Chapter 52: Divergence
Chapter 52: Divergence
Chapter 52: Divergence
Limon’s eyes shot open as he pulled out his sword from under his pillow, and got into position to attack.
“Who are you?” he asked slowly.
A final cold-blooded word for anyone who dared to come for him—the warning of a swordmaster not even a monarch could ignore.
On the other end, a voice courtly replied.
“Room service, sir.”
“...What service?”
“Room service. Your breakfast is here.”
A remarkably polite answer was heard from the other side of the door. Limon blinked blankly and looked at his surroundings.
A huge bed in an exceptionally wide room. A carpet sat and paintings were strewn about on the walls.
Only after slowly taking in the explicably luxurious room did Limon loosen up.
‘Oh, right. This is Hotel Leviathan, huh?’
One could say habits are a scary thing.
And old ones die hard.
It had been multiple days since he started staying at Hotel Leviathan, and yet, here Limon was, waking up with his sword drawn again.
Limon sighed at his own stupidity.
He knew it was safe in his head, but his body could only perceive this place as enemy territory from his long feud with the Seven Dragons Association.
“May I come in?”
“Uh, sure.”
Shing—
Limon put away his sword.
In came an elderly man in a suit pushing a wagon. He wasn’t the slightest bit fazed seeing Limon with his sword out.
As if he was already familiar with Limon’s manners now, he calmly set the table.
From setting the napkin-wrapped silverware, the steaming hot pumpkin soup, toast with slow cooked eggs and bacon, to the lemon water, all of it looked straight out of a muted video.
There wasn’t an ounce of sound and Yo Ouin’s presence could barely even be felt in the room.
Limon clicked his tongue.
‘This is why I can’t fucking relax…’
Those who weren’t aware would have simply admired that Yo Ouin’s silent and concise methods were the paragon of customer service.
But Limon knew.
That silence was not for the comfort of the guest, but merely the strict results of being an assassin.
Of course it was…
This was the Hotel Leviathan. It was basically the Black Dragon Clan’s nest before it was the best hotel in the world.
That was why Limon made a sarcastic remark as he took a bite out of his toast.
“Can the general manager of a hotel really be catering to room service like this?”
“It is the duty of a general manager to provide special service for special guests.”
“What a fucking honor.”
“It is my honor as well.”
Limon looked Yo Ouin up and down.
It was impossible to tell if he was being sarcastic or genuine that he’d never expected to be serving Limon Asphelder as a guest.
Grumbling in his head complaining about how hard it was to deal with the Black Dragon Clan, he finished his toast.
“Well… Special service or not, I’ll give it to you. The food… It’s good.”
“Thank you.”
“I wasn’t talking to you. I meant the head chef who made this dish.”
“That is all the more reason I should thank you.”
“Huh?”
Limon blinked, looking back and forth between his empty plate and Yo Ouin.
“Don’t tell me you made that.”
“As mentioned before, it is the general manager’s duty to provide special services.”
“…My ass. All a general manager has to be good at is managing shit. Why the fuck are you good at cooking?”
Limon unknowingly furrowed his brows.
The toast was crisp, the fried eggs had just the right amount of yolk—and the seasoning, exceptional.
The dish’s simplicity only served to make the exceptional cooking stand out even more. Anyone would say that it was the work of a first class chef.
Yo Ouin did not lift his head high, however. He simply answered like it was just some trivial hobby of his.
“One tends to acquire various skills after living for so long.”
“…Are you taking the piss out of me right now? That I’m just a geezer who still can’t do anything but swing a sword?”
“I would never, sir.”
“Oh, yeah. Fuck your never.”
Limon scoffed at the general manager's civility and downed the pumpkin soup directly from the bowl.
Even if his responses were annoying, there was no reason to turn down a perfectly good meal unless it was poisoned.
He finished off his breakfast with the lemon water until something came to mind.
“What about the princess?”
“She is currently out.”
“It’s barely six. What’s there to be so busy about?”
“There are new, urgent matters to be taken care of thanks to a certain someone.”
‘It’s all your fault she’s busy.’
“You should have paid more attention to your members. It would have taken some weight off her shoulders if she had someone to pass over the work to.”
‘The princess was busy because you’re not dependable.’
“I have my regrets on that matter as well, but there are certain affairs within the clan that only the princess can take care of.”
‘It is none of an outsider’s business.’
“What a shame. I would have been able to help. If only we had a wedding!”
‘Just know that I’ll be your superior once I get married.’
It was the very definition of a running battle.
Neither hesitated to spit venom at the other.
But contrary to their hellish exchange of words, they were both calm—far too calm.
Limon and Yo Ouin were both experienced and strong individuals.
Both went through wars that could have had their heads blown off in the blink of an eye. Banter like this was nothing but a lighthearted joke when they could stick a blade in someone’s heart with a smile.
After their friendly conversation, Yo Ouin courtly asked as he was cleaning the table.
“What are you planning to do today, sir?”
“Screw plans. Like I’d have anything to do here,” Limon scoffed.
There was only one thing he had been doing for the past few days.
“I'm gonna go do some morning training.”
***
***
He swung his sword.
Not fast, but slowly.
His grip was tight, like he was holding a boulder.
The flow of his blade was a work of art—so slow it seemed frozen, but never actually seizing to move.
