The Guests from the City

‘That was close.’

Sure, they probably already knew people were here from all the noise Kang Jung-bae and Park Deok-pal made.

But spying was different from just being noticed.

‘Anyway, time to get back to work.’

Garam turned toward the backyard.

Half of the crops still needed watering.

Deok-pal sometimes offered to help, but Garam always refused.

He wanted to tend his plants himself.

‘Ah, my lovely babies.’

The lush greenery told him harvest day wasn’t far away.

A soft smile formed on his lips.

Until the Blood Stem suddenly went berserk, extending a vine and slamming it into the ground beside him.

The air hissed past his arm, raising goosebumps.

‘What the—?’

He spun around to see the vine trapped in a man’s grip, writhing violently.

“Who are you?”

It was the ascetic-looking man he’d glimpsed earlier near the front.

Garam blinked in confusion, and the stranger smiled.

A gentle, almost holy smile that somehow made his face seem even more divine.

“And who might you be?”

The sharp voice came from behind him.

A handsome man with a snide expression.

“I didn’t hear that Lee Jaeheon kept anyone around.”

“Yoon Ji-ho. Mind your manners,” the ascetic man said quietly.

Garam hesitated, unsure how to respond to the sudden hostility.

But the man called Ji-ho continued arrogantly.

“Why bother with manners when we don’t even know who he is?

Besides, those two look like beggars.”

Wonderful logic.

He and Kang Jung-bae would get along perfectly.

“Well, then, who are you?” Garam shot back.

“What? You don’t know who I am? Me, Yoon Ji-ho?”

Ji-ho looked as if Garam had just insulted royalty.

“Should I?”

That turned Ji-ho’s face bright red.

“What kind of idiot doesn’t—”

He tried to sound cutting, but compared to the way Jung-bae cursed daily, it was laughably tame.

“Then are you stupid?

Or maybe a sea squirt, a sea cucumber, or an anemone?”

Garam spat out the string of nonsense words confidently.

Even though he had no idea what half of them meant.

He’d just copied Jung-bae’s style.

It seemed surprisingly effective.

Ji-ho started shouting furiously.

“What did you just say?!”

“Everyone, calm down,” the ascetic man said, trying to restrain him.

“Calm down?

This nobody insulted me to my face!”

“You started it.”

“What?”

Before Ji-ho could step forward, a cold voice cut through the air.

“What are you doing here?”

It was Lee Jaeheon.

“Hello, Mr. Lee,” the ascetic man greeted politely.

“I asked what you’re doing here.”

“We were just introducing ourselves to your acquaintance.”

“So introductions involve shouting now?”

Jaeheon’s gaze shifted to Ji-ho.

And instantly, Ji-ho’s clenched fist loosened.

Apparently, Jaeheon’s mere presence was enough to silence a hothead.

“My apologies,” said the ascetic man smoothly.

“Mr. Yoon Ji-ho is still young — easily excitable.”

“Not an adult?”

“Adulthood doesn’t always come with maturity.”

Garam couldn’t tell whether he was defending Ji-ho or subtly mocking him.

“And who’s this person?” the man asked, nodding toward Garam.

“Haven’t seen him before.”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Mr. Lee is someone our city values greatly.

It’s natural we’d want to know who’s by his side.”

City?

Only then did Garam notice their clothes.

Clean, well-tailored, and clearly expensive.

They must be city dwellers.

‘Lucky bastards.’

Getting a citizen permit inside a protected city was notoriously difficult.

“If someone important tells you to mind your own business, do it,” Jaeheon said.

“Understood,” the man replied smoothly.

“Still, impressive — I don’t recall seeing this field before.

When did you start cultivating it?”

His gaze swept over the neat rows of crops and the Blood Stem standing guard nearby.

He didn’t even glance at the ragged trio.

Like Ji-ho, he ignored Kang Jung-bae and Park Deok-pal completely.

