Chapter Text
Everything that lives must eventually die.
Nothing in this world lasts forever.
Those words are a cliché, and everyone knows them.
Even those who pursue immortality are destined to die in the end.
◍◍◍◍◍◍◍◍◍
The White Star—Cale Barrow—reflected on everything he had strived for over the past thousand years to achieve immortality.
Unfortunately, it had all been thwarted in just a few short years by a man named Cale Henituse.
Naturally, he was frustrated!
But never mind that. There was no point in lamenting it now.
To be honest, he was also quite curious about what death—and the afterlife—would be like. He had never truly died before, and he didn't hold out much hope for heaven.
Yet, they say Hell is the place where one pays for the sins committed while alive—a place to be cleansed of those transgressions.
And the White Star had lived far too long to even remember all the sins he had committed.
Still, if he were allowed to hope... if he could reincarnate just once more without having to steal from others... he would want to be a better person—albeit one with a dash of villainy.
Well, that was his established image, after all, and he quite enjoyed his role as a villain.
And so, somehow, the White Star was able to accept his defeat and his death with peace.
◍◍◍◍◍◍◍◍◍
The war was over.
The White Star was dead.
The resurrection of the Sealed God had been thwarted, and the issue with the Hunters had been resolved.
Peace had returned to the world—though that didn't mean other crimes had vanished entirely.
Cale Henituse—war hero, the King's right-hand man, and former commander of the Roan Empire—could finally retire in peace.
It was time for him to reap the rewards of all his hard work.
Cale spent his retirement doing absolutely nothing but lazing about with his entire family.
The only productive activity he engaged in was gardening with his hyungs.
With all the wealth he possessed, he need not worry about poverty for the next seven generations. It wasn't that he intended to marry or anything of the sort. Rather, his vast fortune served as a guarantee for his ever-expanding family.
As the years rolled by, the curse of immortality that had bound Choi Han slowly began to fade.
He started to age just like any ordinary human being—a change that everyone welcomed.
Then, one by one, death came for them—starting with Ron.
Grief was inevitable whenever a death occurred.
Everyone is destined to die, yet there was no reason for them not to accept it.
It was simply the law of nature.
And when Cale’s own turn finally arrived, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction with all he had achieved. Naturally, he was saddened to leave behind his children and those blessed with long lives, but he felt absolutely no fear.
Just as Choi Han had departed peacefully, Cale, too, passed away with a heart warmed by the affection of those around him.
He delivered his final message—urging everyone to live their lives well—before closing his eyes for the last time.
The final sounds he heard were the sobs of his children and the wishes for a peaceful rest from the two hyungs he had always been able to rely on. He was certain that everyone would faithfully his final wishes.
◍◍◍◍◍◍◍◍◍
On Earth, Kim Rok Soo—formerly known as Cale Henituse—met the same fate.
The gradual decline in monster appearances significantly eased the burden on Team 1. This allowed everyone to live more relaxed lives while rebuilding Korea into a peaceful and stable nation.
Rok Soo took early retirement just as his niece was entering middle school.
He wanted to spend more time with her. He didn't want her to feel lonely at home or lose the sense of having a parental figure because he was too busy working.
With his savings and monthly pension, Rok Soo didn't have to worry about falling into poverty in the coming decades. Besides, he still possessed a vast amount of gold from the special pouch Cale had given him.
He could always sell it to cover his niece's financial needs when she grew up.
The body he inhabited was remarkable, yet he was aging, and the physical toll of his experiences weighed increasingly heavily upon him.
Sometimes, Rok Soo would wake up suffering from vertigo or migraines.
His body felt heavy, and he tired easily throughout the day.
He also frequently experienced back pain or tightness in his chest.
Whenever these moments occurred, he was always grateful that he had taken early retirement.
His life as Kim Rok Soo was deeply fulfilling.
He knew death was closing in, and he felt a pang of sadness at the thought of leaving his niece—who had grown into an elegant, beautiful woman, just as she appeared in his memories.
Yet, he knew he could not ask for more than this.
The agreement he had made with the God of Death had been fully honored.
He could not afford to be greedy. He ought to be deeply satisfied simply to have served as the guardian walking his niece down the aisle at her wedding.
His beautiful niece looked so elegant in her white gown.
She held his arm tightly, wearing a calm expression to mask her nervousness as they walked past the altar toward the groom, who was waiting before the officiant.
Seeing the resemblance between his niece's future husband and his own father in his past life, Rok Soo couldn't bring himself to make things difficult for the man when he came to ask for his blessing.
Yet, the way the man stood his ground—demonstrating such steadfastness and sincerity—put Rok Soo at ease once again.
At the very least, he knew his niece wouldn't be left alone when his own time eventually came.
Their wedding went off without a hitch, filled with joy thanks to the enthusiasm of the guests—all of whom were old acquaintances.
In his final moments, he was surrounded by his niece—now a mother to two sweet, well-mannered children.
They all wept until their faces were puffy and blotchy—a sight that, for some reason, gave Rok Soo a sense of satisfaction.
Truly, he harbored no regrets about the selfish decision he had made to strike that deal all those years ago.
And that night, Kim Rok Soo passed away at the age of sixty-five, free of any regrets. He closed his eyes for the last time in the embrace of his niece and her sweet children, accompanied by the sound of his nephew-in-law sobbing just as hysterically nearby.
◍◍◍◍◍◍◍◍◍
Three souls who finally found a peaceful end to their long journeys.
