Global Descent: I Alone Can See Hidden Evolution Paths

Chapter 57: let us stay

Min-jae sat on the large, matte-black leather sofa in the center of the room. He had finally unsealed his heavy, light-absorbing dark armor, leaving him in a simple, loose black cotton shirt and dark trousers. Without the massive pauldrons and glowing runes obscuring his frame, he looked younger, his lean, athletic build visible under the soft fabric.

He leaned his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes. His fingers, still slightly calloused from holding the hilt of his claymore, twitched slightly against his thigh. He was tracking his internal system logs, but for the first time since the Descent began, his mind felt exhausted.

A soft, rhythmic clicking sound approached from the kitchen bay.

"You’re overthinking the numbers again," Major General Shin Ye-rin said quietly.

She walked into the lounge area, carrying two simple ceramic mugs. She had taken off her formal military coat, wearing only her tailored olive-drab uniform shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, revealing her slender, pale forearms. Her short black hair was slightly damp, framing her face in a neat, asymmetrical bob.

She stopped beside the sofa, offering one of the mugs to him. The scent of hot water steeped with wild mint leaves drifted into the air.

Min-jae opened his eyes, looking up at her deadpan, steady expression. He reached out and took the mug, his fingers brushing against hers for a split second. Her skin was cool, a sharp contrast to the lingering solar heat radiating from his own palms.

"Thanks," Min-jae murmured, taking a slow sip. The sharp, clean taste of the mint cut through the stale metallic taste of mana that had been coating his throat since the morning. "What’s the terminal showing?"

"The sector is completely silent," Ye-rin said, sitting down on the edge of the adjacent glass coffee table, facing him. She rested her hands on her knees, her gray eyes studying his face with an intense, quiet focus. "The local corporate syndicates have pulled their scouts back into their subterranean vaults. Seeing an elite vanguard fleet get turned into ash in three seconds has completely broken their willingness to probe our borders. We have a clear twelve-hour window."

Min-jae let out a short, quiet breath that was almost a chuckle. "They’re smart. If they don’t hit the wall, the wall doesn’t hit back."

"But you’re still waiting for the other shoe to drop," Ye-rin stated smoothly. She leaned forward slightly, her serious, disciplined demeanor softening just a fraction. "Min-jae, when we were standing on the viewing platform earlier... when that forty-thousand-man armada opened fire... you dropped the fortress shields completely. You didn’t even check the kinetic displacement parameters."

"I didn’t need to," Min-jae said, his voice dropping into a low baritone. He looked down at the dark liquid in his mug. "The system logic is invariant, Ye-rin. The raw damage they throw at me is just data. The armor negates it, and the talent reflects it. It’s an equation."

"To the system, it’s an equation," Ye-rin countered softly, her voice carrying a rare, raw emotion that she usually kept buried beneath her military rank. She reached out, her fingers lightly resting on his forearm, her grip surprisingly firm. "But to us, watching from the command console... it looks like you’re standing alone in front of a firing squad every single time. Ji-a almost broke her spear shaft just gripping it while she watched that explosion swallow your position. We don’t like being cargo, Min-jae. We don’t like standing behind an unmoving wall if it means we just watch you absorb a world’s hatred."

Min-jae looked at her hand on his arm, then up at her gray eyes. For a veteran regressor who had spent his past life being backstabbed and abandoned by corporate factions, looking at a woman who was genuinely angry because she wanted to protect him completely short-circuited his cold, analytical focus. A faint, noticeable flush crept up his neck beneath his collar, and he looked away slightly, clearing his throat.

"The reflection loop requires direct contact," Min-jae explained, his usual dominant tone cracking with a brief, human embarrassment. "If any of you take the hit, the true damage multiplier doesn’t trigger. It’s just the most efficient path."

"Efficiency is for supply lines, not for family," a soft, melodious voice chimed from the darkness of the corridor.

Han Seo-yoon stepped into the warm glow of the lounge lamps. The platinum-blonde heiress had completely discarded her silver tactical gown, wearing a loose, flowing white silk lounging robe that highlighted her soft, voluptuous curves. Her large sapphire-blue eyes were remarkably gentle as she walked over to the sofa, sitting directly beside his right side. Without asking, she slid her slender arms around his right arm, pulling his gauntlet-free hand against her chest, leaning her head softly against his shoulder.

"Seo-yoon," Min-jae murmured, his body freezing slightly as the fragrant scent of her hair filled his senses. His ears burned a bit deeper.

"Let us stay like this for a bit," Seo-yoon whispered, her long blonde lashes fluttering as she closed her eyes, holding him tightly. "When the sky turned black today, I felt so small, Min-jae. I spent my whole life thinking my family’s wealth could buy safety, but the system proved that everything can turn into ash in a second. The only place in this entire world that feels real... is right here beside you."

From the adjacent gantry, the heavy sliding doors of the inner sanctuary remained locked, the green light of Liu Xiao’s nature cocoon pulsing quietly behind the glass panels, safely storing her power for her eventual awakening. But inside the room, the circle was tightening.

The soft rustle of silk fabric drew Min-jae’s eyes toward the balcony entrance.

Gu Bylai stood in the doorway, the cool night breeze lifting the long, billowy selves. The pale ice-blue and white silk tulle drifted gracefully around her voluptuous silhouette, her narrow waist bound tightly by a soft, pale-purple belt. Her flawless porcelain face was completely devoid of any cosmetics, displaying an image of natural, noble innocence that looked entirely out of this world. Her alluring, icy-blue eyes locked onto Min-jae’s flustered expression, a deep, sultry crimson blush creeping up her own cheeks.

She didn’t have the territorial familiarity of Ji-a or the old-world history of Seo-yoon. She was an ancient goddess who had just been pulled from a crumbling sanctuary. Yet, looking at the casual, domestic warmth of the human lounge, her proud, distant demeanor completely melted away.

She walked over with a hesitant, heavy grace, sitting quietly at the edge of the sofa near his knees. Her long, silk-covered legs lightly brushed against his boots as she looked up at him through her lashes, her pouty violet lips slightly parted.

"In the fourth sky, we only knew the cold," Gu Bylai said softly, her voice sounding like a delicate chime of frozen glass. She hesitantly reached out, her small, pale hand resting gently over his left hand, which was resting on the leather cushion. "We measured our lives by remaining mana pools and territorial barriers. But sitting here... looking at the way they hold you... I realize my lineage wasn’t broken because I lost my sector. It was broken because I didn’t have a hearth to guard."

She looked straight into his deep black eyes, her grip tightening around his fingers, her heart racing violently against her ribs. "If your ledger requires an unmoving wall, Monarch... then let my ice anchor the foundation beneath your feet. I am no longer a goddess of a dead realm. My future belongs to your room."

Min-jae sat perfectly still, caught between the tight, warm embrace of Seo-yoon on his right, the steady, intense gaze of Ye-rin directly in front of him, and the soft, trembling touch of the beautiful Ice Goddess on his left. The cold, ruthless mastermind who had just deleted an entire planetary armada was completely gone, replaced by a quiet, thoroughly flustered young man who didn’t pull his hands away from either of them.

The domestic harmony of the palace lounge settled into a deep, unbreakable rhythm. Min-jae looked up at the starlight humming above the open-air ceiling, a quiet, genuine smile finally touching his face. Let the higher heavens plan their next execution run.