The Sacrifice Has Opinions

Na Hwiyeon looked down at the cigarette butts piled thick on the ground.

It had already been two hours, and Yoo Jinchae was still perched on the stone steps doing nothing but smoking. As the acrid smoke filled her lungs, she could feel the knot of complicated emotions in her chest loosen—just a little.

I get that she needs to clear her head, but….

At this rate, wasn't she just rotting her lungs out?

Then, suddenly, a door opened in the building next door and the area grew noisy. Even so, Yoo Jinchae didn't so much as twitch, her gaze still fixed on the ground.

Before long, she could catch a conversation carried on in whispers, as if the speakers were trying not to be overheard.

"So they say it got cleared?"

"Yeah, cleared after losing their youngest. Officially they're calling it an accident, but the way I see it, it was a sacrifice. The kid wrapped herself around the boss alone and went into her hallucination—how is that an accident? Because of her, three people made it back in one piece, team leader included."

"God…. Honestly, what a mess. I can't believe that lunatic in our department was still sitting on that dungeon. Wasn't he supposed to sell it to the Americans? The grudge runs deep, huh—how do you hand that thing to Team Ra of all people?"

"That's what I'm saying! We almost got chewed out over it too. One psycho, and now look at this mess."

"He made his own bed. I heard the company cut him loose and the head office is suing him. No telling how the verdict lands, but this is murder, plain and simple."

"If the company hadn't pressed charges, there'd have been blood in our department. You saw it yourself—one of the field Ra teams marched into the office armed the moment the news broke."

The employees, decked out head to toe in black suits, lit their own cigarettes across from Yoo Jinchae and kept right on talking.

"Wouldn't be surprised if they dissolve the field Ra teams entirely. The mood over there's like a funeral home."

"It was a funeral, genius."

A snort of suppressed laughter.

"Ugh. If their team leader hadn't run his mouth, that psycho never would've done it in the first place…."

"Field team leaders are all like that, though."

Na Hwiyeon was seized by a miserable feeling. Judging by the flow of the conversation, those mouthy jerks across the way were clearly from the Resource Allocation Department.

But still….

Are those people even human?

Yoo Jinchae had lost a teammate. She'd watched a twenty-year-old die right in front of her—the kid she'd seen face to face with, without fail, at least six hours every single day.

At the very least, have the decency to pick the time and place to run your mouths.

In the end, she didn't get up until the employees had smoked their cigarettes down to the filters and wandered off. Then she returned to the silent spot where only her two remaining teammates waited.

Looking at the two team members whose faces were wrecked with tears, Yoo Jinchae finally spoke.

"I'm quitting. I can't go somewhere high up ever again."

In the flattest, most matter-of-fact tone imaginable.

I opened my eyes.

The window I'd been hoping for finally appeared.

But I wasn't happy about it.

My heart wasn't just heavy—it felt like it was clogging up my chest entirely.

Unlike with Kwon Haeseong, no words of comfort came to me clearly.

What on earth am I supposed to say to her?

I was starting to slightly regret having so boldly guaranteed the skill would work.

I made my way over to where Yoo Jinchae still lay on the cold iron floor, and quietly pulled away the jacket I'd draped over her.

The moment it lifted, she cracked open one eye and addressed me.

"…Huh. I feel fine now, all of a sudden. What's going on here?"

What's going on? Time travel, that's what. The results of my little trip to the past.

"…I'm glad you're feeling better. Do you think you can walk now?"

"Yeah, totally. It's like my head just went whoosh, all calm and settled? Anyway, there's strength back in my arms and legs…. Wait—did you pour a potion on me or something?"

"…No. I don't carry potions in my bag. I took a different measure."

"A different measure? What measure?"

"That's a secret."

"Aw, come on~ Now that's just cold."

What was I going to do with this woman?

Yoo Jinchae was a rational person. That was the thoroughly objective conclusion I'd reached from living over a month inside ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her head.

Someone who knew how to prioritize and acted on logic rather than emotion.

Giving up on searching for her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠teammates past the one-month mark in the dungeon, and devoting herself solely to finding the gate exit—rational.

Squeezing every scrap of time out of those hellish forty days—rational.

And deciding to resign not out of guilt or a sense of responsibility, but out of pure, level-headed judgment—every last bit of it proved she was a rational person.

The reason Yoo Jinchae left BOND's field team was simple.

She'd judged that she would never again be able to face a high place.

Field hunters were people thrown into extraordinary situations day after day. If she went back into the field and came face to face with a height like that again, she knew she'd freeze up exactly as she had today, able to do nothing at all.

Ten years at a company, and she just up and quits like that. What decisiveness.

And yet a woman with that kind of resolve and rationality was now grinning at me like a kid playing a prank.

It's not like this started the moment she joined the kindergarten, right?

I swallowed a sigh.

…Either way, the point was that shallow consolation or encouragement would only poison someone like Yoo Jinchae.

Which meant that for now—

"My, you two seem close. Well, I suppose it's only natural for comrades-in-arms to bond after weathering hardship together?"

—that had to be dealt with first.

Knock knock. A refined voice sounded after mimicking a knock with its mouth alone.

I turned my head, and there in the darkness stood a face far more vivid than it had been under the dim lighting—every line of it sharply defined.

Fitting for someone who ate and slept within the cult: a pleasing, likable face atop a tall, well-proportioned frame.

"For such an expensive offering, I pray that tonight, at last, bears fruit."

The cult leader was smiling serenely at us, hands pressed together in prayer.

Yoo Jinchae had pulled Na Hwiyeon's jacket down carefully over her face, hiding every inch of it.

