Who Supplied Oh Chae-rin with Kids for Her Experiments?

The answer to that question—who supplied the kids for Oh Chae-rin's biological experiments?—came from viewing Kang Tae-sik's memories through Greed Photography.

"Ah, sorry…."

The moment I smashed this trash's face with a solid punch, I realized my mistake. So I apologized honestly. Not to this bastard, but to the kids woken up by the noise.

"Eek…."

"Wh-what…?"

The children, roused one by one by the commotion, stirred with terrified faces. I turned to the boy who seemed the most composed among them.

"Hey, you."

"M-me?"

"Yeah. Sorry, but could you come over and look after this kid? As you can see, I'm a bit short on free hands right now."

I nodded toward the child who'd just been tormented by this scum. Pale-faced and vomiting—it was obvious what had happened.

No wonder I smelled that weird stench near the kitchen when I sneaked in. Ah, my blood pressure's rising again.

I added to the boy who rushed over to support the vomiting child.

"One more thing. Could you take all the kids here out as their representative? Wait outside just for a bit. Sorry to ask on such a cold night."

"Wh-why…? Gasp…."

The boy flinched and covered his mouth, probably scared I'd get mad at his question.

In this orphanage, this scum's word was probably law. Questioning it meant merciless abuse. Just look at what he did to that kid who couldn't sleep from pain earlier.

"Y-you idiots! Don't just stand there gawking—do something! Your director's in this state, and not one of you… Gurk?"

I shoved my hand into the yapping bastard's mouth and gripped one of his remaining molars with my middle finger and thumb.

Crack—!

I yanked it out.

"Gaaargh—?!"

"…Could you do me that favor, bro?"

I smiled kindly, and only then did the boy lead the other kids outside. Now I could finally spend some quality time alone with this trash.

"Wh-why are you doing this to me…? You could've just talked, right? Yeah…."

"Why'd you do that to those kids?"

Splat—! A sewer-rot stench poured from his mouth, so I drove my fist into his gut.

"Guhk…!"

The sensation of his organs crushing wrapped around my knuckles as he spewed blood. Perfect—he bent over right on cue.

I grabbed the back of this human scum's head and slammed it—thud!—into the vomit from the food-poisoned kid.

"Urp…!"

He flailed his limbs, trying to rise, so I stomped his head down with my sole. Suddenly, it got too quiet….

"Dead?"

I yanked his hair to lift his face. Bubbles frothed from his mouth—he'd just passed out. Vomit caked his disgusting mug… Ugh.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Sorry for showing you something gross, Mom."

I pulled a recovery potion from the Association out of my hoodie pocket, popped the cap, and poured it over his face.

His mushy face restored itself. The caved-in features popped back out, and the yanked teeth regrew. As the wounds healed fast, he regained consciousness.

"Hurk…!"

"Hitting the face makes you pass out quick, huh. Okay, got it."

"W-wait… P-please hear me out… Let me…."

"Sorry. I'm not a beast tamer, so I can't understand animal talk."

Too annoying to drag it out, so I snapped his right arm first. A grotesque scream erupted from his maw. Earlier I'd broken his left fingers, right?

Cheeks weren't the target this time, but fingers worked ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fine. Snap—! Like breaking twigs, I slowly bent his fingers from thumb to ring finger outward. Very slowly.

"Guhk, guhuhk…!"

"Hurts? Okay, noted."

Splash—! I poured the rest of the recovery potion on his mangled left hand. Not bad Association stuff. The fingers restored… Ah, thumb and index didn't fully heal.

Drool poured as he wailed in agony.

"Kill me! Just kill me!"

"Nah."

"Wh-what…?"

"I took meds I didn't even need just to beat on you. Effect lasts another 10 minutes, though."

What meds? Nothing special. Just a debuff potion that halves all stats for 30 minutes.

Why? At full stats, one punch would've ended him. His face would've burst like a watermelon from that first hit. No fun in that.

I wanted him to suffer like Oh Hyuk-cheol—long and hard. Resigned, he hung his head, sobbing. I whispered in his ear.

"No matter how much it hurts right now, how you writhe in pain, despair, and shed tears…."

"Ughk, uhuuk…."

"Compared to the hellish suffering those kids you abused—and sold to Oh Chae-rin—endured, it's less than dirt under a fingernail."

An orphanage should be a home for kids who lost parents to monsters or whatever. But this… fucking scum….

"Abusing them, beating them, force-feeding garbage unfit for food, and selling them for horrific experiments? All for money?"

Splat—! I mounted him and started pummeling his face.

"What did those kids ever do to deserve that?"

"Guh, guhek…."

Splat—! Splat—!

"Forced to shed bloody tears in that filthy sewer of a place, treated worse than livestock?"

Splat—! Splat—!

Kids who should long for their parents' embrace faced cold operating tables. Scalpels. And after cruel experiments, a mirror showing their chimeric selves.

