The Villain Excels at Behind-the-Scenes Work -2-
The public announcement rang through the station speakers.
“Sis, look over here.”
“Hmm? Why?”
Click! The camera flash burst like a stun grenade.
“...Eek!!”
Nadja scrunched her face into a deep scowl at the sudden visual assault.
“Ugh… why’d you take a picture out of nowhere?”
“To upload it.”
At Chae Yuha’s bold reply, a giant question mark seemed to pop up above Nadja’s head. The pure, innocent reaction made Chae Yuha feel an unexpected pang of guilt.
It was unfortunate for Nadja, but this issue existed completely apart from Chae Yuha’s own intentions. What was the big deal about a single photo? If she skipped posting on Insta for even one day, the masked online terrorists would descend for another round of indiscriminate bombing.
Chae Yuha eased her guilt toward Nadja by mentally pummeling her past foolish self—the one who had started Insta for money in the first place.
“Phew.” Homework complete. The moment she finished uploading the day’s post, Chae Yuha turned her phone off without a shred of hesitation.
Nadja, who had been watching with a puzzled expression, seemed to mull something over. Then her face lit up with an audible “Aha!” as a giant exclamation mark popped into existence above her head. She was running her little-sister-praise simulator at full power again.
The train finally pulled into the station. Chae Yuha pulled her hood low over her face and raised her mask, just as Nadja had warned her to do earlier. After unintentionally giving Cheongang a massive middle finger, it wouldn’t do her any good to show her face inside the train.
‘Not that I didn’t flip them off on purpose.’
A sudden mischievous impulse hit her. From behind her mask she silently mouthed every curse she could think of at the train crew. Since the crew member couldn’t see through the mask, however, it only looked as if a beautiful woman was staring intently at him. The crew member’s mood inexplicably improved.
“Ticket inspection.”
Before they could board, the now-overconfident crew member—his ego inflated by Chae Yuha’s earlier behavior—blocked their path. Nadja yawned extravagantly and handed over her ID card.
The crew member checked it, jumped in surprise, and snapped into a crisp salute.
“Director Nadja of the research lab! I had no idea—what brings you here without prior notice…”
“When have you ever seen me announce my visits? I’m busy, so move.”
“Y-yes, ma’am! And the person beside you…?”
“Hmm? Oh, a supervisor they assigned to me. They said to keep an eye on Yusil so she doesn’t cause any more trouble.”
For a moment the crew member froze, internally repeating ‘Yusil…?’ Only later did he realize it referred to Cheon Yusil, the sole daughter of Cheon Taewoo, chairman of the Cheongang Group. The fact that someone could speak of the chairman’s only child so casually made the crew member lose every ounce of confidence he had gained.
“How long are you going to keep us standing here? My legs hurt—move already!”
Frustrated by the idiot who kept spacing out, Nadja finally shouted. The crew member hurriedly stepped aside.
“S-sorry for the inconvenience!”
Nadja boarded the train, practically emitting steam from her temples. As Chae Yuha followed her, she thought, Sis is the best…
The old saying really was true. Just having one powerful person in the house completely changed the quality of life. This was the taste of power. It was so sweet she worried her teeth might rot.
The final announcement played just before departure. For some reason the content of the message bothered Chae Yuha, and her thoughts drifted.
The orbital elevator train. In the original story, this train didn’t appear until much later. It was the vehicle used in that infuriating arc where Last, after suffering every kind of slander and humiliation, was finally expelled to the surface.
Thinking about it now, she couldn’t understand why she had kept reading a comic that only ever fed her nothing but sweet potatoes. The one who fell first was the sinner, she supposed. Chae Yuha let out a sigh so heavy it felt like the ground might collapse beneath her.
Lost in thought, she walked until she suddenly realized she had reached the very last car of the train. Nadja, who had already claimed their seats, poked her head out and waved.
“Sawol, over here!”
The Confucian heart residing in Chae Yuha’s chest immediately objected: Waving your hands so disruptively in a public space inconveniences everyone around you. And you’re even raising your voice.
Chae Yuha ignored it completely, walked over, and in one smooth motion lifted Nadja up and settled her on her own lap.
She began kneading.
“Ueh…”
Chae Yuha continued to ruffle Nadja’s hair and pinch her cheeks, fully indulging her inner desires. Soon the train lurched and began to move.
*
Kim Seokho, thirty-three years old, an Enhanced Human. He was the perpetrator of the kidnapping at Noir Blanche and a ten-year veteran of the food service industry.
He had a younger sister so precious that even putting her in his eye wouldn’t hurt. She had been frail ever since childhood. After their parents were drafted for surface exploration and never returned, her condition had deteriorated even further.
The doctor had repeatedly insisted that only the Enhanced Human procedure could save her life. But just hearing the words “Enhanced Human” was enough to make Kim Seokho feel like he would have a seizure.
Because they were Enhanced Humans, his parents had been drafted for surface exploration and died. Because he was an Enhanced Human, Kim Seokho had to live his life looked down upon by Cheongang’s citizens. Because he was an Enhanced Human, he had been used in one of Chae Yuha’s evil schemes.
Kim Seokho could not—under any circumstances—allow his one remaining family member to live the same miserable life he had.
“I will now deliver the verdict. Defendant Kim Seokho is sentenced to ‘brainwashing.’”
It was Eniac’s judgment on the department store kidnapping case. Brainwashing was a punishment that used nanomachines to grind down synapses and neural structures, completely rewriting the subject’s personality.
Yet for some unknown reason, the brainwashing had no effect on Kim Seokho. He still remembered his own name, his sister’s name, and even the names of his deceased parents—everything.
It was a miracle. In truth, the residue of Chae Yuha’s power had remained inside his brain like sediment and sabotaged the nanomachines, but Kim Seokho, unaware of this, saw it as an opportunity.
From that day forward he acted exactly like someone who had undergone brainwashing. When his sister cried and asked if he no longer recognized her, it felt like his heart was being ripped apart. Each time that happened, he tracked Chae Yuha’s movements even more obsessively, waiting for the moment of revenge.
He watched every video she appeared in, joined communities that worshipped her, followed the Insta account she ran, and kept waiting for his chance.
Then he saw the video that had once shaken the entire community.
Kim Seokho’s fists shook with rage. How could she say something like that and yet do this to me!
But contrary to his personal feelings, the atmosphere in the city was slowly shifting because of Chae Yuha’s tearful plea. Kim Seokho was confused.
He was a man who valued his sister’s safety above his own. That was why he had secretly obtained and kept a supply of Winterdead—the high-risk Enhanced Human stimulant he had never once touched in his life. The other Enhanced Humans in the city were too busy watching their backs, and he believed he was the only one who could protect his sister when the time came.
Yet the video of Chae Yuha—his mortal enemy who had framed him—was ironically creating a better world for his sister to live in. She was using the very crime she had pinned on him to do it.
Until now, Kim Seokho had believed he placed his sister’s well-being above all else. If that was true, then Chae Yuha, who had created a better city for Enhanced Humans and his sister even by using him, should be considered a benefactor.
But he could never accept that.
At the same time, he did not want his precious sister to live the same miserable life as an Enhanced Human that he and his parents had endured.
Kim Seokho no longer understood his own heart.
What exactly do I want to do?
—Whirring.
The door to the last car of the train slid open. It was the train bound for the 7th Space Elevator. He had followed her after seeing her Insta post.
Chae Yuha and Kim Seokho’s eyes met.
At that exact moment, Kim Seokho realized what he truly wanted—and what he needed to do.