Even so, sitting cross-legged on the floor, all she had to do was tilt her head up, and—

she could see her coworker, standing before the barred cell, viciously cursing out the man the cultists called their leader.

"Bears fruit, my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠freezing foot. Hey, wipe that cursed mug out of here and unlock this thing already. You really think pulling this stunt lets you see a demon? Even grade schoolers these days think summoning rituals are lame and won't touch them."

"……I can tell the offering is deeply distressed. However, this is no mere child's ritual—it is a solemn procedure governed by rules and—"

"Looks like a summoning ritual with money stuffed under it, that's all I see. If I were a demon, I wouldn't bother with a dump this pathetic. How would I even know what kind of idiotic wish you'd be groveling for?"

"Soon…. When you are offered to the Demon Lord, most precious one, I have no intention of treating you poorly."

"Oh, I'm sure. People like you go on and on about faith while never once considering offering yourself up as the sacrifice, you cowards. You've spent your whole lives exploiting the physically weak and the emotionally fragile instead! Sweet words—that's what you people call mercy, isn't it!"

Just as Na Hwiyeon was huffing and bristling with rage, he suddenly turned and came walking straight toward her.

Yoo Jinchae flinched—but then, seeing his perfectly calm face as he approached, she only grew more bewildered.

How many faces does this guy have?

Furious as a wildfire one second, cool as ice the next?

But what he said next threw her even more.

"Were you able to see his face just now? I lured him closer on purpose, but it didn't work out too well."

What was with this guy? So the whole tantrum a second ago was just a setup to get the cult leader's face close enough for her to study?

…What… what is this person?

Why is he so damn sharp?

Yoo Jinchae stared at him, dazed, and then—as if bewitched—her mouth fell open. It was a line she'd spat out on reflex for the past ten years, whenever she spotted promising talent.

"This might be forward, but… do you have any interest in BOND itself? Not the kindergarten—the company."

"……I do keep an eye on the stock now and then."

"No, no. The field divisions… Hunters."

"Absolutely not. Not in this life or the next."

"……Tsk. Understood."

She'd never seen someone recoil that violently.

Yoo Jinchae smacked her lips and swallowed her disappointment. Right, that wasn't the important thing right now.

"So what happens after you turn into him?"

Na Hwiyeon crouched down on the floor, seeming to mull it over for a moment before answering reluctantly—wearing the expression of a man who doubted she'd understand a word of it.

What on earth is he planning?

As Na Hwiyeon's calm explanation unfolded, Yoo Jinchae found herself unable to close her mouth.

Then, halfway through, she couldn't take it anymore and shot her hand up!

"Hold on! Say we do get out of this cell. Do you really think the people out there are going to listen to me just because I'm wearing the cult leader's face? What if I blurt out that the ritual is suddenly cancelled—they might dig in and refuse to leave!"

"There is a way around that as well. But per the plan, Teacher, I think it's better you don't know."

Good grief.

Na Hwiyeon was playing a completely different game.

Yoo Jinchae's entire plan had been to slip out with just herself, Na Hwiyeon, and the clueless high schooler Ahn Param.

…And then, afterward, call the police or the company or somebody.

But this man—this man intended to make sure that the building itself, the summoning ritual itself, could never be used again.

"Maybe the ritual can't happen today, but crazy people like them will try again whenever they get the chance. It might be a… pointless gesture."

"Maybe it will be."

Na Hwiyeon shrugged and carried on, as if it were no big deal.

"But after today, some of them might never set foot in a place like this again. What I'm doing, I'm doing for those people."

…He's strong. How can a person be this strong?

His core was set, solid as bedrock. Yoo Jinchae looked into Na Hwiyeon's unshaking eyes and nodded.

At her agreement, he flashed a small smile and let out a long, long breath.

"So the biggest problem right now is getting out of here and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠knocking that guy unconscious…. Apparently there's a current running through these bars. See? Even he won't touch them for anything in the world."

Yoo Jinchae stared in the direction he pointed, and for once, asked with genuine tension in her voice.

"Quick question…. Do you believe in pursuing nonviolence equally for all people, in acting ethically no matter what?"

How long had it been since I'd worried about someone else's opinion of me? Strange—this was the one person I couldn't help checking with.

"For all people? No. I'm no saint. I pursue peace, but I don't love the people who break it."

Na Hwiyeon said it with a conflicted expression—but Yoo Jinchae, on the other hand, felt a weight lift clean off her chest.

Good enough for me.

She sprang to her feet.

Then she strode toward the man who couldn't quite bring himself to touch the bars, peering desperately into the cell.

THIS guy is a cult leader?

"Excuse me—could you come a little closer, please?"

"Oh! At last, another believer deigns to look upon me."

The moment she confirmed the cult leader had drawn near the bars, Yoo Jinchae yanked the jacket down off her head.

His reaction changed in an instant.

"Wh-what the—?! You're not Moon Chaeyoung!! How am I supposed to—!"

The shocked man thrust his face in between the bars, sputtering. She didn't miss her chance—she shot her arm through the gap, seized him by the hair, and wrenched with all her strength.

"AAAGH!! What—what do you think you're doing?! Let go, now!"

Then she raised her other fist. Bam. Right to the jaw.

"One hit's not enough, huh."

Again.

Bam.

Bam.

Between the barrage of blows and the current biting into his shoulders, the man's upper body went slack and crumpled downward, boneless.

Finally out cold.

Yoo Jinchae dusted off her hands and rifled through the unconscious man's pockets.

Right—here it should be.

Her fingers closed around a key that looked, to anyone's eyes, exactly like the key to these cell bars. She pulled it out, and in one motion swung the cell door open—

-Squeeeak.

"Teacher, the door's open!"

she announced to Na Hwiyeon, beaming with pride!