The S-Classes That I Raised - Chapter 485: The Hosts

I deliberately closed my eyes and opened them again slowly. Chatterbox gave no reaction.

‘The Harmless King wouldn’t have lied.’

This must be a powerless simulacrum of Chatterbox. One who can’t even recognize what the Harmless King left me. I loosened my grip slightly on the emergency bell.

The recruit had guaranteed safety, but there was still an if. Press the bell and Yuhyun, Yerim, and Noah would be alerted. Yuhyun and Noah were in the Haeyeon building and the breeding center building respectively, and Yerim was in the pen with Mar. All three—especially Yerim—would arrive instantly. The bell was sentient, and Grace was even in my inventory, so I needed every precaution.

“I bear no ill will toward you. Not yet, anyway.”

I spoke lightly. Though Chatterbox had aided the Harmless King, I held no feelings even for the King himself. After all, I had slain him with my own hand, and I was grateful for what he’d left behind.

“You simply insist on taking revenge unilaterally. I find that unjust.”

I stared straight into the mask’s eyeholes. Beyond them was only darkness. Were there even eyes behind the mask? A strange black mist swirled. Without resistance to fear, I would have been chilled to the bone.

Chatterbox slowly raised one gloved hand. Unlike the hallucination in the letter, the white glove looked ordinary. His true form wasn’t here anyway—he could change his appearance at will. He smoothed the layered red frill of his necktie.

“Do you call that a misunderstanding?”

His tone was surprisingly polite, making it even more ominous. Calm lunatics tend to be the most dangerous.

“Even if the Harmless King’s strength waned, I am weaker still. As you see, my stats are F-rank.”

He spread both arms slightly.

“The Cursed Venom Dragon King was dealt with by the Mermaid Queen. I merely happened upon his mana core.”

Impossible and absurd. So let us admit it and return things to normal. Stopping a dungeon is no great feat. The Waxing Moon issue remained, but even Chatterbox’s assistance would suffice.

“The Harmless King was also slain by other transcendants—past and present overlapped, and ancient transcendants intervened. There were two: one a horse-bodied being, the other a tiger or cat.”

Not a bloody lie. Past and present had overlapped, transcendants had appeared. And the Harmless King died by my hand thanks to the changeling power—Diarma’s lineage. So ultimately the King died because of transcendants. Seong Hyunjae was complicit too.

“If those two transcendants live, why not blame them?”

Don’t target an innocent F-rank. The mask’s mouth still smiled, but its eyeholes revealed nothing. Though it was only a mask, of course.

“If you surrender your memories, we can verify the truth.”

“I value privacy too much for that. Think sensibly. Or…”

He paused, then continued.

“Do you not care for truth? You simply—”

“I will hold a funeral.”

Chatterbox’s voice rose.

“At the place she stayed last, filling it with mourners. What are your funeral customs? I will do what my beloved mist would enjoy. And for the finale—”

Long legs climbed onto the table. As if pulled by strings, Chatterbox’s form slid over and stood directly before me, toes almost touching. His torso bowed to me with polite ceremony.

“What do you cherish most? Still that sister?”

The low whisper chilled my heart. Funerals are for those left behind. As the Harmless King had said.

“Nonsense.”

Truth did not matter to Chatterbox. The King died here, and I was present. That alone sufficed. Sufficient for a funeral.

“Everyone values themselves above all.”

I smiled gently.

“Just as Chatterbox holds a funeral instead of catching the real culprit.”

Leaning fully into the sofa’s back, I raised one hand. A cube materialized on my palm. The mask’s dark haze rippled toward it.

“The Harmless King’s Drawer.”

“The Harmless King’s Drawer.”

Our voices spoke in unison. Was he recognizing it? Merely a guess, perhaps.

“I am the current owner of this drawer.”

Silence greeted that fact. The Harmless King had directly entrusted me with his drawer. I slowly straightened, pressing my back into the sofa. The mask and my face drew closer.

“She said to me: I was so happy.”

Not a breath stirred.

“In purest white form. Hair like drifting waves, fins like petals. Amidst scattered mist she smiled.”

His chest under the white shirt did not rise.

“She looked at me one last time, smiled at me, and spoke her final words only to me.”

If this funeral was for Chatterbox, not for the King—

“Tell me your name. And she did. Han Yujin. And she told me—”

I whispered to non-existent ears.

“Luga Feiya.”

At her end Chatterbox was absent. Only Han Yujin reflected in Luga Feiya’s eyes. I quietly lifted the corner of my mouth.

“I still do not know your name, Chatterbox.”

Luga Feiya had not told me. Had not mentioned it. Left no will, no legacy. Only I had received it. Not Chatterbox.

I leaned back into the sofa. Chatterbox remained motionless, as if frozen. Then the mask’s mouth widened—smiling broadly. The red interior was exposed, with no tongue or throat—only red.

“You, the youngest of the severed maze, wizard with the cage. Qui Os Sanus.”

A faint excitement tinged his ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ voice.

“Chatterbox—who would have thought to hear such a name? The maze is silent, the wizard conceals secrets. But my beloved mist—”

Low laughter drifted from behind the mask.

“Was endlessly greedy. For Luga Feiya I told many tales. We held tea parties and danced—delicately for one so easily bored. The mist sought me often, pleading for aid, chatting merrily—then whoosh, slipping between fingers.”

