“They say it’s a corpse that doesn’t decay?”
“Does something like that actually exist in this world?”
Erne, who had been about to sit in an empty chair, froze at the voice of Ken, the iron-fisted fighter, as it brushed past his ear.
“What corpse?”
“Huh? Ah, the undecaying corpse?”
An undecaying corpse.
Erne was dying to demand to know where the corpse was right this moment, but he knew he’d look suspicious if he got too worked up.
So, masking his urgency with a calm expression, he asked lightly.
“An undecaying corpse? Is that even a real thing?”
“If it wasn’t, why would it be up for auction?”
“Auction?”
“Ah, our newbie here doesn’t know yet.”
The arena manager also operated an illegal auction house on the side. He often hired the fighters from the arena as security for these events.
Ken, who frequently worked at the auction house, had heard about the corpse while drinking with one of the staff members he’d befriended there.
“It’s going to be up for sale at the next auction, apparently.”
“How do you get into that auction?”
“As a guest?”
When Erne nodded, Ken scratched his head.
“You need an invitation. No idea how to get one, though.”
“Even if we knew, do you think guys like us could afford to buy anything there?”
Ken and another fighter laughed among themselves, joking that they’d have to be reborn to attend that auction as guests.
“The only way we’re getting into that auction is if we get a job there, newbie.”
“No, wait, that’s not quite right.”
Ken teased Erne, and another fighter snapped his fingers and chimed in.
“That skinny guy — if he wins again, it’ll be his fifth victory in a row, right? There’s a tradition that the boss buys a drink for anyone who wins five straight.”
“So what?”
“What do you mean, ‘so what’? If you get to have a drink with the boss, tell him you want to check out the auction house. Who knows? He might let you in just once.”
Just one more win — and Erne would reach five victories. It was the most realistic path right now to get close to the undecaying corpse.
An undecaying corpse. Was that also the work of the Followers? If he traced where the corpse came from, maybe he could find the cult’s base.
Even if not, he might at least discover the reason his own body hadn’t decayed.
That is, assuming it really was a genuine undecaying corpse. He had to see it with his own eyes to be sure.
***
The Next Day
“Hey, skinny guy—do your best today too, yeah?”
“Are you guys ever going to stop calling me that? Ugh, whatever.”
Shaking his head, Erne walked into the arena.
Outside, the announcer was shouting that betting would close soon and urging the crowd to hurry.
Leaning against a corner pillar, Erne scanned the audience with his eyes. He spotted a small head of dark brown hair tied tightly up in a bun.
That small head was weaving through the much bigger men, boldly placing her bets. As he watched her excitedly tossing her money around, the referee clapped his hands.
“Alright, get ready!”
Snapping out of it, Erne saw that his opponent was already warming up in the opposite corner. Erne started to rotate his shoulders to loosen up when suddenly—
A loud noise made him flinch.
“What was that?”
Erne’s eyes turned toward the entrance of the arena. The noise was getting louder and clearer now—and it became obvious what it was.
“Horse hooves…”
He wasn’t the only one who noticed. A few sharp-eyed individuals also froze, exchanging wary glances.
“I-It’s a raid!”
Someone, pale as a ghost, shouted. The entire arena erupted into chaos.
The thunder of hooves grew nearer, followed by crashing, banging—the unmistakable sounds of something being broken or trampled right nearby.
“Run!”
That cry was all it took. In a flash, everyone began scrambling toward the back exit. People collided, tripped over each other—total mayhem.
Erne immediately looked around for Judith.
“Damn it, where is she?”
Judith, instead of fleeing, was heading against the wave of panicked people. She was nearly knocked over as she struggled upstream through the stampede.
“Where the hell is she going?”
Damn it! Erne cursed under his breath and ran out of the ring. He pushed his way through the fleeing crowd and finally grabbed Judith by the arm.
“What are you doing? Come on!”
“Wait, over there! My money! It’s with him!”
Clutching her betting pouch at her side, Judith stomped her foot and pointed at a man sprinting away.
“Are you seriously thinking about money right now? If you fall here, you won’t even leave behind bones!”
And he wasn’t exaggerating—he meant it literally.
“Wait, Erne! My money! My mooooneeey!”
With Judith squirming and flailing, Erne practically hoisted her up and dashed toward the back exit. This had to be one of the most ridiculous experiences of his life.
Running away from a raid, carrying a woman, after participating in an illegal underground arena match. And now, guilt and shame hit him all at once.
“For f*’s sake!”
After bursting out through the back door with Judith tucked under his arm, Erne set her down and pulled her toward a different alley—away from where the law enforcers were pouring in.
He figured: If they just looked like an ordinary couple out on a walk, maybe they wouldn’t be suspected.
