“…”
“…”
A space steeped in silence.
The only thing I could hear was the sound of water drops falling.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The source of the sound was my hand.
Blood kept dripping from the hand that had gripped the sword.
Watching the blood fall, I thought:
Ah, fuck, it hurts like hell.
‘…Why does this hurt so damn much….’
I was keeping a blank face, but it hurt like crazy.
Was it because I’d grabbed it longer, and harder, than last time?
I stole a glance at my palm.
‘…Great.’
I could see bone.
Having been through this before—and remembering how damn slow the regeneration was—it would be the same this time.
The bandage I’d bothered to wrap was already soaked and coming loose.
I didn’t mind. It wasn’t even mine; it was Seol-Young’s, anyway.
Still, I couldn’t just leave it like this…
I was just about to tear some clothing and wrap it when—
Srrrrrrrk.
‘Huh?’
Suddenly I felt something in my left arm. Gwi-jeong.
Gwi-jeong suddenly moved and wrapped my wounded hand like a bandage.
‘…Oh.’
What’s this? Worried I might be in pain?
For a cursed artifact, it had good sense.
Squeeze.
‘Nngh—!’
As…