#01 Beast's Playground (2)
1. You can never truly know another person's true nature. No matter how much you love them, no matter how sharp-eyed or perceptive you are, piercing through the deep subconscious is incredibly difficult. Even when it comes to your own. Yuchan could confront these inherent human flaws, ones that should trap people in pitch-black darkness. Innate temperament and essence as symbols. Ever-shifting emotions and psyche as colors.
At first, others' Black Boxes didn't appear in clear forms. They were just faint arrays of colors. Back then, he had no idea what they meant. Amid the flickering lights of varying shapes and hues, he simply felt they were beautiful. He dreamed of gathering them, sealing them in a glass jar for himself alone, making them shine eternally. That was all he thought about.
2. He had until 10 a.m. to clock in. Having some morning leeway unlike typical office workers was a big perk. Even so, Yuchan set out at dawn, lunchbox in hand, when the surroundings were still shrouded in gloom. A used domestic SUV costing around 30 million won. It was the first thing he'd bought after inheriting a massive fortune from his only family-like figure, his uncle. He could have afforded far pricier rides, but anything more felt like extravagance.
He warmed the cold seat with his body heat, then started the engine a moment later. He had a stop to make before the gym. Leftover bones from boiling beef stock or rotten meat? Toss them in the food waste bin. But human remains? Casually dumping them in the bin out front could spell disaster.
Disposing of bodies was tricky. Dissolving with acid meant enduring massive toxic fumes and stench. And did it even liquefy cleanly? No. Cremation. Human sizes ranged from 40kg to over 100kg, but turning any to ash required intense heat and firepower. So, on hold. Burial. Korea had plenty of mountains—and secluded spots untouched by eyes. But it was a flood-prone land. Contrary to image, mountain beasts loved digging up buried meat chunks. Either way, if the body surfaced, police tracing followed.
Concrete burial. After death, blood and proteins began rotting after a time, sulfurous gases bloating the corpse, cracking set concrete, and wafting stench everywhere. Worst option.
Without proper gear or special tricks, slipping through tight security meant staying diligent. Hitting the freeway out of Ilsan, Paju's rice fields came into view. Quiet roads and irrigation canals aplenty. Ground-up meat from a mere 800g tomahawk steak wouldn't even sate a school of minnows for a day.
Under a lonely streetlamp, Yuchan pulled over, twisted open the lunchbox, and scraped out the well-minced flesh—like hamburger patty dough—with a spoon. He'd need another blender soon. A single guy buying multiples might draw eyes. He made and swapped blades, but the motor had recently burned out from overload. Regrettable.
He watched the red-and-white chunks sink into the purgatory-like water until the end, then turned the car toward the gym near the academy. Physical and mental training was always key. He believed a healthy body housed a healthy mind.
"Hyungnim, you're early again today. Another drive?"
The trainer at the counter, dozing off with sleepy nods, greeted him warmly. Yuchan had forgotten his name, but after two years of seeing his face, they chatted lightly.
"Morning air's nice, right?"
"Sure, but guarding the gym from dawn's a grind."
After changing, as Yuchan lay on the bench, the trainer hovered nearby. Empty gym at this hour must make his mouth itch for talk.
"Hyungnim, city hall's got a bodybuilding contest soon. Thinking of entering?"
"Not interested. What would a normie like me do there?"
"Then why train so hard? Seeing you gives me a crisis."
His workouts weren't for bulking, so it didn't show much over clothes, but in Under Armour, Yuchan's body was honed like a carnivore's. The trainer, pitying his silent dedication, always nagged him to compete big and small.
"Just a hobby."
"Such a waste. Real diet control for a month, you could aim for first."
"Not interested."
He endured the chatter, shared a rooftop smoke, then wrapped up.
3. Post-workout timing was awkward for killing time, so he arrived around 8:30.
"Teacher Yuchan, good morning!"
"The three of you aren't late today?"
"Last time was the shuttle bus, I swear."
Tucking a book under his arm for downtime reading, students greeted him first as he strolled. Handsome enough, sociable. No rough edges, blending effortlessly with a laid-back vibe—he was popular at the academy. Plus, he handled counseling so well, some kids were already dependent.
Counselors needed intimacy during sessions but distance outside. Knowing his job boiled down to hearing kids' gripes, he never took it seriously. Replying to greetings, he reached the corner counseling room and opened the solid wood door—real timber for a premium feel.
