Gray Memories
My head hurt. Several hours must have passed, yet that strange ringing sound still echoed inside my skull. It felt exactly like the brain freeze you get from eating ice cream too fast. I vaguely remembered this being called an ice pick headache—something a gym teacher had asked the protagonist about in a game once.
For now, I was locked away in an underground prison. I'd killed someone in front of a crowd, after all. Both the crown prince and Ricardo had reassured me not to worry. Airina Camellia wasn't even allowed inside, and Glacia had to undergo a separate investigation since she was a key witness.
From what I'd heard, the families and clans of the girls Hoon had been keeping were throwing absolute fits. Whether it was that Glace guy, the butter-fried bastard, or that horned bitch—they were all from fairly well-off clans. They were demanding I be charged with murder and even pushing for the death penalty, claiming I'd brutally slaughtered an innocent person.
But my backing was far stronger, so I held an overwhelming advantage. The crown prince, the Winterheart family, the Karben family... and apparently even some mages who followed Werner had joined in. Honestly, the fact that there was any contest at all felt like a miracle.
"Haa, fuck..."
I was getting tired of playing with the tiny pebble that had been rolling around the prison floor. It wasn't my first time killing someone, and it certainly wasn't the first time I'd turned someone into a pile of meat. The only things bothering me were a slightly dry throat and crushing boredom.
After all, when Hoon had stepped into the arena, he'd surely been prepared to die to some degree. So I hadn't done anything wrong.
The inside of the cell had no color whatsoever. Iron bars, gray walls and floor, and the black darkness visible beyond the bars. The sight made me feel like I'd gone colorblind, stirring up old memories. It reminded me of the time I'd first encountered color while trapped in a drab gray space.
I was an orphan.
I'd hold up a plastic basket in the subway station, bow my head, and beg for even a single coin. If someone gave me a thousand or ten thousand won, I'd treat them like my savior. Maybe because I was so young, people pitied me and sometimes gave me food or clothes.
But the rules down there were cruel. Drunken homeless men would target my basket, and I'd have to fight them off every time—kicking them in the balls, gouging their eyes, or smashing their heads with rocks or bricks.
That day, I'd set a record with 33,200 won in sales and was excited about buying the most expensive lunchbox at the nearby convenience store. But a homeless guy who'd missed out on business that day threatened me with a soju bottle.
I quietly handed over the basket, and while he was counting the money, I grabbed the soju bottle he'd set down and smashed it against the back of his head. Then I stabbed his throat with the broken bottle.
My dust-covered clothes were soon soaked in blood. On my way to the convenience store, I decided I'd grab some new clothes from a clothing donation box and immediately set off.
"Hey kid, where'd you learn to do something like that?"
For a second, I thought I was fucked. This had happened a few times before, and each time I'd been dragged off to an orphanage. Of course, I hated those chicken coops and always ran away.
"None of your business, mister."
"Kid, are you really hungry?"
"Can't you tell just by looking at me?"
"Then follow me. At least you won't have to worry about being hungry anymore."
I knew resisting would be pointless, so I decided to go with him. He'd probably just send me to the nearest police station or some orphanage. Either way, I could always run away again.
But the car passed the police station, and he started asking me questions.
"How old are you, kid?"
"I don't know."
"What's your name?"
"I don't know."
"Do you have any family or relatives?"
"If I did, would I be doing this right now?"
"Hahaha... Perfect."
The man laughed heartily and handed me a bottle of water.
"Aren't you thirsty? Drink up."
The atmosphere made it feel like something terrible would happen if I didn't drink it, so I took the water and drank. The liquid soothed my parched throat, and then I passed out.
When I opened my eyes, there were roughly several hundred kids around my age. Still dazed, I looked around while sitting on a hard metal chair. This place was gray too—just like now. The walls, the floor, even the people around me were all shades of gray.
The adults who'd dragged us into this gray world immediately started beating us. Some kids were bleeding from their heads, others had broken teeth or bruises. My own nose was bleeding and my lip was split.
The adults told us that with that beating, we had died and been reborn. And to us newborns, they would give new names.
They called them names, but all they did was pin numbered tags on us. My number was 204.
Designation: 204
"Alright, from now on I'll call out two numbers at a time. Those called together will become partners and live together! Eat together, sleep together, train together, and don't forget that all future missions will be carried out together!"
Then they put silver bracelets on us. Bracelets engraved with our numbers.
They began calling out the numbers, and finally it was my turn.
"Number 200 and Number 204!"
When I stepped forward, a black-haired girl came out smiling brightly and walked beside me. I couldn't understand what there was to be so happy about in a shithole like this.
In a space full of gray, her smile was the only thing shining, and it irritated me.
The adults led us to a room labeled [200204].
"This will be your room from now on. If you cause any trouble, you'll receive appropriate punishment, so keep that in mind."
I just nodded roughly, but the girl raised her hand high and answered cheerfully.
"Yesss~!"
What the hell was so good about this dump that she was acting like that...
The adult who brought us locked us in the room—which had nothing but two old beds for furniture—and left.
The girl turned to me with the same bright smile as before and held out her hand.
"Hello, you're 204, right? Nice to meet you! I'm 200! We're best friends starting today, okay?"
For a moment I had no idea what nonsense this girl was spouting, so I answered curtly.
"What's a best friend? Speak so I can understand."
"Well, um... the closest friend ever! Soulmate! Black bean noodles and dumplings! SpongeBob and Patrick! Red and Green! Luffy and Zoro!"
"I get the friend part, but what the hell are the rest? Red? Green? SpongeBob? Patrick?"
"You don't know any of that?"
"I don't know that crap. And I don't want to be friends with you at all."
I was pretty prickly back then, so I was cold to her too. But even during mealtime while dipping hard bread in lukewarm soup, during free time, and even after lights out during bedtime, that girl kept chattering away nonstop.
"Fuck, you're so loud I'm gonna die."
"Oh my, are you really going to use such bad words on a cute girl like me?"
"Seriously, what the actual fuck. You've been yapping nonstop since earlier, it's driving me insane, damn it."
"Wow, you're really good at swearing!"
Number 200 said that and started clapping her hands.
Normally if someone cursed at you, you'd curse back or come at them with your fists.
"Ugh, forget it, you idiot..."
"My name isn't idiot, though?"
"Then what is it?"
"Lee Baek."
"Idiot, that's our number."
What was so great about being called by a number like we were objects?
"It's our new name. That's why I think it's lucky it starts with 'Lee.' Seven would sound weird, right?"
"What are you even saying..."
"So let's think of the numbers like our names... That's it! I had an old name before, but I like the new one too!"
"Yeah, you go ahead and like it all by yourself."
"Why are you like this, Baek-sa?"
"What?"
I'd never had a real name before, so suddenly being called by some weird name caught me off guard.
"Lee is our surname, my name is Baek, and you're Baek-sa. How about it? Do you like it?"
Her thinking was so simple. 200 and 204—the 'Lee' was the surname, and Baek and Baek-sa were the given names.
"Yeah, what a fucking stupid idea."
"Hmm, if you don't like it, should I give you a name myself? Um... Chun-sik? Dae-sik? Doo-sik? Man-sik?"
"I hate all of them. Really hate them. And why do they all end with 'sik'?"
"...Well, because it's cute?"
"Just let me sleep already, please."
"No. I'll keep talking next to you until I give you a name."
I'd slept like crazy on the way to this facility, but that day had been eventful in many ways, and Lee Baek had stressed me out in all sorts of ways, so I was incredibly tired.
"Just call me Baek-sa, damn it."