Surviving Restructuring

Chapter 125. A Night Stroll (4)

Twang—! Twang—!

[You have activated a shield as a temporary performer.]

[You have zero remaining performance counts.]

A clear, ringing sound shot into the night sky as Eun-Ho unfolded the precious barrier. It blocked the icy blast of wind slashing in from every direction.

[All performance counts have been exhausted.]

So I guess that’s it. It used to be a charm, Eun-Ho thought.

It was the Jikokuten’s Pipa, a divine instrument he had received from Bo-Ra. He remembered how it had all begun.

[You have acquired the qualification of a temporary performer!]

[You have three remaining performance counts.]

The instrument had saved his life more than once in desperate moments. Now, it was nothing more than a cursed relic that drained his stamina—a ghostly object that fed on its master.

Clicking his tongue in disappointment, Eun-Ho was about to stow it away when a deep, resonant voice suddenly echoed through the air. “Answer me, child. Have you passed the trial of the pipa?”

The trial of pipa?

He had never heard of such a thing, let alone taken or passed it.

“It responded to Sky Breaker,” Eun-Ho replied vaguely. “They say that’s quite an extraordinary feat, or so I’ve been told.”

He neither confirmed nor denied anything. There was no reason to reveal his cards to an unknown being.

“Hmmm?” The low voice rose slightly at the end, with a hint of curiosity there. Whoever it was, they seemed intrigued. “Now that I think of it... Yes, that’s the kind of achievement the old one would have admired.”

A low sigh followed, as if the speaker were murmuring to himself, “There’s a familiar energy about you. Have you crossed the river?”

“If the river you’re referring to is the Three Crossings River, then yes,” Eun-Ho answered.

“Ha...”

The rumbling sigh that followed seemed to peel through his skin and bones. Instinctively, Eun-Ho straightened his posture. The voice had mentioned earlier that it had granted permission to the defense protocol. Given that the flying blades had halted the moment it spoke, that much seemed true.

Who is this? Where is this person speaking from? And what’s their intention? The owner of the Pipa, perhaps? Eun-Ho thought.

The exchange had been brief, but it carried far too much meaning. Questions flooded his mind, none of which had answers.

“Hmm... Neither flesh nor spirit is tainted. That’s quite impressive... Everything is so clean. And... Oh? You even sent those poor Gakis back?”

Poor Gakis? Eun-Ho thought grimly.

Anyone who’d seen those wretched things devour human flesh would never call them poor.

“Well, they did cling far too long to the rotting ends of their lives. I should’ve let them dissolve long ago... It seems age only makes one softhearted.” There was a trace of sorrow in the man’s tone. “You’ve shouldered my karma in my stead.”

A pause followed, more like a silence that lingered like a held breath.

“It feels improper to ask this of one who’s done me such a favor... But would you entrust that Pipa to me? I promise the reward will not disappoint.”

That was an unexpected proposal.

“This Pipa, you mean?” Eun-Ho asked.

“That’s an old friend’s belonging. I thought it was destroyed long ago, but seeing it so intact again, I can’t help but wish to keep it close.”

So that’s it. He wants to trade me a reward for this all used-up Pipa.

Things were taking an odd turn. The instrument had been reduced into a stamina-draining parasite, yet this powerful being still offered a reward worth the effort. There was no reason to refuse.

“Of course, it’s yours by right. I won’t take it by force. Still, that is my humblerequest—”

“Take it,” Eun-Ho interrupted calmly. “It’s yours.”

Why hesitate? It’s like exchanging an empty bottle for a full one, Eun-Ho thought.

“Eh? You mean it?”

“You said it’s a precious item. Returning it to its rightful owner only makes sense,” he said lightly. “Though, I admit, I’ll have to figure out how to survive this wretched world without it...”

He paused briefly, then said in a steady and deliberate tone, “But I trust you’ll see to it that I’m not left helpless.”

“To think you’d show such understanding for an old fool like me... You’re a rare one indeed. Very well! You deserve a gift befitting your spirit,” the speaker grew lively, muttering quickly as though to itself. “If the company learns of this, I’ll be scolded for sure, but as long as you keep quiet, there shouldn’t be any trouble.”

Then, after a brief stillness, lightning tore across the pitch-black sky. Eun-Ho snapped his head up, his vision flooded with blinding light.

Fwoosh—!

Fwaaaash—!

The light was so bright it burned into his retinas. A single streak of lightning was racing toward him, growing larger by the second.

Pzzzz—!

It twisted and lengthened, its movements smooth and sinuous. Horns glinted atop its head and then, before his eyes, the lightning became a dragon.

Eyes wide, Eun-Ho barely had time to register what he was seeing before the radiant creature surged forward. “W-what is that?! A-a dragon?!”

The Light Dragon rushed straight toward him and plunged into his eyes. Then, just as swiftly, it passed through.

