“Master...”
With just a blink of an eye, Seo-a found herself standing at her master's final moments. She buried her head in front of her, who had lost an arm, and wept, then took out the key she had kept hidden away.
"I'm going even if you don't tell me. I have to go. You know that."
The master, who had been closing her eyes as if dead, immediately opened them and spoke.
"No."
Then, maintaining an attitude so clear that it was hard to believe she was a dying man, she explained why she shouldn't go.
Even as she did so, blood flowed and leaked from where the arm had been severed. Seo-a pulled a white cloth as thick as a blanket, wrapped it around the leaking spot, and pressed it down. She wondered if doing so would kill her, if the master would leave like her grandfather.
"Stop it and listen to me."
Red blood flowed through the tightly bound cloth. It was painful just to watch, yet the person shedding the blood seemed completely unfazed.
"It's bleeding like this, so stop it."
"Stop it. Listen to me properly first."
As she did so, she placed her hand on Seo-a's cheek, and that hand was as cold as ice. The only hand she had left was as cold as the hand of a dead person.
Eventually, Seo-a burst into tears. Tears poured out as much as on the day her grandfather passed away.
“How am I here?”
How can I live without Grandpa and you?
At that, she, who had told her to stop and listen to her, closed her mouth. Then, with eyes as deep and beautiful as lush green foliage, she took her in endlessly, again and again. It was a day when her true feelings were unfathomable, as always, but Seo-a sensed that she was in despair.
Despairing over and over again, she shed tears she had never shown before and opened her mouth.
"...The key. Two people are seeking that key. One is that guy, and the other is the only knife that can kill him."
"Who is that? Where do I need to go? I'll take the key to that person myself..."
"No!"
Even as she lay dying, her master let out a loud scream and earnestly urged Seo-a to listen carefully, emphasizing that the order must never be changed. Then, she told her the only way to retrieve Grandfather's remains and the only way to find the man known as Father.
Go straight to the Royal Felphe Bank. Obtain the Certificate of Key Holder at all costs.
"And then that man, and the knife to kill that guy, will come looking for you..."
Her speech, which had been flowing clearly and distinctly, suddenly trailed off.
“Master!”
When Seo-a called out in surprise, the eyes that had momentarily gone dazed returned to normal.
"Remember this well. The person you have to follow is..."
Then, as if nothing had happened, it became empty again.
Tears poured down. Seo-a hugged her master tightly. She didn't know her body, which had always been so strong, was so cold.
Don't die. Don't leave me behind and go like this.
She repeated the same words over and over again, when a weak hand touched her back and withdrew. At the same time, her final voice reached her ears.
"Wolf.... A wolf is coming."
To kill him, and eventually to kill you.....
The empty words, filled with tears, ultimately faded away without reaching a conclusion.
Is it because I saw my teacher for the first time in a long while?
Is it because I happened to see the very end, rather than the good memories?
It felt as if she could hear tightly suppressed sobs from afar, as if sharing in her sorrow. It also sounded like a groan.
"Uh, uh-huh, uh-huh."
Behind the crying that sounded as if terrified or in pain, a cold voice followed, devoid of even a shred of mercy.
"You can't get up even though the scheduled time has passed."
"O-o-One minute! One minute has passed! P-Please wait just a little longer..."
"Cut off one finger."
"Aaaargh! Wait, wait!"
The problem was that the content of the conversation was too eerie, and the sensations around her felt closer to reality than a dream.
Even the hazy light felt beyond closed eyelids, the bustling footsteps pounding on the eardrums, and the occasional movement of the air touching bare skin.
"Please wait just a little longer. Stay awake!"
"Awake, you fucking idiot. If she's awake, she's awake. What do you mean by 'still awake'? So why do you keep giving medicine to someone who's just minding their own business?"
She doesn't think this is a dream.
And the moment she realized that fact, reality rushed in as if the heavens and earth were turned upside down.
Where am I?
