Cheering for a New Start - 15
Fifteen hours had passed. The prisoners spent their time here, and kept spending it. Slowly, the sun was setting.
"Damn it. It's gonna be hard to work if we can't see shit..."
"Like we can do anything when we're starving. Why the hell does the sun set so fast?"
"If you'd worked your asses off, you'd have gotten something to eat."
Smiles had long vanished from the mercenaries' lips. When they'd first arrived, they'd thought, 'They won't kill us, and if we just work hard, we get food?' But that joy was short-lived. Humans are animals that adapt to any situation. These mercenaries, who weren't known for their patience, couldn't hold onto that gratitude for long.
"Isn't the rope-making in the second pen too damn slow?"
"Shit, I've always hated this kind of crap! How the hell am I supposed to be good at something I've never done before?!"
Complaints erupted from one cage, anger from another.
"What, you think we were rope-making experts before? We just busted our asses!"
Their slacking attitudes inevitably affected productivity. The women who'd given up didn't want to put in real effort just for slightly better meals. But most women did strive for those small meals and snacks, naturally breeding conflict.
"Quit your bitching and get back to work."
Kim Soi snapped at them, her voice sharp, trying to rein them in.
"...Does the boss even have the right to say that?"
"What?"
"If it weren't for you, boss, we wouldn't be stuck here twisting ropes in the first place!"
Thinking of this prison life as safe had been a fleeting illusion. They were wanderers at heart. To them, roaming the streets endlessly was the natural order. Like how you only appreciate oxygen when you're suffocating, they'd never valued freedom until they were caged here.
And now, they felt it deeply.
"At least we're eating and surviving."
"The supply points around here were plentiful! Sure, this group might control them eventually, but that's later!"
"..."
Soi had no retort. Her subordinate's words rang true.
"Or we could've just begged to join... That might've been better! Hell, that would've been the best!"
The second floor of the base headquarters where they were held had open windows. They could catch glimpses of sunlight, keeping the room from growing too dark and dreary. But sometimes, those windows showed them cruel scenes.
Scenes of "normal people" laughing and chatting together, kicking around a scavenged ball for soccer, drifting freely across the yard with bright smiles.
Those women did jobs no different from the prisoners'. They didn't seem particularly special or talented. Yet they weren't obsessed with quotas, didn't risk their lives for snacks or drinks.
The mercenaries weren't too foolish to miss the difference. The people outside hadn't broken into the base to steal. They hadn't tried to burn it down. They couldn't expect the same treatment.
Even if that man favored the women outside, it was unavoidable.
"We could've... damn it, we could've done that too!"
But understanding it didn't mean accepting it. Their heads got it, but their hearts rebelled.
"We could've lived like the people outside...!"
The people in the cages kept suffering from inferiority complexes. If everyone shared the misery and pain, they might've endured. But a mere glance out the window revealed women living carefree, happy lives right before their eyes.
The mercenaries weren't magnanimous enough to shrug it off with, 'Doesn't bother me.'
"How was I supposed to know this place was like this?!"
"Then you could've at least been more careful!"
Soi bowed her head.
"We weren't short on time. Supplies were everywhere! We could've just played it safe, scoped things out, seen if it was worth joining..."
Her subordinate was right. Soi had been desperate. Fixated on how mercenary work around here was drying up. Deluded that one big score would let them live comfortably like the "organization people" they envied.
All of it had made her rash. Convinced she'd miss her last chance if she hesitated.
"Don't make excuses, boss! Whatever you say now, this is all because of you!"
If she'd been just a bit more level-headed, maybe this wouldn't have happened. If so, she and her mercenaries wouldn't be in cages—they'd be out in that free yard—
"Fighting?"
The man had come up. Kim Sunwoo. The most attractive, kindest man she'd ever met.
"N-no, sir!"
"Nothing going on!"
The subordinate who'd boldly confronted Soi just moments ago shrank, voice meek, eyes darting to him. It stung. Soi had overcome countless hardships with these subordinates; she'd thought they were close.
But she couldn't blame them. That man held their lives in his hands. Everyone had to watch his mood.
"Work done for today?"
"..."
Piles of unfinished tasks loomed before them.
"N-not much left! Sorry!"
"The girls in pen 2 aren't working hard, so—"
"It's not that different from you guys!"
The man shook his head wearily.
"Whatever. I gotta head out, so eat this and rest."
The women below brought food: hard-boiled eggs, salt, grass, and sliced bread. Not terrible, but not tasty. Soi craved sweets. Cigarettes. Trivial, petty desires tormented her endlessly.
And she met his eyes.
'...'
The prisoners' inferiority, including Soi's, wasn't just from the outsiders' better treatment. The base was rebuilding. Structures rising.
But the women inside couldn't share that joy, even as buildings went up with the ropes and processed wood they'd made. They were prisoners. Not part of the settlement.
The base's growth meant nothing to them. Prisoners had no right to that shared happiness.
And among those intangible rewards was the man's warm encouragement and praise.
In a world short on men, women who'd never seen one their whole lives couldn't help feeling drawn to Kim Sunwoo. Handsome, kind, good-hearted, strong. Missing even two or three traits, and they'd hand over their livers and gallbladders begging for his love.
For a brief moment, they could smile. Some mercenaries even hoped that sparing them, treating them leniently, was a sign of interest.
But it was delusion.
"Any issues, speak up."
His eyes held faint fatigue and deeper indifference.
"None, sir!"
"Good."
The mercenaries, Soi included, knew well how kindly he treated his women—or even the ones outside. How he'd flash warm, gentle, joyful smiles that made you want to plan kids just from his voice.
A stark contrast to how he handled slaves.
This fueled more inferiority. Rage. Longing.
Why can't I hear words like that from a man?
He didn't love the mercenaries. Didn't see them as comrades. His bare-minimum goodness prompted only perfunctory care.
Soi bit her lip hard.
'Damn it...'
Seohee was right. Neither she nor her mercenaries could endure this much longer. It hurt. Tormented her. Her body shivered coldly.
Without the cigarette always in her mouth, she felt even icier.
'Ugh...'
Objectively, their situation wasn't the worst. They were safe, fed—not starving to death anytime soon.
Yet misery filled Soi's mind. Knowing happier people roamed just outside the window. Knowing a bit more caution could've let her enjoy that life.
Seohee's words haunted her. Offering everything to him might change things. Convincing him of her sincere regret, proving they posed no threat—he wouldn't force them to stay.
"Sunwoo... boss?"
Her voice trembled as she called to him.
"Just a moment... can we talk? Just for a bit?"
Soi opened her mouth. Sunwoo's eyes turned to her.