Villainy (2)
This seems a bit too harsh, honestly.
Kim Hana.
She was the chief medical officer of the Seoul Base, which meant she'd built up quite a bit of rapport with the Units over the years.
That was exactly why she'd obeyed without question when Lee Sera pulled her aside.
"Doctor. Don't tell anyone — just come up to the Command Room."
And so she climbed up there alone, and witnessed it.
"……"
The Command Room was a disaster zone. Wind kept howling through the shattered window frame, sending papers and debris spiraling — it was genuinely dangerous in there.
But more than anything, there was her.
"Commander."
A girl with sharp, cutting eyes and raven-black hair.
……No, she'd graduated from being a girl last month. She was a grown woman now, a full adult, the one entrusted with the crushing weight of the Security Bureau's command.
The Commander held her breath as a few stray tears spilled down onto the floor.
Did she not feel the pain at all?
Her hands were bloody, glass fragments embedded in them, and yet she was desperately trying to tidy up the wrecked room all by herself. Watching her, Kim Hana felt something in her own chest twinge.
"Come to the Medical Bay first."
"……"
She could see the Commander clenching her teeth. As if she couldn't bear to be seen in such a wretched state.
"Ah…."
The Commander's mouth opened and closed, struggling to say something — anything.
"It's okay, Commander."
Kim Hana knew perfectly well that she couldn't.
The Commander slowly rose from the floor. When she lifted those glass-studded hands to wipe her tears, Kim Hana snatched her wrists in a hurry.
"Don't."
"……"
Haah. Sighing, Kim Hana gently wiped the tears away herself. Those sharp, ferociously upturned eyes — eyes that always glared at the world with contempt — were now brimming over, trembling.
'……Why do you insist on being so cruel to yourself, of all people.'
They say you reap what you sow. This was what people said about the Commander.
"Don't cry."
"……"
Kim Hana had no idea what had happened, but the Commander only wept harder, her face twisting with a sorrow that seemed almost bewildered.
It was nothing like her usual face — that haughty, venomous mask. Only the beauty remained untouched, a beauty that could make even another woman's heart flutter.
'Injustice?'
That was the closest word for it. Her expression carried something like the grief of the wrongly accused.
"Follow me."
"……"
The Commander rose without a word and began trailing silently behind her.
Removing every glass shard embedded in her hands, down to the finest sliver. Staunching the bleeding, disinfecting the wounds, wrapping them in bandages — through the entire ordeal, the Commander did not make a single sound of pain.
It had to have been excruciating. But she gritted her teeth and bore it in absolute silence.
And when it was all over, she pressed a post-it note onto the table instead of saying thank you.
Thank you.
"……Ha."
Watching the scene, Kim Hana didn't know what to think.
It was, well — like dealing with a much younger sibling, she supposed. Someone hopelessly clumsy with people, and just as clumsy with expressing anything at all.
The Commander, shoulders drooping, trudged toward the door, making to leave the pristine white Medical Bay.
"Commander."
Kim Hana found herself calling out before she could stop. Those slumped shoulders were just too pitiful.
"……"
The Commander stopped without a word and quietly turned back.
"It's, um. That is—"
What should she even say? She'd called out on impulse, but now that it came to it…
That was when her eyes landed on the box sitting by the door.
The new Special Ability Test Kit.
'Th-that's it. That'll cheer her up.'
Kim Hana straightened up.
"Commander. Originally, that is… well. You wanted the 'Unit' track, didn't you?"
At first the Commander tilted her head, as if to ask what on earth she meant. Then her pupils slowly widened, and she nodded with sudden urgency.
"Oh, good. I'm glad."
Kim Hana twirled a lock of her pink bob around her finger as she spoke.
"That one there. It's the newly developed Ability Test Kit we just finished. Would you… maybe like to try it? All it needs is a tiny bit of your genetic data."
The Commander flinched and went still, staring at her in silence.
"You need an ability to become a Unit — that's non-negotiable. Miss Lee Sera has Psychokinesis, and Miss Kang Yerin has…"
The Commander said nothing. She simply walked back, step by measured step, took the pen awkwardly in her bandaged hand, and left a note.
I'm busy right now.
Kim Hana was a little taken aback.
The ability test. If the Commander truly longed to be a Unit, she'd expected her to pounce on it without a second thought.
……And it had seemed like it might lift her spirits a little, too.
"Come on, Commander. With the kit, you can find out whether you have an ability at all, faster and simpler than the old method ever could—"
Kim Hana picked up a utility cutter and approached the box. Ziiiip. She slit it open and lifted out the brick-sized kit, holding it out to the Commander.
