The Nausea of Conquest
"Ugh... Bleeegh...! Bleeegh.. Gack.."
Thud! Clang...! Roll, roll, roll..
"Cough...! Cough, cough..!"
Even though nothing more could come out of my throat, now raw and burning from the stomach acid, I kept retching from the unbearable disgust. My vision had gone blurry from the tears leaking from my reddened eyes, but I could still make out a pair of legs stopping right in front of me. The person picked up the tin bucket I had dropped and set it upright on the floor before giving my back a few gentle pats.
".. Team Leader."
"That's enough for today. You should go rest."
"..."
The Team Leader seemed to think I had vomited out of guilt for going too far, but that wasn't it at all. When I stubbornly refused her hand like a sulking child, she simply sat down beside me on the floor, matching my eye level, and waited for me to speak.
".. Team Leader."
"..."
When I called her again, my voice finally steady, she stopped patting my back and turned to meet my gaze through the eyeholes of her clown mask.
"She... was genuinely happy."
"Ung-ssi..?"
"Just because she got one extra ladle of that pathetic excuse for a meal... she thanked me. And I felt thrilled."
"..."
"It was so disgusting. The Inquisition's fanatics who called her a demon, and me... we're no different. The thought made me sick to my stomach."
It wasn't guilt that made me vomit. That fierce, beautiful woman who used to glare at me with sharp eyes and spit curses while swinging her fists... had looked up at me with a broken, grateful gaze just because I gave her a lump of slop. In that moment, an indescribable feeling—no, a clear sense of triumph—had risen inside me. The thrill of conquest. The satisfaction of knowing I could bend even her heart and emotions to my will.
"I'm scared... If this keeps going, I'll.."
".. You must have pushed yourself too hard. You should lie down for a while."
"..."
The Team Leader deliberately cut me off and pulled me to my feet. My legs wobbled.
"This was my suggestion from the start. You don't need to feel responsible. Like I said before, I trust your judgment, Ung-ssi."
"But... I.."
"First, clear your head. You don't look well."
".. I suppose not."
She took me to the recovery room. Several staff members in white coats came and went, but I just lay there staring blankly at the ceiling. When the fluorescent light finally became too bright and I closed my eyes, the afterimage still flickered behind my eyelids.
For the past week, my role during the morning counseling sessions had been extremely limited. Wearing the black priest's robe, I would stand at the door, turn on the lights, carry in the tin bucket of food and the ladle, and give her the day's ration. That was all.
Even when her temper flared and she hurled insults, the robe instantly turned her into a mouse before a cat. Could this really be called counseling?
Two weeks had already passed since the restraint collar was placed around her neck. Nearly half of the time I had been given was gone. They said it was to free them from the Stigma within the limited time we had, but this method...
"..."
Gulp, gulp, gulp.. Gulp...
Clack.
"Phew.."
I sat up and drained the cup of water beside me in one go. Reenacting her traumatic days as a prisoner had clearly affected her. She had been deeply shaken, and at the very least, she no longer showed open hostility toward me. But what I saw today... it had been shocking even for me. Her pride, which she had barely managed to hold onto, had completely collapsed, leaving only hollow exhaustion in its place.
"..."
Standing in front of the mirror beside the water dispenser, I looked at the black priest's robe I was still wearing even after leaving the isolation room. When I adjusted the collar, the unfamiliar, rough texture brushed against my fingers. Then the Team Leader's words echoed in my mind again.
'I trust your judgment, Ung-ssi.'
"..."
Maybe this sudden surge of emotion was just me trying to deny the ugly side of myself I had discovered. I wasn't sure. But my feet had already carried me back to her isolation room.
"Ung-ssi? You should rest a little longer.."
"I'm going in."
"..."
"I want to see her."
The Team Leader had tried to say something, but I had only one reason for coming here. She could have stopped me, yet she didn't.
"... Very well."
Another management team member was saying something to her, but my attention was already elsewhere. The door to the counseling area opened. I turned on the lights and walked down the narrow corridor without stumbling, stopping in front of the iron bars where she was trapped.
"..."
Her red hair was still damp and lifeless, clinging to her face, which still bore traces of the meal. I shook the bars. Clang, clang..! They were locked tight; once sealed, they weren't meant to be opened again. Of course, I didn't have the key.
