Chapter 120: Megacorp Pillar Husband (1)

Rock lay atop the bed.

Her slender, fragile limbs stirred a man’s protective instincts, while her small chest rose and fell gently, evoking a deep sense of pity.

Beep… Beep…

“……”

Her eyelids twitched, then her lashes fluttered open.

Her pale blue eyes, just barely parted, stared up at the ceiling. Her head felt fuzzy, as if she’d only just woken up.

Smoothly.

As she shifted her hand slightly, she felt a papery texture against her skin. A rhythmic beeping from beside her signaled her vital signs.

‘A hospital bed.’

Even though she’d only just come to and her memories cut off completely after following Lee Taebaek to the salon, she could roughly piece together what had happened.

She’d gone along with him half out of desperation, believing his promise to cure her curse speech. Something must have gone wrong midway, landing her in the hospital. It was only natural.

Rock propped herself up unsteadily. With practiced motions, she reached for the mask by her bedside.

Hiss.

As she affixed it to her mouth, steam vented out. It felt more like skin than skin now. She’d been sealed this way since age seven—thirteen years, come this year.

‘This must be my fate.’

Rock smiled bitterly.

She’d told herself she’d accepted it. Born this way, she’d spend her life as a curse speaker.

But deep down, she couldn’t.

The desire to rip this curse from her mouth always surged up. And with it, hope popped like kernels of popcorn.

Swish.

At that moment, the milky white curtain was pulled back. Fumito, spotting her awake, grinned ear to ear.

“Rock! You’re up!”

“……”

Rock sighed inwardly, inaudible to him. Of all the faces to see first thing…

She was grateful, sure, but just seeing Fumito exhausted her. The guy had a motor mouth that drove listeners insane.

“Whoa, sleeping four days straight really cleared up your skin, huh?”

“……”

“Hey, did you grow a bit taller too? Sleep really is the best medicine, right?”

“……”

“I brought apples, but these Korean ones are top quality… Ack!”

Fumito, chattering nonstop, toppled over flat. As he rolled around groaning, Rock glared down coldly. Her V-shaped eyes had struck without mercy.

“*Hwoook* (Why are you the one visiting me in the hospital?)”

“B-Because I was the rep!”

“*Hwoook* (So why are you the rep?)”

If it’d been Lee Taebaek, at least her eyes would’ve feasted. No woman hated a handsome face, even if he wasn’t her type. His psycho personality aside, his looks were flawless.

“R-Rock, I think I’m going blind.”

“……”

“At least pretend to worry! We’re friends!”

“*Hwoook* (Anemone.)”

“A-Anemone?! Just call me an idiot!”

“*Hwoook* (Idiot.)”

Ignoring Fumito’s fussing, Rock pondered.

‘Psycho… path?’

…Maybe not. Her conviction wavered. She recalled him rolling up his sleeves to lift her curse. It hadn’t felt like hypocrisy; he’d been sincere.

A psychopath wouldn’t care about others’ well-being. But Lee Taebaek, unorthodox as his methods were, thought and acted to help those around him.

In Lake City, such lukewarm ideals were dangerously naive. They painted a target on your back, turning you into a sucker. To protect those around you, you needed matching power.

‘Lee Taebaek gradually built that power.’

It hit her anew: he’d grown strong. Compared to his brain prison breakout days, he was a different person.

‘Back then, I thought he was just bluffing.’

They said a man’s words were in his back.

Whatever tonic he’d taken, Lee Taebaek kept growing stronger, surpassing the 9th Battalion to become a Resistance powerhouse. Thanks to him, the 9th gained face—and a stronger voice.

Kang Hyeonseong returned from battalion meetings beaming like a dad with fried chicken. Missions improved, rewards too.

“Ow, my eyes sting.”

Fumito grumbled, rubbing them. Rock shot him a sour look, then shoved the bed aside.

“H-Hey! Where you going, patient?!”

“*Hwoook* (Hospital stays aren’t one or two days. And resting in my room beats lying here.)”

“…Well, fair enough.”

Fumito might be a bit dim, but he was the only one who could communicate with Rock. Thanks to his psychosis.

‘He claims it’s from his shaman lineage and strong spirituality, but gods? Please.’

Hmm, but gods did exist?

Black hair, black eyes, name Lee, Tae…

“By the way, Rock, why’re you still wearing the mask?”

“……?”

What nonsense was this?

Monkey-level IQ dropping to hamster? Serious issue.

“You gotta understand words to keep around…”

…Huh?

Rock was so shocked she choked.

‘Only two of us here?’

So whose was that woman’s voice?

Her frantic gaze swept the room.

No one. Just her.

Which meant the voice was…

“Huh, nicer voice than expected.”

Fumito dusted his butt, smiling.

“Congrats, Rock.”

“……”

Tears welled in her eyes.

