An Unshakable Past (3)
The next day, upon seeing the person inside that familiar "interrogation room," I froze solid. Standing there was a child. A kid who couldn't have been more than ten years old. The moment I laid eyes on them, I gritted my teeth.
"It's a kid."
My mind went blank the instant I spotted the trembling child through the glass.
Seol Rokjin continued calmly, unfazed by my words.
"If you get that child to eat the onion, I'll let them live. But you're forbidden from telling the kid directly that eating the onion will save their life. They have to choose to eat it of their own free will."
Unlike yesterday, he'd laid out clear rules this time. But I couldn't bring myself to step into that room.
"Why a kid?"
Seol Rokjin replied matter-of-factly.
"Adults catch on to situations and think ahead, but kids are innocent."
In other words, lies would work even better on them.
But what if I failed?
"You're not planning to kill them, are you?"
"If you fail, that's what'll happen. You're already assuming failure before we've even started?"
He'd said I needed desperation, and now he was manufacturing it like this.
"Please..."
"No need to beg me, Ishin. Do well, and the kid lives. It's just tricking a ten-year-old."
Even without talent, I could pull this off. That's what he'd told me, shoving me inside.
I desperately tried to deceive the child, but they weren't fooled.
"You want me to eat this? It's an onion."
Sweat poured down my face as I insisted,
"No, it's a delicious apple. Try it—it's super tasty."
Please, kid, please. If you don't eat it, you'll die.
I drew on every ounce of mana, pouring everything into the lie, but it didn't take. Seeing my tear-streaked, pleading face only terrified the child more.
"No!"
I shook my head as the kid fled from me. This wasn't working. It just wasn't. Groaning in frustration, I tried everything to earn their trust.
But time slipped away with nothing to show for it, and the door opened.
"Please, please..."
"Time's up. Two hours already."
Seol Rokjin had his men drag me out. The sudden intrusion sent the child scrambling under the table in terror.
That pitiful sight should have stirred pity in anyone.
Then came the gunshot.
The sound hit me like a hammer, and I lunged at Seol Rokjin, howling in rage. But as always, my outburst was effortlessly subdued.
"Why? It's a kid! An innocent kid who doesn't know anything. They did nothing wrong—why...?"
As I muttered deliriously, Seol Rokjin whispered,
"Exactly. If you wanted to save them, you should've done better, Ishin. I gave you chances, but you failed—don't blame me."
The child's death was all my fault, he said.
I didn't want to do this either, but it seemed most effective.
He warned that if I kept refusing to use my power, ignoring it, hiding from it, he'd have to resort to even worse methods.
The next day, he shoved me in front of another child.
And I failed.
Again.
After that, Seol Rokjin kept bringing in kids. Desperate to save at least them, I tried relentlessly.
But I failed every time, and each time, a gunshot rang out. I could've looked away or covered my ears, but I forced myself to watch.
Because that kid died because of me.
Huddled in the corner, Seol Rokjin told me,
"You're too scared, Ishin. You don't even believe your own words—why would anyone else?"
I didn't want to hear it from him, but he had a point. Fear of failure had me shaking so badly no one would trust me.
"Even for revenge against me, you need to shake it off, right? Moping won't change a thing."
Just curse me out already. His lame advice somehow got me on my feet. Shrinking away changed nothing, just like he said.
That day, I finally succeeded.
After sacrificing five kids.
The moment I saw the child crunching into the onion like a crisp apple, I collapsed to the floor.
"Well done."
Seol Rokjin's praise pierced my ears—the first I'd ever gotten using my talent. But it brought no joy.
"See how good it feels to listen? You live, and the kid lives too."
I scowled and asked,
"What happens to the kid now?"
"Who knows."
"Who knows? You're not bringing them back here, are you?"
"Maybe I'll send them somewhere nice?"
"Of course you will!"
Amid my outburst, Seol Rokjin smiled enigmatically.
"Fine, somewhere good it is. Even that little one's life needs a spring day."
I didn't grasp the meaning then. I just felt relieved the kid was escaping this hell.
Unaware they were headed to a deeper one.
Afterward, I remained his plaything in these experiments.
It started simple—tricking someone into eating an onion as an apple—but soon escalated to other lies. I'd beg desperately, and sometimes adults were brought in as subjects. But failures meant kids again.
Each time, I poured everything into deceiving them to save them.
As experiments dragged on, successes outnumbered failures. And Seol Rokjin praised me lavishly each time.
Those praises warped something inside me.
I vented every frustration at him. This is all his doing—never forget that. He's the enemy. My sworn foe, the villain I must kill.
Yet he took it all, uncharacteristically gentle. I didn't know how to handle that kindness.