Jung-bae bristled but Deok-pal held him back.

“May I ask what you’re growing?”

“Carrots, sweet potatoes, and potatoes.”

“Splendid.”

“Uh… thanks?”

“And your occupation?”

“Not telling.”

The man blinked, clearly unaccustomed to being refused.

But he quickly recomposed himself and smiled again — too perfectly, like a mannequin.

“Is it… a special profession?”

“No.”

Special professions were things like Swordsman, Mage, or Healer.

Garam sighed.

“Then what is it?” Ji-ho snapped.

“Well…”

“Well?”

“It’s a secret!”

He put a finger to his lips with exaggerated seriousness.

Ji-ho’s face flushed crimson again.

“Perhaps he’s just uncomfortable saying,” the woman among them interjected calmly.

“That’s fair.

I may have asked too much,” the man admitted, backing off gracefully.

“Enough small talk.”

Jaeheon’s voice cut in — he was still caressing his potted plant.

“State your business and leave.”

“May we discuss it here?”

“Fine.”

“We came regarding the next Tower climb.”

“The date’s already set.”

“Other guilds have requested to join.”

“They’re a nuisance.”

Jaeheon’s dismissal was sharp and immediate.

“I thought as much.

I’ll inform them accordingly.”

“Do that.”

“By the way, your plant looks far healthier than before.

Did you pour another elixir into it?”

Elixir?

Garam’s eyes went wide.

Ask anyone what an elixir was, and they’d say the same thing.

The legendary potion that heals anything short of death.

And this lunatic used it… on a flowerpot?!

“No,” Jaeheon replied coolly.

“Elixirs are too hard to come by.”

“Indeed.

You struggled enough to find the last one,” the man said.

Garam listened closely, trying to piece things together.

First: Jaeheon really was insane.

Who uses miracle potions on plants?

Second: He was far stronger than Garam had assumed.

Maybe Park Deok-pal was right — maybe he really was a ranked powerhouse.

By the time Garam finished processing, their conversation had ended.

The ascetic man — who had been holding the Blood Stem’s vine all along — finally released it.

The plant retracted its tendrils and wrapped a few gently around Garam, as if protectively.

How… sweet.

“Well then, I’ll be going.

And you, what’s your name?”

“Garam.”

“I’m Choi Gun-woo.

I handle market affairs in Haetae District — a humble position.”

If you’re humble, then what am I?

Garam thought awkwardly as he shook Gun-woo’s offered hand.

The man tapped Garam’s palm twice before stepping back.

“Until next time.”

With a graceful leap, Choi Gun-woo vaulted over the barbed fence.

The woman followed — effortlessly carrying Ji-ho like a sack.

Ji-ho protested the entire way, but she ignored him with practiced ease.

Jaeheon watched them disappear down the path, then turned to Garam.

“Hand.”

“Sorry?”

“Your hand.”

When Garam offered it, Jaeheon clasped it firmly.

His hand was larger, rougher — the hand of someone who wielded a sword.

Something significant was about to happen… or so Garam thought.

But nothing did.

Jaeheon simply released him and walked back into the house, leaving Garam and the other two standing there.

“…What was that about?”

He tilted his head, but couldn’t guess.

“‘Can’t reveal his job,’ huh.”

Choi Gun-woo smiled faintly, recalling the scene.

“He’s just an attention-seeker.

Probably some weak swordsman scraping by,” Yoon Ji-ho muttered.

“Perhaps.”

The woman — Kim Sun-young — pushed up her glasses.

“Still, I sensed something else.

Weak, yes, but definitely an Awakened.”

“If you say so,” Gun-woo replied.

Kim Sun-young was a rare psychic-type Awakened — able to discern truth from lies.

Her intuition was rarely wrong.

“That’s probably all there is to it,” Ji-ho grumbled.

“Maybe,” Gun-woo said calmly.

“By the way, did you notice that?”

“Notice what?”