Fwoooosh!

It felt as though his eyeballs were burning from within. Even when he closed his eyelids, the searing heat didn’t fade. Writhing in pain, he could only gasp for air as the sensation consumed him.

[Congratulations!]

[You have acquired the Third Eye(Lv. -)!]

A metallic chime echoed in his ears.

[Jikokuten’s Pipa has been successfully transferred.]

His hands were suddenly empty.

[Would you like to check the skill’s effect?]

“Yes,” Eun-Ho managed to say through clenched teeth.

Still trembling from the pain, Eun-Ho forced himself to read the message floating before his eyes.

[The Third Eye(Lv. -)]

- Allows the user to see another’s abilities.

- However, it cannot be used more than once on the same target.

His expression slowly relaxed.

Wow, this is incredible.

“... Ah, such a nostalgic item. Thank you, child.”

Eun-Ho almost laughed.

No, if anything, I should be thanking him.

The old man’s voice trembled faintly with emotion. “How is it? That gift should help you fend off at least some of the dangers to come.”

“It will,” Eun-Ho said, nodding. “Without a doubt.”

If he could see an enemy’s abilities before battle, he could devise countermeasures in advance. That was an immense advantage, the very embodiment of know your enemy and you’ll never lose. Without realizing it, he found himself bowing his head slightly.

“I’ll make good use of it,” he said sincerely. “Thank you.”

He dipped his head once more in gratitude and was just about to turn away when the old man asked, “Now that I think of it, quite a few people are depending on you, aren’t they?”

“There are,” Eun-Ho admitted. “Many who’ve come back from the brink.”

“Hmm. In that case... Very well. Think of this as my final gift to you.”

The unseen man laughed richly and heartily, like thunder echoing in the heavens.

***

“His name was Lee Eun-Ho, right? The representative from Korea?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“Who in the world is he talking to?”

Saito shook his head. “No idea.”

Ever since Eun-Ho had mentioned something about a trial of the Pipa, no one else had heard a single word of his supposed conversation.

“It’s creepy,” one of them muttered. “He’s moving his lips, but there’s no sound at all.”

“Wait, what if it’s... You know.”

“You mean, a ghost?”

“Exactly! Remember those Gaki? We didn’t even know they were there until he attacked them.”

Jun and Sakamoto’s exchange made Saito nod reluctantly in agreement.

Fwoosh—!

“Thank you.”

“Huh? Oh, no problem,” replied the Korean schoolgirl beside him. “I didn’t really do anything,” she said with a shy grin. “I was just supporting him from the back. You should be thanking him, not me.”

“Him? You mean Mr. Lee Eun-Ho?”

The girl’s eyes sparkled with pride. “Of course. You saw it too, right? He handled almost everything on his own.”

Her tone carried genuine trust, the kind forged through hardship. Saito could sense it immediately, even without knowing their history.

“What kind of person is Lee Eun-Ho?” he asked.

The girl paused, considering for a moment before answering, “Someone you can entrust everything to.”

“... Everything?”

“Yeah. If you gave him your entire fortune,” she said with a confident smile, “he’d probably double it before giving it back.”

Saito was speechless. To trust someone that completely was beyond loyalty. For a moment, he felt the sting of comparison.

So that’s a real leader, he thought bitterly. Not just one in name, like me.

As he watched Eun-Ho’s back in the distance, his curiosity only deepened.

Fwoosh—!

The air shifted with heavy stillness breaking apart like a bubble.

“Thank you,” Eun-Ho’s voice rang out clearly at last.

Then the ground trembled beneath them.

“W-what was that? An earthquake?!”

“No, something’s coming up from the ground!”

The world itself seemed to split open, heaven and earth were turning over.

Babababam—!

The ground rumbled violently as something massive began to rise. When the dust cleared, what appeared was a new lodging—an opulent palace in U shape, glowing with ancient grandeur.

“Eun-Ho! What is that?!”

“Oh, that? That’s our new lodging,” Eun-Ho said casually.

The woman who’d been following him everywhere stared, eyes wide. “... What?”

The rest of the Korean survivors were no different.

“It’s a mansion! Wow... This place is way better than the one we had yesterday!”

“There are so many rooms, too!”

“Wait, does this mean we won’t have to sleep on a rocking boat anymore?!”

The Koreans erupted in cheers. No matter the age or gender, no one in their right mind would refuse a warm bed after everything they’d endured.

The Japanese survivors murmured quietly among themselves, while several Westerners, likely survivors from other districts, stared longingly at the radiant new palace, unable to tear their eyes away.

“Wow... That’s the Korean base?”

“That looks incredible...”

“Should we, uh... dig holes for our own shelter or something?”

Thud! Thunk!

Someone from the Japanese group had already pulled out a shovel and begun leveling the ground.