“Hook your arm in mine. Breathe. Walk like everything’s normal.”
As Erne took Judith’s arm and wrapped it around his own, a horse blocked their path.
“Stop right there. I saw you two coming out of the arena. Hands up and turn around.”
Erne was about to grab the horse’s reins and knock the rider off—until a familiar voice made him freeze.
Judith, still under Erne’s arm, seemed to recognize the voice too. Slowly, she looked up.
“…Sir Henry?”
On horseback, holding a drawn sword, stood Henry. Judith awkwardly smiled as their eyes met.
“Countess? Erne?”
Henry rubbed his eyes and looked again. There was no mistaking it—they looked exactly like people fleeing from an illegal fight.
Erne met Henry’s gaze midair. A long silence fell between them.
It was only a moment, but to Erne, it felt like an eternity.
Of all people, why did it have to be Henry?
Why, just why, him?
Shame and humiliation crashed down on him, leaving him speechless.
“Seriously, what in the world…”
“Erne, not only did you die and come back, now you’re pulling all kinds of stunts too.”
Henry was at a loss for words in more ways than one.
He sighed, ran a dry hand down his face, and then waved them in exasperation.
“Just go. Hurry up and go.”
Speechless, Erne simply picked Judith up and bolted. Henry watched his friend run off with a complicated, unreadable look in his eyes.
“…I actually spent gold coins to save that guy. Gold coins.”
***
“Tuck your lip back in.”
Erne clicked his tongue, watching Judith sulk with her lips jutting out in a pout. He leaned forward and gently pushed her lower lip back in place. The soft, squishy sensation of her lips wasn’t unpleasant—he pressed a couple more times just for good measure.
“Careful, or you might lose a finger.”
“Like you’d actually bite me. Come on, just let it go already.”
“How could I? We didn’t even get to see the outcome properly.”
“Let’s get the facts straight, Miss Harrington. We didn’t ‘break up’ with that money—you lost it. And it wasn’t even a loss, really.”
He was right. Judith had lost the last bet, but considering all the winnings before that, she hadn’t really taken a loss. She’d earned enough to pay off three months of interest, cover living expenses, and even buy ingredients for incense experiments.
Still, whenever she thought of the money she’d staked at the very end and failed to reclaim, her heart ached like she was nursing a heartbreak.
Even in the middle of eating or cleaning, the memory of that vanished money would randomly stab at her like a dull ache.
If she followed her instincts, she’d already be dragging Erne to another gambling arena.
But—
“Don’t even say the word ‘arena.’ Say it again, and I swear—divorce.”
Erne visibly flinched at the word. The trauma of running from a raid and then having Henry catch him had apparently hit him harder than expected.
“Try earning money by working hard for once.”
“That’s ironic, coming from you, Erne.”
Who was the one loafing around all this time again?
“Relax your forehead. You’ll get wrinkles.”
When Judith glared sharply at Erne, he reached out and gently pressed down the furrow in her brow, smoothing it out. She batted his hand away and asked.
“But Erne, didn’t you say you were going to see an undecaying corpse today?”
***
They almost had to change the plan in the middle, but—
Erne successfully infiltrated the auction house.
Thanks to Iron Fist Ken, he managed to get a one-day job there.
When Erne explained the situation and said he had to go to work, Judith was delighted.
“Finally! A husband with a paycheck!”
“It’s just for one day.”
“Tch. Would’ve been nice if it were permanent.”
Like hell he’d work just to make her happy. Still, for a brief moment, Judith seemed genuinely pleased that Erne had gotten a job.
But oddly enough, this time, Erne didn’t want to give her what she wanted.
Instead of indulging her, he found it more amusing to say something like, “You’re the one feeding me—why should I be the one earning wages?” and watch her lips pout in protest.
Anyway, Erne managed to secure the position of guarding the auctioneer—which meant he could get up close and personal with the auction goods.
Before the auction began, the auctioneer insisted on inspecting the goods and led Erne to the storage room.
They looked at a string of odd, outrageously expensive items until finally, Erne stood before ‘it.’
“And now, today’s highlight! The undecaying corpse!”
Before them stood an old, weathered wooden coffin, exuding the passage of time.
The excited auctioneer clapped his hands twice, and two workers lifted the lid.
Creak—
With an unpleasant screech, the coffin lid opened.
Even though it wasn’t hastily done, dust immediately puffed out in a thick cloud from within.
“Ugh, so dusty.”
The air was so stiflingly thick with dust that even Erne, covering his nose and mouth with a black cloth, had to cough several times.
Only after the dense dust settled was he finally able to peer inside the coffin—
And there, he saw it.
