A death could mean many things. 

It could mean sorrow. It could mean sadness. It could mean regret. It could mean a last chance. It could mean a crossroads. 

It could also mean weakness. A chance. A chance for the Japanese to attack.

The Japanese saw that chance. As usual, the ninja were already marching towards the mourning capital city. They’d attack swiftly, silently, before anyone noticed anything. This was their style. Take out the target when all variables posing a threat were eliminated.

But this time, he had failed to notice a variable. A variable which took the form of Jurchen soldiers, strong, loud and angry. At the front was a chief-like character, tight lipped and scarlet faced. In his hand was a gigantic knife, which had the Japanese start to doubt whether or not this was a fair fight.

Chief Wanyan gave a bellow, and an unexpected fight started between the Japanese and the Jurchen. It was so comedic, for this fight to be totally stupid. They were not attacker and defender, nor were they sworn enemies, yet because of chance and schemed words, the Jurchen found themselves hacking through ninjas, and the Japanese slicing through warriors. It was a ridiculous fight. 

The Japanese were caught surprised, but they did their best to fend of the Jurchen attackers.

Killing two birds with one stone. That’s how clever the Joseon plan was. 

At first, Hyebin’s death did not mean anything. Maybe the maids wept in the corners, or the servants would cry at night, but no actual significance was seen until a few days later.

Then it happened.

Soldiers and guards began to run away, fearful that they’d be at the receiving end of Sejong’s anger. An untrue rumour leaked that Sejong had killed some maids, and soon even the servants had leaped over the palace walls. Slaves fought their way to the key room, and the key masters had no choice but to free them. 200 people had escaped in just one week.

With the palace staff reduced to a handful, the depression spread to the royals. Sejong’s concubines locked themselves in their rooms, and some lords and nobles went back to their own lands to deal with the southern rebels. Soon, the once busy palace quieted down, with the occasional chirping of the royal pets. Ironically, the birds and monkeys were not affected. They were somewhat furless, but they still chirped happily.

Jane and Nancy were assigned a big room, but they hadn’t the heart to appreciate it. They sat down in the plushy pillows, and played about with their fluffy toys, but everything reminded them of their dire situation.

They remembered everything. Deaths. Screams. Not on the battlefield itself, but also on the streets. Widows who hung themselves when their husbands died on the field. Parents who went crazy when news of their son’s death arrived. People who threw themselves on corpses. Just like Yeonwoo unnie. 

War was cruel. Some call it ‘God’s calling’, to somewhat beautify it. People were wiped off the face of the earth, just like that, for reasons that hardly mattered. It portrayed itself as a just cause, but war was never just. It was ugly. It scarred the minds of children. It broke the minds of widows. It drove the minds of families crazy. 

Looking at their loved ones’ corpses, marred with sword and arrow wounds, flooded with blood and gore, body parts missing, hands twisted and fingers rotting, was the most evil torture ever introduced to mankind.

History only remembered the soldiers. They did not remember the people behind the soldiers. The people who suffered living hell. The people who endured every day, with all those painful memories. 

And now, sitting under the roof of the palace, two girls started to remember those people.

Under the ground, in the river of hell, two people were sitting on a boat, casually fishing. A girl stood on the river bank, looking at them. It seemed like she did not know what to do.

A bridge appeared, and the duo stepped out of the boat, heading towards the girl.

“Lee Hyebin.” Kwan Jiyong, grim reaper, hell ambassador, pronounced. “Your life, unfortunately, is at an end.”

“You can choose,” Choi Seunghyun, with the same job, said, “your path. Will it be a trial of fire, or will it be normal reincarnation which many people have chosen? You now face a crossroad after death.”

“I...” A tough question, Hyebin thought. “Can I wait? For a time period?”

“Depends.” Jiyong scratched his head. “How long do you plan to wait?”

“Until my adopted sister’s death.” Hyebin replied. “I want to say a few words.”

“Hm. Interesting. Most interesting indeed.” Jiyong leaned out of the boat. “What say I offer you a deal.”

“A deal?” Hyebin asked. “With the devil?”

“Ha. Pretty much the same. What I mean is, that, you become a grim reaper with us.” Jiyong smiled his vampiric smile. “It’s kind of boring with only Seunghyun for company. Having three in the gang would be nice."

"Do I even know you?" Hyebin folded he