All My Murim Noonas Are Obsessed With Me!-Chapter 79: My Boy? Your Boy? Whose Boy? (2)

I omitted my plan to target him and explained.

"...It could work. Gates aren’t common in the Central Plains—they’d have no countermeasures."

"Right? I’ll adjust coordinates; you handle the rest."

"Alright... The sooner we finish, the less repair costs..."

As we modified the magic circle, the clashing swords faded. I glanced over—Soyeon, the red-eyed woman, looked exhausted. She’s probably my kin. I grumbled about whoever failed to manage her. My role was funds and intel, not raising troops.

The other woman, dominating the fight—his original companion, Soyeon’s master—spoke.

"You seem exhausted—how about we stop? You know further fighting is pointless, Soyeon."

Wow, now she says that?

After crushing her, now she wants peace? She was no ordinary lunatic either.

+

Han Soyeon’s POV

"Stop... you say...?"

"I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Soyeon."

"Ha... ha..."

Ridiculous. If I’d known I’d awaken to this truth, staying dead might’ve been better. Yuseong and Master—together like that.

Stagger.

My body barely held up. I’d poured every ounce of emotion into attacking Master, yet not a scratch marred her. At best, her clothes tore slightly. Her protective aura didn’t crack.

Damn it...

Even with this new energy, the gap was insurmountable. Why was I brought back? I’d lived to reclaim Yuseong, but he was in the hands of someone beyond my reach.

"...I want to touch Yuseong."

The words forced through a mouth that barely moved.

"...You’re not going to do what you did before—"

"No. I just... want to apologize."

I’d heard it all. My destruction of his dantian led to their intimacy. It tore at me, but what’s done was done. At least... he’ll remember me, right? Even in a bad way, if he remembered me for life, I’d be happy.

Calm down.

There’d be chances. Master had a head start, but I could bide my time. Yuseong, awakened to pleasure, might crave multiple women.

Grind.

Fine—a thousand concessions—I could tolerate Master. Her youthful appearance hid a grandmotherly age gap. She could touch him, but never connect emotionally. Me? The age difference, ignoring my death, was negligible. Yuseong was grown. Unlike Master’s rigid values, I’d do anything he wanted—lick his feet, his private parts, bark, crawl. To make him mine, resolving old grudges came first.

"...Alright."

With Master’s permission, I approached Yuseong, sprawled on the ground.

"Yuseong..."

"Eek...!"

Tremble, tremble.

Reeking of alcohol, he curled up, clutching his head. Suppressing the urge to rip off his cloak and climb atop him, I knelt.

"Yuseong... It’s your big sister... Han Soyeon... You remember me, right...? I’m so sorry for everything..."

My emotions churned, but the apology was as sincere as I could manage. I still wondered if destroying his dantian was necessary. There could’ve been other ways to make him remember me. How hard it must’ve been.

"Because your big sister... lost her mind... she hurt you so much... I’m so sorr—"

Tears blurred my vision, the fog in my mind lifting. Let’s start fresh. Apologize, give him anything he wanted. And then—

"...Who’s that...?"

Crack.

"Yuseong...?"

Impossible. He didn’t remember me.

"Y-Yuseong. You’re joking, right? I’m not in the mood for jokes. Say it’s a joke. Hurry. You couldn’t have forgotten me."

Shake, shake.

I grabbed his collar, shaking him. Was it his body trembling or my pupils? Nothing felt still. My heart pounded, vision narrowed, awareness shrinking to only him. I couldn’t hear Master.

Say something, Yuseong. You didn’t forget me... right?

With trembling lips, I urged the dazed Yuseong.

"Yuseong... Yuseong... Yuseong..."

"Ughhh..."

He swayed, groaning. Waiting for his answer—

"I said, who are you...?"

Crack.

His words betrayed me. I turned to Master, silent, demanding an explanation.

"...Come to think of it, I forgot to mention."

Her expression stiffened.

Gulp.

She swallowed, nervous, before continuing.

"There was an accident. The root cause of why I had to... treat him. The shock from that incident caused him to lose some past memories."

"..."

Silence. No thoughts formed. I’d scarred Yuseong to make him remember me forever, paying with my life. That scar led Master to take his first experience. And he’d forgotten me.

What had I done this for?

"Ah..."

Emptiness. No other word fit.

"Ahh... ahhh..."

Words failed. My mind stalled, unsure what to do, say, think. Everything crumbled. The foothold keeping me from the abyss vanished.

Rumble.

My eyes lost light, my body went limp.