Who are those people? Why am I lying here? I mean, I.....
Her heart, which had been beating slowly, thumped, and her palms became wet.
She was suddenly terrified because she couldn't easily figure out what was going on. It was just as she was deciding that it would be better to pretend she hadn't woken up yet and observe the situation a little longer.
"Isn't there any medicine to wake her up?"
The moment a single remark someone casually spat out was tossed onto the surface of her memory, memories she hadn't even realized were welling up flooded in.
"Let's eat. It's just right to eat at this level."
Memories that had sunk beneath the surface surged uncontrollably. The pouring memories dragged the body into that moment. There was no resistance, nor could any stop it.
A strange sensation, as if a layer had been superimposed over all her senses, the laughter of a demonic being. The feeling of being crushed on the bed, a body as helpless as an insect, the lukewarm liquid flowing through her parted lips, and the touch of a hand climbing up her thigh.
All of that suddenly surged over her consciousness like rushing water in a valley. Her throat tightened. Unlike then, even though all her senses were clear, she could not move easily.
"Huh, uh..."
"Huh? Senior! She's awake!"
A startled voice burrowed into her eardrums like background, but that was all. Seo-a trembled at the feeling that the world, contracted like a narrow tube, was rushing toward her. Even when she breathed, she lacked air, and pitch-black darkness was visible even beneath the hazy light.
A black darkness with no front or back hung over the consciousness.
"What's wrong? Are you sure she's awake?"
Her body shakes violently. Even as the world projected onto her retina shook haphazardly, her consciousness was groping in the darkness.
The smell that burrowed into the tip of her nose, the acrid red light, and the man standing diagonally by the door...
“Do you want to do more?”
Come to think of it now, the lips holding the cigarette seemed to curl up smoothly. With those smiling lips, he lit another cigarette.
"If you want to do more, I'll wait a bit."
He was relaxed as if violence in the darkness were no big deal, and she was terrified of it.
The despair and fear of that moment chillingly gripped her heart. So she prayed desperately. Please, don't leave me abandoned in this darkness. Please, help me.
"Help me, help me..."
Meanwhile, Simon, who thought he could breathe a sigh of relief now that the woman had opened her eyes for a moment, felt his patience hit rock bottom the moment she appeared to lose consciousness.
The owner of the brothel, whose day had turned into the worst day of her life, thought she wished she would just die the moment she met Simon, who was staring at her intently.
Simon strode over to the trembling woman and roughly grabbed her to her feet. Then, pushing her toward the bed, he gave an order.
"Take responsibility. If her mind is broken, one finger won't be enough."
The brothel owner burst into tears as she looked at the woman who was completely dazed.
Help me, don't abandon me, please help me.
The woman was endlessly muttering the same words. Her eyes gaping blankly, tears streaming down, and even her fists clenched so tightly they turned white.
It felt like she had seen it before, and it also felt like a scene she had experienced.
She gasped for breath and crawled onto the bed. Then, she grabbed the woman's hand, which was stiff and trembling, and lowered her head.
"I'm sorry."
"..."
"I'm sorry. I was wrong."
"...Help me, don't abandon me..."
A voice filled with despair holds the fear of last night intact.
The brothel owner lifted the body of the woman she had tried to ruin with her own hands and held her tightly in her arms. Smiling, she stroked her frail back over and over again, stroking it as if begging for forgiveness.
"I'm sorry, miss, I'm sorry."
It could have been a desperate struggle to survive, or a shred of conscience buried deep down. Or perhaps it was an instinct to follow the devil's command to take responsibility.
Whatever the reason, even as she choked up and choked back sobs, she could not let go of her frail body that seemed on the verge of collapse.
She hugged her small back and told her to come out of there, saying it was all in the past. She shared her warmth while spouting sophistry that she hadn't done it out of ill will.
"I'm sorry, miss. I was wrong. I'm sorry."
However, Simon’s reaction to seeing that was beyond cynical—it was horrific.
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