“Ah, uh. Not pure celebration? You only did makeup above the nose, now below too—”

Thud!

The window rattled, scattering sunlight. Goldfish in the tank scattered like mad.

Jasbi couldn’t be more satisfied with her recent life.

Once a frail old man’s calculator.

Now she ate like humans, bonded, slept.

No dreams as an AI, but this must be the dreamed life.

One chronic anxiety plagued her, though.

‘…Am I becoming useless?’

Approaching homo sapiens dulled her edge. She’d escaped endless toil, but now idleness bored her.

What if the Creator discarded her as a parasite?

“Cyber psycho.”

His personality would cull Rock’s value without mercy. He’d do it.

‘More machine than me.’

Luckily, the Creator was recuperating. Time until Rock’s verdict bought days to prove worth.

“Just till then, prove my value!”

He won’t toss me then, heh.

‘One good thing…’

Lee Taebaek’s state was off.

After returning with Goeun, he’d holed up meditating nonstop. Peeking past the doorframe, his aura had shifted sharply.

Already unbreakable, now… indescribable. Transcending humanity? Emitting constant infrasound?

“Gotta be stronger, no doubt.”

Levels up with every breath.

‘Can’t stay idle.’

Prove value. Survival demanded it.

Jasbi mounted the podium at Hundred-Fold Sect Branch 1, drawing all eyes, preaching zeitgeist.

“Beneath the heavens, upon the earth!”

“Beneath the heavens, upon the earth!”

She led, believers echoed. Air quivered.

“Lee, Tae, Baek. He alone exists! Overthrow the uppity upper districts gazing down!”

“Hundred-Fold! Hundred-Fold! Hundred-Fold!”

“The one to upend outdated discrimination. His name is Lee, Tae, Baek…”

“Ahh, you again. How long will you shine… Don’t drift further from us…”

“Branches 1 and 2 aren’t enough! Believers, move faster to make more!”

“Holy war! The sacred crusade begins!”

Amid the frenzy, Jasbi smirked darkly. Going to plan.

“Heh heh heh.”

Humans were vulnerable to faith. Always seeking idols, charging at breadcrumbs.

Reading that, Jasbi leveraged data. Stirring lambs as Messiah, spreading ‘His’ gospel, solidifying base.

Obstacles inevitable.

‘Protagonist needs a rival, huh?’

Jasbi glared at a corner. Ban distributed rice balls to kids. Unfazed by her rising power, he did his job.

“Bro, really three rice balls?”

“Eat, take more if short. Beggar Clan sponsoring big lately. Hundred-Fold believers never starve.”

“*Sniff* Ban bro…”

“Don’t cry for me—pray for Him who made this possible.”

“…Hundred-Fold… I worship You.”

The sect split: moderate Ban faction vs. hardliner Jasbi. Despite her faction’s sharp rhetoric, Ban stayed relaxed.

‘Longer with Creator than me?’

Eyes met Ban’s.

He smiled; she scowled.

Tsk.

Jasbi averted her gaze coldly. Need more ground! Monopolize them, spark a holy war!

Then her place secured.

Then Creator wouldn’t discard her!

Jasbi gnawed her thumb. Pupils swirled with anxiety.

Suddenly, Ban approached, wiping hands on clothes.

“Founding Patriarch hasn’t shown lately. He that unwell?”

“……”

Jasbi smugly savored living with Lee Taebaek. She tilted her chin.

“Who knows? Ask him yourself if curious. If he’ll see you.”

“Mm…”

Ban pondered, nodded.

“Gotta visit personally.”

He turned, thanking her.

“Thanks. Was悩ing, but your words decided me. Faithful believer’s advice builds faith.”

“…Huh?”

Too late, she realized.

Jasbi bolted after Ban, exiting the branch.

Goeun leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Her gaze fixed on Lee Taebaek meditating center-room.

“Nonstop like that.”

Worry dripped from her mutter.

Post-salon incident, he’d skipped meals, frozen in pose. No disorder; like a breathing statue.

Still, Goeun left him be. Per Madam Celine, curses circling her and Rock had bounced to him.

Meant to absorb colliding curse mana, but derailed.

‘Whew.’

Her stare yielded no twitch. Sweat beaded on his nose and jaw. Seeing it tugged her heart.

‘Why am I like this?’

Chest ached dryly. Thick emotion surged to her solar plexus.

Goeun shook it off, slipping quietly from the room.

Beggar Clan sent guards regularly; no need, but she lingered near.

Descending stairs, then—

Ding-dong.

Presence outside; doorbell echoed hollowly. Jasbi back for once.

After holing in branch.

‘Fabric maybe?’

Goeun opened; a young woman and older man stood.

“Pleased to meet you.”

Intruders. Her brow arched gracefully; woman preempted with card.

“I’m Daesung Secretary General.”