Soon-ae opened her eyes only about thirty days a year.

She could have stayed awake longer had she wished, but she never bothered.

After all, the only reason she even opened her eyes was because her body had become this way—allowing her to sense the creation of gates.

Beyond guarding the village, there was nothing to do but stand blankly in a desolate landscape devoid of even a trace of human warmth—so what need was there to stay awake?

That was why it felt so unfamiliar.

The sight of something bustling about the village, of someone raising their voice.

Ppok!

Ppok!

Ppok!

“Shark, don’t just make your avatars do the work—pitch in yourself. Sea Otter, you’re supposed to clear the rocks, not collect them. Teddy Bear… yeah, you’re the best of the bunch.”

Human-sized dolls popped about, clearing away the collapsed debris.

Jung-woo commanded the dolls like a construction supervisor.

It was strange.

For decades, the village had been nothing but bleak and desolate, but now it carried the scent of human life.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. We must be making quite a racket.”

At his question, Soon-ae slowly shook her head after a belated pause.

[No, no.]

Her voice was surely thick with emotion.

As if nostalgia had been stirred within her.

Because it reminded her of those days when young men would come to repair the roofs, grumbling all the while about how nothing ever got done in the village.

The words seemed reluctant to come, and she finally managed to squeeze out her next sentence.

[Do the little ones have anything to eat?]

Jung-woo answered.

“They don’t eat anything. And, well… I haven’t eaten yet either.”

The young man, who looked like he’d break quite a few hearts out there, flashed a sheepish grin—and something about that sight pleased Soon-ae enough to respond.

[Wait right there. Granny will bring you a snack.]

For just a brief moment, it felt as though she had returned to a time she had only seen in dreams.

Jung-woo spent that entire day’s working hours in Seolyang Village.

The buildings destroyed by magical beasts were not something that could be easily handled, even with all his summons mobilized.

‘This will take a few days.’

He had spent the entire day directing the dolls to clean up the village and salvage what remained intact, and already the sun was setting.

Since they lacked materials anyway, he consulted with Hae-seo and decided to call it a day here.

“Shall we go pay our respects now?”

“Ah, you go ahead. I need to take a call first.”

Jung-woo nodded and headed alone to the village square.

There, Soon-ae stood among the old ginkgo trees, gazing blankly at the village.

Her face held an air of peace, yet threaded with loneliness.

There was a familiarity steeped in that solitude, and suddenly Jung-woo understood.

Soon-ae had spent most of her thirty-odd waking days each year simply staring at the empty village.

Jung-woo suppressed the swell of emotion rising in his chest and approached her.

“Ma’am, I think I should be heading back for today.”

Soon-ae stared blankly for a moment before registering Jung-woo’s presence, then replied with a kindly smile.

[Mm, that’s right. You worked hard all day because of this old woman.]

“I did it because I wanted to. But what were you thinking about?”

[What would an old woman have to think about? Just reminiscing about the old days.]

“The old days…?”

[A very long time ago. So long ago that a young man like you couldn’t even imagine.]

Soon-ae gazed at the distant mountains.

Toward the north, where the towering wooden palisade blocked the view.

For some reason, Jung-woo couldn’t bring himself to step away.

The thought had struck him suddenly—that he shouldn’t leave her alone.

Soon-ae seemed like something worn down by the elements, now exhausted and on the verge of collapse.

And so, because that sight was so precariously fragile.

“I suppose I wouldn’t know much about the twentieth century. I was born in the twenty-first, after all.”

He sat on a plastic chair beside the tree, barely holding its shape.

“Could you tell me about it?”

The moment he said that.

Soon-ae gave a small start, then murmured as though recalling something.

Her gaze slipped from Jung-woo and turned back toward the north.

Silence fell.

At the end of it, an entirely unexpected remark burst forth.

[You know, young man. Did you know this old woman came from the North?]

Deolkeok—Jung-woo froze.

[1937. That’s right, 1937. That’s when I was born.]

What followed was the story of this old woman’s truly tumultuous life.

[When I was born, you see. It was still when the Japanese were ruling our country. What would a child know? Just that there were Japanese people, and there were Korean people. That’s about all I understood.]

She laughed heartily, then continued.

[Liberation came when I was eight. Didn’t even know what it meant—just that my mother and father were shouting “Long live!” and the whole neighborhood poured into the streets. So I figured that’s just how it is, and I laughed and cried and shouted along with everyone… And then, not even a few years later, war broke out.]

The Korean War.

That was the story she told.

[I was thirteen, I think. I was taking my younger siblings out to help with the farm work, and what a commotion it was.]

