Chapter 32
Chapter 32
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Hunch (3)
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One autumn night,
Around 3:28 a.m.
A girl approached the woman sprawled out clutching the toilet.
In the damp basement room,
in the dampest and dirtiest spot.
The woman stared blankly into the toilet water, barely breathing.
"..."
Then, realizing the girl was watching her, she barely moved her parched lips to utter a few words.
"Shall we die together?"
It was something she often brought up. Especially on those nights when she stumbled home in a hazy stupor, she always said it once.
"Shall we die together with Mommy?"
The girl would nod. The little girl, who didn't even fully understand what dying meant, nodded eagerly and sat down beside her mom.
She knew that if she said no, she'd get beaten until sunrise.
Even so,
after saying let's die together,
if she sat side by side with the woman and dozed off,
the girl could still feel the morning sun the next day, alive as ever.
Light filtered in through the tiny window connected to the surface world.
The woman would say let's die together with the girl,
yet she never actually died, dragging herself home after living through yet another full day.
She was definitely not a good mom.
Her body was covered in bruises, with deep scratches scattered here and there.
Sometimes she'd beat her, claiming it was the girl's fault she was born,
and sometimes she'd embrace men not just at work but right there in the basement room,
"Eh- Uh-"
but in those final moments before death, she always sought out her daughter.
"Ahh-"
Blood-flecked foam bubbled from her mouth,
convulsions wracked her as her breathing stopped,
but she died with her daughter in her arms.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Back to July 8th,
10:17 a.m.
"My mom, once she started beating me, she'd keep going until blood came out. So I thought she hated me. She never bought me anything tasty or killed bugs for me."
Creep whispered right into Crow's ear. It was a story he had no desire to hear, yet Crow couldn't bring himself to cover his ears.
"But one day, this new boyfriend of hers starts throwing a fit. I don't remember the details, but he probably wanted money, right? Fights like that are always about cash anyway."
Creep's hand stroked down Crow's back, gentle and soft like a mother soothing a frightened child.
"Then the bastard smashes a liquor bottle right over her head. It didn't shatter like in the movies. But two times? No, three? After that many, Mom collapses twitching."
"He grabs all the money he can and bolts, leaving just me and Mom. But do you know what she said to me? She's gurgling, can't even speak properly, crawls over, hugs me tight, and says it."
"'Daughter, I love you.' Isn't that touching? So after that, I experimented on about ten more whores like her, and it was always the same. Well, a few called for their own moms instead of their daughters."
For some reason, the scene played out vividly in Crow's mind.
"...Pfft! Idiot! Just kidding. You think I'd go around killing people over something like that?"
Creep mocked him, insisting it was a joke,
but even so, Crow found himself unable to discern truth from lie.
"I just wanted to make them appreciate their lives since they never did. Right before death, everyone realizes how happy their life really was. But if they cling on stubbornly until they turn into doddering old fools, they never get that touching moment of self-reflection."
There was no need to hear her backstory. It wasn't some tragic tale worthy of pity. She was a villain either way, and the fact that she'd killed people didn't change.
Besides, there was no way to know if any of it was even true. She always twisted the truth when she spoke, so there was no point letting it get to him.
And yet,
"Still, after raising a kid myself, I kinda wanted to try it. But wouldn't it be better if the dad was a good guy like you? That way, I wouldn't end up like my mom with my head smashed in."
Those last words from Creep brimmed with sincerity.
That's what threw Crow into confusion.
He kept mulling over what kind of woman this was—the one embracing him now,
why she'd fought him all this time,
and with what mindset she wanted his child.
"This one's real, okay? My mom was always going on about her ex-husband. Said he made good money and was handsome or something. But she said he ran off because of me. Hmm. Could be. Pick the wrong guy, and that's how it ends."
Creep chuckled again, giggling gleefully.
She seemed to take real pleasure in Crow's bewildered eyes.
"Ahaha! That one was actually true. Can't tell if it's real or a lie anymore, huh? Honey, it doesn't matter what's real."
But a few things were certain.
For one, Creep's voice as she told that story sounded sadder than usual.
"What's really important is how you feel about it. Humans can find satisfaction even in the harshest, toughest lives. But they get so caught up struggling to survive that they become miserable. When something bigger blocks your path than the problems right in front of you... like, say, you're about to die... then even the shittiest life starts looking a little rosier. You get what I mean?"
Judging by the way her hand gently caressed her belly,
her desire for the child was genuine.
"Even if I dropped dead tomorrow, I'd still want to have this baby."
Was this the truth,
or another lie?
"Nothing feels as happy as that. Really. That's all it is. People change for their kids. Isn't that beautiful? As beautiful as death itself. Pregnancy, I mean."
It was the truth.
Crow could feel it.
But precisely because it was true,
it filled Crow with an unbearable dizziness.
"..."
At the same time, Creep sensed something too.
Her instincts were sharp. It was partly thanks to that keen sense that she'd killed dozens without getting caught until now.
The current time was 10:28 a.m.
While Creep had been lost in sentiment, chatting with Crow,
something ominous began to stir inside Wing C.
"Honey, let's stop there. I'll tell you more tonight."
Creep immediately pulled out the shard of blade she'd hidden inside her bedsheet. A sharp piece about the length of a thumb joint. Not metal—probably a tile fragment honed to an edge.
What did she plan to do with it? But she wrapped it in tissue and slipped it into a tiny ziplock bag.
"Guhk. Mmph."
Crow realized what she was doing and recoiled in horror, but Creep ignored him, popping the bag straight into her mouth and swallowing. As carefully as possible to avoid injury.
Just in case it might harm the baby in her distant future. With utmost caution.
10:30 a.m.
"Everyone, get down!"
Right after she swallowed, guards stormed into Wing C.
This time, they came in with guns trained. The inmates, following orders, had to rush out of their rooms and hit the floor to show they had no intention of resisting.
Creep dragged Crow along and dropped right in front of their door. In a situation like this, any funny business would mean bullet holes in your body. Even if inmates were treated well, an unarmed woman couldn't do much against armed forces.
"Palms out!"
"You! Down!"
Shouts rang out alongside the sounds of kicks, bodies hitting the floor, and even things crashing down in heaps.
"Starting now, those we touch on the back will stand one by one and exit Wing C. Anyone else who moves unnecessarily will be shot on sight."
Crow swallowed hard at the sound of Orca's voice, snapping back to his senses.
He had no idea what was happening,
but at least he couldn't afford to catch Orca's eye and end up in solitary again.
"Move slowly."
The prone inmates rose one by one and followed the guards out.
Scardi and her crew,
Creep's gang,
even some nameless idiot villain,
all filed out of Wing C cautiously at the guards' orders.
"Up."
Now it was Crow and Creep's turn.
Crow stood first and walked out,
Creep following behind.
Wing C emptied completely, not a single inmate left,
and two guards along with Orca began combing through every inch.
Of course, it was Orca who searched Creep's room.
Her sharp eyes and hands tore through the bedsheets first, then every personal item.
But nothing turned up. No physical traces remained. It looked like she'd sensed their arrival and hidden her weapon in an instant.
That didn't put Orca in any particular bind, though.
"Put two more on this—make it four per room, search thoroughly. You three, check the inmates' belongings. You two,"
The smell wafting from Creep's room wasn't just the blood they'd spilled.
"bring inmates Creep and Crow to my office."
The sticky stench of lust and fornication
wafted unpleasantly from within the sheets.