Because mist cannot be bound.

“My cage is sturdy and beautiful, yet riddled with gaps.”

“So it was an aquarium. Yet still fake, still imprisonment.”

Chatterbox’s hand reached out. Unable to evade, it touched my face.

“I am Chatterbox.”

He defined himself—abandoning past selves, shaped to the Harmless King.

“You were the last thing she saw.”

His voice calmed once more, and the gaping mouth closed. His other hand reached toward mine holding the drawer. Reflexively I stored it in my inventory—he caught my wrist. His grip was not strong; I was simply weaker.

“You touched it. Of course you did. If you pleased her enough to share your name and drawer, you must have examined every corner.”

The gloved hand traced my cheek and wiped my neck—like inspecting merchandise. The other hand touched my forearm, elbow, elsewhere. My emergency-bell hand twitched. Chatterbox smiled knowingly.

“Will you ask for help?”

His tone sounded curious who might come. He likely knew my allies by now. And the conversation was not yet over.

The black eyeholes gazed into me. I could not read them, but the warmth felt unsettling.

“My mist’s legacy to me.”

…A mad being. I had partly guided his reaction, but I hadn’t expected him to speak so plainly.

“I must preserve it as much as possible. Where did you touch me? Whisper in my ear? Hair, eyes—more is allowed. She had long hair. Dye it snow-white, carve an extra eye. Fins and tentacles.”

“Truly insane. Planning another aquarium?”

“You are not mist, so a cage suffices. After the funeral, I will take it.”

“By whose permission?”

“Han Yujin cherishes herself little, after all.”

The mask flared its sneer.

“You claim self is most precious, yet you offer yourself as bait, never asking for aid.”

“…This was merely a meeting to talk—why ask for aid?”

The hand moved from my shoulder to my nape, pressing gently beneath my ear. A burnish bloomed.

“Our promise.”

“A very faint power. Grade F, perhaps. Equal to Han Yujin’s, so I have not broken it.”

Only difficult to erase, Chatterbox whispered as his finger slid down my neck.

“A mark that you are my guest. Even without an invite, you are welcome.”

“…How kind of you.”

“As agreed, your safety at the party is guaranteed. This is a contract between transcendants. Until the party ends, I will not harm Han Yujin.”

Meaning the real action begins when the funeral ends. I grasped Chatterbox’s wrist as his hand withdrew. The palm beneath felt cool.

“You know my meaning, so I’ll tell you—if you want to keep me safe, don’t touch those around me. I will tolerate using hunters, but if you act personally, I will destroy the drawer first.”

I did not think I’d lose to a human hunter; at least I could preserve my life. And he wouldn’t dare attack us directly. Chatterbox tilted his head slightly.

“Does Han Yujin hate herself?”

“Hate? No. She simply will try every card she can play.”

In any case, Chatterbox had invoked transcendants to guarantee the party’s safety. A pact between two forces was now in place—I could rest easy for the moment.

“When does the party start?”

“If you wish, I can adjust to your schedule.”

“How gracious. I’d like more invites too.”

“I have none left to send. Alas.”

Then I’d have to get them from Park Hayul or the gathered hunters.

“I intend to hold a small gathering before your party, Chatterbox.”

I spoke further with him. Scheduling was easy. Chatterbox remained courteous and kind throughout—though that kindness was for Luga Feiya’s memory, not for Han Yujin personally.

“Keep your body intact.”

With that unsettling farewell, Chatterbox vanished. I exhaled a long sigh. Though we’d only talked, exhaustion flooded me as if I’d run all day.

“…They’ll hate this when they hear it.”

He asked if I hated myself. I’d gotten a self-love lecture from a mad transcendant. The absurdity of my situation stung. Still…

‘I’ll just smoke one.’

After brushing and showering, I thought no mask would notice. Despite feeling wrong, I pulled a cigarette case from my inventory. But—

“No lighter.”

I had carried fire tools pre-rebirth for dungeon runs, but no longer needed them. I returned the case to the inventory. Instead, I took out my phone and called.

“Yuhyun, you free?”

[Yeah. What’s up?]

“I just wanted to see you.”

Silly after seeing him this morning, yet he said he’d come right away. I stood, donned Grace, and faced the bathroom mirror. From just below my ear to my nape, a crimson trace was clear—like a lettered mark.

“…I’m too lazy to explain. What did you do?”

I couldn’t hide it. I lightly traced the mark. I sensed mana… drawing mine up to overlay it, the mark vanished. Or rather remained, yet invisible.

“Hyung.”

Yuhyun arrived. He frowned, stepped forward, and reached out.

“What’s this?”

“Oh. You see it?”

“Faintly.”

“…I can’t.”

“With this level of mana, S-ranks can. It feels like a low-grade concealment skill. What happened?”

“It’s like Chatterbox’s invite. He says I can just attend.”

I told him there was nothing more—Chatterbox guaranteed our safety.

“I tried telling him I didn’t kill the Harmless King, but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Then shouldn’t you skip it?”

“I must prepare for the end of the party. I can’t be caught unaware.”

I looked up at my brother.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Why would you apologize to me?”

“…Right. The breeding-center gathering will proceed as planned. We coordinated with Chatterbox, so we can formally send invites.”

First I’d handle the urgent tasks. There were still mountains to climb.

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