Appliances hummed with their various operating sounds. Aside from that, there was no real noise. It was almost peaceful. The streets below teemed with people and cars, but their presence never reached the top floor of the officetel.

What woke Go Byeonggap was the terrible heat. Every door locked tight, no air conditioning — of course the air had gone blazing hot.

“Ugh, uuugh……”

His eyelids cracked halfway open, then fell shut again. Someone had clearly poured cement over his eyes. Or glued them shut. Nothing short of that could make his eyelids feel so heavy.

He tried to fall back asleep. No — he tried to let go. If it hadn’t been for this suffocating heat, he really would have.

Sweat slicked his entire body. His sticky skin clung to the floor. Thirst? His throat felt drought-stricken.

‘Hungry…….’

Once he acknowledged the thirst, hunger rushed in too. Go Byeonggap had endured plenty of hardships before. But now, he couldn’t survive without getting up.

Though he was awake, his mind was still half-gone. Like a zombie, he crawled across the floor toward the refrigerator. He chugged an entire two-liter bottle of water. When it was half-empty, he poured the rest over his face.

“Hah, hah, hah……”

Now, he felt about 30% conscious.

‘Air conditioner… air conditioner……’

Instinct took over for the remaining seventy percent. He fumbled for the remote, found it, and mashed the temperature-down button until the display bottomed out. The muggy indoor air started to cool, degree by slow degree.

He collapsed onto the living-room sofa and just stared. His head was a fogbank — thick, gray, impenetrable. There was something important he needed to remember, something crucial, but with his body in this state he couldn’t have dragged it out of his skull if you’d beaten him to death.

He decided to focus on cooling down first.

About thirty minutes passed. The thermostat had dropped from thirty-two degrees to twenty-three, and only then did his mind and body feel like they were returning to normal.

The hunger was still there, though. Go Byeonggap tore through his stash of snacks, shoving fistfuls into his mouth, until he caught a glimpse of himself.

“……”

He looked like a goddamn beggar. Filthy, threadbare clothes. The white cotton tee had holes punched through it like a rag. And why the hell was he wearing shoes inside the house?

“Shit.”

The nightmare of the past slammed back into him in an instant. The fog in his head cleared, and shards of memory rushed together, clicking into place like puzzle pieces.

Merilin’s betrayal. Landriol’s resurrection. Having the Goblin Lord’s power ripped away and being killed. The whole sequence flickered past his eyes like a lantern-slide.

Before anger or outrage, the first emotion that surfaced was confusion. Go Byeonggap asked himself a question that might have come from some ancient philosopher.

‘Why am I alive?’

His heart had been pierced. A fatal wound — one that should have made it impossible to circulate energy. And on top of that, there’d been no one to help him, no way to even call for it.

To survive that was one thing. But to wake up in his own apartment on Earth?

He peered deeper into his memory. But there was nothing that could serve as a clue. Right before he’d lost consciousness, he thought he’d seen something dark and blurry…

‘Damn it, I don’t know. Did Landriol save me?’

That was the most plausible theory he could come up with. Landriol had a change of heart, healed him, and sent him back to Earth.

He hadn’t understood their words, but the way Dorma and Merilin had acted — maybe they’d managed to convince Landriol.

‘Merilin… goddammit!’

Thinking of Merilin made rage boil up. Not that realizing it now did any good, but she must have known everything from the start.

What was hidden in Verbonia. What was needed to resurrect the Emperor. Yes. Go Byeonggap had been a sacrifice from the very beginning.

Her attitude at the end had been a little strange, though. Right after they reached Verbonia, she’d suggested they go back to Baltadren. She’d worn a sullen expression throughout the journey. She’d wept and begged for forgiveness…

‘But she still sold me out.’

Betrayal, fury, and a hollow ache crashed through Go Byeonggap, rooting him in place. Even Dorma, the goblin he’d trusted, wouldn’t move for him now that his power was gone. That hurt more than anything.

“Haah… I don’t know. Fuck it.”

He just tore his clothes off and threw them aside. In the bathroom, he cranked the cold water and stood under the spray, letting it hammer into him for a long, long time. Just stood there.

Under the shower, he checked himself over. His body was fully healed. But the Goblin Lord’s authority was gone, plain as a missing limb. The loss hit him like a severed leg—an absence he could feel at every step.

He was toweling off, stepping into the living room, when—

Buzz! Buzz!

His phone vibrated from somewhere. Short pulse—a text message, probably.

The phone was in his discarded pants pocket. Shit. The screen was shattered. Battery at 3%, flickering like it was about to die any second.

He plugged in the charger first, then picked up the phone. His eyebrows twitched.

“…July… July third?”

The date on the screen floored him.

He wasn’t sure if the word fit, but the day he’d died was June 18th. That made it fifteen days ago.

So he’d been out cold for fifteen whole days?

‘Dying and coming back to life—maybe a half-month coma isn’t so strange. Shit. No wonder my throat felt like sandpaper.’

He looked back at the phone. It was a mess. Dozens of missed calls and unread texts piled up.

Who’d be looking for him that hard? Frowning, he checked the messages.

