Collapse, Addiction
Marcela reached into the pocket of her gown and withdrew a small remote. The moment she pressed the top button, a low mechanical hum filled the room and a screen descended from the ceiling, swallowing an entire wall. While Marcela’s fingers still trembled with lingering excitement as she manipulated the controls, Sehwa turned to the Doctor.
“Doctor.”
“...?”
The Doctor’s face was tight with tension. Sehwa continued in a calm, almost gentle voice.
“I’m going to give you a chance. If you choose correctly and obey nicely, Sister Yuria will remain unharmed.”
The Doctor squeezed her eyes shut. So they really had been caught. It was her own fault for suggesting they enter the park… The guilt crushed her. She was so terribly sorry.
Soon the screen flickered to life. It was split in two. On the left, people of various races were crammed together inside a massive prison. On the right, Yuria lay fast asleep in a room resembling a private hospital ward, bound tightly with no blanket to cover her.
The Doctor’s heart plummeted as she stared at the right side. “Is Yuria… all right…?”
“She’s fine. She’s only sleeping. Do you recognize the humans on the left?”
The left panel zoomed in at the perfect moment. The Doctor scanned the faces, then shook her head.
“I-I don’t know them… I’ve never seen any of them before…”
“Really? They’d be hurt if they heard that.”
“Who are they…?”
Sehwa let out a soft giggle and explained.
“The humans tied up on the left are people who know you, Doctor. They’re connected to you in all sorts of ways. They’re the ones who plagiarized the research papers and theses you published under the name Isabel Parsons. A few of them even spread slander about you behind your back. Utterly shameless, aren’t they?”
“.....”
“The ones we brought today are merely tools to help you adjust. Negative relationships, fleeting connections at best. But the people we capture next will be innocent. Their relationships with you will be positive ones.”
Sehwa had said she would deliver two punishments. The mere mention of a “choice” made it clear that what was coming would be horrific. And the next group would be people close to her… The Doctor shuddered at the sheer cruelty and ground her teeth.
“What… do you want from me…?”
“You seem to have guessed already. I’ll let Marcela explain the rest.”
Sehwa gave Marcela’s hip a light tap. The woman, still wearing a dreamy expression, snapped back to attention and began to speak. Her words struck the Doctor like a hammer.
“For every mistake you have made, Doctor, we will turn Yuria Elenar into a demon. However, you have options… If you cannot bear to see Lady Yuria become a demon, then kill the humans on the left screen. You have erred twice, so ten lives per mistake means you must kill twenty people.”
The Doctor had anticipated the choice between subjecting Yuria to torment or killing humans. But ten at a time was beyond anything she had imagined. The demonification process itself was equally merciless. It was unimaginably cruel.
Whether or not she sensed the Doctor’s panic, Marcela continued in the same clinical tone.
“Most humans lose their minds and become monsters after only one or two cycles of demonification. But Lady Yuria has endured countless hardships. Her mental fortitude is exceptional… She should be able to withstand twenty rounds. Perhaps even thirty.”
When Marcela finished, Sehwa produced two small switches from her pocket. She placed the red one in the Doctor’s left hand and the green one in her right.
“Choose for yourself, Doctor.”
“Ah…”
The Doctor’s body swayed violently, her mind teetering on the edge of collapse. Sehwa caught her at once and spoke in a voice as cold as frost.
“You can’t fall apart already… Hold on. I’ll give you one minute. If you refuse to choose, I will punish both Yuria and every one of those humans.”
“Sehwa… how far have you fallen…?”
How far had Sehwa truly fallen? That wicked expression belonged to evil itself. It was as if the sense of justice that once compelled her to protect humanity had never existed. The Doctor desperately wanted to know what method Tyrat had used to twist her so completely.
“Time is running out.”
“.....”
The trolley problem flashed through her mind, that classic ethical dilemma in which one person is bound to one track and five to another, forcing a choice of who must die. How was anyone supposed to solve such a thing?
In truth, the Doctor’s answer had already been decided. She had always loved numerical games and calculations of worth. She had assigned values to lives. Yuria’s worth was so vastly greater than that of the people on the left that comparison was meaningless. She even thought of the woman as family. Logically, she had to choose the left.
Yet the moment she considered that her decision would end human lives, instinctive revulsion surged through her. She had grown to hate humans because of what Jihyeok had suffered and the things he had said, but this was different. This was falling for Tyrat’s trap. Her true nature had not yet been broken. The very fact that she recoiled at the thought of killing was proof of that.
Her mind grew foggy. She wanted nothing more than to let go of consciousness entirely. But Sehwa had said that failing to choose would result in punishment for both Yuria and the prisoners. It was no idle threat. She had to press the switch no matter what.
“Thirty seconds remaining. If the choice is too difficult, tell me. I’ll help you. Just this once.”
Please… Please let Jihyeok realize she’s missing. Let him send Silvia and Adele. Let them smash through the ceiling like superheroes, purify Sehwa, rescue Yuria and me, and take us far away from this place. If there is a god, please grant us salvation.
But such empty hopes never came true.
“Ten seconds left.”
“.....”
“Nine, eight, seven, six…”
Sehwa counted the numbers with the delighted tone of a child playing an amusing game. Tears poured down the Doctor’s face as she finally forced the words out.
