Chapter 290: Chapter 290

Cha Eun-Hye, the president of South Korea.

“Also known as the puppet president of Korea.”

A dishonorable nickname—but by now, people had grown used to it.

There was a reason behind it. After the Catastrophe, presidents and politicians had their heads lopped off on a regular basis. As often as heads rolled, Korea teetered on the brink. The Symbols of Eternity, after much consultation and coordination, placed the only friend they could trust—Cha Eun-Hye—into the presidential seat.

She had a surprising background.

“She’s also famous as the idol president.”

“Technically, a trainee, I think.”

There was plenty of criticism at the time, but it gradually faded. Not only was she administratively capable, but she was backed by the Symbols of Eternity. On top of that, she had a knack for winning public favor.

“She’s also known as a hands-on president. Unlike previous politicians, she handles most administrative work quietly, without fanfare. Instead of publicity stunts, she personally travels to the provinces for business...”

As a C-rank hunter, she brought plenty of hunters with her to dangerous areas. It helped with job creation. And just because she was on the move didn’t mean she neglected paperwork—citizens liked her for that. A diligent politician always earned trust.

“Most of all, the Symbols of Eternity monitor each other. And she’s someone watched and vouched for by them. There’s zero chance of misconduct, which is why people trust her.”

“I agree. I didn’t think she’d be one of the students you mentioned, Gio.”

“That bold Joseon king...”

“Joseon king? Where did that come from?”

Gio recalled the day he first visited Gyeongbokgung Palace with Yoo Seong-Woon. That day, Gio had been reminiscing about Cha Eun-Hye, the aspiring idol. To think she had become president.

It was far more shocking than any title like "Symbol of Eternity."

“This is unbelievable.”

“No really, where did ‘Joseon king’ come from? Was she royalty in a past life?”

“I wasn’t actually expecting a ‘yes’ to that.”

“There was a student once who wept while looking at Gyeongbokgung, saying, ‘If tears come for no reason, I must have been a king of Joseon in a past life.’ It was nonsense, of course.”

“And that student was our president? Wow, I’m losing it. Should I even know this?”

“South Korea really is stitched together with tape and hope.”

She had always been quick-witted and sharp, but not someone Gio imagined going into politics. If they had to rely on an idol trainee, things must have been truly dire. Gio felt a deep pang of sympathy for his students.

“Have they been eating properly...”

“They seem to eat very well—President Cha Eun-Hye even packs lunch for Hunter Seo Seohee.”

“Clearly, this world must be overturned.”

“I figured you'd say that eventually, so I prepared a contract. Here, Gio, this is a draft for the Earth redevelopment project. It’s not finalized yet, but could you look it over and offer feedback? With that, the guild leader can negotiate with the Collector...”

Gio looked aggrieved.

“Am I not allowed to joke?”

“Oh, that was a joke? Yeah... You really need to moderate those.”

Yoo Seong-Woon laughed as he gently tucked the documents back inside his coat. Gio, despite feeling unfairly accused, found it oddly fascinating. It wasn’t a resignation letter—people really carried contracts like that?

‘Is that how modern office workers do things now?’

Unaware of Gio’s thoughts, Yoo Seong-Woon shrugged.

“What else did you ask me earlier?”

“I asked if there was anyone close to the Symbols of Eternity.”

“Honestly, other than the president, not really. Hunter Seo Seohee is considered sociable, but even she doesn’t really stick with anyone besides her vice guild leader.”

“I didn’t raise her like that.”

“You... sure, let’s say you raised her.”

Yoo Seong-Woon nodded.

“Of the Symbols of Eternity, you’ve probably met Hunter Seo Seohee and Association President Dan Haera. The one you haven’t met is likely Hunter Jeong Hae-Woon, right? You haven’t run into him yet?”

“There wasn’t any reason to seek him out.”

“You’re oddly cold sometimes. Hmm... Hunter Jeong Hae-Woon’s been really busy lately. Honestly, all gardeners are busy these days. Especially Gardener Jeong Hae-Woon—he’s involved in all kinds of places...”

“...You didn’t know?”

Yoo Seong-Woon hadn’t expected Gio to be left in the dark on something so easy to find out. It seemed Gio was overly immersed in pretending to be human—it was interesting, but Yoo Seong-Woon kept it to himself and got back on track.

“Yeah, he’s a gardener. But he’s different from the rest. Maybe because he’s one of the senior-most gardeners on Earth... I guess you could say he’s the type who can... wrestle with a garden.”

“Did you say wrestle?”

So this guy was still out there picking fights?

“Seems like that temper of his didn’t go anywhere.”

“...I don’t think his personality is particularly aggressive though...?”

“Surprising. Maybe he’s just putting on airs with age.”

Come to think of it, Gio once referred to Guild Leader Jeong Hae-Woon as a delinquent. While recalling that, Yoo Seong-Woon gave a small nod.

“Let’s pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Yoo Seong-Woon cleanly erased the conversation from memory.

“Gardener Jeong Hae-Woon was the first Earthling to ever come into contact with the Origin. That alone is extraordinary. Even though he doesn’t have a specific garden assigned to him, he can visit multiple gardens.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“Um... Imagine breaking into someone’s private, unoccupied property and rearranging their garden however you like, then just disappearing. I heard he occasionally gets into spats with the property owners, but given he’s still alive...”

