Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Inside Out (4)
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***
“....Haa. Damn my rotten luck.”
Having grabbed Professor by the collar and glared at him, Woojin spat out a heavy sigh laden with meaning and slumped back into his seat.
“Hey, Metaljaw.”
Ian flinched!
“W-what! I’m done treating it, so don’t mess with it! It’s clean! Perfectly tied up!”
“Cut the bullshit and hand over a smoke.”
Ian’s face, watching from the corner with wide eyes, scrunched up in annoyance.
“Aw, man.... Old timer, you know how many smokes you’ve bummed off me? Even roughly counting, it’s over a pack. That’s enough to snag a sweet machine gun from the exchange on the cheap....”
“So, you’re saying no?”
“......”
Whoosh—
Thud!
“Thanks.”
“Must be nuclear bombs even ghosts snatch away. Seeing a geezer like you still kicking.”
In the end, Ian emptied his pocket. Truth be told, he could’ve held out and not given it, but that’d probably make the old man fly off the handle big time. Ian was the kind of guy who’d gladly sacrifice a cig for a buddy held hostage by a wild beast.
He bobbed it up and down.
“Jaw.”
“Ah, what now! No filters on these!”
“Not that. Light.”
Crackle!
Ian swallowed a burst of curses and yanked a silver Zippo from his pocket, hurling it full force.
Scraaape!
“Thanks.”
“Fuck off and die.”
Click—fwoosh!
Fizz, fizz.
Woojin lit the cig in his mouth and took a deep drag. As the poison filling his demon-twisted face melted away with the smoke, peace returned to his expression.
“Fwew. Jaw, if your gunrunning goes bust, grow smokes instead. Everything happens for a reason, they say. Probably picked you up from that truck wreck in the wasteland that day just to mooch these. Mmm~ Maybe ’cause it’s not my money, but damn, this hits different.”
“....Ptoo.”
Ian spat into the spittoon jar in one corner of the clinic, face all sour. The old man cackled like he was about to die laughing at the sight.
Watching Woojin go from murderously pissed one second to grinning the next left Professor dumbfounded, sighing in disbelief.
“If there’d just been one more doc in the wasteland, I wouldn’t be here. Getting therapy from a bipolar nutcase.”
“Don’t set your standards to pre-fall, kid. Compared to habitual self-harm, suicide attempts, PTSD, and schizophrenia, bipolar’s small potatoes.”
Woojin shut Professor up like a clam, then tossed the lighter back to Ian. By the time the room filled with smoke from their cigs and Bex slunk back in from wherever he’d hidden, Woojin spoke up.
“‘Possession,’ huh..... Professor Park, didn’t you quit that game? Said your parents’ cloned data made you feel guilty, scared you’d get sucked back in anyway?”
“Haaa. Yeah. Still feel that way. But wasteland life ain’t about doing just what you want.”
Professor unraveled the past 12 days with a bittersweet, distant look. Thinking back, it was absurd. Generator bust, starting the concept playthrough, meeting Notum, entering Turan as a conscript and surviving to meet Charlotte and Edenora, turning debtor from Corduro’s dogshit and heading to Sector 43 only to crash into Sector 45’s treasure hunt, meeting these two friends now listening with bunny eyes behind him, becoming a test subject to conquer his mom’s trauma, meeting Hyde, smashing the mage tower, and ending up here. Even saying it himself, he couldn’t believe it all crammed into 12 days. Even with game time flowing five times faster than reality, it was too much.
Woojin listened quietly, eyes closed, to the steady stream from Professor’s mouth.
“....And that’s how this Hyde guy settled in my head. No clue on the mechanics, but like he says, fretting over what’s already happened is the dumbest shit. I agree. Barely enough time to worry about what’s coming, no point chewing the past.”
“Hmm..... Quite the······. Impressive tale. Possession’s been a hot topic in the community for ages.”
Woojin stubbed out the cig Ian gave him—burnt to the filter—spat the ash from his mouth, and spoke gravely.
“Professor Park. Got a mountain of things to say, but let’s hit this first. You like that ‘Hyde’ guy, don’t you?”
“....Pardon?”
No way the old fart finally lost it. What the hell?
“What’s that.... Mean like narcissism or something?”
“Dunno. Listened to your whole story, and every time you mentioned that parasite or Hyde or whatever, it felt······. Awfully positive. Even though he’s rummaging your memories, dredging traumas, hell, even hijacking parts of your body.”
“I. Did that?”
Woojin frowned at Professor’s flustered face. Truth be told, he had no real expertise. Just that 90% of patients were headcases, so he got used to it.
“Yeah. We go way back. I know you pretty well, Professor Park······.”
Tap tap tap.
Woojin glanced at Ian behind Professor, drumming the desk. Ian, eyes gleaming with interest, tossed over the whole pack.
Click—
“First off, Professor, you’re a textbook severe attachment deficiency case.”
Woojin lit another and broke down what he knew.
“You probably think you’re numb to that stuff. Survived war, lasted long in the wasteland. But what carried you through that brutal life? That massive love memory from your parents, too big to handle. Your life had no compass—just chained to that memory.”
Professor wanted to argue but had nothing. Surviving just to survive was spot on.
“More like······. Love addiction than deficiency. Wastelander cold logic and all, but you can’t turn away anyone who approaches positive. Call it ‘easy mark’? Soon as they offer a hand, you grab it, no hesitation. ’Cause deep in your soul’s etched that memory of love poured out, sacrificing everything. You’re wired not to betray that expectation.”
Tap, tap.
Woojin ashed into the tray. Professor felt like that flicked ember stripped his rational shell, exposing raw insides—embarrassing.
