Killing the Demon
"Hmm? Is Wol-ah back?"
A burly, rough-looking man squeezed his way into the small house. As the middle-aged man grinned, a row of yellow, crooked teeth was revealed. He reached out a hand, his voice dripping with an air of command.
"It’s time. Hand over the money. I had a run of bad luck tonight and lost every damn cent."
Mok Simwol’s heart sank, turning colder than it had ever been. She stood up and looked at the man she was supposed to call 'Father.' Her eyes were filled with a searing contempt, as if she were looking at a filthy, stench-ridden stray dog.
"I didn't make any money today," she said slowly.
"No money?"
Rage flooded the man’s face. He raised his hand and delivered a stinging slap to Mok Simwol’s cheek, his voice rising to a roar. "Then why the hell did you come home? I rushed back here to get some cash, and all you have to say is that you don't have any? I’ve suffered all these years to raise you, and for what? A few days ago, I told you to go serve the young master of the So family, and you stubbornly refused. If you don't have another way to bring in the coin, then tonight’s the night! You dare say you have no money? If you don't have it, go sell yourself and make some!"
Moonlight filtered through the holes in the wooden ceiling, illuminating Mok Simwol’s beautiful face. A dark red handprint stood out vividly against her porcelain-white skin. A trickle of blood escaped the corner of her mouth.
Mok Simwol felt no pain. She couldn't—she was already used to it. This cycle of violence and verbal abuse had been her daily reality ever since her mother had become bedridden and could no longer protect her.
The man who claimed to be her father continued his drunken tirade. "I need that money tonight! You two pathetic wenches can choose for yourselves. Which one of you is going to go out and sell your body?"
He blocked the doorway of the wooden shack, looking like a rabid beast. His words triggered a flood of memories in Mok Simwol’s mind. When she was very young, her mother had always endured horrific violence from this demonic father just to protect her. Her mother had suffered every imaginable humiliation, entertaining customers to earn the money her father used as gambling chips. Every time she witnessed it, Mok Simwol couldn't understand how such a man could exist in this world.
The resentment she harbored toward men had taken root then. Since then, she had seen nothing but the filthiest, most repulsive sides of the male gender. To her, all men were nothing more than dirty animals driven by instinct. The men who visited their shack were all the same, capable only of venting their lust. They pretended to be decent and polite on the outside—some were even teachers from the academy—but the moment their clothes came off, they transformed into stray dogs, committing foul acts without hesitation.
Over the long years since her childhood, despair and hatred toward men had grown steadily in her heart. Within her mental landscape, a tree of resentment grew, one that would never be toppled. Her mother’s body had eventually reached its limit; she had withered away like a flower snapped from its stem, consumed by exhaustion and disease.
The man called her father had no intention of treating his wife. Instead, he only thought of driving her to earn money until her life flickered out—until her value as a woman was gone, until her beauty faded into ugliness. Mok Simwol and her mother, two pitiful women, had seen their roles shift over time. Once, Mok Simwol had been the hostage the demon used to threaten her mother. Now, her bedridden mother was the hostage the demon used to threaten Mok Simwol.
To treat her mother’s illness and keep her alive, Mok Simwol had done everything in her power, enduring countless hardships. She had found every possible way to make money without losing her chastity like her mother had. Stealing, mugging, fraud—she had done it all, but she had never sold her body. In the 3rd Academy, she was the princess everyone envied, the idol of all. But outside the academy, she was a masked shadow who would do anything except prostitution.
In the past, the worthless delinquent Bukjin had been her easiest target, a perfect mark to bleed dry. During the time she was nominally Bukjin’s girlfriend, she had felt a sense of ease for the first time in her life. Because Bukjin brought her everything she wanted, she didn't have to risk her life or suffer. That was the only period in Mok Simwol’s life when she could sleep at night without nightmares.
However, the demands of the demon lurking in her home only grew worse. The amount of money he wanted increased, and his demands began to cross the final line she had fought to protect. He had already tried to force her into the one thing she dreaded most several times, his eyes filled with nothing but greed and filth.
I have to end this. All of it.
Mok Simwol wiped the blood from her lip with her sleeve. Her wavering heart finally hardened into stone. She looked up, staring directly at the demon standing before her, and spoke clearly.