Splat—!

"I can't even imagine the unimaginable pain and terror they endured."

"Guh, glurk…."

"You were too busy feeding your family with the cash from Oh Chae-rin. Playing householder. Ha…."

Couldn't help but sigh.

"Don't know what to say. Just… your daughter pities me."

I pulled a small wooden box the size of a ring case from my pocket. Mom sponsored it before I came.

Was this even an 'item'?

"They sell the weirdest crap there."

Click. I opened it. Inside writhed a pitch-black larva like inked sludge.

Left hand grabbed the larva; right pried open this scum's mouth. No resistance. I shoved it in—flick.

Gulp. His Adam's apple bobbed.

"Urk…?!"

Purple veins bulged across his body. He clawed his throat like he'd swallowed a razor, rolling on the floor groaning.

"That's Gu Poison. Read any wuxia novels?"

"Guhk, heuk, kah, hack…!"

"Wherever you go, whatever you do, one whistle from me and it'll rampage in your gut. You'll die. Not just die—pain worse than burning alive."

No exaggeration—the item description said exactly that. The system, stating pure facts, called it worse than burning. Need I say more?

"Even without my whistle, it'll go berserk in 10 years. Meaning you're dead for sure then."

"Uh, heuk, guaa…."

Of course, nonstop agony 24/7 even without it. Way worse than food poisoning.

Even cutting open to remove it? Futile. It'll kill him first.

"So, what do you do for the next 10 years? First: By lunchtime tomorrow, expose everything you did. Abusing kids, selling them to Oh Chae-rin—all of it."

The Gu settled; his screams stopped. Good—he could hear me now.

"Second: Once exposed, you'll rot in prison for life. But if you get the chance, apologize to your daughter. And feel shame. You get it?"

No reply. Just tears staring at the floor. Not pitiful at all. His daughter was.

"But… even knowing her dad's scum, will she still see you as dad? I wouldn't. Anyway."

I yanked his hair to force eye contact. Warned him.

"Break either, and you die."

"……."

"I said it clearly. Lunchtime tomorrow. Exactly noon. One second late, you die."

Shivering, drenched in cold sweat, he nodded slowly.

Ah, right.

"And don't say I told you to. Do, and you die."

— "Sold innocent kids for illegal experiments."

Private orphanage director Song admits connection to Oh Chae-rin.

— Starved, beaten… Abuse confessed….

— Horrific confessions continue. A tragedy that must never repeat….

— Gaping safety net. Urgent government action needed….

Hm, he listened well.

Reporters these days throw daggers like pros. Song Young-ju, face hidden under hat and mask, pushed through the crowd flanked by detectives with arms crossed.

The mob hurled curses like "How are you even human?" Oof.

"I'm shivering just watching."

"You orchestrated this, didn't you?"

True that. Sharp uncle.

In the president's office, watching the news amiably with me, I asked the uncle.

"How'd you know?"

"How? You make 'that request,' and the next day this blows up? Obvious."

"You'll play dumb, right?"

"…Let's not."

This guy's flexible when it counts, overflowing even. Yoo Soo-yeon beside the sighing uncle met my eyes and smiled, finger to lips.

Ahh, good people….

"Anyway, about your 'request.' I thought it over."

He wet his throat with hot coffee and continued.

"Not much to think about."

"Meaning?"

"'The Player Association will directly run relief centers for kids orphaned by outbreaks.' What's to deliberate?"

"……."

"We should've done it sooner. My fault for being dull."

Self-reproach soured his voice.

"Can't protect innocent kids, what good are we at protecting citizens?"

"Don't say that. Honestly, without this, I wouldn't have cared either."

"Thanks."

"…Suddenly why?"

"You reminded me why the Association exists."

His eyes gleamed.

"I'll stake my position to make your request happen."

"Budget okay? Don't overdo it for my whim…."

"If we can't fund homes for the homeless, I'll quit on the spot."

President Heo too—why so many cool middle-aged guys? If I aged 30 years into a woman, I'd swoon.

One worry down.

Now the victims had a place to stay. But I couldn't smile.

Couldn't.

"…About the experimented kids. No way to reverse it, right?"

"……."

His silence answered.

"…Damn."

Even splashing cold water on my face, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rage wouldn't subside.

Oh Chae-rin and Oh Hyuk-cheol were dead. Song Young-ju would live hell till death in 10 years.

So? The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠victims? Who compensates those kids' stolen lives?

"Feels unresolved…."

I knew. Whiny bullshit.

But how could it feel like someone else's problem?

To me, at least… it doesn't.

I lost Mom and Dad early. I know that heartbreaking loneliness. No warm words helped. The loss burrowed bone-deep.

Yet when kindness was scarce.

When even "hang in there" was precious.

Those kids endured knives in flesh, limbs severed—against their will.

Kids I saved myself. In the same boat as me. Maybe misplaced responsibility. Didn't want to accept my limits.