BIUM Chapter 3
by Nikiniks
The man’s blood-soaked eyes stared at Yi-won for a long time.
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It seemed like he wanted to say something, but no words came out.
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Just as Yiwon stepped closer, the man lost consciousness and collapsed into her arms.
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🌙
“P-please, spare me!”
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The woman, who had once proudly adorned her hair with a precious jade hairpin, now had her locks disheveled. Her skin, which she had boasted was as smooth as polished pearls, was now covered in scratches.
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The silk dress bestowed by the Emperor himself was torn and soiled with mud after being dragged here.
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“Even so, I am a person who has received the Emperor’s grace! Please, spare me! I’ll live as if I’m dead, never showing my face again! I’ll just breathe quietly!”
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“Haven’t you already run your mouth too much for that?”
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“I was wrong! Please!”
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The cold, emotionless eyes of the man watched the woman pleading with her hands clasped.
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The dignified demeanor she had shown earlier, flaunting the Emperor’s grace, was nowhere to be seen.
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“Your Highness! Please spare me! Please!”
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The man they were begging for mercy from was none other than Seo Myung, the Crown Prince of Hawon.
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The man’s disinterested gaze turned toward the woman. The sword in his hand moved with a sharp sound.
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Thud—
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The woman’s head fell to the ground without even a scream. The men beside him quickly picked up the head and placed it in a sack.
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“Give it here.”
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The man extended his hand, and the sack containing the head was handed to him. The person handing it over flinched and bowed their head upon seeing the man’s face.
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A face and build almost identical to Myung’s, with a voice so subtly different that no one could tell them apart.
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The only way to distinguish the two was the presence of the character ‘Shadow’ (Fake) carved on his arm. But even that was hidden under his clothes, making his appearance indistinguishable from Myung’s.
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“I’ll go alone. The rest of you, leave.”
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“But Her Majesty the Empress ordered us to assist you, Lord Hwan.”
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〈Seo Hwan〉
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Though he bore the royal surname ‘Seo,’ he was a shadow that could never be revealed to the world.
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High-ranking nobles knew of his existence but dared not speak of it out of fear of Empress Hong.
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Lower officials and palace servants either never saw him or, if they did, regarded him as nothing more than a useful sword for Empress Hong and Myung.
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A face identical to Seo Myung’s.
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A man who could deliver judgment to traitors in Myung’s name and dirty his hands in Myung’s place.
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Occasionally, curious individuals approached Hwan, but they lost their lives before their curiosity or greed could be satisfied.
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“Do you really think it’s a good idea for three men carrying a dripping head, reeking of blood, to walk through the palace together? How amusing.”
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“My lord, that’s not what we meant. We’re just trying to protect you…”
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“If we run into His Majesty while being so friendly, should I just cut your heads off? After all, if we’re caught, someone has to take responsibility.”
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“…”
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“Get lost.”
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The men’s eyes filled with hostility at Hwan’s provocation, but they quickly turned away, unnerved by the twisted aura he exuded.
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Empress Hong and Myung’s dirtiest yet strongest sword.
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Hwan never failed in his tasks.
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Though she regarded his existence as a thorn in her side, Empress Hong kept Hwan close to her and Myung.
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“Disgusting humans.”
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Hwan let out a bitter laugh as he watched the men scurry away without even daring to say they would leave.
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Despite sharing the same face and doing the same dirty work, people bowed to Myung with respect while fleeing from Hwan with unease.
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‘They can’t even tell us apart properly.’
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Even Empress Hong, who had given birth to Myung, couldn’t reliably distinguish between the two. The character carved on his arm was a mark of her anger for failing to do so.
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‘Who are you?’
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The woman had large eyes, red lips, and a gentle, elegant face. Her silk dress was luxurious, but the minimal embroidery on the sleeves made it seem modest for a noblewoman.
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Hwan had only intended to listen to her pipa and leave.
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‘Of all things, her ribbon had to fly away…’
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He had caught it on a whim. Even if he was discovered, he could always pretend to be Myung.
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‘I don’t know why you’re pretending to be His Highness, but if you do this to others, you’ll face serious consequences.’
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The moment her clear, unsuspecting eyes asked no one else had dared to, Hwan was so startled he forgot to breathe.
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Even though she knew he wasn’t Myung, she didn’t scream. Instead, she handed him medicine and a handkerchief to treat his wounds.
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“My lord, have you arrived?”
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As Hwan arrived at Myung’s palace, avoiding prying eyes, Eun Geonmyeong bowed to him.
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Among the sea of enemies, Geonmyeong was one of the few who treated Hwan with kindness.
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“I would’ve gone in on my own. You didn’t need to wait.”
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“Please give me the head. I’ll take it to Her Majesty.”
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“The one who killed should deliver it. No need for you to suffer alongside me.”
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Geonmyeong’s face stiffened at the implied meaning. Though he was fiercely loyal to Myung, he wasn’t oblivious to Hwan’s implications.
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The pungent smell of strong alcohol wafted from behind the closed door. Knowing what was to come, Hwan couldn’t drag Geonmyeong into it.
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As Hwan reached for the door, Geonmyeong stopped him.
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“Your wound from last time doesn’t seem to be healing well. I brought some medicine to ease the pain. Please take it.”
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The medicine Geonmyeong offered was effective for pain. Hwan thanked him and placed it in his pocket.
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At that moment, the woman he had briefly forgotten resurfaced in his mind.
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“By the way, General…”
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“Yes?”
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“Never mind. I’ll go in now.”
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If she was Eun Geonmyeong’s daughter, she was the woman betrothed to become the Crown Princess.