“Same reaction to that Hyde friend. Started rough, but warmed up, right? So you started hoping unconsciously. ‘Dangerous, but maybe we can coexist?’ Recent fun times with new pals helped too. That ‘lonely solo life’ clinging like skin peeled off.”
[Heh heh heh. Shell, that’s what he says? Kinda touching?]
“That’s ridiculous....!”
“Oh, denying it? Know what? Since you walked in, not once asked me how to get rid of this ‘mental illness.’ Just dumped the story. You’re conflicted. Instinct says he’s dangerous, but you feel friendship. Companion who peered into your deepest core. Maybe he could be that—thought like that’s why you came. Said it’s for treatment, but really just venting. ‘Here’s what happened, hear me out.’ That’s the goal.”
Twenty-four years old, acting like a damn kid.
Woojin trailed off. In the heavy silence as the haze settled, Bex spoke up.
“Uh.... Gets it’s important, very. But what now....?”
“Hm? Oh, right. Damn, getting old—rambling. Bottom line: regardless of your opinion, Professor, that Hyde’s gotta go.”
Professor flinched!
[Oh shit.]
Professor’s left fingers twitched at Woojin’s words.
“Just normal split personality, maybe cope somehow. But from your story, that Hyde consciousness is growing fast? Feeding on Professor Park’s memories, no less. Serious shit. Wants out to the world, growing quick, full control over body parts. Human body tries fixing abnormalities naturally. It hasn’t faded, means growth outpaces recovery. If Hyde overtakes you?”
“....Gets swallowed.”
“Spot on. Then body’ll purge the smaller Professor consciousness to ‘normalize.’ No telling the timeline. You still dominate, 24 years of self ain’t weak. But,”
Woojin removed his glasses, face dead serious.
“Leave it, and someday ‘Professor Park’ consciousness vanishes. Like that famous cannibal horror player, or others who lost minds to possession, glitched out till death. GG ain’t just for laughs. Some massive unknown purpose behind it.”
Woojin eyed Professor’s twitching left hand.
Tap, tootap—,tap,tap,tap,tootap—
While Professor was lost in the story, subtle finger Morse code flashed at him.
[Fuck you. Eat shit. Old man.]
“....Professor Park, you know Morse?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Learned in the army······. Forgot most.”
“Yeah. Right······.”
Cocky little shit.
A feral smile curled Woojin’s lips at the still-twitching fingers.
“Session’s dragging. Let’s conclude. Not fixable with sedatives or whatever. GG program reads consciousness, acts it out—implanted that. Post-apoc tech can’t touch it.”
Snap!
Woojin lightning-snapped his arm, pinning Professor’s left hand to the desk. A scalpel gleamed in his right.
“Guh!”
Whoosh!
“Hey, Woojin! What the hell!”
“Drop the blade. Touch my patient, I slit your throat.”
“Ha! Try it. First method. Those three left fingers moving now, right?”
Razor edge kissed skin, crimson welled.
“Chop ’em off. Leave him spinning helpless in your skull.”
“Y-you bastard! Old man calling that······!”
“Bex, calm—shit!”
Crash clang!
Ian pinned the bloodshot-eyed Bex flailing on the floor.
“Old timer! That really the only way! Hey! Professor! Say something!”
“Not won’t—can’t! Losing territory, it’s thrashing! Or answer! No answer, means no strength to fight, fingers get chopped!”
“Grr, grrrrr!!”
As Woojin said, Professor’s mind drowned in chaos. Playful Hyde vanished; incoherent frenzy—panic, rage, greed, worry, faint sorrow—whipped his brain.
Professor knew. Hyde eyed his body, but wasn’t evil. Just an untaught kid. Ineffable understanding between overlapping consciousnesses.
‘Gotta explain, explain.... Stay still, please!’
Couldn’t move or speak. Not total takeover—Hyde’s frenzy paralyzed his brain.
“Counting to three! One!”
‘Damn it, Hyde! Calm down! This way, we both lose fingers!’
He felt it clear. Hyde was terrified. Losing his last sense organ—touch—doomed to indirect scraps like before.
‘No, deeper······. Fundamental fear.... Loneliness?’
Then Professor got it. Where, what went wrong.
[I gotta treat this ‘mental illness.’]
Offhand shelter quip.
Hyde’s near-clone of his soul. Now at the hospital for him, terrified of abandonment. Born in his mind, talked to him, learned through him, sensed the world. To Hyde, he was family.
“Two!”
‘If that’s it, say so earlier! Dumbass pretending nothing, sealing lips, acting fine with jokes! Exactly, exactly·····.’
Like me. Resembled pre-trauma him.
‘Always learn the shit I say don’t! Useless scheming, yapping big with nothing—’
“Thre—”
“Being a frustrating dumbass brooding alone!!”
Boom!
Scalpel a hair from fingers, Professor bellowed, slamming his head on the desk, eyes bulging.
Drip. Drip.
Regaining control just in time, blood trickling from forehead untouched, he locked eyes with Woojin.
“Why scare a not-even-one-year-old you barely know! Kid’s freaking out now!”
Woojin’s icy glare, Bex writhing under Ian—all froze at Professor’s yell.
“Huh, huhehehe, kuhahaha! Krhihihihik!”
Then Woojin’s frozen lips twitched, erupting in mad laughter.
“Oh man, world! Thought it’d work, but this good! ‘Kid’ he says, ‘kid’! What’re you doing to our ‘kid,’ krhahaha! Oh lord!”
Woojin laughed endlessly at stunned Professor.
“Just testing, you idiot! How close you and that thing are!”
***