1016 Episode 62 Snowfield Kim Dokja (6)

I read Snowfield’s story meticulously from beginning to end. I read some parts slowly, while others I read quickly, immersed in them without even realizing it. It was a strange feeling.

I am now re-reading the scene where he reads my story as a story myself.

Through this process of reading each other and being read again, we became Kim Dokja.

With a 'pop' sound, the clone of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, who had handed me the story fragment, turned into hair. Perhaps it had fulfilled its duty by delivering the fragment of Snowfield to me.

The 'Demon King of Salvation' muttered in my head.

—So this is how it turned out.

I checked once again to see if I had missed any scenes.

There were brief memories even after the scene where Snowfield asked Cheon Inho to collect the fragments of Kim Dokja.

The scene where Kim Dokja of the Snowfield encounters Asmodeus and the 'Recorders of Fear'.

Up to the scene where he first faces the 'Wenny King'.

Although I could not know exactly what they discussed, there was one certain fact.

The opportunity for me, who had been living a life that was not Kim Dokja, to become Kim Dokja.

Snowfield gave me that opportunity.

By drawing me into his stage and making me live in the body of Cheon Inho.

—But that wouldn't be the whole purpose.

I shared the same thoughts as the Demon King of Salvation. What I read was merely a tiny fraction of the records left by 'Snowfield'.

—If he had truly been curious whether you would choose a life that was not 'Kim Dokja' even after going through all of this, he could have used many other methods.

That's right. The events Snowfield orchestrated were too grand in scale to have occurred merely to watch my choices.

Above all, Snowfield was gathering fragments to become the 'Oldest Dream' himself.

After reading Snowfield's story, I felt as though I vaguely understood what it was. However, that sensation melted away as quickly as a snowflake settling on my shoulder. Instead, what remained in my hand were the seven blank spaces left by Snowfield.

"What is this?"

When I asked, the Demon King of Salvation replied.

—Obvious.

The Demon King of Salvation, a master of filtering analysis, deciphered the blank spaces very simply.

—The one and only Kim Dokja. There is nothing else.

It was an answer anyone would have to agree with. It was certain both circumstantially and in context.

However, that accuracy felt strangely like a trap to me.

"The spacing is different, but there is one more that is seven letters long."

—What?

I stared intently at the filtered blank space, then moved my hand to adjust the number of spaces.

■■ ■■■ ■■.

Just like 'The One and Only Kim Dokja', seven letters.

I know a word that fits this blank space. The moment I was about to say it, the voice of the Demon King of Salvation was heard.

—Youngest.

I suddenly looked up to find other clones of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven gathered in the corner of the gourd.

U-ah.

A troop of monkeys beckoned toward me as if telling me to come over. As I approached them, I saw glittering fragments at the edge of the gourd.

The clones picked up the fragments and handed them to me, as if sharing delicious food.

"This is..."

Could it be another fragment of Snowfield Kim Dokja’s story? The fragments smelled of the sea. Some fragments were hot, as if pulled from a fire.

Rather than properly capturing a story, it was merely a fragment containing the sensation of a certain phenomenon.

I knew the owners of these story fragments.

The unrecovered story fragments of myth-grade constellations were there.

"What became of them?"

I recalled the gods who had been imprisoned in the Great Sage Equal to Heaven's prison.

Poseidon, who reminded me of a Marine Corps grandfather; his wife Demeter; Zeus, the electrician; and even Odin, who loved carving.

Even when I surveyed the universe, Mount Five Elements, where the Great Sage Equal to Heaven was imprisoned, was no longer visible. Since the owners of the stories had been cast apart along with the Great Sage Equal to Heaven, had the story fragments I had seen also been unable to escape?

—It was probably sweet.

"You mean they escaped?"

The 'Demon King of Salvation' replied to my question in a calm voice.

—They are the representatives of the massive nebulae. No matter how great the Great Sage Equal to Heaven is, he cannot stop those who sacrifice a part of their true form to escape. They must have suffered a massive blow, but more than half must have safely escaped that world.

Even though they were stories of my enemies, I felt a strange sense of relief at the fact that those stories had not vanished but had flowed away somewhere.

Buzz.

As if sensing my emotions, the fragment of Poseidon clutched in my hand also began to weep softly.

—The scenario area is drawing near.

I could feel it, too. The energy of chaos I had been sensing from afar for some time. The familiar sensation of catastrophe.

A destruction far more vast than any scenario I had ever experienced awaited me.

The fragments of the mythical constellations were trembling. As if reluctant to return to where their true forms were.

The starlight of the scenario twinkling across the vast expanse of the universe. Here, the final radiance of the dying constellations shone endlessly beautifully.

—Youngest.

Kim Dokja was calling my name. The Demon King of Salvation, the Great King of Fear, the Prisoner of the Golden Headband, and my brother were calling me.

I nodded. It was time to go.

To the battlefield where all stars fall.

The first to wake up screaming was Poseidon. Amidst the furiously swirling aftershock of probability, Poseidon repeatedly vomited.