"I am never giving you another cent."
Her father looked stunned. But then, reeking of alcohol, he let out a savage, mocking sneer. "What? You think you're all grown up now? You're going to rebel against your own father? You know the price of disobedience, don't you? Heh, don't forget. There is poison in your mother's body. And the antidote is in my hand. Unless you want her to die—"
"Do you really think there is only one kind of poison in Mother's body?"
Mok Simwol’s face was filled with a profound sadness. She slowly turned and sat by the bedside. Tears fell from her eyes as she looked at her mother’s gaunt face.
"Mother, I'm sorry."
Her mother seemed to understand. A light of joy flickered across her face.
"My Wol-ah... this mother doesn't blame you." Her mother looked at Mok Simwol’s young, beautiful face, painfully raising a hand to wipe away her tears. She smiled weakly. "Finally, I can be free from this pain. I'm sorry... I should have protected you better. You're still so young, yet you've seen so much of the world's ugliness and filth. I'm sorry for making you live in this mire... for making you lose your confidence..."
Mok Simwol’s tears stopped. She slowly caressed her mother’s face, then lowered her hand to pat her chest, as if lulling a child to sleep.
"Mother, it won't hurt. Just sleep peacefully now. Once you're asleep, the pain will stop, and the worries will vanish. You must sleep well, Mother. When I have finished my revenge against this world, I will come find you."
The moment she finished speaking—
Crack!
A violent burst of Mystic Energy exploded from Mok Simwol’s palm, severing her mother’s heart vessels. The expression of Mok Simwol’s mother, who had spent so long writhing in the agony of disease on that ragged bed, finally softened into one of peace. As if falling into a sweet slumber, she gently closed her eyes and departed on her long journey.
Shock washed over the man standing by the door. "You..."
He pointed at Mok Simwol, about to hurl an insult. But in the next instant, a flash blinded him, and a cold chill pierced his chest. When he looked down, a sword had skewered his heart. The one holding the sword was Mok Simwol.
"Y-you... how dare you... kill me? I... I am... your father..."
The man’s eyes bulged in disbelief. In his youth, he had been a warrior. But years of alcohol and gambling had utterly ruined his body, and he had lived like a parasite ever since. The courage and spirit he once possessed were nowhere to be found. He didn't even have the strength to resist his daughter's attack.
Mok Simwol pulled the sword out slowly, her expression eerily calm. Blood sprayed out, drenching her face. To her, the blood felt freezing cold.
Her expression grew colder by the second. "I’ve wanted to get rid of a demon like you for a long time. Now, go back to the hell you crawled out of."
Mok Simwol kicked the man’s corpse, sending it flying out the door.
Thud!
The sound of the body hitting the ground woke the old dog in the garden. Mok Simwol walked outside, sword in hand, and headed toward the woodpile. She looked at the old dog, which was wagging its tail and barking at her, and gave it a gentle smile. It was a dog she had raised for six years.
Even a dog like this knows how to care for its person... You were worse than a beast.
The old dog was a male, and Mok Simwol felt a twinge of regret at that fact. She swung her sword and ended the dog’s life. She felt a sense of liberation, as if a heavy burden she had carried for a long time had finally been lifted.
Mok Simwol threw the man’s body into the central shack and the dog’s body into the shack on the right. Then, she set fire to all three structures simultaneously. Flames roared upward, devouring everything. She stood silently, watching the inferno. The life she had lived until now vanished into the rising flames.
The demon, her mother, and the loyal dog. Love, resentment, and care. Everything had become unnecessary. A night wind blew, fanning the flames until they burned even more fiercely. Because her home was so isolated, the fire didn't affect the surrounding area, and no one came to investigate. Mok Simwol continued to toss wood into the blaze. Everything in the house and garden was reduced to ash. The bodies and all her belongings were completely incinerated.
Mok Simwol donned the travel pack she had prepared long ago. She had already finalized her plans. She intended to leave Unmong City, take on a new identity, and start a completely new life in a new place. The Police Bureau wouldn't even bother investigating the deaths of two people in the slums. Mok Simwol felt no anxiety about what had transpired tonight.
But then, something she hadn't expected happened.