It had the art of extreme liberation. It was mesmerizing—you couldn’t take your eyes off it once you saw it.
“Ah, fuck.”
But the wielder of the sword suddenly ended his 4 hours of stoic training with a vulgarity.
He scrunched his face as he put away his sword and wiped the sweat off his face with a towel.
“It’s still not enough.”
It was a peculiar situation, and he wasn’t talking about his training.
Swordsmanship training was routine for Limon. Unless he was too busy, it was a regular part of his life he would pour hours into daily.
The problem was his expression.
It was rare for Limon to not look refreshed after training, but frustrated.
It only happened when he was to stop for urgent matters, or when he wasn’t pleased with the flow of his sword.
Of course, no one was interrupting Limon for any emergencies, and the flow of his sword was exemplary.
There was only one reason he was aggravated.
He didn’t get any results.
“That snaky fucker, what the hell did it leave in me?”
Limon clicked his tongue.
Not being able to go out in public due to being charged for treason wasn’t the only reason he was putting his all into his training for the past few days.
Ever since he cut down ‘The Snake that Connects Ends’, there had been a feeling of divergence in him.
At first, he thought it was a curse.
He’d been cursed by plenty of fools before he killed them before, and it wouldn’t be surprising if a constellation had thrown a tantrum at him.
But he soon realized…
This was something much more troublesome and unwelcome than a curse.
It was the fragments of shattered starlight that were absorbed into him after he had cut the snake.
“Fuckin’ hell, what’s up with these jackass constellations and them injecting shit into everything and everyone whenever they’re cut? Nutcases, man. Nutcases.”
He’d experienced the symptoms for a while now.
From being able to see the constellations, to the system messages that showed something getting absorbed into his body whenever he cut a constellation.
It was easy to assume that ‘something’ was inside of him.
The problem was what that something was.
‘It’s been useful so far.’
It must have been the constellation’s powers, and although unwelcome,l it wasn’t that bad if being able to see them was the only thing coming out of it.
After all, it’s convenient to be able to see who you want to cut.
Perhaps there were other ways to use this power and he just wasn’t aware of it yet.
But what if that wasn’t all?
What if there were other things mixed in with the starlights?
What if the personas of the constellations were absorbed into him as well?
What if that turned him into one of them?
“I don’t have a good feeling about this at all.”
Limon clicked his tongue.
It could just be paranoia, but he had to be on guard.
Especially when he’d seen the fate of Park Hyun-gun after gobbling up every opportunity for power from the stars with a brain as smooth as his.
Not to mention the divergence he felt.
Divergence: Something of a different nature.
The fact he could feel this in the first place told him that the wheels weren’t turning right.
‘Maybe I’m just constipated.’
Once before he went back in time, when he had cut down those three constellations, and another while he was trying to take down Lee Chun-gi. Those were the times he absorbed the fragments of constellations.
And yet, he’d never felt this feeling of divergence before he cut the snake. Perhaps he was feeling so full and constipated because of how much he’d absorbed from the snake.
Or it could just be a synastry issue. Maybe he’ll adjust to it over time.
‘There’s no knowing if I actually have heavy metal poisoning when I think it’s just simple constipation.’
Limon wasn’t all optimistic about this, either.
Getting better over time also meant it could also get worse.
He especially couldn’t just depend on the passage of time when he didn’t know when or how many constellations he’d cut in the future.
On top of that, the feeling of divergence going away wouldn’t resolve all of his problems.
‘Having powers I can’t control are bound to be a problem sooner or later.’
Limon’s power to ‘see the constellations’ wasn't there because he wanted them.
It just activated all by itself.
But what if he got powers like ‘making eye contact with someone turns them to stone’ or ‘anyone who hears his voice kills them’ and it automatically activates?
It would spell disaster.
‘I have to learn to control it, at the very least…’
That was why Limon was training until he sweat, which didn’t happen very often.
After all, there’s no better way for a swordmaster to meditate and control himself than swordsmanship.
The problem was that the results were far from satisfactory.
Whether he changed his training style, did nothing but swing swords all day, or even when he meditated—no matter what method he used, nothing allowed him to control his ability.
On the upside, the divergence did went away a little.
At this rate, it’d only take another 10 years.
His frustration was only natural.
“Tsk, do I have to go another way about this?”
He scratched the back of his head.
He may be a swordsman, but he knew that not all problems could be fixed with a sword.
Swordsmanship was ultimately for battle. There were people with expertise in complicated matters for this very reason.
He just didn’t want to ask them for help, that’s all.
Of course, there was no reason for him to not hold hands with another group when he’d already done it with his sworn enemy, the Seven Dragons Association…
“…Fine, I’ll think about it for now.”
Limon came to a conclusion.
It had only been a few days since he’d started training.
Not only was it too early to determine that his efforts were truly fruitless, it wasn’t the time for him to meet others so hastily either.
“Anyways, I'd have to settle this treason charge first to do anything.”
Limon lightly clicked his tongue until something came to mind as he turned to the calendar.
‘Come to think of it, isn’t that today?’
He counted the days for a bit.
After making sure it wasn’t late yet after recalling his memory, Li mon left the training room as he muttered to himself.
“Let’s see, I don’t feel like going all the way to my room just to watch TV… Where’s a good place to watch…”
Limon narrowed his eyes as he continued forward and turned his head to the side.
“Ah, I know a place.”
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