“Teacher….”
She blinked once, and Seo-ah found herself at her teacher’s final moments. Before her, the woman knelt with one arm gone, crying, pulling out a key she had kept hidden.
“You don’t have to tell me. I’m going. I have to go. You know that.”
Her teacher, who had lain with closed eyes as if dead, opened them at once.
“No.”
With clarity unfitting for someone at the brink of death, she held her stance and explained why Seo-ah could not go.
Even as she spoke, blood seeped from where her arm was missing. She dragged a white cloth, large as a blanket, to cover and bind the wound, hoping to keep herself from dying, from leaving like the grandfather had.
“Stop and listen to me.”
Red blood spread through the tied cloth. It hurt to look at. Yet the one bleeding seemed unmoved.
“There’s so much blood—how can I stop?!”
“Stop. Listen first.”
As she said this, she placed a hand on Seo-ah’s cheek. It was cold as ice. Her only remaining hand felt like that of the dead.
Tears finally burst free. The same tears she had shed the day her grandfather died.
“How can I stay here?”
How can I stay, without grandfather, without you?
The teacher, who had commanded her to listen, closed her mouth. She gazed at Seo-ah. Deep green eyes, beautiful and steady, held her like a recording device. Her face remained unreadable, yet Seo-ah felt her despair.
Despair upon despair. Tears she had never known before spilled as she spoke.
“…The key. Two people seek it. One is that man. The other is the only sword that can kill him.”
“Who is it? Where do I go? I’ll take the key to that person myself—”
“No!”
Even dying, she shouted fiercely. She made Seo-ah listen, insisting the order must never be changed. Only then did she reveal the single path left—to retrieve her grandfather’s remains, to find her father.
Go to the Royal Felpe Bank. No matter what, obtain the Key Acquisition Certificate.
“After that, he—and the sword that can kill him—will come for you…”
Her clear voice suddenly slurred.
“Teacher!”
Seo-ah cried out. The dazed eyes refocused for a moment.
“Remember. The one you must follow is Rai—”
And as if nothing had happened, her eyes emptied again.
Tears poured down. Seo-ah embraced her tightly, only now realizing how cold her always-strong body truly was.
Don’t die. Don’t leave me like this.
She repeated the words again and again. A weak hand touched her back once, then fell away. At the same time, the teacher’s final words reached her.
“The wolf… the wolf will come.”
The one who will kill him. And ultimately kill you—
The hollow words, soaked in tears, faded before finishing.
Was it because she had seen her teacher again after so long? Because she saw her end rather than her living memories?
As if echoing her grief, suppressed sobs sounded from afar. Like groans.
“Uh… hngh… hngh.”
Behind the cries—fearful and pained—a cold voice followed, devoid of mercy.
“You have not woken up, despite the scheduled time having passed.”
“J-just one minute! P-please wait a little longer…!”
“Cut off a finger.”
“Aaah! Wait—wait!”
The content of the exchange was too gruesome. The sensations too real for a dream.
Beyond her closed eyelids, hazy light pressed in. Footsteps pounded. Air moved across her bare skin.
“Please wait a little longer. Stay awake!”
“Stay awake? What the hell is ‘stay awake’? Why are you giving medicine to someone who’s just lying there?”
This was not a dream.
And the moment she realized it, reality surged in—as if sky and earth flipped over.
Where am I?Who are these people?Why am I lying here?What have I—
Her heart beat slowly but heavily. Her palms grew damp.
Unable to grasp the situation, fear rose abruptly. It seemed wiser to pretend she had not awakened and observe a little longer.
“Is there no waking medicine?”
The casual question struck the surface of her memory.
“Let’s take the medicine. This is the perfect time.”
The memories that had sunk beneath surged up without warning. They dragged her back into that moment. She could neither resist nor stop them.
A strange sensation, as if a layer had been laid over every sense. The laughter of a demon. Being crushed beneath a body, helpless as an insect. Lukewarm liquid poured between parted lips. A touch climbing her thighs.
All of it swelled at once, rushing over her consciousness like a mountain stream in flood. Her throat tightened. Unlike then, her senses were intact now—yet she still could not move freely.
“Huh, ugh….”
“Huh? Senior! She’s awake!”
The surprised voice pierced her ears like background noise. That was all. Seo-ah trembled as the world narrowed into a tight tube pressing around her. Even breathing felt insufficient. Beneath the hazy light, she saw only pitch-black darkness.
Blackness without front or back draped over her mind.
“What’s wrong? Is she really awake?”
Her body was shaken violently. Even as the world on her retinas trembled, her consciousness fumbled through the dark.
The invading scent. The acrid red light. The man standing crookedly by the door.
That man.
“Do you want more?”
Remembering now, his lips holding the cigarette had curved smoothly upward. With those smiling lips, he lit another.
“If you want more, I can wait.”
Leisurely. As if the violence in the darkness meant nothing. And she had been terrified of it.
The despair and fear of that moment licked her heart cold. So, she pleaded desperately.
Please don’t leave me in this darkness. Please help me.
“Help me… help me….”
Meanwhile, Simon—who had believed he could relax once the woman opened her eyes—felt his patience snap the moment she appeared to lose her mind.
The brothel owner, whose fortunate day had become the worst of her life, wished she could die the instant she met Simon’s steady gaze.
Simon strode to the trembling woman and yanked her upright. Then he shoved her toward the bed, he commanded.
“Take responsibility. If her mind breaks, one finger won’t be enough.”
She burst into tears as she watched the woman who had completely lost herself.
Help me. Don’t leave me. Please help me.
The woman repeated the same words. Vacant eyes wide. Tears flowing. Fists clenched until white.
It felt like something she had seen before. Or perhaps lived through.
She gasped and crawled onto the bed. She took the trembling woman’s hand and bowed her head.
“I’m sorry.”
“…….”
“I’m sorry. It was my fault.”
“…Help me… don’t leave me… I…”
Her voice carried the full weight of the night’s despair.
The brothel owner pulled the woman she had intended to ruin into her arms and held her tightly. Stroking the slender back pushed toward ruin, she apologized with a pleading smile.
“I’m sorry, miss. I’m sorry.”
It might have been a struggle to survive. Or a sliver of conscience long buried. Or simple instinct obeying the devil’s command to take responsibility.
Whatever the reason, she could not release the fragile body that felt ready to collapse, even as she swallowed her sobs.
Holding the small back, she told her it was over, that she was safe, offering warmth and hollow excuses that she had not acted out of malice.
“I’m sorry, miss. It was my fault. I’m sorry.”
Of course, Simon’s reaction to this was neither gentle nor forgiving.
It was something far more horrific.
—