As mentioned before, Son Si-woo and Han Ju-hee were completely different, yet at the same time, they were alike.
This time was no different.
Their feelings for their family were identical.
A precious relationship, a treasure they would sacrifice their lives to protect.
However, the way they believed they should protect it was simply different.
Kim Do-jin wished for his family to live peacefully by protecting this world.
Han Ju-hee, on the other hand, wished for her family to be at peace, even if it meant turning the world upside down.
Their desire to protect their family was the same, but their methods were vastly different.
“So this is how we ended up.”
No, that wasn't it.
A difference in methods couldn't be said to have caused this outcome.
It was always like that in their youth.
Even when they were sworn enemies, and later when their relationship deepened to the point they couldn't live without each other, the two of them often showed stark differences in opinion in various situations.
If a difference in methods had been the problem, they would have already split up back then.
But they bridged countless differences and became husband and wife.
Even during their honeymoon, many problems arose due to their persistent differences in opinion, but their bond of affection remained strong.
They loved each other as much as they were different—no, even more than that.
So why, then?
What was different between then and now that they had to drift so far apart?
The answer was not difficult to find.
“We should have talked more.”
The conversations between them that had gradually begun to dwindle were the real culprit.
“Remember? We fought so much when we were young.”
“We did.”
They fought constantly.
It was a fight to understand each other.
Their unique display of affection, where they made the other understand their fiercely expressed true feelings, and were understood in return.
No feelings were ever hurt.
They simply pondered the other's heart, tried to understand, and found a suitable compromise.
That's how they narrowed their differences in opinion.
“It wasn't any different even during our honeymoon. But... we gradually started to become conscious of our surroundings.”
As mentioned before, it was a sacred ritual unique to the two of them.
No matter how fierce, because they understood each other's hearts, their feelings were never hurt.
However, that was a story only for the two of them.
To outsiders, it simply looked like a couple fighting as if they'd never see each other again.
That held them back.
They were S-rank Hunters who commanded the full attention of South Korea, and a mother and father to a daughter so precious she wouldn't hurt even if put in their eye [an idiom for someone extremely beloved].
If they fought at home, they worried about their newborn daughter.
If they fought outside, they were too famous.
Indeed, once they fought outside, rumors of discord erupted, causing an absolute uproar.
“We eventually gave up on our unique way of communicating.”
Han Ju-hee smiled bitterly and lowered her head.
Yes, that was right.
The two of them eventually abandoned their long-standing, unique conversations.
It was a decision they had made together, by mutual agreement.
We can't keep repeating the same thing forever. Now there are people's eyes on us, and it could negatively affect our daughter's upbringing, so let's try to resolve things in a slightly different way.
Until then, they were confident they could do so.
But they were wrong.
If their old habits seemed to resurface even slightly, they would stop themselves mid-sentence.
As a result, they couldn't speak their minds freely as before, and they couldn't fully understand each other.
In that process, their perspectives, deepened by the passage of time, changed moment by moment.
And they couldn't properly understand each other's changed hearts or feelings.
“We shouldn't have done that.”
If they had truly understood each other, instead of changing to fit their surroundings, they should have abandoned their surroundings.
What if people didn't believe them, and rumors of discord spread?
All they had to do was show them, for all to see, that they were living well.
“Even if it meant fighting, you should have stopped me, and I should have stopped you.”
What if they had?
The two of them always, after fierce debates, found a compromise that satisfied both.
Therefore.
“If we had, we wouldn't have ended up like this.”
They would never have become what they were now.
“......”
Han Ju-hee remained silent.
She had nothing to say.
Because every single word he said was true.
Even though he was right in front of her, the distance between them felt vast, and she ached for a moment.
“You and I... neither of us were normal people, were we?”
It wasn't meant in a bad way.
For better or worse.
S-rank Awakened Ones, who transcended human standards, could only barely be understood by stepping outside the bounds of normalcy.
Perhaps that's why there were many unusual individuals among the S-ranks.
It was also one of the reasons Han Ju-hee and Son Si-woo were so highly regarded.
Among those who were all unique, they belonged to the normal category.
At first, he thought that was natural, but it wasn't.
“It was only possible because we had each other. We could take a step back from radical, overly advanced opinions and bring them back into the realm of normalcy, which is why we've lived without major incident until now.”
“Indeed.”
Kim Do-jin also acknowledged this.
His current self was sometimes impulsive, radical, and greedy.
Was it because he had accepted the Goddess of Greed?
Was it because Avaritia was coiled within his body, its maw wide open?
No.
While their influence couldn't be denied, they were merely minor factors.
Why would they, among so many candidates, cling to Kim Do-jin?
Because he was originally that kind of person.
He was inherently greedy, impulsive, and radical as a human, which is why they met.
That such a person could be called a National Hunter, a hero, was entirely thanks to the existence of her and their daughter.
Because they held his mind firmly, and admonished him from acting recklessly.