Smack!
The Commander slapped the kit away with all her strength.
She was desperate.
Clatter.
Only after the kit's contents had spilled across the floor did the Commander realize what she had done.
"Ah—, ugh."
She stood there trembling head to toe, reaching down to gather up the scattered pieces one by one—
"It's fine. It was broken anyway; we couldn't use it."
"……"
Haah. Kim Hana let out a long breath.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't considerate enough, Commander."
The Commander flinched, visibly cowed, fear written plain across her face.
'……She must have been badly hurt by something before.'
If she could do it over… should she have stopped before she even started?
The Commander, frozen in place for a long moment, slowly wrote something on a post-it with a hand that shook and shook.
I'm sorry.
Kim Hana's eyes went wide.
"No, no, it's fi—"
Before she could finish, the Commander bolted out of the Medical Bay.
Treating someone who'd shown you nothing but kindness that way… it was genuinely agonizing.
It was unmistakably my fault, my mistake. There was probably no one else alive who repaid human kindness the way I just had.
'Reflect on yourself.'
Later, I'd apologize properly, a little more—
No. I couldn't.
Because I had to be seen as a scoundrel, a piece of trash, a parachuted-in nobody with no qualifications whatsoever. Everyone had to hate me.
'Still, thank God. Phew.'
Thank God my ability hadn't been exposed — not just for my sake, but for theirs.
My ability must never, ever see the light of day, even if it cost me my life. Only then could it actually be put to use.
So it was best to stay away from the Medical Bay for a while.
I headed for the elevator up to the Command Room. A full thirty stories up — the setting had it that Korea handed over its tallest building to the World Security Bureau in its entirety.
Ding.
I rode to the top floor and returned to the Command Room — but not before stopping by the restroom, of course. I erased every last trace of tears, absolutely and completely.
Truly sharp, truly irritable — I'd learned makeup from top to bottom precisely to hide my real expression, so fixing my face didn't take long at all.
'……Ah.'
Both my hands were wrapped in bandages right now, though. I gave up on the makeup.
I gathered my things into my bag and stepped back into the Command Room.
Vmmm.
"……"
Lunchtime had ended ages ago. And the wrecked Command Room had been restored to its original state at some point — the shattered window glass included.
'I really did cause trouble for everyone.'
I made my way to my seat in the center of the room. There were three major tasks to handle this afternoon. Not that they were anything important, seeing as I was a powerless scarecrow of a commander in name only — but I'd been carrying out my duties with a certain genuine care, if I did say so myself.
'……What is this?'
My work-order emails were all gone.
Had someone been messing with the intranet? No…
I glanced around.
"……"
I stood up from my chair, intending to march over to the agents working at the surrounding desks and demand an explanation. Who had done this?
But every single one of them pretended not to see me.
From the side, hesitantly — someone even tugged at my sleeve to try to turn my attention away—
"Jieun. Did you finish making tomorrow's meeting materials?"
"Working on them now, but this part is a little ambiguous. Could you give me some feedback?"
The whole room did exactly that, slipping past my gaze as though I weren't there.
"……"
I lowered myself slowly into my seat.
It's fine. It doesn't bother me at all.
Actually, it almost made me laugh. A walking inferiority complex, a clueless parachuted nobody.
……A whore.
'Well, the "whore" part is really going too far—'
But then again, this was proof that my act was working exactly as intended.
I pulled out my smartphone. A budget model from years ago, cased in a grimy translucent shell.
……It had been a high school entrance gift from my late mother, so it held a certain sentimental value for me.
That was the setting, anyway.
'All right.'
From this position, at this angle, no one could see my screen. I typed Lee Sera into the search bar.
A long cascade of heroic exploits and photos scrolled past.
'Oh, this one I've never seen before… save. Hmm, this one isn't the original — the resolution's going to be garbage, but…'
One of the few genuine advantages of this world: I could see the game's Units up close, closer than anyone had ever dreamed. It was my one and only hobby.
"Wow. Just how massive is her inferiority complex, that she'd go this far—"
"……"
What?
I'd been too absorbed to notice my surroundings, but an agent had appeared behind me and said that, loudly.
"So serene…."
I turned toward the agent, face burning.
Pff. She smirked and sauntered back to her desk.
I didn't hold back.
Step, step, step — I followed her straight over.
"KYAAAAH!"
And poured the coffee sitting on her desk directly onto her face.