"Ahh… h—" Rian forced a breath.
"You can do it! Show some more strength, Rian," Yurim called, her voice oddly bright for the moment.
Rian grunted, shoulders burning. "You're so heavy…" he muttered between breaths, pushing at the back of the truck with all he had.
The engine coughed once — then roared back to life.
"It started… good boy," said the old man from the driver's window, his wrinkled face soft with a kind smile.
––
"You were right. He's just a sweet old man," Yurim murmured later, munching on the fruit the man had given them.
Rian nodded, still panting, sweat clinging to his neck. "I thought we'd have to run again…" he said quietly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Yurim's eyes darted around suddenly, worry filling her face. "Where's Yunho? Where did he go?"
––
Yunho, meanwhile, was still trapped in the chaos of the market. "Let me go!" he hissed, shoving away the grasping hands that reeked of sweat and fury.
"He helped that human girl escape! Catch him!" one of the pursuers shouted, rallying others with anger.
"W-what? Don't even—" Yunho began, but a fist struck his face. He stumbled, blood trickling near his lip as more figures closed in.
Then — "Stop!"
The command sliced through the noise.
An old woman stepped forward, her posture regal, her voice sharp and steady. "He did nothing wrong. Don't touch him."
"Old woman, stay out of this!" one growled.
"If you touch him again, I'll call the guards," she warned, eyes blazing. "You'll learn what it means to lay hands on a schoolboy."
The group froze. Murmurs broke out. No one dared move under her stare.
Yunho stood still, chest heaving. "Thank you, ma'am," he said, bowing low.
The woman smiled gently. "It's fine, dear. You seem like a kind boy. Why don't you come to my house for tea? I'll clean that bruise."
"N-no thank you, I'm late for school," Yunho stammered, backing away. He gave an awkward nod before sprinting off.
The woman's smile lingered — then slowly twisted. Warmth drained from her eyes, replaced by something dark, empty.
"You must offer a pure soul like him," a whisper curled in her mind — the same low, haunting voice from before.
The woman's expression stiffened. "Yes… I will," she murmured, her tone hollow.
––
"It's been too long… why isn't the old man stopping? How far does he live?" Yurim asked, leaning forward to peek toward the front.
Rian glanced at the driver's seat, where the old man's back was just visible. "It's almost evening," he said quietly. "We've come far from the city."
The dirt road behind them shimmered under the golden light — like a sea of fire stretching endlessly. The further they went, the quieter it became. Even the wind felt strange, heavier.
The truck rattled along until it turned into a narrow lane surrounded by trees and old houses.
"This place feels…" Yurim began, but before she could finish, the truck gave a sudden jolt. The engine sputtered and went silent.
The old man stepped out slowly. "We've reached my house, kids," he said warmly.
Yurim and Rian climbed down from the truck.
Before them stood an old house with two floors — its wooden walls faded and cracked, the windows half-covered in dust. There wasn't another house in sight. Only endless fields and trees whispering in the soft evening wind.
"It's… quiet here," Yurim murmured, her gaze tracing the outline of the old fence and the faint smoke curling from the chimney. The air smelled faintly of wet earth and dry grass — peaceful, yet strangely hollow.
The old man smiled kindly, his shadow long in the golden light. "Come, come. You must be tired. I'll prepare something warm for you."
Rian hesitated, his tone cautious. "We should probably head back soon…"
But Yurim, too tired to argue, followed the man toward the front door.
The wooden floor creaked beneath their feet as they stepped inside. The air was cool, filled with the faint scent of herbs and old wood.
The old man sat down near a low table and gestured. "Sit, children. You've come a long way."
Yurim nodded politely and sat across from him, Rian beside her.
Just then, a voice called out from the hallway — gentle and relieved.
"Grandfather, you're back!"