It was only after sacrificing nearly half of his true body's story that Poseidon was able to escape from the prison of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

Even then, had they not used the power of the 'Round Table' to roll the dice together, they would have all been crushed together by the summoned Mount Five Elements.

Thanks to this, the Round Table will not be able to wield its absolute power as before for the time being. It was all caused by a single myth-grade monkey.

Looking around, he saw gods who, just like him, were repeatedly gagging while leaning on the Round Table.

They were all the constellations who had crossed the 'Missing Thicket' with him.

Poseidon frowned as he watched these dignified myth-grade constellations repeatedly vomiting in a wretched state.

The one who spoke those words was Odin, the 'One-Eyed Father', the only one among the powerful gods who maintained his dignity. Although his complexion had turned somewhat pale, he still glared at the Round Table while maintaining his composure.

Upon closer inspection, Odin's hands looked strangely uneasy. His hands, which had been fumbling emptily in the air as if needing something to touch, finally settled only after grasping a small object on the table.

At Odin's words, Poseidon also examined his own story.

Come to think of it, there was something like foreign matter mixed within the story that constituted him.

Poseidon ran his tongue over his cheeks and the roof of his mouth, like someone searching for foreign objects in their mouth. Was it just his imagination? Strangely enough, he suddenly felt the urge to play a recorder.

Thump.

It was then that the Round Table shook slightly. The vibration, initially faint, gradually grew stronger until it began to shake the entire table. Although it was merely the table shaking, the expressions on the faces of the mythical constellations were ominous.

This was because this 'Round Table' was the <Star Stream> itself.

The shaking of the Round Table meant that an event massive enough to threaten the destruction of the entire <Star Stream> had occurred.

And at this point, there was only one such event.

Following this, artifacts symbolizing constellations or incarnations appeared on the Round Table.

The first to catch the eye was an artifact bearing a sky-blue flag.

Having already descended upon the battlefield, he was moving somewhere.

That was not all. Flags appearing one after another on the Round Table were converging in one spot.

The mythical constellations, their expressions hardening, turned in unison toward one spot.

There stood the head of the noble King, his white flag fluttering.

Odin opened his mouth.

In the pitch-black darkness, Killer King looked up at the night sky shining through the gaps in his tent. Shooting stars were falling from the sky.

Killer King thought about the dying constellations. Stars that coveted human stories, unable to bear their inflated desires, and eventually fell from the sky.

Perhaps it is only natural for humans to gaze upon the tragedy in the heavens and find it beautiful.

"Kim Dokja."

Killer King called out the name of one of those stars. But the owner of the name gave no answer. This was because he had fallen from the sky long ago and was on the ground.

Killer King rose from his seat and checked Kim Dokja's breathing.

"I don't know what kind of dream you are having, but you must return now."

His breathing was normal, but Kim Dokja still showed no signs of waking up. Killer King looked down at him and muttered.

"Or perhaps this world right now is the dream you are having."

Looking at the face of the deeply sleeping Kim Dokja, Killer King recalled the moment he first met him.

A man with the same appearance as Kim Dokja. An incarnation who uses the same skills as Kim Dokja and tackles the scenarios in the same extraordinary way.

A perfect Kim Dokja, undeniably 'Kim Dokja' to anyone.

Nevertheless, every time he called him 'Kim Dokja', Killer King felt an inexplicable sense of guilt. This was because, inside him, 'Kim Dokja' took on the form of someone else.

A person who was a bit clumsy compared to the Kim Dokja he knew, easily flustered, and sometimes committed foolish acts.

Nevertheless, the person for whom the name 'Kim Dokja' suited him better than anyone else.

"Kim Dokja."

Without fully knowing who he was calling, Killer King called out that name once again. Then, a memory flashed through his mind like a hallucination.

The Kim Dokja standing before him had once said that to Killer King, who found it difficult to call him Kim Dokja.

When Killer King hesitated and asked back, Kim Dokja replied.

After a moment of silence, Kim Dokja added with a peculiar expression.

Killer King could not fathom what state of mind Kim Dokja was in as he said those words.

The Kim Dokja he knew always had other colleagues by his side. Han Sooyoung, Yoo Sangah, Jung Heewon, Lee Hyunsung, Lee Jihye, Kim Namwoon, Shin Yoosoung, Lee Gilyoung, and <Kim Dokja Company> were there. And Yoo Joonghyuk was there.

But who remains by Kim Dokja's side now?

"Oppa."

Killer King snapped out of his thoughts at his younger sibling's call. Cha Yerin was resting her hand on his shoulder.

After checking on the sleeping Kim Dokja, Cha Yerin let out a light sigh and immediately stated her purpose.

"There's a problem."

He didn't need to ask what the problem his sibling was talking about to be. Killer King had sensed it, too. He knew that an ominous energy had been gathering outside the barracks for some time.

Some energy was familiar, others unfamiliar. However, the momentum emanating from them was all similar.

"They've come."

"Yes."

Killer King gazed briefly at Kim Dokja, who remained asleep. Then, his question came to mind once again.

Perhaps it was time to answer that question now.