The next day, I stood before him again, and he proposed another test.
"Make that man die somehow. Do it, and I'll spare the kid."
The child he pointed to trembled, staring at me.
"Didn't you let this one go yesterday?"
"I let them go from that spot yesterday."
Damn him.
"Don't worry—the first one you saved? I sent them off properly."
You bastard.
I cursed him silently, grinding my teeth. I had to, or I'd snap. But defying him outright? No chance.
He'd conditioned me thoroughly: disobey, and pay the price. Obey, and reap sweet rewards.
I entered the interrogation room. That day, I drove the man to death with ease.
Threatening that worse awaited if he survived here—it hardly even felt like a lie. Terrified, he grabbed the pistol before him and blew his own head off.
He could've shot me or Seol Rokjin, but my deception left him with one idiotic thought: I must die.
With three inches of tongue, I'd ended a life.
Ah, I've become a perfect monster.
Staring at the hazy lock that materialized before my eyes, I squeezed them shut. I'd visualized my talent at last, but joy? None.
It had become a horrific tool for killing.
Developing in the one direction I dreaded most, it felt utterly repulsive.
How many more lives would I ruin with this?
Gazing at the man's corpse, I sighed inwardly.
"That's enough now, right?"
Seol Rokjin burst in, face flushed with excitement, grabbing my shoulders.
"See? You feel nothing."
Nothing? Rage, grief—plenty. But not what he meant. Scowling, I glared at him. Still buzzing, he pressed on.
"They'll do anything you say. Even throw away their life. Well? How's it feel?"
He studied my face, hunting for some revelation.
He always urged me to shed pity for people.
They're not human like us. At first, I thought it awakener supremacy talk. But he was ruthless even to awakeners.
I realized it then.
He's just a psycho, and for some reason, he wants to mold me into one like him.
"I don't know what you expect from me, but I'll never become like you."
He smiled.
"You're a weird one. No joy from power or favors I give, but kids dying? You tremble."
"You..."
"Dozens dead because of you, and you still hurt."
Tilting his head, he added,
"But is this pain the same as at first?"
My breath caught.
"When the first kid died, you couldn't eat or sleep for a week. Now?"
Now I ate and slept fine. Nightmares came, but faded quickly. His words made me shudder. Smiling at my reaction, he said,
"Just a matter of time."
All stimuli fade with familiarity—even death, he claimed. Eventually, I'd grasp what he wanted to teach.
"No, I've just learned to swallow it. Pain changes nothing. You taught me that—to stay sharp for killing you."
He sighed at my stubbornness, and my body stiffened. I'd come to genuinely fear his disappointment.
Looking at me, he said,
"Don't worry, Ishin. Even if you're utterly lacking, stupid, clueless—I've decided to keep you."
Patting my head like a dog, he continued,
"Humans aren't easily forgiven, but dogs? They get endless chances."
I grimaced.
"A dog?"
"You're too dumb for human treatment. And I said it—humans don't get easy forgiveness. But a dog? Dumb antics are just what dogs do."
His words hit: he didn't see me as human. Special, maybe, but never his equal.
"Living as a dog suits you better."
I couldn't bring myself to ask.
What the hell do I have to do to be treated like a person by you?
Even suicidal, vengeance gives purpose to live. Somehow.
I learned that from Seol Rokjin.
━So what you told Suo Haozhu was from experience?
"Yeah."
At first, revenge burned fierce. For ruining my friend, my life—I'd make him pay dearly.
But time blurred that resolve.
Reasons piled up: no power to act, he was too strong, no openings.
Later...
"I just... adapted to life with him."
Nine years with Seol Rokjin weren't all torment.
I hated him viscerally, but grew accustomed. Still despised him, yet knowing him better than anyone dulled the hatred and thirst for revenge into ambiguity.
Then it clicked—why he'd spared me.
"He was confident he could convince me."
An invisible leash around my neck. No thought of breaking it or biting the hand holding it. I lived as his pet dog.
━You didn't choose that.
Doesn't matter. I stuck by him, aiding this nation's fall.
And later, I even enjoyed it.
The "successful life" he bestowed.
"Isn't it ridiculous? I craved revenge, yet ended up cozy with Jeong Hosan's killer."
He was right—I'd become so like him.
"I've always been hopeless trash. What could I even do?"
━So you'll just sit here doing nothing?
"What can I do? Everything I touch turns to ruin. If I'd done nothing, maybe this wouldn't have happened..."
Then the firmly shut door flew open.
Ripped off its hinges, really. Kim Jaeho and Han Seohyun stormed out, fuming.
"Come out."
"W-what?"
Han Seohyun, face twisted in anger, snapped at me,
"We need to talk."