Then, like a thunderbolt, he was out the door.

* * *

“Goddammit!”

The moment he hit the underground parking garage, Go Byeonggap screamed. Someone else’s car was sitting in his usual spot. His SUV was nowhere in sight.

Of course it wasn’t—that car was in Verbonia now.

He bolted up to street level. Thought about grabbing a taxi, but even that felt like wasting time, so he just started running. The hospital wasn’t far from home.

“Mom!”

“Wh-what the hell is that guy!”

Go Byeonggap ran faster than most cars. Walls and fences were nothing to him. Pedestrians were terrified.

In under five minutes, he reached a hospital in Yongsan-gu. He blew through the first-floor lobby, hit the emergency stairs, and climbed to the fourth floor. His heart pounded like it was about to burst—and not from the run.

Finally, he stood in front of the room. His mother Park Yeongok’s room. His hand, reaching for the doorknob, froze. It shook like he had the palsy.

And then, beside him, a voice—almost a shriek—rang out.

“Oh my! Young man Byeonggap!”

There was Choi Jiok, his mother’s caregiver. A kettle hung from her hand — she’d been so startled she hadn’t even noticed she’d dropped it.

“Aigo, why now of all times! I must’ve called you a hundred times in a single day, and you didn’t pick up not once! I thought you, young man, had gone off somewhere and—and kicked the bucket for good! Do you have any idea how I’ve been sick with worry?”

“…I’m sorry, Auntie. I’ve been busy.”

“Damn it all! What could keep you so busy you don’t have time to answer one call? And your mother? What the hell’s gotten into her now?”

She only then noticed the kettle lying on its side on the floor. Bending to pick it up, she added, her voice dropping low.

“Get on inside, quick.”

“…Is she in there?”

“Course she is. She wouldn’t budge, just sat waiting for you to show up — where else would she go? Go on in and see for yourself.”

“Yes.”

Go Byeonggap pushed open the hospital-room door. A middle-aged woman, gaunt beyond measure, was staring fixedly in his direction. She must have heard the commotion outside.

Just the sight of her made his throat tighten. That’s how it is with mothers. Just the thought of them makes your chest ache — isn’t that what a mother is?

“Mom…”

Go Byeonggap’s voice broke as he stepped toward the bed. Park Yeongok spread both arms wide. Like a child, he folded himself into that embrace. And he wept, openly, loudly.

Park Yeongok only smiled gently, her voice teasing.

“Son, you seem healthier. Been working out lately?”

* * *

“So you’re all better now?”

“That’s what they say. The doctor wants to keep me under observation for a month with tests, but he said there shouldn’t be any problems, something like that.”

Go Byeonggap, Park Yeongok, and Choi Jiok sat together in a huddle, peeling and eating apples.

Byeonggap’s eyes were still red-rimmed. This was the first time in five years — maybe longer — that he’d cried like that.

Park Yeongok frowned, launching into a complaint.

“The day before yesterday, a whole pack of reporters came swarming in.”

“Why would reporters—”

It was Choi Jiok who answered Byeonggap’s question.

“Because Ms. Yeongok here’s the only Phantom Disease patient in the country who’s fully recovered. So those damn reporter bastards came crawling over to do an interview… Aish, tsk!”

“Ms. Jiok’s taken such good care of me. She had to hold them off.”

“Aigu, what care? I just gave ’em an earful of curses for being so damn cheeky.”

“Auntie, I’m truly grateful.”

Go Byeonggap bowed his head in thanks. Choi Jiok waved his gesture away with an awkward look.

“Speaking of which, son.”

“Huh?”

“You, honestly — what have you been up to out there? Five whole days without getting in touch.”

Go Byeonggap’s mouth opened and closed. He couldn’t bring himself to say he’d just come back from the brink of death. Choi Jiok, too, was carefully gauging Park Yeongok’s reaction.

Park Yeongok folded her arms, her expression sour as she continued.

“Truth is, every time I woke up for a bit, I thought something was off. Where’d you get the money for all this expensive treatment? Son… you’re not into anything bad, are you?”

“Wh-what, what bad thing? I just used the money Dad left behind for the hospital bills.”

“I’m not stupid, you know. Your dad’s life insurance—how much could that have been?”

Go Byeonggap’s father, Go Huiseong, had been a porter. And he’d passed away before Byeonggap even finished elementary school.

Park Yeongok had no proper job to speak of, but she raised her son on the assets Huiseong had left behind. They’d never exactly struggled. They lived like everyone else did.

Things took a turn when Byeonggap was twenty-two. He was about four months away from discharge when Park Yeongok collapsed, struck down by Phantom Disease.

Byeonggap hesitated, then answered.

“I sold the house.”

“Y-you sold the house? Th-then where are you living?”

“Renting a place, what else.”

“Aigo… you dimwit, you absolute dimwit.”

Park Yeongok pressed a hand to her forehead.

“That couldn’t have been enough, could it?”

She knew. She knew her treatment costs had already well exceeded one-point-five billion won.

That wasn’t the kind of money you got from selling a rundown apartment on the city’s edge.

“I’ve been earning too.”

“What skill do you have to earn money? Did you even graduate college?”

