Childhood Friend of the Zenith Novel MTL - Chapter 939

Chapter 939

The air inside the teahouse turned sharp and dense.

“Have you ever heard of a way to journey backward or forward in time?”

I had aimed for a tone of calm inquiry, but from the way the turtle’s breath hitched and his expression shifted, my question had struck a different chord entirely.

A faint shiver traveled through the length of his beard.

Though his eyes were narrowed and partly hidden, their focus was undeniably fixed on me; even the staff he held trembled in his grasp.

The turtle, who had earlier shown only minor annoyance, was now a completely different person.

Had I misstepped? As I watched him quietly, he finally broke his prolonged silence.

“What… what was that you just said?”

Was he feigning deafness? Or pretending not to comprehend? Regardless, I asked again.

“I asked if you know of any method to travel to the past or the future.”

Hearing the question repeated, the turtle’s eyebrows jerked violently.

“Why would you ask something like that?”

His words and his reaction gave me pause.

That response…

“Does that mean it’s possible?”

If it weren’t, a simple ‘no’ would have sufficed. His wariness implied that such a thing did, in fact, exist.

Yet, it was equally clear he had no desire to speak of it.

“I was merely curious.”
“Yours is a… strange curiosity.”
“Well, you employ such extraordinary arts. I wondered if something like that might also be possible. A passing thought.”

I tried to play it off as a casual remark, but the turtle’s response was anything but light.

“Then curb your curiosity.”
“Pardon?”

His voice was uncharacteristically grave and weighted.

“Even if there is a future you wish to see, do not seek it. And if there is a past you regret, let it remain a regret.”
“…”

I shifted my posture slightly, leaning forward to show I was listening intently.

“Time is as it is. It flows, and it must be allowed to flow. What has passed cannot be reclaimed. That is the nature of time.”
“…You speak with great conviction on this.”
“Even so.”

Tap. Tap.

The turtle absently drummed his fingers on the table.

“If you are pursuing anything related to this, abandon the thought. It is a futile endeavor.”
“Why is that?”
“Because there is no obsession more pointless or more cruel.”
“…”

An obsession that was both meaningless and cruel? It was a perspective I had never before considered.

I let the faint smile fade from my lips. “How can you be so sure?”

What gives you such certainty? That was the question hanging in the air.

The dim light in his eyes seemed less like someone recounting a story and more like someone speaking from personal experience.

“Do you know what becomes of those who fixate on such things?”

The turtle posed the question to me directly.

“I do not. I am not one of them. What happens to them?”

I answered his question with one of my own, and he provided his reply.

“They are torn apart—utterly.”
“…I beg your pardon?”

Torn apart? It was a disturbing thing to say.

“…Physically?”
“No. Their souls.”
“Ah, I see.”

Relieved it wasn’t a physical rending, I let out a quiet breath, but the turtle, hearing it, clicked his tongue in clear disapproval.

“Do you think it fortunate that it is only the soul?”
“Well, it isn’t a bodily injury, so I thought it might be… less severe.”
“It would be far preferable to endure it physically. Having your soul torn apart is a far more hellish fate.”
“…”

The concept of a soul being shredded… It was obvious the turtle considered it a matter of incomparable gravity.

Still, with so little to go on, it was difficult for me to truly comprehend.

“…So you are saying this obsession is a bad idea?”
“If you are eager to be ripped to pieces, by all means, proceed.”
“My apologies, but that is not my preference.”

Who would enjoy being torn apart? Perhaps such people existed, but I was certainly not among them.

“Hm.”

I mentally sorted through his words. The most crucial point to note wasn’t anything else:

“So, he does know something about it.”

It was evident the turtle possessed knowledge on this subject.

“Then, are you saying no one has ever achieved it without having their soul torn apart?”

I took a sip of tea as I asked.

“…You are full of useless questions.”
“It’s something I’ve wondered about. And since we are speaking of it, why not share? We do have a connection, after all.”
“And what connection is that?”
“A perfectly balanced, transactional relationship between two unrelated individuals.”
“…”
“We give and take what is owed. Is that not clean and simple?”
“Not a trace of sentiment in this arrangement, is there?”
“You could call it a tidy agreement. So, why not tell me comfortably?”
“Why? Are you planning to attempt it if it is possible?”

The turtle watched me with suspicion, and his question made me chuckle.

“No, I have no such intention. I doubt I ever will.”

At this point, I wasn’t interested. Perhaps in a former life, but not now.

“If I have already lived through it, why would I want to do it again?”

If given the chance to reverse time, could it truly be called an opportunity? Perhaps things could be different. But…

“To go through the same hell again would be unendurable.”

To return to a world where those who know me now would remember nothing, where I’d have to start over from nothing and strive for a different outcome, exhausting myself in the process.

