Outside the treasure chambers, a guard stood watch when someone suddenly approached him.
Without a word, the stranger held out a slip of paper.
Only one question was written on it:
"Where is Mr. Hoseok?"
The guard looked up—
It was Haru.
"Ah… yes. Mr. Hoseok is in the chamber just ahead," the guard replied, straightening respectfully.
Haru gave a slight nod and began walking toward the room.
"Wait—!" the guard called out from behind.
Haru paused but did not turn.
"My apologies for stopping you… but I do hope your journey here was a pleasant one," the guard added.
A brief silence followed.
Then Haru turned back and gave a calm smile to the guard while nodding his head.
Reaching the door, he knocked.
"Enter." Mr. Hoseok's voice came from within, calm yet carrying an unspoken weight.
Haru pushed the door open just enough to peer inside.
Mr. Hoseok sat there, still engrossed in the same book he had taken from Mr. Kim's library.
"Ah, Haru—come in," he said, looking up. "What brings you here today?"
Haru stepped inside and took a seat beside him.
Without hesitation, he reached into his bag and pulled out several sheets of paper—
as though every word, every detail… had already been carefully prepared in advance.
With that, Haru placed the paper before him.
"Mr. Hoseok… I am aware that you have traveled across many kingdoms. Among all of us, you possess the deepest knowledge—not only of this realm, but of the others as well. I want you to tell me everything… so that I may record it in my book."
Mr. Hoseok let out a soft, almost amused breath.
"A book, you say? And about our kingdom, no less… that is quite something."
His gaze lowered briefly to the pages, then drifted elsewhere—far beyond the walls of the chamber, as though chasing echoes of something long gone.
"What could I possibly tell you, Haru?" he murmured, his voice quieter now. "What exists today… lies plainly before your eyes."
He paused.
"But what has already passed…"
A faint shadow crossed his expression.
"…what you have never seen—what perhaps no one has truly seen…"
His fingers lightly brushed the edge of the papers.
"Even those who witnessed it… may not have understood it at all."
The words Haru had so carefully written beforehand no longer felt like questions.
Not after that answer.
A faint crease formed between his brows, confusion flickering across his face—clear, unguarded. He hadn't expected this… not from Mr. Hoseok.
"Ah… it seems I may have troubled you," Mr. Hoseok said lightly, a faint smile touching his lips. "I was merely speaking in passing."
Haru shook his head in quiet denial.
Without another word, he reached into his bag and pulled out a fresh sheet of paper. His pen moved swiftly, as though chasing a thought that refused to settle.
When he was done, he placed it before Mr. Hoseok.
Mr. Hoseok's eyes lowered to read:
"What is it that we do not know… yet those who do know consider it the same? I want to understand."
For a moment, the room fell into a deeper silence than before—
the kind that feels less like absence of sound… and more like the presence of something unseen.
Mr. Hoseok did not answer immediately.
His gaze lingered on the question, as if weighing not the words… but the consequences of answering them.
"Has it never stirred a question within your heart," Mr. Hoseok began slowly, his voice measured, "why our King never had a chronicle written of his own kingdom?"
His gaze lifted, steady and searching.
"He could have, if he had wished. He could have recorded the age of his reign… preserved it for those who would come after."
A brief pause followed, heavy with implication.
"And yet—he never did."
Mr. Hoseok exhaled softly, his expression unreadable.
"Some say he intended to… but that death came for him too soon, stealing the time he needed to see it done."
His eyes drifted away, distant—almost doubtful.
"But those are merely their thoughts… their assumptions."
Another silence settled between them.
The kind that carried a question far more dangerous than the one spoken aloud.
Haru slowly shook his head in quiet denial—
as though admitting that the thought had crossed his mind… yet never deeply enough to question it.
Mr. Hoseok studied his expression for a moment, as if reading the silence behind it.
Then, at last, he spoke—his voice softer now, yet carrying something far heavier beneath it.
"I am searching for something…"
He paused, his gaze drifting into the distance.
"…though I do not even know what it is."
A faint, almost bitter smile touched his lips.
"A person… a truth… something no one knows—or perhaps something that does not even exist at all."
The words lingered in the air, uncertain… yet unsettlingly real.
"If I ever reach it…" he continued quietly,
"…then perhaps I will tell you."
His eyes shifted back to Haru, steady now.
"Or perhaps… it is something we will all come to understand on our own."
Mr. Hoseok's gaze slowly fell to his hands, his fingers curling slightly as if holding onto a thought he could not release.
He drew in a long, measured breath—
as though he was about to say something… something important.
But the words never came.
For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if whatever weighed upon his mind was not meant to be spoken—
or perhaps… not meant for Haru to hear.
And then—
A sudden, forceful knock echoed against the door.
Mr. Hoseok's gaze slowly fell to his hands, his fingers curling slightly as if holding onto a thought he could not release.
He drew in a long, measured breath—
as though he was about to say something… something important.
But the words never came.
For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if whatever weighed upon his mind was not meant to be spoken—
or perhaps… not meant for Haru to hear.
And then—
A sudden, forceful knock echoed against the door.
Mr. Hoseok's gaze slowly fell to his hands, his fingers curling slightly as if holding onto a thought he could not release.
He drew in a long, measured breath—
as though he was about to say something… something important.
But the words never came.
For a fleeting moment, it seemed as if whatever weighed upon his mind was not meant to be spoken—
or perhaps… not meant for Haru to hear.
And then—
A sudden, forceful knock echoed against the door.
And then—
Knock. Knock. Knock