Those Who Tend the Scrub (6)
“W-Wait a second……!”
Yoo Gi-seong protested, but the gas mask was soon ripped off and sent flying far away.
“You bastard! Gah?!”
That wasn’t the end of it. As Go Cheon-su clamped down on his throat, Yoo Gi-seong’s face twisted in agony.
Go Cheon-su smirked mockingly at him, lifting the corner of his mouth.
“How’s that? Hard to breathe, huh?”
“Eeeeeek! Uwaaaaaah!”
The moment Yoo Gi-seong let out a guttural screech and thrashed wildly, lunging to bite Go Cheon-su’s face—
Clang! A can of tuna flew in and jammed straight into his mouth.
“Mmph?!”
Go Cheon-su didn’t miss the opening. He slammed a brutal fist into Yoo Gi-seong’s cheek.
Crack! Teeth shattered all at once, and Yoo Gi-seong’s body toppled sideways.
Thud crash! As the guy sprawled out dramatically, letting out something between a scream and a groan, Jang Seo-yeon strode over and stomped down.
“You crazy fuck!”
She stomped relentlessly—his wrists, his neck, his face, everywhere.
“Die! Just fucking die!”
If Go Cheon-su hadn’t woken up, she would’ve been done for. Channeling all that rage, she kept kicking over and over until suddenly Go Cheon-su grabbed her shoulder.
“Enough.”
Yoo Gi-seong was already out cold.
Go Cheon-su shook his head at Jang Seo-yeon.
“That’s enough.”
“But……!”
Jang Seo-yeon, mid-rant, suddenly staggered like she was dizzy.
“Ah.”
“See?”
Go Cheon-su supported her as he spoke.
“You pushed yourself too hard.”
She couldn’t move properly anymore. Go Cheon-su sat her down, grabbed the wildly flailing rubber hose spraying water everywhere, and splashed some on her hands.
“You touched those canned goods, huh? You caused an accident while I was out.”
“Th-The accident was your fault……”
Go Cheon-su grinned at her words.
“But you woke up right when I needed you. Right?”
“……”
Jang Seo-yeon clamped her mouth shut, staring at Go Cheon-su’s brazen confidence. It pissed her off a little, but she couldn’t hate him. He really had come through when it counted.
“Alright then.”
Leaving Jang Seo-yeon there, Go Cheon-su turned to Yoo Gi-seong.
“Now, how should we cook this bastard up?”
The viewers’ opinions were certainly worth considering. But only considering—that was it.
“Brothers, hear me out……”
Go Cheon-su grabbed Yoo Gi-seong’s ankle.
“I think the top priority is making sure he can’t run anywhere.”
Crunch. This time, the ankle twisted around.
“Gaaaaah!”
Even Yoo Gi-seong, who’d seemed unconscious, screamed in pain.
“Oh, what? You were awake? Don’t do that.”
Go Cheon-su reached for the other ankle. Yoo Gi-seong flailed his hand out and yelled.
“Wait! J-Just hold on!”
“Why?”
Go Cheon-su looked puzzled.
“You’re just stalling for time anyway.”
He’d woken up late, but the viewers had filled him in on everything. Go Cheon-su might sleep, but the viewers didn’t.
“You think a guy who lit himself on fire would give in to this much?”
Yoo Gi-seong was ready to embrace death anyway—the most painful kind, burning alive. So Go Cheon-su had no reason to go easy.
Crunch.
“See? All good.”
“Gaaaaaaaah!”
Yoo Gi-seong writhed, his shattered wrists and ankles flopping limply as he howled like a beast.
“Grandpa! Grandpa!”
But mixed in were words Go Cheon-su hadn’t expected.
“Grandpa?”
Go Cheon-su pinned down the thrashing Yoo Gi-seong and asked.
“Who’s grandpa? Aren’t you the only one here?”
“Grandpa! Over here! Grandpa!”
“I’m asking.”
“Grand…… guk!”
Go Cheon-su’s fist smashed into his cheekbone again.
Krunch! Bone caved in, crumpling Yoo Gi-seong’s face.
It wasn’t just numbers on a screen—his physical abilities had nearly doubled, and every function in his body had surged along with it, letting him wield his strength more efficiently. Go Cheon-su snapped out of his brief rage-fueled punch and asked again.
“Who’s grandpa?”
But this time, Yoo Gi-seong had truly lost consciousness. No, it was worse—he wasn’t getting back up. His face was smashed in, and that was the end of him.
“Go Cheon-su.”
Jang Seo-yeon called from behind, her voice uneasy.
“Does that mean there’s another psycho besides this guy?”
“Looks like it.”
If so, even if Yang Min-cheol was alive……
“Jang Seo-yeon.”
Go Cheon-su clenched his fist tight.
“I’ll go pull some weeds.”
Meanwhile, near another basement.
Beneath the warm morning sunlight filtering through the trees, an old man was diligently digging with a shovel.
“Nice weather today.”
He wiped sweat from his brow, noting how deeply the hole went, up to his neck level.
“What’s taking that Gi-seong so long?”
“Ugh……”
A groan from the side drew his gaze. There lay Yang Min-cheol, hands bound behind his back.
The old man smiled.
“Young folks really are resilient.”
Even at this hour, the paralytic toxin made it hard to wake. He’d once accidentally inhaled some himself and been out all day.
“Better hurry it up.”