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Hwan wasn’t reckless enough to ask for her name.
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Hiding his true feelings, Hwan opened the door.
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🌙
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A half-naked woman was clinging to Myung, rubbing her body against his.
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Her unfocused pupils and the drool dripping from her mouth made it clear she wasn’t in her right mind.
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This woman had likely thrown herself into his arms, blissfully unaware of what was to come.
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Even for a Crown Prince with a solid foundation, rumors of indulging in debauchery were troublesome.
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“You’re late.”
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Myung, who had been drinking while fondling the court lady, noticed Hwan and stood up. The court lady clinging to him fell to the floor, but he didn’t even glance at her.
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Slap!
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Hwan’s face snapped to the side. Before the pain could even register, a fist struck the other cheek.
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“What’s so difficult about beheading one woman that it took you this long to return?”
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The benevolent and considerate Crown Prince that others saw was nowhere to be found.
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As if punching him wasn’t enough to vent his anger, Myung drove his fist into Hwan’s stomach. Though the drunken punches didn’t hurt much, pretending to be in pain was easier than enduring Myung’s irritation.
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“If you’re alive because of my face, know your place and crawl like the insect you are. A bug hiding in the palace.”
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Myung’s insults grew filthier, accompanied by kicks.
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Hwan bit the inside of his cheek, drawing blood to make it seem worse. Only then did Myung’s kicks stop.
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Even as Myung’s spit landed on his face and body, Hwan curled up on the floor, pressing his face into the ground as if begging for mercy.
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Kneeling and begging for mercy wasn’t particularly difficult.
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“I’m sorry!”
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“Act like the trash you are!”
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Myung grabbed Hwan by the collar and yanked him up. Hwan flailed, pretending to resist.
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Satisfied by the display of dominance, Myung pulled a bottle from his pocket.
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Seeing Hwan’s pained expression eased some of Myung’s pent-up frustration, but it wasn’t enough. Though Hwan still had his uses, the sight of him was enough to make Myung nauseous.
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Grabbing Hwan’s jaw, Myung poured the contents of the bottle into his mouth.
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“Ugh!”
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“Drink it all.”
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Myung covered Hwan’s mouth, forcing him to swallow, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
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This was the real Seo Myung, a side that even Eun Geonmyeong and Empress Hong had never seen—or perhaps chose to ignore.
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A foolish man who hid his true self by venting his anger on Hwan. While others praised Myung’s character, Hwan, who knew him better than anyone, found it all laughable.
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“This time, I picked it out myself.”
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“Ugh!”
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“If you vomit here, I’ll cut off your fingers.”
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The bitter, thick liquid made Hwan’s vision blur and his stomach churn.
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This time, the mixture was stronger, plunging him into darkness as heat surged through his body.
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Every time a task was completed, Myung would reward him with this, which tormented Hwan more effectively than any beating.
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“Seeing you suffer makes me feel a little better.”
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“Cough!”
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“Lock him up with that woman. If he doesn’t want to die, he’ll have to embrace that useless wench.”
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At Myung’s command, eunuchs dragged Hwan and the court lady away. Hwan’s unfocused eyes turned to the woman being dragged beside him.
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“Enjoy yourself.”
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The guards laughed as they locked Hwan and the woman in a storage room. The woman, still out of her mind, moaned incessantly.
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“Hng… Your Highness…”
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The court lady turned her head toward Hwan, a weak smile on her face. Her only memories were likely of her time with Myung.
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Hwan suppressed the heat surging through his body as he looked at her.
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“Your Highness… Please… Please come to me. I feel like I’m dying…”
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Unlike Hwan, who had built up a tolerance to the poison, this court lady would die. If the poison didn’t kill her, she would be beheaded at dawn.
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Biting his lip to suppress the effects of the drug, Hwan stood over her.
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In the beginning, he had almost succumbed and taken the women Myung discarded.
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Back then, he had used a dagger to cut himself, forcing his body to endure the pain rather than give in to the drug’s effects.
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Physical pain had to outweigh the drug’s allure to resist it. It was better to endure physical pain, which could heal, than to let his mind deteriorate.
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Slowly, Hwan learned to resist rather than submit.
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“…Your Highness.”
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Hwan drew his sword and stood before the woman.
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Without hesitation, he swung the blade.
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“Cough!”
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The court lady’s head was severed in one clean strike. The metallic scent of blood filled the air, but Hwan’s eyes showed no emotion.
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Dying at Hwan’s hands, unaware and without fear, was a better end for her than dying in terror after regaining her senses.
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“Your end won’t be much better either.”
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Hwan tore the dead woman’s clothes and gripped her still-warm arm and body.
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Though he had built up a resistance to the drug Myung gave him, he could never let Myung find out.
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The reports that reached Myung’s ears were of a mad dog, driven insane by the drug, killing and rampaging.
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“This batch is weaker than usual.”
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In fact, the pain from his recent wounds was more agonizing. Leaning against the wall in the storage room reeking of blood, Hwan fought back nausea.
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As he steadied himself, he remembered something and pulled out a handkerchief and a small medicine bottle from his pocket.
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— ‘Aren’t they the precious people who form the foundation of Your Highness’s rule? I don’t think it’s too much.’
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The woman who had distinguished Hwan from Myung for the first time.
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The image of Myung’s flustered expression at her bold words brought a rare, genuine smile to Hwan’s lips.
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Thinking of her wouldn’t make her his, and they would likely never meet again.
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Yet, her face and that moment refused to fade from his mind.
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“Darn pipa.”
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In this place where even the sound of a small insect couldn’t be heard, the melody of the pipa from that day lingered in his mind.