Chapter 69: I can’t swim
Falling face-first into the sea, the icy shock of the water seized Cheon Areum’s lungs before he could even gasp. The moment his body hit the surface, it plunged deeper, clothes dragging like anchors, and bubbles rushed past his ears in a dull sound.
He opened his eyes, salt stinging them to blink repeatedly, and flailed his limbs—desperately trying to replicate the swimming techniques he’d memorized through lectures and videos. He knew the theory, had watched enough tutorials to teach it himself. But his frail body had never been strong enough to actually try, and it showed. No matter how much he kicked, no matter how perfectly his arms cut through the water, he wasn’t rising—he either sank deeper or remained stubbornly suspended in place.
Cheon Areum instantly stopped struggling, abandoning the futile attempt to swim. If his limbs wouldn’t take him up, then he’d just use his abilities. Letting his body sink deeper into the cold, murky water, he closed his eyes and focused.
The sea around him wasn’t charged with much negativity—it was calm, far too pure to respond easily. But that wasn’t a problem. He could be the source of the negative energy. Cheon Areum released his own negative energy, letting it bleed into the surrounding water like squid ink spreading in water. The temperature seemed to drop further as the water darkened around him, the gentle current reacted to him.
Cheon Areum manipulated the shifting currents, forcing them to carry him upward. The further he rose, the more control he regained. Just before his consciousness faltered, his head broke the surface of the water, and the first gasp of air tore through his chest.
Cheon Areum gripped the splintered edge of the wooden dock as he pulled himself up with effort, water cascading off his drenched clothes and hair, pooling beneath him as he dragged his body out of the sea.
"Kegh—! Hkk—! Guhh...!"
Collapsing onto the dock, he hunched over, coughing violently as his lungs fought to expel the water. Each ragged breath was followed by another harsh cough until a small stream of seawater finally escaped from his mouth, splattering onto the worn wood. The salty air stung his throat and eyes, but it was better than drowning. His soaked clothes clung tightly to his skin, the cold wind biting through the fabric.
He had skipped to the gate to run from the cold wind of the rainy weather only to be drenched in even colder seawater and experience the shivering wind blow at him again. Cheon Areum weakly looked up to find his human blanket, but the whole beach was empty besides him—no one else was there.
Ah... not this again.