“I don’t know what kind of impression a garden is supposed to give.”

“A really picky landlord.”

Normally, gardeners had to cater to the garden’s temperament. There were many ways to approach a garden, but gardeners were always in a subordinate position. Jeong Hae-Woon was different. He knew how to command them.

“They say even for him, it’s exhausting. Around this time of year, he tends to be really fatigued. I’ve never seen it firsthand, but apparently, he manages not only the mismanaged gardens but also the abandoned ones...”

“So it’s overtime every day.”

“He’s consistent. I’ve even heard he works in his dreams. Given how few gardeners there are compared to the veins of the Origin, he’s one of the main reasons Earth hasn’t collapsed.”

“Are there other reasons?”

“I heard Earth’s system helps shoulder some of the burden. But I don’t know the details. This kind of stuff is filled with information only insiders know... and things people tend to conceal.”

Yoo Seong-Woon shrugged.

“Hunter Jeong Hae-Woon probably knows more about the Origin than anyone else on Earth. Thankfully, he’s very kind to his juniors and often reaches out to them, so if anyone has questions, he’s approachable.”

“He’s kind to his juniors?”

“Hm? Yes, he is. Even I’ve gotten email replies from him a few times...”

“He often reaches out...?”

“Okay, you’re about to hit me with some tragic truth, and I’d prefer you didn’t. I’ll remember him as a kind, competent senior forever. Whatever he was in the past—a delinquent or whatever—he’s a great gardener now.”

“You’re looking at me like I’m pitiful.”

Even as a painting with black paint streaked across the face, that look could be felt.

“Anyway... that’s all I know about people related to the Symbols of Eternity. Including the president. They each have such massive responsibilities, it’s probably why they don’t form deeper relationships with others.”

Yoo Seong-Woon rubbed his neck.

“Or, maybe you could try asking Joo-Hyun?”

“You’ve met the Association President, right?”

“Yeah, and she’s politically savvy, so she might know more than I do.”

“Still, I think you’ve covered all the people I need to know.”

“Close, deep connections are nice too.”

“You seemed worried about that earlier.”

“I understand now—that was the best they could do.”

Anything more would’ve been Gio’s own selfish wish.

“And it's not something I can dare criticize with pity.”

Gio often pitied others, but he never once thought pity was a good thing. Most of the time, pity was just a way of belittling others’ best efforts.

Sure, somewhere in the world, there might be pure, noble pity. But that wasn’t easy. Gio chose instead to be grateful to his students, who had given their all to build the lives they had now.

“They’re probably very tired... but I’m thankful they’ve lived so diligently. They probably wouldn’t like hearing that, but I still want to praise them.”

“You’re a good guardian.”

“Just a temporary one. A conditional one. I’m glad they all became fine adults. Maybe it would’ve been nice if they’d grown up a little less perfect... but they’ve got their own wonderful qualities now.”

They were smart students—sooner or later, they would deduce the truth about Sergio. But that wouldn’t bring their memories back. Gio was grateful for that.

‘I know they’re not the kind to be buried in those /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ memories...’

Sergio knew his place. To his students, he had once been a “reliable teacher,” but he could never be their friend or family. Being seen as a fix-all was a little much—but it hadn’t been dependency.

But now... his students were simply too exhausted.

‘...Even if they remember, I hope they don’t romanticize it too much.’

He wasn’t perfect. Not some amazing person, not an all-knowing god. Just a slightly stiff, slightly awkward person with a few useful skills. He never wanted to be the answer to everything.

Besides, if that “Promise” was as solid as it seemed, they wouldn’t even be able to remember it.

“...Thank you for explaining everything. I’m glad they all get along.”

“If the Symbols of Eternity started fighting, forget this country—the planet would explode. That’d be a bit much.”

“For Earth’s sake, we’d better hope they stay on good terms.”

“I’ve recently been visiting the school where I used to work.”

“Oh, really? Any particular reason?”

“I feel like I’ve forgotten something. I wanted to try remembering.”

“...That’s... kind of terrifying.”

“It’s okay. I think this is my price to pay.”

The “cost” his system-granted stamp continued to cover.

“I still haven’t remembered it, but I’ve figured out what it is and what it means. After thinking it over many times, I don’t think forgetting it poses any danger.”

The forgotten memory was simple. Sergio had probably done his best that day. No regrets, no lingering feelings. Because it was him, Gio could be sure of that—even without recalling it.

So that memory was probably nothing grand. Walking the halls of the school and reimagining the events of that day, everything just felt obvious.

‘The kids probably thought the same.’

That’s why they’d made it to now.

“Even looking back... it wasn’t anything special.”

Yoo Seong-Woon smiled in his usual laid-back way.

“If anything’s about to explode, give me a heads-up first.”

“If something seems like it might, I’ll contact you.”

“Good. I’ll bring you strawberries then. Alright?”

With that warm promise, the two parted ways.

A few days later, Yoo Seong-Woon received a letter.

『Would it be a problem if ghost stories started forming around the abandoned school in Gangwon Province?』

He simply stood there and smiled.

“Myeung mang mang...”

“Don’t eat it. It’s not dead.”

He just hadn’t processed it yet.