Chapter 690: Destiny for Two (4)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 690: Destiny for Two (4)
Hedo spent one year at the main camp in Drakka and another in the Tower of Stories.
During his two years of confinement, Kelliark and the other high-ranking Zipple leaders frequently attempted to sway him. Though technically a prisoner, Hedo was treated almost like a guest of honor.
This was a direct result of Kelliark's orders.
He hoped to make Hedo one of Zipple’s own without resorting to mental manipulation, if at all possible. He believed that no matter how advanced Zipple’s brainwashing techniques became, the moment they were used on Hedo, his value would diminish.
Of course, Hedo never responded to Kelliark’s overtures.
At one point, Kelliark went so far as to remove Hedo’s restraints, giving him the chance to simply walk out. He even promised that as long as Hedo did not join Runcandel, there would be no retaliation. Yet, Hedo did not leave.
“I offer you freedom, and yet you reject even that?”
Kelliark could not understand what had driven Hedo to such depths of despair. Nor did he realize that to Hedo, the world outside was simply a hell he could neither comprehend nor belong to.
On the contrary, Hedo had perfectly adapted to the meaningless days behind bars. Up until that point in his life, no state of existence had been better.
“...A pity. Since you have rejected even this, you will now be moved to the experimental wards. However, if you ever change your mind, even there, simply ask the person in charge. Tell them you wish to speak with me.”
Thus, Hedo was transferred to the 12th Experimental Ward, located near the Tower of White Night in the Sota Desert.
The chief administrator of the 12th Experimental Ward at the time was a man named Ibeon Sil. He was notorious among the test subjects for his cruelty, often using experiments as a pretext for torture.
“Listen here. It seems the God of the Human World favored you while you were in Drakka and the Tower of Stories, but here, I am God. Unless that man himself descends upon this place, that is. Hmm... I’m actually a bit conflicted on how to handle you. Should I break you as I usually do, or should I play it safe for the Patriarch’s sake?”
Those were the first words Ibeon spat upon seeing Hedo. Hedo didn't even bother listening.
“Let’s go with the latter. You’re a specimen the God of the Human World has his eye on, after all; it wouldn’t do to be too reckless. Let’s start with something nice and old-fashioned: a beating.”
From that day on, Ibeon beat Hedo daily.
Under normal circumstances, it would be impossible for an ordinary mage who wasn't a martial artist to injure a superhuman with a club.
However, the Hedo of that time no longer possessed the body he had during his days in the Black Sea. Weakened by prolonged self-starvation, he was a withered giant. With his strength suppressed by restraints, he was no more durable than an ordinary, well-trained warrior.
Hedo never once resisted.
He didn't even scream. It wasn't that he felt no pain; he simply saw no need to show any sign of suffering.
“Number 118! So you’re used to pain, are you? Let’s see if that mouth of yours stays shut today as well.”
Ibeon was a true sadist. He viewed Hedo’s lack of reaction as defiance, and as his vexation grew, he began to forget that Hedo was a special specimen sent by Kelliark.
In other words, he began to cross the line he had intended to keep. Ibeon’s intensified torture and forced fasting quickly turned Hedo into a cripple.
The steel body that, until recently, had ruthlessly torn apart the monsters of the Black Sea, defeated challengers who came for Cyron, and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with his Black Knights, was completely ruined.
His limbs became immobile, like withered, twisted wood, and the internal organs responsible for generating aura suffered permanent damage, ceasing to function.
Eventually, the only way to tell Hedo was still alive was by the incoherent babbling that escaped past his stiffened tongue, regardless of his will.
Ironically, once things reached that point, Ibeon began to show signs of terror.
“This is insane... What have I done! Are you saying he truly cannot be fixed?”
“I am sorry, Lord Ibeon. Number 118 cannot be restored now without a Sacred Object of Numerus. Furthermore, at this rate, he will die before long. We must report this to the higher-ups...”
“Report? A report? You bastard, who are you trying to screw over? The one dying isn't Number 118, it’s you! How dare you... As of this moment, you are Subject Number 145.”
“Lord Ibeon? No, wait!”
Ibeon took measures to ensure Hedo’s condition was not reported to his superiors. He turned those who knew of the torture into test subjects themselves and exerted every effort to keep Hedo from dying.
However, since he had reduced a man who already had no will to live to such a state, there was no way his condition would improve.
It was only a matter of time before an audit from above revealed the situation. Ibeon spent his days in a state of constant anxiety, lost in thought.
‘When I first received Number 118, there was only one special instruction. If he requested to see the Patriarch, I was to grant it. Since the bastard never did, doesn't that mean it’s fine if he dies? Even if I report it as a death during experimentation, there shouldn't be a problem... Dammit, there’s no way. The Patriarch will punish me personally.’
Preventing Hedo’s death was impossible.
In the end, after much deliberation, Ibeon chose a method to shift the blame onto someone else in the experimental ward. Specifically, onto the only test subject he dared not treat recklessly.
‘Number 109... I’ll have to make it look like Sandra Zipple killed him.’
Number 109—the subject number assigned to Sandra.
At that time, no one in the 12th Experimental Ward called Sandra by her number. Though she was a test subject, she was a pure-blooded Zipple, and all the researchers in the ward addressed her as "Lady" and served her like a superior.
