The Price of Mercy
After running the calculations at breakneck speed, it arrived at a conclusion: the mysterious woman who had appeared out of nowhere was the human girlfriend of Hyun-ok — and a fellow parasite, at minimum of the Look rank.
A Look would certainly have the power to track down where it was hiding. But entertaining such thoughts now was pointless.
The only thing that mattered, here and now, was begging for its life.
[I-I'm sorry! I'll never, never do it again…!]
"I asked you whether you knew Hyun-ok. I made sure your hearing was left intact, didn't I?"
The voice still carried no emotion, but there was no mistaking the fury threaded through it.
[Y-yes! I know him! I know him! I met him yesterday!]
It answered with desperate speed, terrified of setting off the woman's temper.
"You knew full well he was one of our own — and you still laid hands on him. Am I wrong?"
In the end it hadn't managed to go through with it, but there had been a seduction along the way, and had he succumbed to it, it would have taken things all the way. That much was undeniable.
[I'm sorry, I really— kiiiiiieeek———!?]
An indescribable agony flooded its entire body and it shrieked, but even that scream came out as nothing but a strangled hiss, as if its mouth had been sewn shut to keep things quiet.
Parasites could completely control the human bodies they absorbed — which meant, naturally, that they could shut off pain entirely.
But the woman had ripped away its control over its own body, and far from blocking the sensation, she had cranked it hundreds of times beyond anything it had ever experienced in life.
The agony was intense enough to make it want to die. It tried to faint, to simply black out — but consciousness was dragged back to waking again and again, against its will, until even the mercy of oblivion was denied it.
[Kiii… kieek!? Kiiiiiii———!!]
The elegant woman who had been gazing gracefully out the window while feeding on a human was now nothing more than a primitive creature thrashing about, dying in agony.
I'm going to… die…! Like this, I'm actually going to die! No, no, no — I don't want to die!
The fellow parasite would torment it in this hellish pain as payment for touching what was hers — and then she would kill it.
As its consciousness flickered on and off through the agony, it felt an overwhelming dread it had never once known in life, staring straight down the barrel of an all-too-visible ending.
To survive — for survival alone — it clawed up everything it had left and searched desperately for a path to living, and at the end of that search, something like a faint thread of hope shimmered before its eyes.
There was no reason not to seize the only thing it had.
[H-Hyun-ok…]
That it managed a single word at all, mid-torment and robbed of its own body, could only be called a miracle.
And its gambit — had it worked?
The pain vanished from its body as if it had all been a lie.
At the sound of his name, the fellow parasite halted the torment and, for the first time, cast her gaze its way — as if to say, go on, then. Talk.
The pain was gone, but it had carved deep, all the way to the marrow, a terror of the being before it.
Under that gaze its whole body trembled. It wanted nothing more than to run — it had spoken recklessly on the flimsiest of grounds, and now the bill was coming due.
And yet it couldn't flee. There had never been any way out to begin with, and this was its last road to survival. It had no choice but to keep its mouth moving, however badly it wanted to shut it.
[H-Hyu… Hyun-ok wouldn't… w-wouldn't want… th-this…]
The grounds for this desperate throw of the dice were vanishingly thin.
It had spoken with the human Hyun-ok for less than an hour, and knew next to nothing about him.
But it hadn't lived its few decades as a human for nothing, either. Even in that brief conversation, it had caught a vague sense of the kind of man he was.
And it was on that vague sense — nothing more — that it had staked its words.
The fellow parasite stared at it in silence for a long moment, then finally spoke.
"Insolent little thing. And what, exactly, do you know about him?"
The quietly simmering anger in her tone made it think, welp, I'm dead — but there was still no other card to play, so it had to push forward.
[Hiiiiek——!! I-I don't know him! Not — not as well as you, Teacher — no, great — g-great kin of mine…! B-but… he… he wouldn't want… th-this human… k-killed…]
Its only grounds were a gut feeling, and its confidence crumbled as it went, until the last words came out faint as an ant's footsteps.
The fellow parasite regarded it for another long moment, as if weighing something, and then said:
"You're right. He doesn't want me killing humans. We've even made a promise to that effect. But you are not human. So it doesn't matter."
There. That's the spot.
This was where it had to speak well.
Mustering the greatest courage of its life, it pushed its voice a little firmer this time.
[Y-you're not wrong. B-but… if you think I'm not human, then what… what do you suppose he thinks… y-you are…? H-Hyun-ok, I mean. What does he think of you…?]
The question carried several meanings at once.
By any biological or psychological definition that humans used, it fell within the boundaries of humanity. If something like itself could be called not-human, then the parasite before it could not be called human either.
It was paradoxical, shot through with contradictions — and yet at the same time, not something that could be dismissed with a flat no.
By pure fortune, this crooked argument offered no easy answer — and it applied to the being in front of it too, which planted the first hesitation about killing it.
