Chapter 6: The World I Created (6)

The Deer Mask clung to Kang Hyeonseong’s pant leg, begging for his life. Kang Hyeonseong tilted his head at an angle.

“Why should I spare the bastard who watched my friend die while giggling like a fool?”

There was no expression left on Kang Hyeonseong’s face. His rage had peaked, turning cold and piercing.

The mask slipped off, revealing a face twisted in terror. A dark stain spread down his pant leg.

“I-I’ll pay…! Name your price for my life! Whatever you want, yeah?! You’re with the Resistance, right? All that talk of freedom and justice… it all boils down to money in the end…!”

“Do you thugs think money can buy anything?”

Kang Hyeonseong scowled fiercely.

The Deer Mask man shot back with genuine confusion.

“Isn’t that obvious? What in Lake City can’t money buy-?!”

Crack!

The man’s jawbone twisted off in an unnatural direction. His tongue dangled from his lower jaw like a pendulum.

Whoosh.

Kang Hyeonseong swung his fist in a hooking blow, shattering the man’s cheekbone. The pressure burst one of his eyeballs free.

“How do all these city government bastards end up like this? Don’t they even run background checks?”

Yu Dahui kicked the corpse with her boot. Behind her, bodies piled up like a small hill—easily over ten.

“Still, that Lee Taebaek kid’s a real lucky charm. Execution day meant lighter security than usual and weaker fighters overall.”

Yu Dahui wiped her glasses on the relatively clean front of her coat as she spoke.

“Plus, thanks to him holding out for over five minutes, our side barely took any losses. He’s talented in more ways than one.”

“Save the admiration. Go check on Lee Taebaek’s condition.”

“Ugh. Figures the battalion commander would bark orders like that.”

“Doctors check patients first. How is it you killed more people than you saved? That’s why they call you ‘Yu Die’—the doctor who kills people.”

“Wanna test that nickname one more time?”

Yu Dahui narrowed her eyes sharply, and Kang Hyeonseong averted his gaze. She slipped her glasses back on.

“Anyway, I was already planning to, so quit nagging. Men and their stupid sense of brotherhood.”

Yu Dahui clicked her tongue briefly, shoving aside the blocking corpses with the sides of her feet as she headed toward the electric chair. She didn’t spare the bodies a single glance.

Soon, she stood at Lee Taebaek’s feet.

She shot him a curt look before speaking.

“Kang Hyeonseong’s got good taste.”

Yu Dahui suddenly leaned in close. Lee Taebaek flinched instinctively, twisting his head away.

They were close enough for their breaths to mingle. From that intimate distance, she examined him from every angle.

“You really endured the electric chair for six whole minutes… Even covering your whole body in rubber prosthetics wouldn’t make that possible.”

“Back off and talk.”

Lee Taebaek glared back at her. Yu Dahui pursed her lips into a circle and took a step away.

“Tough eyes too. Perfect fit for our squad.”

For some reason, Yu Dahui smiled softly. The smile felt familiar. It looked just like Team Leader Seo’s.

Only the looks, though—the vibe was the total opposite.

Team Leader Seo’s dark version. What she’d look like after being steeped in blood and gore.

“Hm.”

“…!”

A crack flashed across Yu Dahui’s face. She instantly fixed her gaze on Lee Taebaek and drew her gun.

Bang!

Hot smoke curled from the barrel. A dying groan came from the impact point.

“Grk… ugh.”

A guard froze in firing position. Blood sprayed from the bullet hole through his forehead as he collapsed.

“Kang Hyeonseong said to leave two guards alive, but anyone pointing a gun at us is fair game.”

Yu Dahui blew away the gunpowder scent.

“Right?”

“Yeah. Nice shot! That’s one more kill for you, Doctor Yu Dahui!”

Kang Hyeonseong called back from a distance. He was filming the survivors with a camera, checking for any innocents among the casualties.

He’d just gotten out of prison himself, but he’d jumped straight into the fray. No sign of celebrating his release. A battalion commander through and through.

“Phew. It’s over.”

His gaze shifted from the lingering rot to the stage. He strode over, claiming space with his presence.

“How’s Lee Taebaek holding up?”

Kang Hyeonseong stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Yu Dahui and asked.

“Torn blood vessels, every muscle ruptured… but he’s hanging in there okay. We’ll get him back to base for treatment—he’ll make a full recovery. But that’s not the point…”

Yu Dahui glanced at Kang Hyeonseong with clear displeasure.

“Kang Hyeonseong, you barely worried about me or the squad… so why are you babying this guy?”

Kang Hyeonseong scratched just above his eyebrow with his thumb.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’ll admit I got a little excited meeting another Korean after all this time. Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s been months since we last saw each other!”

Listening to them felt strange. These characters he’d created were fussing over him… He just wanted them to hurry up and unlock these restraints. Quit yapping already.

“Oh, right.”

Finally, thought Lee Taebaek, perking up.

Kang Hyeonseong suddenly headed toward the curtain call side of the stage.

Rip.

He tore off the bulging section. The last surviving guard huddled there, trembling.

Grab.

Kang Hyeonseong seized him by the nape and flung him at Lee Taebaek’s feet like trash.

Thud. The floor shook lightly.

