she escaped being pinned down by death like she analyzed how to avoid steam burns. How she could freely explore dungeons, how she could live so healthily…”

“She just numbly yearned for his letters, one after another; she just mechanically completed the tasks he gave her, one by one; she just repeatedly answered the questions he posed, one by one…”

“Even though they were all about dungeon adventures, he always found unique angles, questions without obvious answers. Even the parts about monsters and plants made her feel like she was rediscovering this world. And the life he described in this world, whether it was school or daily routines, was fascinating.”

“His letters were full of praise—for the things she did well, for the items she finally acquired, and for the beautiful, perfect answers she gave.”

How could she recall the fleeting four years of memory? Shuna could only remember thick envelopes. She kept every letter Will sent in a box, stored at the Adventurer’s Guild’s deposit point. Her memory was good, but she couldn’t remember every question and answer. Yet, once she entered a dungeon, every question she had answered became part of her experience.

“When she snapped back to reality, she found that when she closed her eyes, the nightmare was still there, but she no longer feared death.”

“This wasn’t a sudden change, not an erasure of the command etched deep in her soul, but…”

“Through this reliance on every letter and every dungeon expedition, she finally understood the meaning of ‘survival’.”

“—Perhaps one day, I will be buried in the depths of a dungeon like every Condenser, but every floor I’ve walked, every detail I’ve learned, every place I’ve seen, is the meaning of my survival.”

That lifeline ultimately saved her, becoming the thread tied to her pinky, a thread she couldn’t let go of.

“She thought, for the rest of her life, she would find the person who wrote those letters, whether by inviting him, asking him, or even kidnapping him, this path of survival he pointed out to her, they would walk it together.”

“The story stops here.”

“…”

Will remained silent. Shuna turned slightly. Having finished telling the story in the third person, she seemed to step out of the narrative, standing before Will again.

“That girl is me.”

“I know.”

“The one who wrote the letters is you.”

“I know.”

“The destination of this feeling is you.”

“I… know.”

Shuna frowned. She was annoyed. That was a perfunctory, low, numb response. And that attitude of just giving up and wanting to lie there. She grabbed Will by his collar, lifting him effortlessly with one hand, just like before.

“Huuu…” She took a deep breath.

“I just want to team up with you for adventures. Do I have to spell it out—You’re the one who made me understand living, who taught me the meaning of survival, who is the meaning of my survival!”

“I like the ‘you’ who keeps moving forward no matter what.”

“I like the ‘you’ who keeps solving problems even when you know them.”

“I like the ‘you’ who keeps trusting me and enjoying dungeons with me!”

“Stick to your own ideas. When there’s a problem, solve it. If you don’t like their love, fight back.”

“Instead of being passive, actively change this world, change your own destiny—”

“Even knowing a future where you die, you still… still wrote all those plans instead of just giving in…”

“You’ve always been that person. Snap out of it—they treat you like this, you should fight back! Do you think they or I would like a ‘you’ who just gives up his personality and waits to be cut up?”

In the narrow cellar, Shuna, having finished her blatant “confession,” waited for Will’s reply.

His hand covered hers on his collar. Then, using that leverage, he leaned closer, lifting Shuna’s chin.

And kissed her lips.