"I understand what you're trying to say. It's not wrong. It isn't right, either — but if I denied that you were human, I would be denying myself. And then facing him as the human called Sung-ha would become rather difficult, wouldn't it."
Did… did it work…?
"But I don't like simply letting you go, either. So… we'll do it this way."
In an instant, the sensation and feeling that should have flooded its body returned to their rightful places. As if time itself were running backward, the wound punched through its face healed in the blink of an eye — and apart from being naked, it was restored entirely to its original state.
My God… It had seen Looks heal their own wounds in an instant. But never a parasite who could reach into someone else's body and mend it this fast.
Don't tell me… don't tell me.
The legend — the story that she devoured the semen of human men.
The overwhelming strength that had subdued even a Knight like itself so effortlessly.
The one who, even after all this time, had never lost her form —分裂. The one who split.
Every last one of them pointed at a single answer.
"M-My Queen! I greet you!"
Whump!
The moment it got its body back, it dropped straight to its knees and slammed its forehead into the floor.
When no answer came, it lifted its head in anxious hesitation — and the great Queen spoke.
"I am not any 'Queen.'"
"B-but…"
"I said I'm not."
"Y-yes… th-then what should I call you, if not Queen — if not my kin—"
"Call me Sung-ha."
"S-Sung-ha-nim—"
"Drop the honorific."
"Sung-ha…-sshi?"
"…Just talk to me like I'm someone your own age. And none of that formal speech, either."
I'm— hng.
Was this how it felt when a company CEO suddenly ordered the lowest-ranked employee to speak to him casually?
"I've planted a piece of my flesh inside your body. As long as that flesh remains within you, I know where you are, I know what you're doing — and I can kill you whenever I please."
Just as the Queen said, it could feel it — something faint, like a foreign object lodged deep inside.
It wouldn't dare even try, but it was certain: even if it manipulated its own body to cut the thing out, it would be impossible.
"Furthermore — if you speak to anyone about me, or about Hyun-ok, that flesh I planted in you will kill you in a single heartbeat."
"U-understood, ma'am— I mean — got it, Sung-ha. I'll keep it in mind."
Ugh, this is so goddamn uncomfortable.
Having a time bomb with all sorts of conditions attached buried inside its body was deeply unsettling — but it beat dying by several thousandfold.
The moment it learned she was a being out of legend, it even forgot the terror of moments ago, emboldened enough to risk its neck on questions it had always wanted to ask.
"Um… Que— I mean, Sung-ha…"
It spoke with the utmost caution, and the Queen answered with a silent, watching gaze.
"Why… why do you hide yourself…? I mean — ahem! You know it too, don't you…? Our numbers keep dwindling… and by humans' hands, no less. If you were with us… our kind could — we could rule over the humans of this Earth and live… f-free…? N-naturally! All the others are hoping for that too!"
Not just itself — every parasite alive on this Earth harbored the same question: if the Queen existed, why did she never reveal herself? Why didn't she bring the humans to their knees beneath them all?
Truthfully, it had its doubts whether even the Queen alone could handle every human on the planet — that much seemed like a stretch.
But if she rallied the parasites to her side? Then it was worth a shot — no, it was entirely within reach.
"I'm not interested."
"…I'm sorry?"
"I said I'm not interested."
It asked again at the flat, immediate dismissal — but the same answer came back.
It couldn't accept it. But then, it wasn't in any position to press the matter, either.
"You don't look convinced. Then let me ask you one thing. Have you ever sacrificed yourself for a parasite weaker than you?"
"W-well, that's…"
…No. Never.
And with that, it began — vaguely, but unmistakably — to understand what the Queen was getting at.
"Just as humans who are the same species don't necessarily help one another, I have no intention of helping our kind simply because we are the same kind."
"But if things go on like this, our species will go extinct…"
"Not my job. If that happens, then that's simply the way of nature. Accept it."
The Queen spoke as indifferently as if discussing a stranger's affairs — and yet in that whole chain of indifferent words, it couldn't find a single thread to argue with.
The Queen had no reason to sacrifice herself for her kind, and no obligation to. At the same time, she received no compensation commensurate with such a role — and showed no desire to receive any.
The truth was that the whole Queen rank, the whole elevation of her into legend, had been born of their own selfish wish: the hope that someday, someone would appear who could raise them to the top of this Earth's ecosystem.
"Besides… it would feel like a waste to just leave you as you are. I don't harbor the arrogant delusion that I can handle every possible situation."
It couldn't grasp the exact meaning — but it understood this much: it was something about her boyfriend.
The Queen sat quietly in her seat as ever, deep in thought, and then — like someone struck by a clever idea — for the first time, a faint smile crossed her face.
"I've got it. You… you're going to be Hyun-ok's friend."
"…I'm sorry?"
Hic.
The shock was so great that one of the human organs it always kept under strict control twitched on its own, and a hiccup burst out of it.