Of course, behind that consideration lay disgust and mockery. It was only because she was a pure-blooded Zipple that they couldn't mistreat her; she was like an annoying laboratory pet.
She constantly wandered the ward without much restriction and caused trouble, yet she couldn't be abused like the other subjects.
That was Subject 109, Sandra Zipple, at the time.
“Ibeon! I heard you were looking for me. Did a new snack come in?”
“Oh, my Lady. You’ve come?”
“I asked if there’s a snack!”
“Haha, of course. A new snack has arrived. Have you heard of sugar?”
“Sugar?”
“It’s a powder that tastes very sweet when eaten. Here... Ah, if you just scoop it up like that... it’s quite a vulgar way to eat.”
“It’s sweet! What’s 'vulgar'?”
“Well, I suppose you don't need to know. And I’ve prepared a new toy for you as well.”
“A toy too? Is it my birthday today?”
“Every day is your birthday, my Lady. However, there is one thing you must be careful of.”
“What is it?”
“You mustn't kill him like the toy I gave you last time. That means you shouldn't twist his neck or stab him with something just because he won't listen.”
Since Sandra had already undergone partial bio-golemization, she possessed physical strength unbelievable for a five-year-old.
She had killed a few test subjects with that strength, though it was less her own will and more the result of accidents during the "games" instigated by Ibeon and the other researchers. They would tell her things like, ‘Try stabbing him once, my Lady. Yes, that’s what you do when he isn't obedient.’ Sandra used to follow such words without any hesitation.
While her innate personality was peculiar, the 12th Experimental Ward was the entire world to her. From the moment her self-awareness began to form, she had seen, heard, and learned only within that ward.
Ibeon wanted to exploit Sandra’s contrary nature. He thought the mischievousness typical of children—doing exactly what they're told not to do—would be helpful.
“Keep this in mind, my Lady. You must absolutely, absolutely not hit or kill him. Just adore him and love him.”
“Love him? What’s that? Speak so I can understand, don't talk like an idiot!”
“...Hmm. It’s like stroking his hair, or talking to him... or being patient even if you’re annoyed. Something like that. Now, now, the toy is waiting. Let’s go.”
That was the first meeting between Hedo and Sandra.
“Hello, Number 118?”
Naturally, Hedo did not respond, and Sandra ended up beating him from the very first day.
Because of this, Ibeon felt his choice had been excellent, but the problem was that Hedo did not die despite her frequent assaults.
If anything, Hedo even began to regain a tiny bit of his vitality.
Even so, he couldn't move his body and mostly just babbled, only occasionally spitting out a complete word or phrase. Still, the prediction that he could never recover without a Sacred Object of Numerus had been proven wrong.
“Hey, are you dead or alive? If you’re dead, just die, and if you’re alive, answer me. I’m the only one trying to play with you every day.”
“Get... out.”
“Ugh, so annoying! I’ll rip your mouth and twist your neck... no, I’ll endure. Because I have to love you! But take two hits. No, three! Oops, did he die? He’s still breathing. See you tomorrow!”
Those bizarre days continued. And as time stretched on, Ibeon grew increasingly anxious.
She beats him every day as if she’s about to kill him, but she never does. It almost feels like Number 109 is mocking me. And Number 118 is far more persistent than I thought…
When that thought struck him, Ibeon decided to lock Sandra and Hedo together in Number 118’s isolation cell. His plan was to only open the door after Sandra, unable to handle the stress of being confined, had finally killed Hedo.
‘Now Number 109 will truly finish off Number 118. If that happens, even the higher-ups won't be able to investigate properly.’
* * *
“...I have never heard a story more foul than this in my life, Tower Keeper.”
Jin wanted to ask how Hedo could have remained loyal to Zipple until recently after enduring such things.
But then he remembered that the object of Hedo's loyalty was not Zipple, but Sandra Zipple, and he held his tongue.
“Everyone has their own years of nightmare. Though the Lady still doesn't know those days were a nightmare. Perhaps... if time had continued to flow like that, the Lady might have eventually killed me, just as Ibeon intended.”
Since Hedo was standing here now, Ibeon’s plan had obviously failed.
A few days after he and Sandra were isolated together, the 12th Experimental Ward was raided by Runcandel.
“The one who raided the 12th Experimental Ward back then was the Black Panther—your mother.”
“Rosa?”
On the day she attacked, the 12th Experimental Ward was completely ruined.
All data was destroyed, and the researchers and mages remaining in the ward couldn't even hope to hold out against her until reinforcements arrived.
As the entire ward vibrated violently, as if it would collapse at any moment, Sandra hugged the fallen Hedo and screamed.
“She told me not to worry, because she would protect me.”
I will protect you.
That was the first time Hedo had heard those words in his life. In a past that had cycled through an orphanage, the Black Sea, underground prisons, and experimental wards, he had never once heard such a natural sentiment. His life had been anything but natural.
He didn't know from what or how she intended to protect him, but Hedo was suddenly overcome with the desire to live.
He decided that he would live the rest of his life for this strange girl.
That day, Hedo left behind the life of a beast and took his first step onto the path of humanity.