“Pl-please spare me! I’m sorry, so sorry!”

Kang Hyeonseong looked down at the guard impassively. Meanwhile, Yu Dahui reached for Lee Taebaek’s handcuffs.

“…Security code’s a real pain. Executioner cuffs use a different system from yours, Kang Hyeonseong.”

She said that, but she was smiling.

“Give me about twenty seconds.”

As soon as Yu Dahui finished speaking, green text appeared over her glasses. Binary strings of 1s and 0s rained down across the curved lenses.

Clank.

Moments later, unbelievably, the restraints unlocked. Lee Taebaek awkwardly flexed his wrists. His joints and ligaments creaked like rusty, unoiled machine parts.

…Still.

It’s been a week. I’ve got my freedom back.

He couldn’t show it given the situation, but Lee Taebaek was thrilled enough to jump. If only they would leave him alone.

“Taebaek.”

A deep voice landed on his back. He turned with a start, and a lump of metal filled his vision.

A gun. A revolver. Kang Hyeonseong held it backward, offering the grip to Lee Taebaek.

“You must be out of it after coming back from the dead, but this is a gift for you.”

Lee Taebaek met Kang Hyeonseong’s eyes. There were laugh lines at the corners, but his pupils were dark and still.

Kang Hyeonseong was ordering him to kill. Right in front of him—to gun down the guard.

Prove your innocence.

He hadn’t fully dismissed the suspicion that Lee Taebaek was a Siesta hound.

He wasn’t even trying to hide it. Hesitate for a split second, and he’d flip the revolver in an instant, jamming the barrel against Lee Taebaek’s head.

Believe every word in Reycons without question, and you’re the real idiot.

Lee Taebaek wasn’t the only one who read the intent. The guard turned his pleas toward him.

“Ta-Tae… Taebaek…!”

Worthless drivel.

Lee Taebaek snatched the revolver from the pot-lid-sized hand.

He hooked his index finger on the trigger and thumbed back the hammer with a click. The metallic snick tingled his fingertips.

The guard seemed bisected by the gun barrel. Sights perfectly aligned. Time to fire.

Bang.

The gunshot thudded heavily. As the dead man slumped, silence finally fell over the execution site like a closing curtain.

Lee Taebaek slowly extended his bent elbow. Heavy recoil. His hand had flown back past his shoulder.

But compared to the weight of a life, it was featherlight.

This experience, this world—they were real to Lee Taebaek. Normally, one would convulse or scream in horror.

Yet Lee Taebaek remained calm. How had he severed his emotions, judging purely on reason?

Drip.

One of Lee Taebaek’s shoulders dipped. Kang Hyeonseong had slung an arm around it. He gave Lee Taebaek’s chest a light approving punch.

“Not like a Siesta hound at all—zero hesitation in that shot!”

Praise for murder felt strangely fresh. Murder itself was a novel first for him, after all.

“I should’ve filmed it myself. Your eyes were so steady—no pity for the target at all.”

“I get it, so drop it.”

Kang Hyeonseong didn’t seem annoyed; he just grinned and added,

“Keep the revolver. It’s my release gift to you. Rare old model these days—Colt MK5 Python. Python means ‘silken serpent.’ Sleek like a snake, right? You can’t buy it even if you’re loaded.”

Lee Taebaek looked down at the Colt Python in his hand. The grip’s leather was a bit worn, but otherwise pristine. Well-maintained—the barrel gleamed silver.

“Thanks.”

He awkwardly stuffed it into his pocket. His pant leg sagged a bit. Cold metal pressed against his thigh.

“Let’s go.”

This time, Kang Hyeonseong hooked Lee Taebaek’s arm around his own neck, supporting him fully.

“Yeah, let’s get out. I’m sick of this place.”

“What first once we’re out?”

“Food. Real food for once.”

“Hahaha! Great minds!”

Lee Taebaek and Kang Hyeonseong headed for the door. Yu Dahui followed at a discreet distance.

They exited the execution chamber into the corridor. Battle scars scarred the walls everywhere—slash marks, not bullet holes, so not Yu Dahui’s work.

Impressive skill. Even to Lee Taebaek, a sword illiterate, it screamed first-rate.

Yu Dahui casually revealed the culprit.

“Looks like Fumito cleaned up.”

A bit further, a quiet cavity appeared.

Bodies littered both sides. At the cavity’s far end stood a massive door leading outside.

Light from the outside world seeped through a two-inch gap. Kang Hyeonseong pushed it open with his free hand.

Creeeak.

Dazzling light stabbed their retinas in an instant. Once his dark adaptation finished, Lee Taebaek opened his eyes. His pupils quivered fiercely in thin lids.

“Ah…”

Skyscrapers jutted like shark teeth. Sunlight shimmered beside dizzying towers. Hologram ads blanketed the city below. Air vehicles floated in self-regulating swarms between sky and buildings. The upper layers overflowed with light, while the lower districts languished in shadow—stark as black and white.

“Brightens the eyes, huh?”

Kang Hyeonseong flashed his canines amid the sunset crumbling like devoured sun.

Ah.

Now it truly sank in where this was.

“Welcome, country bumpkin from Seoul.”

This land he breathed, felt, and trod upon.

“This is Lake City.”

The world I created.