Byeonggap decided he needed to put a stop to his mother’s worrying right here. A parent’s anxiety had no end, and if he let her go on, she’d hound him all night for sure.

“Mom, don’t worry. I didn’t make the money illegally or through anything bad. And I bought a new house too. I’ve got plenty of money.”

“So what skill do you have to—”

Byeonggap grasped his mother’s hand tightly. Park Yeongok was startled when she clasped her son’s hand back. It was so large and rough—completely unlike the son she remembered.

“Mom, let’s move to the countryside.”

“Huh? What’s with the sudden talk?”

“You like the countryside, don’t you?”

“Well, I do, but…”

“Let’s go to the countryside and live quietly, just the two of us. We’ll tend a vegetable garden. Plant sweet potatoes and potatoes, peppers and tomatoes. I know how to farm. I studied a lot. Oh, and it’d be good to raise a few animals too. Chickens would be nice, or rabbits. I can build the shed myself. I’ve built plenty before. So…”

“Son.”

“Yeah, Mom? What?”

“Son, why are you crying again?”

“Huh?”

Byeonggap wiped at his eyes. Damp tears smeared onto his fingers. Why am I doing this?

Just then, Park Yeongok grabbed his shoulders and met his eyes.

“Son, something’s wrong. I can see it. What is it? Tell your mother.”

“Ah… no. It’s nothing.”

Go Byeonggap scrubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and pushed himself upright.

“I’m just going to wash my face. Be right back.”

He went to the hospital bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, cursing himself. Falling apart like this in front of his mother—what kind of grown man was he?

He looked in the mirror. Maybe it was the bloodshot eyes, but the dark circles under them stood out even more. Like a man possessed, he muttered.

“Fine, that’s enough. No more thinking about Asvillam. I did everything I could, didn’t I? What more do you want from me? I even got stabbed in the back by my own subordinate!”

Even if the ending wasn’t clean, he’d given it his all. Hadn’t he passed down knowledge and skills so the goblins at least wouldn’t starve? Without him, they’d manage to survive now.

Besides, the position of Goblin Lord wasn’t even vacant anymore. Landriol had stolen his essence and come back to life. Let them squabble among themselves now, happy as can be…

“Damn it!”

No matter how he looked at it, that still stung.

“Asvillam… the Asvillam I built…”

He was muttering when he suddenly shook as if jolted by electricity. It hit him all at once.

He was far more attached to Asvillam than he’d realized.

The realization hit him like a wave of sorrow.

It finally sank in—every bond he’d built over all this time had been severed in an instant.

Gobungi, Dorma, Doran, Kiriyan, Changsik and Taesik, Turka and Orka, Ea, the Tiny goblins. The stunning view from Somnium’s rocky peaks, the sunset over Baltadren. Was he never going to see any of them again?

Would the place he held in the goblins’ memories—would it vanish forever one distant day?

Honestly, he didn’t want to lose it. Even if they had to part ways someday, he didn’t want it to end like this.

The Lord’s seat had felt like a burden at first, just something annoying to deal with. But somewhere along the way, it had become a vital part of his life.

“…What does it matter? I’m not the Lord or anything anymore. And I can’t even go back to Asvillam.”

But reality was harsh. Asvillam was already too far away to ever reach again.

Go Byeonggap scrubbed his face dry with the hem of his shirt and went back to his mother’s hospital room. Choi Jiok was gone—who knew where. Only Park Yeongok sat there, looking at him as if she’d been waiting.

“Where’s Auntie?”

“Son.”

“Huh? Oh, right, Mom. Is it okay if we eat out? I think you need some meat. Hospital food’s no good. Should I ask the doctor first?”

“Son.”

“…Yeah, go ahead.”

Park Yeongok tried to sit up and wobbled for a moment. After years of lying flat, even that simple motion was still difficult.

Byeonggap moved to catch his mother, but Park Yeongok pulled her arm away from his reach.

“Mom?”

“Son. My son, Byeonggap.”

“Why do you keep calling me? I’m right here. If you have something to say, say it.”

“I’ve been lying down too long. I should have been the one taking care of you, but instead you’ve taken care of me. I’m a terrible mother.”

“Mom! Don’t say that. We’re family—it’s what we do.”

“I know your mother’s been asleep forever, and a lot of things have piled up between us. As a mother, I’m ashamed—I don’t even know what’s been weighing on your mind.”

“No, really, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“Liar. Do you think a mother can’t read her own child’s face?”

Go Byeonggap fell silent, stung.

Park Yeongok smiled and took his hand.

“Son, I’m not going to live with you in the countryside.”

“What? Why?”

“Don’t keep living for this useless mother anymore. Live your own life. Even if I have to cut off my hair and sell it, I’ll help you.”

Byeonggap blinked. Just as he was about to speak, Park Yeongok cut him off.

“Don’t make me into some miserable ajumma who blocks her son’s future.”

“……”

Park Yeongok pulled him into a hug and patted his back.

Then she said what only a mother could say.

“Whatever it is that makes you sad—I don’t know what it is—go and settle it cleanly. Do what you want to do. That’s what I want.”