“My God…”

[“We’re all going to die. We’re all going to die.” That’s what everyone was saying. But then, before long, the South Korean soldiers came up to where we were, along with the Americans. I didn’t know what to do. Then my father said we had to go south. But my mother wasn’t there. She had just… dropped dead.]

Jung-woo knew the event.

The January 4th Retreat of 1951, when the South Korean forces that had pushed all the way to the Yalu River were driven back south.

It seemed Soon-ae had been among the displaced refugees who fled south during that time.

[Without even knowing that, we took a boat from Hungnam all the way to Geoje Island. Somehow we kept drifting back up north. Then after the war ended, I ended up here. My whole teenage years were just wandering from place to place.]

Only then did Jung-woo understand why Soon-ae’s dialect was a patchwork of regional accents from across the country.

Having lived through such a long journey during her formative years, it made perfect sense.

[Well, somehow we survived. Figured I’d settle down, got married, had children, and lived like that.]

“…Your whole life here?”

[That’s right. Here for my whole life.]

Soon-ae smiled quietly.

Her gaze was still fixed on the north.

[I’d look out at the North Korean land in the distance and wonder if my mother was doing well in heaven. Then I’d watch my children grow up and get married. Play with the grandchildren when they came. That’s how I lived.]

Those words carried a deeper meaning.

From 1937 to 2032—if you asked an old woman who had lived through this vast span of time to look back on her life, the world before the Gate Shock would have felt more real to her than the present.

That realization struck Jung-woo as deeply sorrowful.

At the very least, the fate of an old woman who had lived such a life was plain to see from the scene before him.

[“A new millennium begins.” I remember hearing those words…]

“…The Millennium Shock.”

[What would anyone know in this mountain village? Just figured something strange was happening in the world. Then my children brought the grandchildren here, asking to hide out for a while. So our whole family lived together. About three months, I think. The news and everything went dead, and we just lived listening to the radio to hear how the world was turning. That’s how it came to this.]

From that point, regret began to deepen in Soon-ae’s words.

[But then those monsters showed up right in the village.]

“…”

[Those things ate my son, and everyone in the village ran, and my grandchild got crushed underneath. Oh, no. No, no. I should have died. Why did they take the child instead…]

The intensity of her emotion was clear enough from her thickening dialect alone.

It was a moment when Jung-woo couldn’t bring himself to add a word.

[…Then I started seeing things. Someone telling me to grow trees. That I had to grow trees.]

“Awakening…”

[I didn’t even know what it was. I just kept screaming “Trees! Trees!” and then tree trunks burst from the ground and killed all those monsters.]

Soon-ae closed her eyes.

She steadied herself before continuing.

[After that, it got quiet. My children, my grandchildren, all dead. So it got quiet.]

It was a story that could have happened.

The early 2000s, when gates first erupted, was a time when the entire world felt like it was facing the apocalypse.

More gates appeared in places with larger populations.

That was the only known cause at the time, and so quite a few people had fled to the countryside.

Soon-ae’s children must have been among those people.

But gates didn’t only appear in major cities.

With other formation factors in play, Seolyang Village too fell victim to a gate, as was a common tragedy in those days.

That day, Soon-ae awakened—but she had failed to protect anything. All that remained was an ability whose origin she couldn’t even explain. That was the tragedy of it.

[Why was I the only one who survived? I wondered that.]

Soon-ae’s tone softened again.

[Then I noticed my back didn’t hurt anymore, and breathing was easy. So I buried all my family here and lived watching over their graves. Then I heard North Korea had collapsed, and I tried to go there.]

“Why?”

[With those Kims gone, I wanted to go back to my hometown, where my mother is buried, and die there.]

But she wouldn’t have been able to.

“North Korea is…”

[That’s right. Because of this plague of a thing.]

Soon-ae smiled bitterly.

[So I couldn’t go. That plague kept trying to cross over, so I built the wooden palisade. This is the land where my children and grandchildren are buried—I couldn’t let it be ruined.]

“…”

[Then one day, little sprouts started growing on my body, and it came to this.]

Soon-ae stroked her own arm.

Rough tree bark scraped beneath her fingers.

[Became a tree monster, and the rest of the villagers all left, and I was left alone. So I just sleep.]

It must have been the terror of the early days, before demonification was understood.

No matter how many decades they had lived as neighbors, how could anyone not feel terror toward a person whose body had turned into a tree?

[…It was around then that that boy Jun-ho came.]

“Ah…”

[He said he’d let me set foot on my hometown soil again. Said he was the strongest man in this country. So he asked me to open that door.]

It was the moment Jung-woo’s lips parted.