Han Ju-hee, who had struggled to lift her head, turned her gaze to Kim Do-jin.
Now that she realized it, she felt it clearly.
Her husband, whom she had loved her entire life.
Though his outward appearance was distinctly different, that fact alone remained unchanged.
That's why she regretted it even more.
‘If only I had realized a little sooner.’
If she had immediately recognized him, who was trying to approach her despite the immense burden.
Even though it was already very late, couldn't they have met a different 'now'?
Unable to shake off the sticky regret clinging to her, she asked in a cracked voice.
“We... can't go back to how things were, can we?”
She didn't want to ask.
Because the answer was obvious.
Even knowing that, she wanted to say it just once.
If there was even a 0.1... no, a 0.00001% chance to change his mind.
Kim Do-jin glimpsed her desperation.
“Ever since I started living in this body, I've always felt angry when I saw you.”
She had changed, and yet she hadn't.
She still loved her husband.
However, she tried to help him in the way he hated most.
She feared a future of loss.
Even if it meant being hated, she sought to protect them through control.
That's why he was angry.
Even if their methods differed, he understood that their love for family was the same.
Because he kept imagining a future that could have been vastly different with just a little effort, a future that would never come.
Because he loved her enough to make foolish choices, yet had neglected her for so long, which felt outrageous.
“I wanted revenge. I wanted to see you suffer in any way possible.”
All his affection had been replaced by hatred, igniting an unquenchable flame in his chest.
Whether it was mocking her by showing himself with many women.
Or showing her he was doing even better than before.
Or seducing her, then revealing his true identity and cruelly dumping her.
He mobilized all his imagination to envision her downfall, and wished for that vision to become reality.
But as time passed, the love-hate in his heart gradually lost its power and faded away.
It was because he had no time to spare.
As if to compensate for the unloved past, he was too busy receiving and returning love to others, so the love-hate lost its place.
Even before coming here, it was an emotion that had already lost much of its foothold.
It finally reached its peak as he spoke frankly with her one last time.
“Your choice, too... I can understand it in the realm of emotion, if not reason.”
With cold reason, he still couldn't understand.
But he fully read the emotions contained within it.
“You must have been pushed to that extent.”
The thought of protecting her husband, and the future of her family, must have filled her mind.
She had to resolve it somehow, but with no other options, she must have retreated step by step from her inflated worries, until she was finally driven to the edge of a cliff.
In desperate situations, emotions naturally take precedence over rational judgment, so the future Chris Emir presented must have seemed quite ideal to her.
“And I'm the one who pushed you to that extent.”
His body was past its prime.
Moreover, in resolving the crisis that befell Seoul, his already limited time became even shorter.
Yet, regardless of that situation, the number of times he entered dungeons increased even further.
He, too, had been pushed to the brink.
He believed he had to eliminate at least one more [dungeon/threat] before his body could no longer function.
Only then, he thought, could the peace of the people, and his family, continue.
That, too, was a foolish choice.
No matter how much he tried alone, he couldn't shoulder even a small country, let alone the entire world.
If he had let go of his stubbornness and at least pretended to follow her dissuasion.
In the place where hatred had receded, the raw traces of his own mistakes were revealed.
Seeing this, he finally found the answer to the question he used to ponder alone while eating and drinking, ‘What did I do so wrong?’
“My fault is also significant in how we ended up like this.”
Just as it takes two hands to clap [an idiom for needing cooperation], their relationship, too, was not solely one person's fault.
The answer, found too late, could change nothing now.
“We can't go back to how things were.”
They had come too far for that.
“To go back, there are too many people supporting the current me.”
Many lovers, for his sake, had even given up the deep affection shared with just one person and stayed by his side.
To his current self, they were the most important.
So he put an end to it.
“So this is where our relationship ends.”
As he resolved to let go, the tangled threads in his chest began to unravel one by one.
“Ju-hee.”
“…Si-woo.”
Their names, spoken to each other after so long, intertwined intensely in the air, then vanished.
Kim Do-jin smiled and offered her his heartfelt gratitude.
“Though the end was a little regrettable... the time I spent with you was the happiest time in my entire life.”
He had to admit what needed to be admitted.
The time he spent with her was the happiest time in his life.
It was that long, deep, and special.
Because every 'first' in his life was marked by her.
“Now, put down the heavy burden in your heart and be happy.”
Even at the moment of his death, to her, who would be the first to come to mind, he sincerely wished for her happiness.
“The country is so small, we'll probably see each other again many times. Next time, let's meet with smiles on our faces.”
Though by then, they would no longer be anything to each other.
With those words, Kim Do-jin departed.
Han Ju-hee sat blankly, watching his retreating back as he walked away.
His words came back to her.
“You said... you wanted revenge.”
Unintentionally, he had delivered the cruelest, most despairing revenge to her.
Because this very moment was the worst possible outcome she had least desired.
She asked into the empty air.
“How can I possibly be happy without you?”
The hollow question, with no one to answer it, scattered and vanished.