Once was hell enough. To endure it again? I could not.

Even so, I was curious.

“Even if I have no intention of trying, I can still be curious,” I said.
“Such contradictory words,” the turtle muttered, glowering at me with distaste.

Did he plan to share nothing? It felt like pressing further might be pointless. Just as I considered changing the subject, he finally spoke.

“It is impossible.”

“Impossible?”
“Yes. It is absolutely impossible to avoid having your soul torn apart, and even if you endure it, no one has ever succeeded.”
“Why is that?”
“Because no being can withstand both the process and the outcome.”

His voice was firm, carrying an unshakable finality.

“Even if one were to offer the accumulated karma of their very soul, piercing the heavens, their soul would still be torn apart and cast aside. To achieve the result while keeping one’s soul intact? Such arrogance is absurd.”

His words, tinged with a faint sorrow, made me frown.

“So, you are saying it is possible if someone makes a sacrifice?”
“…Are you incapable of comprehension?”
“No, I understand. From what you’ve said, it seems a method exists to attempt it, but…”

I paused.

“Even if the method is there, no one can endure it and remain whole, correct?”
“…”
“Did I understand you rightly?”

My direct question was met with silence. As always, his silence was an affirmation.

“Hm.”

He crossed his arms, tilting his head from side to side. There was still something I needed to ask.

“Elder.”

“…What is it?”

“What if it is possible?”

“What?”

“No, the subject we were discussing earlier. What if someone succeeded?”

“I told you, it is impossible.”

“But it remains a possibility, doesn’t it? You cannot know every working of the world.”

“…What exactly are you trying to hear?”

“Precisely what I said. If someone succeeded…”

“That will never happen.”

Bang!

The turtle slammed his staff against the floor. The impact sent a ripple through the space, making the surroundings waver as if seen through water.

The once-calm teahouse began to distort and melt away, as though it were dissolving.

Frowning at the sudden change in atmosphere, I looked around.

“Leave,” the turtle said.

“Excuse me?”

“I said, leave.”

“But I haven’t finished my questions…”

We hadn’t even begun to discuss the crucial incantations, and now he was ejecting me?

“At the very least, I have no wish to continue this conversation with you today.”

“What are you—”

“If you refuse to leave, I will make you. Is that what you want?”

Creak…

The space around us continued to twist and warp. The turtle’s eyes darkened, and in that moment, I felt a profoundly alien sensation radiating from him.

Buzz.

The five rings coiled around my heart shuddered violently.

It was as if they were sounding a warning.

“…”

Sensing this, I stared at the turtle in silence for a moment before rising to my feet.

“That won’t be necessary. I will see myself out.”

Staying any longer would only worsen the tension. I had clearly struck a nerve.

“…”

The turtle tapped the floor lightly with his staff once more.

The rippling space stabilized almost instantly, as if nothing had ever happened.

“I have not forgotten the transaction we discussed. Return another time.”

“…When, exactly, should that be?”

“Who knows.”

The turtle turned his gaze toward me and offered a final remark.

“You will know when the time comes.”

“…”

Those were his last words. Seeing that he would speak no further, I turned and walked out.

“Hm…”

Scratching my head, I let out a sigh.

I’d thought I might learn something useful about regression, but it seemed I would not.

‘…Or perhaps I did. I didn’t leave with nothing.’

One thing was certain: the turtle knew something. And from his revelations, there was a barrier—something that made reversing time an impossibility.

That, at least, I could take with me.

“…But it is not impossible.”

In the end, regression exists. It is not merely a rumor.

How could I not know? I had lived it.

The turtle claimed it was absolutely impossible, yet standing before him was living proof to the contrary.

I had regressed.
And that made me all the more curious.

‘The turtle said that even with a tremendous sacrifice, reversing time is impossible.’

Which meant…

‘If you offer something of far greater value, doesn’t that mean it *is* possible?’

I didn’t know what that method might be, or what needed to be offered. But if the sacrifice held sufficient worth, wouldn’t regression be achievable?

That was how I interpreted it.

“…”

Lost in thought, I flexed my fingers absently. Then, mid-stride, I suddenly halted.

A figure was walking toward me.

A familiar face with empty eyes. They glanced around, as if searching for someone.

It was Cheonma.

She moved lightly, scanning her surroundings, and when her eyes found me, she waved.

“Oh, there you are.”

“…”

It seemed she had been looking for me. Confirming this, I furrowed my brow.

‘Regression doesn’t come without a price.’

If that was true…

‘What did you give up?’

What did Cheonma sacrifice to make my regression possible?

And furthermore…

‘Why?’

Why did she regress me? What was she trying to achieve? What was her purpose?

Ever since I realized Cheonma was the one who orchestrated my regression, I had wondered.

I wondered still, even now, as time continued to flow onward.