[He came all the way to find this monster of an old woman, ate so well, and laughed so freely. Then he said he’d grant my lifelong wish if I opened the door, so I did. I thought, at least I’ll die where my mother is buried.]

Her words carried an indelible affection.

And alongside it, regret.

[…I’m the one who devoured him.]

“Ma’am…”

[If only I hadn’t made that door, Jun-ho wouldn’t have died like that.]

It seemed to be guilt.

The reason Soon-ae refused to open the way twice over was the regret of an old woman who had only ever lost the things she gave her heart to, even at the end of her life.

[Look at me. I look like a monster. This monster devoured people. So I’m being punished.]

The story ended there.

Soon-ae had lowered her head deeply, murmuring self-reproach like a chant.

Jung-woo kept his lips firmly shut.

What a tragic life.

Truly, she had lived a life of such extraordinary misfortune.

For this old woman, the wall dividing North and South was not some grand ideological cause.

She had simply lost everything she loved in her lifetime, and in trying to protect the land where they were buried, she had ended up here.

Because of that wall, she was condemned to spend her entire life imagining her homeland only from the other side.

Every attempt to cross, every flicker of hope, had been crushed and transformed into a new sin.

How could that not be heartbreaking?

[That’s why I can’t let you go either. You shouldn’t feed a monster like that.]

Even in this moment, how could one not feel compassion for a life that could only describe itself in such terms?

The sunset had deepened.

Jung-woo turned the words over in his mouth.

He understood the reason.

What words could you offer someone who had been stripped of her homeland, her family, and her life’s final wish over the course of nearly a century?

What words would be for her sake?

After much deliberation, this was all he could manage.

“No. Not a monster.”

Jung-woo looked Soon-ae in the eye.

“You’re not a monster, ma’am.”

[How can you say that after hearing all this?]

“Because it’s the truth.”

Jung-woo smiled faintly.

He reached out and wrapped his hand around hers, enveloping her bark-covered fingers.

“I have proof.”

Yes—if she felt like a monster because everything around her withered away.

At the very least, he could tell her that wasn’t the reason.

“You heard what my ability is, right?”

[The one where you command those doll children, isn’t it?]

“I command dolls, and I also turn bad things into dolls.”

The All-Ages Filter transforms magical beasts into dolls.

It’s a power that mutates the corrupted entities within gates.

But—

“That ability is active right now, and you’re still the same.”

Soon-ae hadn’t turned into a doll.

Of course not.

Demonification wasn’t the process of becoming a magical beast—it was simply a type of mana disorder.

“So that proves it. You’re not a monster—you’re just something different. And since when is a tree a monster?”

That’s right—there was nothing fearsome about it at all.

“Our Se-gi reads fairy tales all the time, and in them, trees shaped like people always play the good roles. They show up as wonderful grandmothers and grandfathers who help the protagonist.”

Soon-ae’s eyes widened.

A faint tremor traveled through her fingertips.

He added:

“Autumn is coming soon.”

[…That’s right. Autumn.]

“When the ginkgo leaves bloom beautifully and the trees turn golden, you’ll be standing there looking absolutely lovely.”

Please—let this person who had protected this nation.

This person who had never been happy, despite everything—let her smile.

“Could Se-gi and I come visit then?”

In the season when the sky grows high, you would be a truly beautiful fairy.

That was what he said.

The answer didn’t come right away.

Soon-ae gripped Jung-woo’s hand tightly and remained silent for a long while, holding her breath.

Soundlessly, holding his gaze, she studied Jung-woo’s face.

She didn’t frown or shed a single tear, but to Jung-woo, she looked as though she were weeping.

The kind of weeping that purges every suffocating thing pent up inside.

Then, after that:

[Young man, you shouldn’t say things like that to girls so carelessly.]

“It’s fine to say them to you, isn’t it?”

[I’ll let it slide because you’re talking to your granny.]

Soon-ae smiled quietly.

It seemed to mean that his words had offered her at least a small comfort, and Jung-woo was able to smile back.

That day, they came down the mountain and gathered additional materials.

The next day, he brought up a few workers and together they repaired the ruined village.

It was during one of those days.

[Jung-woo, do you really have to go to North Korea?]

“…Yes. It’s something I absolutely need to do.”

[Then make me one promise.]

Soon-ae was the first to bring up the journey to North Korea.

Then she said: don’t overdo it.

[Stay right behind the others. You have to be somewhere I can help you.]

It was, in effect, permission.

Permission to open the way there.

Jung-woo’s eyes widened in surprise, and then he embraced Soon-ae.

“Thank you so much!”

[Oh my, you shameless rascal.]

The final piece of the journey to North Korea had fallen into place.