Just then, Eun-Ho—who had strength, command, and now, a literal palace at his back—approached. “You’re Saito, right?”

Saito froze.

He knows my name?

“Yes... That’s right.”

Was this the moment he’d demand repayment for saving them? Saito swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay composed.

“Seven hundred twelve. That’s how many Japanese survivors you have, correct?” Eun-Ho asked.

Saito blinked in disbelief. “... What?”

Even he, the official representative of the Japanese team, didn’t yet know the exact number. They’d been too scattered and overwhelmed to count properly. However, this man was already quoting precise figures. Not too long ago, he had just finished a battle and conversed with some unknown, celestial being.

Did he somehow tally them mid-fight? That’s impossible.

Maintaining such battlefield focus while gathering intel like that was beyond reason for Saito. And he was a government-trained operative, bred in a secret special forces division.

However, Eun-Ho didn’t wait for an answer.

“Use the northern wing,” he said, jerking his chin toward one of the palace’s buildings. His tone was calm, almost indifferent, as if he hadn’t just risked his life minutes earlier. “The remaining three sections should be enough for the others. You don’t have that many people.”

It wasn’t just mercy, but generosity. He had saved their lives and was now offering them shelter. Saito could hardly believe it. Surely there was a catch, a debt, or a hidden condition.

Stay sharp, Saito reminded himself, and asked, “... Why?”

Eun-Ho blinked. “Why what?”

“Why are you saving us? And why give us rooms?”

Eun-Ho shrugged lightly. “You were breathing, so I saved you. The rooms are free, so I’m sharing them. Do I need a better reason?”

At that moment, Saito understood the difference between them. He thought of the man’s scale. Eun-Ho’s composure and confidence came not from arrogance, but overwhelming strength. His kind was fit to lead, unlike someone like Saito, who was only good for cutting down enemies. Even in a world gone mad, a dog of the system didn’t suddenly become a true leader.

“I’m leaving,” Eun-Ho said, turning away.

“Wait,” Saito called, stepping forward to block his path.

“You still have something to say?”

Saito exhaled once, then said from the gut, “When this training is over... I’ll become your blade.”

It was a vow or a declaration of loyalty from one warrior to another.

“I may be weaker than you,” he continued, “but my skills could still be useful. In exchange, teach me how to grow stronger. Will you accept that?”

Eun-Ho gave a short, incredulous laugh. “And what about the Japanese survivors?”

“... I’m not fit to lead them,” Saito said quietly. “I watched my comrades die and couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.”

His voice trembled with bitter regret.

Eun-Ho’s reply came low, almost reluctant. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

It was a simple answer, perhaps even a gentle one, but exactly the kind of answer Saito had expected.

“... I know I’m lacking,” Saito admitted quietly. “But if I keep training and keep pushing myself, I can become strong enough to be of use—”

“No,” Eun-Ho interrupted flatly. “That’s not what I meant.”

He jerked his chin toward the distance, where the Japanese survivors stood watching them anxiously.

“They’re all looking at you.”

“... What?”

“Doesn’t matter if you think you’re weak. To them, you’re the strongest, most reliable person left.”

Saito froze. The words hit harder than any reprimand.

Eun-Ho went on, voice steady but not unkind. “And besides, how am I supposed to trust a man who abandons his own people?”

“T-that’s...” Saito’s voice trailed off.

He couldn’t find an answer for Eun-Ho, or for the weary faces staring at him from afar. He’d left them behind when they needed him most.

“... You’re right,” he said finally, his voice low. “I wasn’t thinking about that.”

He lifted his head, eyes steady now. “I’ll remember your words.”

Saito’s hand tightened into a fist, knuckles whitening as he swallowed the shame and made a silent vow.

***

Morning came again, as it always did. What made it different was that it was the final morning of the training program—the day of promotion and decision. By sundown, the fates of thousands standing here would be decided.

“What do you think today’s trial will be?”

“I have no idea. Yesterday was already insane enough.”

They bickered lightly, skirting around the one topic everyone feared to bring up. Pretending nothing was coming to fill the silence with harmless chatter was easier.

[All right, everyone! It’s the final morning of your training!]

The only voice brimming with cheer belonged to the hostess, Sarah. Her upbeat tone cut through the tense air, lively as ever, echoing from unseen speakers.

[It’s the moment our little fledglings’ fates are decided, right here, right now!]

“Why is she here again?”

“I thought the event was over.”

“Damn, she’s way too excited for this.”

However, today, something was different.

[Subject Saito of the JP district! It seems like there’s quite a lot of survivors in your region, I see?]

The hostess wasn’t on the stage this time. She was right beside Saito, smiling as she fired off questions like an interrogator.

[Tell me, how did you all manage to survive the Silvery Blade last night?]

[Don’t tell me someone visited you.]

Saito’s face went pale. Her question hung in the air—sharp, deliberate, and far too knowing.