"...?"
Even though the lights had been on for a while, she showed no reaction until the loud rattling made her turn her empty gaze toward me. I had rushed in on impulse, driven only by emotion. What had I even wanted to do? Had I come here just to prove I was different from them?
"Damn it.."
My stomach lurched again. I clenched my teeth and forced it down. My grip on the bars tightened. I wanted to pull her out right now. This was wrong. If only these damn bars weren't here...
Just as those thoughts grew louder in my head—
Crunch..
I staggered.
"..??"
I realized I had lost my balance for a moment while holding the bars. It shouldn't have been possible unless I possessed some hidden superhuman strength that could turn solid iron to dust in an instant.
"The bars..?"
Then I noticed the slippery sensation on my palm. The middle of the thick iron bar had vanished without a sound—no screech of metal, no sparks. Because the solid steel had melted smoothly beneath my hand.
*
"Management Team Leader, the Counselor has begun acting irregularly."
"I'm watching. No need to report every detail."
".. This violates protocol. We need to intervene immediately."
The management staff murmured among themselves as they watched the screen. No one knew what kind of trick he had used, but the Counselor had destroyed the iron bars imprisoning the inmate with his bare hands and even removed the restraints binding her limbs.
"Team Leader, No. 18's restraints..!"
"I said I'm watching, didn't I?"
".. Ugh."
The staff member had been momentarily overpowered by the atmosphere, but he understood the regulations well. He also knew they existed for their own safety. Besides, the counseling was proceeding smoothly. If they simply continued interrogating the broken No. 18, they could easily extract information. So he spoke up again.
"B-but if we leave it like this, the Counselor could be attacked. We need to send in the suppression team right away.."
".. Not yet."
"Team Leader..! This is clearly a regulation violation!"
"... Not yet. Just a little longer. Please wait."
His voice grew louder, but the Team Leader's gaze remained fixed on the screen. After removing the restraints, the Counselor had taken off his protective priest's robe without hesitation and draped it over the shoulders of No. 18, who had collapsed weakly onto the floor.
"Team Leader!"
"..."
Once she confirmed that No. 18's eyes had turned toward the Counselor on the screen, the Team Leader finally gave the order.
"Begin suppression. Remember: do not touch No. 18 at all. Focus the excessive force solely on the Counselor."
".. Did I hear that right?"
"A few broken bones will heal quickly anyway. Make it look like you're beating him half to death right in front of No. 18."
"..."
Smiling quietly, the Team Leader straightened up and finally looked away from the screen. She glanced at the suppression team as if to say, "What are you waiting for?"
"Since we've decided to trust the Counselor's judgment, we might as well help him properly."
"That.. Um, understood."
Though their expressions were reluctant, an order was an order. The suppression team followed instructions and beat the Counselor severely—far more than necessary—right in front of No. 18. Watching the brutal scene, the staff member who had first objected quietly swallowed dryly while glancing around. He had thought the Team Leader was simply favoring Ung-ssi by using a special nickname, but it seemed that wasn't the case after all.
"With this, No. 18 should finally realize who truly cares about her, right?"
"So that was the plan.."
"Whether you call it a plan or not, I was waiting. If the Counselor hadn't taken the initiative until the very end, I would have been disappointed."
"..."
The diligent suppression team dragged the Counselor out, leaving him looking like a half-corpse, just as they had been told. His clothes were torn, and vicious bruises from the batons were clearly visible beneath the rips. After a brief glance at the unconscious man, the Team Leader issued further instructions to her subordinates.
"Take the Counselor back to the recovery room and contact the Founder. We'll change the counseling space again. Ah, and put No. 18 to sleep."
".. Understood."
Hisss... A pale gas sprayed into the counseling area when a staff member pressed a button on the desk terminal. The red-haired woman, still wearing the priest's robe she had feared so much like a blanket over her shoulders, stared blankly at the entrance where the Counselor had been dragged away before collapsing weakly.
"And starting tomorrow, No. 18's counseling will be conducted by both the Counselor and myself. Keep that in mind."
After witnessing her personally order the Counselor to be beaten half to death, no one could possibly raise any objections about favoritism. Instead, they found themselves silently praying for his safety.