As the sun dipped low and dyed the sky blood-red, Guest arrived at the edge of the village. Walking along the narrow path between the rice paddies, a shabby tavern came into view near the center. A wooden sign with 'Mountain Village Tavern' scrawled in crooked letters creaked in the wind.

The smell of soup drifted from inside—a savory aroma of soybean paste and meat. Pushing the door open, a few tables sat lonely on the empty wooden floor. Yu-hwa, who was wringing out a rag in the corner, looked up.