ETVC C36

Chapter 36

〈Ah…〉

In contrast, the boy stood cloaked in shadow. The gulf between them, never to be closed, tormented him with unbearable fury. The air itself convulsed, and the monster—so full of mocking leisure moments before—thrashed in sudden agitation.

Baek Soohyuk wielded the power he had just attained with the ease of one born to it, as though instinct itself guided him. The boy could only gape, eyes darting between him and his bleeding mother. Something within him crumbled, silent and irrevocable.

〈Are you well?〉

Having dispatched the monster in an instant, Soohyuk bore the woman to the boy and put the question to him. Yet no answer came.

〈We must call for aid.〉

Soohyuk was brave, and strong, and steadfast. And for the first time, the boy loathed him for it. For in Soohyuk’s strength he saw only a mirror, reflecting his own frailty in cruel clarity. And in that mirror, the young Woojin’s face brimmed with contemptible weakness.

〈Brother?〉

What he felt was none other than envy, sour and biting.

“Ahh—!”

I woke with a cry, torn from the dream. Yet the scenes of gore and ruin clung to me as though I had brought them back into waking. Blood slicked the floor, a headless corpse rolled across the ground.

“Ugh…”

The figure of Woojin’s mother lay there, a phantom of the dead, her sightless eyes fixed upon me with wordless reproach. Cold sweat traced down my skin with sickening vividness.

“Brother?”

As in the dream, Soohyuk’s voice called me. Strictly speaking, in the dream it had been Woojin he had summoned, but now it was me.

“Was it another nightmare?”

He rose swiftly from the folding bed and came to me. For an instant, the young Soohyuk’s face overlapped his own. And then—the corpse’s lips twisted into a smile. Horror iced my blood.

Smack.

“Stay away. Do not lay a hand on me.”

I struck aside his hand before it could touch me. The brush of skin was unbearable.

This is not my emotion.

The hatred—no, the self-loathing that gleamed in his eyes, mirrored back at me—belonged not to me, but to the body’s true master. Yet I could not master it.

“What is amiss?”

This nightmare was unlike the last. It was not a fleeting vision, but painfully vivid, as though I myself were Woojin.

“Wait here.”

Soohyuk hurriedly left, flinging the door open. Only then did I feel the breath return to me. Meow roused, pressing his head against my hand as though to comfort me.

“Drink.”

Soohyuk soon returned with a cup of water. Though I had cast him off with cruelty, he acted as though nothing were amiss.

“Do not weep.”

Still trembling, I drank. In reason, I knew these were not my memories. I ought to treat them as one treats a horror film—frightening, but nothing more. Yet my body defied reason.

Just as I draw nearer to him, this happens.

The unseen force that set these quests seemed to desire that I grow close to Soohyuk—yet in truth, the world itself seemed bent on sundering us. Each time the distance shrank, some warning intervened.

His face only calls the nightmare back to me.

At his sight, guilt and sorrow surged upon me as though my own. And so, I shunned him, refusing meals and shutting myself away. Still, each night he came. Even Meow, now accustomed, cared little for the uninvited guest.

“Do you mean to trespass into my chamber again tonight?”

My voice was spent of venom, scarcely more than a whisper. He knew I had no strength for rage, and only nodded silently. Though he did not cease to sleep by my side, he kept a careful distance, as though aware of what I had dreamt. Paradoxical though it was, his presence at least spared me the torment of sleepless solitude.

A curse indeed earns its name.

To be denied sleep is torment beyond measure. Even to be forbidden bread for a month could not sharpen a man’s temper so keenly. The moment I succumbed to a doze, horrors awaited. This time, I remembered them not upon waking, yet the foul aftertaste remained.

In such moments, I would clutch the note given me by Kang Gwonhoo, like a talisman. Tomorrow, at last, the curse-breaker would come.

If even this short trial has undone me, how did Soohyuk endure it in the game? Perhaps, being only a game, it was brushed aside with convenience.

Yet living through it was no convenience.

Perhaps it is fortune that I took the spear instead.

Unwilling though I was to admit it, I had drawn Gwonhoo’s interest, and thus a curse-breaker was summoned swiftly. Had Soohyuk borne the curse instead, he would have endured far longer. And to stand helpless, watching him suffer—that would have been its own torment. Better that I endure it for a while, and at least our brotherhood had been somewhat restored.

Though distance has risen anew, the breaking of the curse shall bridge it once more.

With only hours left until the rite, I allowed myself a moment’s ease. In this mood, I could almost kiss Gwonhoo in gratitude—perhaps not the lips, but the cheek. If only a fist did not swiftly follow.

Knock, knock.

“Let us be off, Brother.”

Soohyuk urged me toward the car. For all his hatred of Gwonhoo, he had asked me more than once, ‘It is tomorrow, is it not?’

“The rite is at his house, is it not? You cannot wholly trust that man. To undergo curse-breaking, it is proper that a guard remain by your side.”

He had repeated this reasoning since yesterday. In truth, I lacked the strength even to walk unaided, and had already resolved to accept his escort. For all my recent coldness, I owed him that much. No need for written pleas.

“Do you take me for a fool? Once is enough—be silent now.”

“I thought you had not understood, for you gave no reply.”

He blocked my hand from the passenger’s door and instead opened the rear for me, as though to escort me. For a moment, it felt strangely courtly.

It is only courtesy to the sick. Do not read into it.

Still, I forced my eyes to remain open the whole drive. I would not yield to another nightmare.

“Welcome.”

At last we arrived at Gwonhoo’s house. He came to greet us himself, eyes clashing with Soohyuk’s, but claws stayed sheathed this time.

“You look as though you would not even be thrown scraps.”

He directed his barb at me.

Not porridge, but scraps for a dog. His tongue is inventive, at least.

I held back the retort upon my tongue.

Whatever he may be, he is my benefactor for now.

In truth, even had he been my enemy, I had not the gall to rebuke him.

“Brother!”

To my surprise, familiar faces waited within the hall.

“What state is this, Woojin?”

It was Ryu Jisoo and Kim Jun. I had not summoned them, so the host could only have been Gwonhoo. My questioning gaze turned to him.

“For rites such as these, it is best to have guardians one may trust. My own men, though loyal to me, are hardly well disposed toward you, as you have seen. Thus I called upon these two.”

He spoke of the attack by his own fanatic. It was true—fervour had turned loyalty into danger. In that light, Jisoo and Jun were the wiser choice.

“Better too much caution than too little. They have trained, after all.”

They did indeed look more weathered, more mature than before. While I had languished in hospital, they had grown. A pang of pride and guilt struck me.

“Brother, what has happened? You are more gaunt than when last we saw you.”

Kim Jun’s eyes glistened as he clasped my arm.

No, I am not gaunt. Perhaps thinner, yes, but not so much as that.

“You look like a walking corpse.”

“It is not so dire.”