“Left… Choose the left…”
Sehwa’s lips curved into a beautiful smile. She took the Doctor’s left hand and curled the fingers around the switch.
“I knew you would. Well done.”
Without the slightest hesitation, she pressed down.
Two sharp clicks echoed through the silent room.
Then came the explosions—BANG!BOOM!
The screen went dark. At the same moment, the Doctor’s sanity snapped.
Twenty human heads had burst apart simultaneously, turning the prison into a vision of hell. She could almost hear the despairing, terror-filled screams of those who had survived the carnage.
Her eyes rolled back and she fainted.
—KYAAAAAAAAGH!!
—It exploded…! His head exploded!
—Save me! Let me out! I was wrong!
“Huk!”
The Doctor shot upright, gasping, having just relived the nightmare of people dying. A splitting headache immediately assaulted her and she clutched her forehead.
“Ah…”
“Are you all right?”
At the crisp voice beside her, the Doctor turned. Sehwa was watching her with a sardonic little smile. The Doctor clenched her teeth. She wanted to hurl curses and slap that face, but she knew doing so might earn her the switches again. Forcing her expression to soften, she asked in a shaking voice.
“It… wasn’t a dream, was it…?”
“No. You killed twenty people at the same time, Doctor.”
“….Ugh…!”
Sehwa’s confirmation made the Doctor’s stomach revolt. She bolted for the bathroom, shoved her face into the toilet, and emptied her stomach acid in violent heaves. When it was over she slumped against the wall, exhausted.
Sehwa approached and offered a damp towel. The Doctor accepted it silently, wiped her mouth, and whispered.
“Thank you…”
“Thank you? My, Doctor, you’ve become so sweet. The shock therapy must have worked wonders.”
“I had no choice…”
“Exactly. No choice at all. Just keep doing this. Then Sister Yuria will stay safe, and your hands will never have to be stained with blood.”
“.....”
“Hurry and eat. I left it on the table.”
How could she possibly swallow food in a situation like this?
“I’m not hungry… Can’t you just leave me alone for a while?”
“You’re really not going to eat?”
Sehwa stared at her with a meaningful look. The Doctor instinctively understood that refusing the meal would trigger the same horror as before. It was vicious. So vicious she began to wonder whether a demon had simply stolen Sehwa’s skin. Fine. She would eat. If eating could prevent tragedy, she would do it.
Still trembling, the Doctor rose and walked to the table. Unconsciously her hand drifted to her belly. She wasn’t hungry; she was worried about the child.
“There is nothing wrong with your baby. We ran tests with medical equipment while you were unconscious.”
Sehwa was already sitting across from her. The Doctor felt a wave of relief, yet curiosity soon followed. Sehwa, now one of Tyrat’s minions, was cruel. Using the child as a hostage should have been the obvious move. So why was she taking such gentle care instead?
Gathering courage from Sehwa’s unexpectedly soft expression, the Doctor asked.
“Why… are you looking after my child?”
“Because your child will serve my master—that is, the Demon King.”
What…?
She dared speak of turning her own child into Tyrat’s servant? It was unthinkable. The Doctor exploded.
“Bullshit! That will never happen!”
“I’ll overlook it just this once. Calm yourself immediately.”
Anger threatened to boil over, but the Doctor knew Sehwa was right. She could not endure another binary choice. After a few ragged breaths she let out a long sigh and apologized obediently.
“I’m sorry…”
“I understand how you feel, Doctor. It must seem hopeless to hand your child over to the enemy’s leader. But what if your assumptions are mistaken?”
Mistaken? What kind of nonsense was this now…?
“What are you talking about?”
“Never mind. Just eat.”
It was obvious she would receive no real answer. Resigned, the Doctor looked at the Korean-style porridge and cup of water on the table. They must have chosen a gentle menu expecting her stomach to be upset… The carrot-and-stick routine was almost laughable.
She lifted a spoonful. The familiar sticky, soft texture spread across her tongue. Before she realized it, her expression had relaxed. She began to eat slowly.
Sehwa rested her chin on her hand, watching with interest.
“How does it taste?”
“It’s delicious…”
She meant it. The porridge was genuinely wonderful—so good she could imagine eating it every single day.
“I made it myself. Have as much as you like.”
“…Yeah. I will.”
The Doctor moved her spoon with steady, almost eager motions, scraping the bowl clean. Her nerves were still raw, her stomach still churning, yet she devoured the food like a starving animal. She must have been hungrier than she realized.
After finishing every last bite and downing the water in the pink cup in one gulp, she licked her lips. Then she froze and glanced at Sehwa. Had she just smacked her lips like some greedy pig? She felt both pathetic and ridiculous.
“You ate well. Would you like more?”
“.....”
Honestly, she did. But pride and lingering defiance kept the words stuck in her throat. Sehwa simply smiled, waiting patiently for an answer.
After a brief but intense internal struggle, the Doctor surrendered to temptation.
“Can you… give me more?”
Sehwa’s smile brightened. She stood up at once.
“Of course. Wait just a moment.”
Humming a cheerful tune, Sehwa left the room. The Doctor stared at the empty bowl, conflicted. For some reason Sehwa’s kindness unsettled her. After a long moment of hesitation she turned her back to the surveillance camera, lifted the bowl to her face, and began licking the remaining traces like an animal.
She didn’t even realize what she was doing. She simply followed instinct, following the desire to taste more of that delicious porridge.