"S-Soyeon! Snap out of it!"

Master’s urgent voice.

"W-Was it that big a shock that he forgot you?!"

"It was... everything to me..."

"T-Think differently! What you did to him won’t disappear, but he doesn’t remember it—so you can start anew!"

"Start... anew..."

Yes. Not a bad suggestion. I caressed Yuseong’s cheek. His aged skin felt firm, soft.

"Yuseong... You forgot your big sister, huh..."

"Who’s big sister...?"

"Big sister...? Um... Someone who really loves you...?"

Touching him calmed me. Master was right. I loved Yuseong, wanted to be with him. If he remembered me, obstacles would’ve blocked us. His amnesia was better—he wouldn’t recall my actions.

But...

"Your big sister doesn’t want that."

Shing!

I lifted my sword.

+

Han Soyeon’s POV

I gripped the sword, its weight a cold comfort in my trembling hand. It wasn’t a blade that could reach Master—but it could reach Yuseong. It could reach us.

"Let’s die together," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the storm in my heart.

In a world where Yuseong no longer remembered me, what was the point of living? If death could bring back his memories, if it could bind us forever, then so be it. I would carve that eternity with my own hands.

Before Yuseong could react, I lunged, the blade aimed precisely at his neck. I wanted it to be swift, painless—a clean strike to usher him into death’s embrace alongside me.

"You couldn’t come to your senses until the very end!" Master’s voice thundered, her eyes blazing with fury.

In an instant, the sword was wrenched from my grasp by her unseen force. Her arm locked around me, dragging me back, thwarting my desperate act. I thrashed against her hold, my screams tearing through the air.

"Yuseong! Yuseong!" My voice cracked, raw with anguish.

"I believed in you until the end, and yet...!" Master’s words roared from behind, but my eyes were fixed on Yuseong, his figure blurring in my fading vision.

She was stopping me. Holding me back. Keeping me from him.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

It had to be now. This was my second chance at life, hard-won and fragile. If I couldn’t reach Yuseong now, when would I? I couldn’t let it end like this, with nothing gained.

A familiar pressure bloomed in my chest—a sensation I’d felt before, the creeping numbness of struck pressure points. Unlike last time, I had only one arm now, and Master’s grip was unyielding. Breaking free, as I once had, was impossible. 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝙬𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝒎

"Yuseong..." My voice dwindled to a whisper as my vision darkened.

In that fading moment, I saw him—Yuseong, overlaid with memories of a distant past.

Then—

Rumble, rumble, rumble.

A tremor shook my body, an ominous pulse from within.

BOOM!

A surge of blood-red energy erupted, flooding the air around me. Where my severed arm had been, a crimson limb now stood, seamless and unnatural, as if it had always been part of me.

+

Roselia’s POV

I kept my eyes on the two women, my hands working feverishly to complete the magic circle. When the disciple first raised her sword toward the man, my heart screamed in panic.

You madwoman, why would you kill him?

All my effort was for one purpose: to taste that man’s power just once. If he died, everything I’d worked for would crumble to nothing. But thankfully, the master intervened, her movements swift and precise. She disarmed her disciple and restrained her in a heartbeat, her skill so fluid it almost felt rehearsed.

"She must’ve subdued her so easily because the disciple wore herself out thrashing," I muttered.

"Probably," my companion agreed. "Otherwise, it’d be too unfair for us."

We clung to that explanation. If the master could’ve stopped her sooner but chose not to, we’d be the ones left with a wrecked tavern and a mountain of repair costs. The thought sparked a flicker of suspicion—she wouldn’t have let her rampage just to spite us, would she?

The doubt gnawed at me, but I pushed it aside. The master had struck her disciple’s pressure points with deft fingers, sending the girl’s body limp. I hadn’t recognized the technique at first, but its effect was clear.

"It’s called pressure point striking," my companion explained. "Most martial artists learn it to some degree."

"Fascinating," I murmured, though my mind was elsewhere.

"If the fight’s over, does that mean we can stop drawing this circle?" she asked.

I froze. She thought the magic circle was just to deal with those women—she didn’t know my true plan. Whether they fought or not, I needed to send them both far away.

"W-Well, you see..." I stammered, scrambling for an excuse.

BOOM!

A crimson explosion cut through my thoughts. Blood-red energy surged from the disciple we’d thought subdued, shrouding her in a dark, malevolent aura. When the haze cleared, she stood transformed, a new arm—crimson and unnatural—sprouting where her missing one had been.

A chill crawled up my spine, goosebumps prickling my skin.