The modest five-pyeong space was tailored to his tastes. Blinds on the window, desk before it, wall-hugging bookshelves packed with tomes exuding intellect. Facing it: sofa and knee-high table for clients. Corner fold-out bed for naps or overnight stays.
"Hello."
A visitor already. Nayae Choi. Quiet vibe, ponytail draped over her chest. Round gold-rimmed glasses always on, but with a touch of makeup in college, she'd be engineering goddess material—prime stock.
"I heard from the kids you do great counseling. I have something I want to talk about. Is that okay?"
"Sit a bit longer first? Should've turned on the heater. It's chilly."
The room was cold from overnight chill, so he handed her a lap blanket. Nayae murmured thanks and wrapped her legs tight. He passed fresh coffee and sat opposite on the sofa.
"What's up?"
First time she'd come. One of the students he'd eyed, so he was pleased. For hesitant clients, he offered warm coffee and comfortable silence. Glancing nervously, Nayae spoke cautiously.
"It's not about studying... Is it okay to talk about that?"
"Of course. What else do exam-takers worry about? What we discuss here is our secret—just you and me. Take your time, start wherever."
Pretending to wait, he subtly peeked at her Black Box. Symbol: salmon. He saw only symbol and color. Interpretation was pure observation and symbolism knowledge. Salmon symbolized vitality first—unyielding will when applied to people. Contrary to her frail look, strong convictions. Second: regression. Salmon live in oceans, return to rivers to spawn and die. Nayae valued the past in life judgments. Even in happy moments, she'd endlessly regret and yearn backward. If only I'd done better then, those days were happier, murmuring such.
Basic personality grasped, he checked color. Turquoise or jade. Far from passion or warmth—caution, composure, solitude, distrust. She observed her plight calmly yet harbored deep distrust of others. Murky hue. Unchanged for long—months of dragged worry.
"No rush. If not ready, start with easy stuff?"
"Ah? Yes."
Better build rapport first than force it. Even if she'd come with a problem, pushing bred backlash. Trust first, then she'd open.
"What's your hobby, Nayae?"
"Huh? Not talking studies?"
"It's fine. You study past 10 p.m. every day, right? First out mornings."
"How'd you know?"
"I always watch the students closely. It's my job. You're one of the diligent ones."
"Thank you."
Blushing at light praise, she touched her mouth shyly.
"Hobby... swimming. Weekends, indoor pool, two hours."
"Swimming?"
"Yes, stamina matters too."
Even hobbies tied to exams showed her model student drive. She boasted modestly about record swims; he nodded along. Nayae barely spoke at the academy. Two months in, always solo meals, no friends. For studies, sure, but lonely. Yuchan's disarming talk loosened her; vibe flowing, she spilled recent trivia excitedly.
"...So my appetite's good lately."
"Not saying eating hard's exam duty, I hope?"
"No way."
Her smiling face stiffened. The docile turquoise salmon rippled faintly. An hour of chit-chat; time for the real issue.
"I agonized long over telling you."
"Spill anything. Not sure how much I can do, but I'll try within reach."
"Keep it secret, promise."
Clutching fists, pleading eyes, more hesitations—then she spoke. Boyfriend counseling. High school sweetheart, a year together. Started her senior year, progressed to sex. But college guy turned dropout thug. Revealed true colors as they grew close. Love soured, exams loomed—she broke it off two months back.
"But..."
Composed till then, she removed glasses, wiped tears. Voice quivered, agitated.
"He... has videos of us having sex... Keeps demanding I meet him... Or he'll spread them..."
"Calm down, calm. That's enough for now."
Rubbing her heaving back as she sobbed. Boyfriend talk deflated him a bit. More serious and annoying than thought.
"I didn't know... Never thought he'd be like that."
Best fix: police. But fear of spread stopped her. Even if cops intervened late, net-posted vids were irretrievable. Countless sites—how delete all?
"Not your fault."
"Teacher, what do I do? I don't know. So scary, so hard..."
He checked the hall for passersby.
"I'll handle it."
Normally, he'd soothe and suggest cops vaguely. But Yuchan knew how to solve this. Somewhat illegal, risky blowback possible.
"Huh?"
"His contact and name?"
"No, you don't have to go that far."
"You're mature, Nayae, but still a student. Leave this to adults."
Not some cheap justice. He didn't care. Reward? Deep bond. Beyond counselor-client lines—transference. Thick, sticky tie. Prime chance.
Was Nayae worth the hassle? Answer: yes.