Cheering for a New Start -11
"Huh? What the—? You already had a full-on brawl?"
"Those bitches trashed the place, huh?"
Kim Soi clenched her jaw, swallowing her humiliation. Head bowed low, she just kept walking, one foot in front of the other.
"Hah... at least... give 'em some clothes..."
She and her mercenaries were marching in like slaves, clad only in their underwear. No collars around their necks, no shackles on wrists or ankles. But no one even thought about running. He'd laid down the law in that low, chilling voice: "Run, and you die." No matter what they tried, escape was impossible.
"What, you playing slave trader now, boss?"
Kim Soi snapped her mouth shut at the sound of the giggling blonde. Han Seohee's here? And calling him 'boss'?
She didn't seem particularly reverent, but a woman like her wouldn't act that way toward some random guy who wasn't even her master. It was shocking enough that she was alive, let alone that she'd joined this group with her filthy attitude.
Hoo...
That man was far stronger than she'd imagined. And the organization wasn't as weak as she'd assumed. No wonder her offer of protection had sounded so ridiculous.
Suddenly hit by a wave of shame, Soi ducked her head again.
"Slave trader? Nah, I'm locking 'em up."
"Locking 'em up? Why?"
"They fucked up, so they gotta pay. Full prison stint for all of 'em."
Seohee tilted her head.
"Dunno if sticking 'em in jail counts as punishment coming from you... But what about that? Part of the penalty?" She jerked her chin at their near-naked state.
"Nah, that's not it. I don't care, but the others might get hurt. Just disarming 'em."
Mercenaries were always ready for a fight—even with junk hidden in pockets or cruddy one-shot pistols tucked away. Spotting that, Sunwoo had ordered: "Strip down to your undies and follow, weapons in hand."
What happens now...?
Kim Soi let out a deep sigh. At least they were alive for the moment. Survive today, and maybe luck would turn. An escape chance could come.
"Alright, follow me."
He casually led them inside the safe zone.
...Kinda lax on security? Good for us.
She was a mercenary. She'd been jailed before—not often, but enough. Catch a lapse in surveillance, and she might slip out somehow—
"Hm?"
The mercenaries entering the headquarters couldn't help tilting their heads at the empty space. Aside from a few blankets and pillows, a trash can, and some snack wrappers, there was nothing.
"All here now."
He flashed a sinister smile their way. It sent chills down their spines. That grin was the kind of cold-blooded smirk from someone who'd watched countless deaths without batting an eye.
"...Weren't you gonna lock us in a prison?"
Kim Soi stared at him, eyes trembling.
Round us up where we can't fight back, then slaughter us all?
Made sense, really. Logically, why would he bother jailing mercenaries? She wasn't some political bigwig, and he wasn't weak enough to care about that shit anyway.
But... here? The yard outside would've been better—less mess...
Her mind raced.
Or is he gonna rape us now? No one else around... he could do whatever...
She'd heard the stories. Women thrilled to be "chosen," only to waste away and collapse in under three months. Terrifying. Painful. Horrific. But endure it, and an escape opportunity would—
"The prison—"
He spoke up. Every mercenary turned to him.
"We build it starting now."
"What?"
They figured it was a joke—until he started hauling in chopped logs and vines for rope.
/////
A week passed.
"Hey! Can't you see everyone's busting their asses? We gotta finish this by lunch, remember?!"
"Yeah, yeah, got it."
"If there's no meat again, it's on you!"
"So heartless..."
The women in the stockade twisted vines into ropes without a moment's rest. Soi yelled at her subordinate, then dove back into the work.
How the hell did it come to this?
She quietly reflected on the past. When they'd first arrived, she'd been dead set on escaping at the first chance.
But this prison was nothing like she'd braced for.
—Prison... inside the safe zone? Why?
—We go home at night. Can't leave you out there—too risky.
He actually cared about the prisoners' lives—not disposable trash, but people worth protecting.
—Blankets...? Why?
—Nights get cold.
Locked in a building with a wooden floor instead of dirt? They should be grateful. But he even fretted over their health.
—Food...?
—What, starve you?
—Not rotten, not spoiled, no dirt... you're just handing out rations like this?
—Wasn't that much. Work harder, maybe get extras.
—What?
—More meat in the side dish. Snacks. Soda.
—I'm a prisoner! Won't your people bitch about spoiling us?
—They're eating way better than you. Don't worry.
Unbelievable. But impossible to deny. Every woman she'd met showed no jealousy—just awe at how well the prisoners were treated.
—Then... why lock us up?
To Soi, reasons to cage people boiled down to few: hostages, slave labor for deadly jobs, or fresh meat on the menu.
—You fucked up. Reasons for prison? Punishment, reform, isolation from society.
—Quit the bullshit! Say it plain!
He met her eyes steadily.
—Punish you by taking your freedom for your crimes.
—Keep you locked so you don't hurt my people.
—Reform that arsonist pyro brain so you can rejoin society.
He was dead serious. Kim Soi felt certain no real danger lurked in this prison, even long-term.
So she revised her plans.
Escape... do I really have to?
Sure, it was stifling. Her, who lived for fights and wandering, cooped in a modest wooden stockade.
But give up that freedom, and the gains were huge.
Safe, good food, work's not too brutal...
That man poured his inhuman strength into construction without holding back. Prisoners and settlers alike never lifted heavy loads. His condition? Just rope-making.
And the prisoners, Soi included, threw themselves into it eagerly.
Good eats...
No dangers, but no entertainment either. Without this simple task and chit-chat, boredom would've driven them mad.
Besides, they didn't hate this life. And they knew it could vanish if he willed it.
So they worked their hardest—for praise and rewards they'd never have dreamed of before.
"Boss, this batch's done!"
"Good, good! Hey, trade this for some extra snacks—say we're working overtime?"
"For real?"
"Time left. Better than sitting—twist more rope, snag a cola."
"Hell yeah!"
Work resumed. Soon, idle thoughts bubbled in Kim Soi's mind.
Fuck, just one cigarette...
She wasn't without ideas. Confess the cig started the fire, beg for one? Insane. He'd say, "Have I been too soft?" and strip everything away—no surprise there.
Still...
No pain or hardship now—don't push it. Don't ask for more than this.
Still...
One smoke, and she'd sell her soul.
"Hey! Holding up?"
Footsteps approached from below.
"Oh, you."
"Yeah. Prison life treating you okay? Comfy?"
Han Seohee sauntered in, beaming like a Cheshire cat—scheming, wicked, as if plotting something for her.