He dug faster, soon uncovering tree roots.
“That’ll do.”
Climbing out of the pit, he sighed once, then hoisted Yang Min-cheol and tossed him in.
“Guh?!”
The heavy impact finally jolted Yang Min-cheol awake, eyes snapping open.
“Wh-Where…… is this……”
Pain wracked his body; he grimaced and looked side to side. Just dirt, rocks, and tree roots. Lifting his gaze upward, he spotted the old man peering down from the pit’s edge.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
Yang Min-cheol’s eyes widened at the kindly smiling elder.
“G-Grandpa? What the hell…… Where are we?!”
“Where? In a pit, of course.”
The old man spoke softly.
“How is it? More comfortable than a bed, no?”
“What are you talking about?! Get me out of here!”
“Can’t do that.”
The old man shook his head firmly.
“You’re fertilizer now.”
Twitch.
Sensing movement nearby, Yang Min-cheol slowly turned. Twitch twitch. The tree roots were wriggling like living things.
“H-Hiii!”
Last night’s nightmare flashed back; he pressed against the pit wall and struggled to his feet.
“What the hell are those?! Don’t tell me they’re those guys from yesterday……!”
“Correct.”
The old man thumped the ground with his shovel in admiration.
“The very ones chasing you.”
“Damn it! They move during the day too?!”
“No worries. Just roots.”
The old man patted a nearby tree and chuckled heartily.
“They won’t do much besides absorb nutrients.”
“Nutrients……?”
Yang Min-cheol paled. He suddenly remembered the “fertilizer” line.
“You bastard! You’re feeding me to them……?!”
“Gotta feed ‘em during the day or they won’t absorb properly.”
The old man started shoveling dirt into the pit.
“I time the fertilizer just right. It’s a hassle, but the trees grow beautifully.”
“You’re insane! What the fuck are you doing?!”
Dirt pelted him as Yang Min-cheol yelled.
“Get me out! Let me out, you crazy old fuck!”
“No need for that language from a young man.”
The old man’s expression remained serene.
“That’s why I love plants. They don’t complain. They grow with nutrients, die quietly without.”
“Stop! Stop it……!”
Dirt blinded him, but Yang Min-cheol kept jumping to reach the rim.
“Futile effort.”
Clang! The shovel slammed into his shoulder.
“Gaaah!”
He collapsed, screaming in agony. His shoulder caved in—the blade was unnaturally sharp.
Twitch. To add insult, a root snagged his ankle.
“Uwaaaah! Let go!”
Yang Min-cheol kicked it free and scrambled to a corner. Grind. But more roots were emerging from the soil.
“……Ahh.”
“Don’t struggle too much.”
Even then, the old man kept dumping dirt on his head.
“You’ll be reborn as something else—as fertilizer.”
Yang Min-cheol sighed bitterly at the old man’s elaboration: just becoming part of something else.
“You! Is this revenge? For killing your plants?!”
“No. It hurt, sure, but the dead ones nourished the others. I just tend to what’s left. That’s my role here at the arboretum.”
“You’re fucking crazy!”
Yang Min-cheol realized words were pointless. He strained against the binding on his wrists. But it wasn’t enough.
‘It’s not that thick……!’
Some cloth like a scarf. Shaking off incoming dirt, he started jumping again.
“Let me out! Let me the fuck out, you senile prick!”
“Heh, manners slipping.”
Ignoring him, Yang Min-cheol kept screaming.
“You’re the one who should crawl in here and rot, you old fart about to kick the bucket!”
Wham! That’s when it happened. The shovel plunged deep toward the approaching Yang Min-cheol.
Rip! He’d been waiting—twisting away, the cloth binding his hands tore slightly.
“Uwaaaaaah!”
A golden opportunity. Yang Min-cheol wrenched his wrists with all his might.
Snap! The knot broke.
Screaming through the shoulder pain, he didn’t forget his next move.
“I’ll kill you, you……!”
Fueled by rage, he lunged up the pit wall.
“Y-You little……!”
The flustered old man swung the shovel down.
Thud!
“Think I’d take another hit?!”
Dodging sideways, Yang Min-cheol grabbed the shaft and yanked.
“Eek?!”
The old man lost balance and pitched forward. Yang Min-cheol dragged him into the pit.
Slam! The old man hit bottom, eyes bulging in pain, mouth agape.
“Y-You damned brat……!”
“What’s wrong? Starting to get it now that it’s you?”
Yang Min-cheol glared fiercely through his dirt-matted hair.
“Our roles are reversed now.”
If the old man was nuts, Go Cheon-su might be in unexpected danger somewhere in the arboretum. Yang Min-cheol pounced, kneeing the old man’s chest.
“Anyone else besides you? Where’s my group?!”
“Wh-Who?”
“My group! I told you about them yesterday!”
The old man smirked slyly.
“No idea. If my family took ‘em, who knows.”
“……!”
As Yang Min-cheol froze in shock, the old man grabbed a nearby rock and smashed his knee.
“Grah!”
“Can’t let your guard down!”
The old man surged up, gripping Yang Min-cheol’s shoulder.
“Gaaaaah!”
His fingers dug into the wound. Pushed back by the rising assault, Yang Min-cheol glanced at the discarded shovel.
Grip! Gritting his teeth, he shoved the old man hard, dove for the shovel, snatched it, and roared.
“You’re dead now, you old geezer!”