Three souls who received the favor of different gods.
Three souls who, somehow, became targets of misfortune.
Three souls who never expected to meet one another, coming from worlds vastly different from the ones they had known before.
Three souls bound by the threads of fate, now sharing the same blood ties.
Both Cale and the White Star screamed the moment they saw each other's faces.
After all, who wouldn't scream if forced to look at the face that caused them such trauma?
That face was practically a completely unexpected jumpscare!
Especially since it was the very first thing they saw upon opening their eyes.
Cale quickly composed himself, masking his shock with a calm expression. He clicked his tongue loudly while staring at the White Star, who was staring right back at him.
The first thing they noticed was their appearance—they looked like eight-year-olds, with chubby, soft faces so adorable they made one want to pinch the other's cheeks.
"Are you really Cale Henituse?"
"Who else would it be but me, you old radish?"
"... Do you realize you look exactly like me?"
"... What?"
Without thinking, Cale touched his face and looked around for a mirror but couldn't find one—until a small hand held up a large shard of glass from below.
Cale took it with a word of thanks, not bothering to notice the White Star’s face, which was shriveling up like a withered radish.
The face staring back at him from the glass was one he knew all too well.
It was his own face from when he was Kim Rok Soo; he looked exactly like his eight-year-old self. The only difference was his hair, which was now red—a shade slightly darker than the White Star's.
All in all, he bore a striking 90% resemblance to that radish bastard.
"Damn it. This has to be the work of those bastard gods again!"
He couldn't help but curse the gods, who had undoubtedly messed up yet again.
He was about to put the shard of the mirror back when he noticed White Star’s face contort; looking down, he fell silent and furrowed his brows just as his rival had done.
The reason was the presence of another figure standing between the two of them—who had just been arguing.
A small body, red hair as the color of a sunset, rust-colored eyes matching his own, and a face far softer and more beautiful than their own handsome features.
Cale and White Star shared the exact same realization.
White Star knew he was a transmigrator, and he also knew that the original Cale Henituse had taken over the body as Kim Rok Soo.
Thus, it was easy for them to recognize the child gazing up at them.
"Cale Henituse/Kim Rok Soo?"
They spoke in unison, causing the child to flinch before nodding at them.
"...It's me, and... you two look so much alike."
Kim Rok Soo—or the original Cale Henituse's—words caused Cale and White Star to instinctively lock eyes and snort in disgust at the same time.
"Don't compare me to that !"
"...."
Kim Rok Soo could only fall silent at their synchronized reaction.
Honestly, it had been terrifying to wake up and see two White Stars. However, upon realizing that one of them was the Cale Henituse—or original Kim Rok Soo—he felt an immediate sense of relief.
He ignored the two men who had resumed their bickering and tried to move, only to realize something.
He couldn't move.
It felt as though his body was completely stuck to the floor where he sat.
Not only that, but a dull throbbing in his left hand made him realize he was injured.
He was bleeding heavily enough that a pool of blood was forming around the shards of glass nearby.
Was it normal for an eight-year-old to bleed this much from a mere scratch caused by glass?
"Uh... Ca—"
Rok Soo was about to call out to Cale for help when panicked voices were heard from outside.
It wasn't just him; the two others who had previously been arguing also immediately turned their attention to the closed door.
Within just a few brief moments, the door burst open, and several people rushed into the room in a panic.
A young man wearing glasses and a waiter's uniform instantly swept his gaze across the room, before fixing it directly on Rok Soo, who was still sitting on the floor.
His face instantly turned pale upon seeing the pool of blood and the shattered fragments beside him.
"Young Master Cale!"
The young man—whose name, according to their memories, appeared to be Joyce—moved with incredible speed.
He closed the distance in six long strides, ignoring how the three of them flinched at his sudden movement.
He then crouched down to examine Rok Soo’s injured hand before immediately scooping the small boy up into a comfortable, child-friendly hold.
"Call the family doctor right away! Someone clean up this broken glass before anyone else gets hurt."
After issuing firm orders, Joyce checked Rok Soo’s hand again and muttered as he walked away.
"Goodness, the bleeding still won't stop."
The sight of the trickling blood made Cale and White Star realize what had happened to Rok Soo.
Memories from their new bodies began to surface, making them both tense up, neither dared to make a sound. They could only watch as Rok Soo stood there passively, gazing back at them with an equally tense expression.
One by one, the people who had entered began to leave after the remaining glass shards were cleared away. This left behind the two small redheads—busy trying to make sense of the situation—and a middle-aged servant named Robert, who had been watching them the entire time.
The quiet aura radiating from him reminded Cale, for some reason, of a certain Assassin.
"Throwing a fragile object and then shoving your brother toward the shards—that crossed the line, Young Master Barrow.
By the Great Lord's order, you are forbidden from leaving your room or seeing Young Master Cale until he returns next week.
And Young Master Rok Soo, you are strictly forbidden from interfering this time.
I will escort you to your room."
Cale—who was now Rok Soo again—and White Star—officially addressed as Barrow—looked at each other.
They both blinked in response to the decision that had been handed down.
After all, they did need time to fully grasp their current situation. Rok Soo left Barrow’s room with Robert.
Meanwhile, Barrow turned his face away, acting as though he didn't care about what had just transpired.
As it turned out, they didn't have to wait a full week to meet up and compare the conclusions they had reached.
That very night, they met at a familiar office, greeted awkwardly by the god who truly deserved the title of the most useless among them.
