Masquerader Chapter 2

Was it just needless worry?  

 

We call it needless worry when we concern ourselves with things that haven’t happened yet. But what I experienced wasn’t needless worry—it was an instinctual warning.  

 

Seo Gyo-jin, whose polished façade made him seem somewhat affable, discarded his mask not long after the first gunshot echoed from afar.  

 

As Seol-ah focused on the map, Gyo-jin suddenly asked,  

 

“Seol-ah, do you have a boyfriend?”  

 

She lifted her gaze from the map but, instead of answering, looked straight ahead. The forest path stretched endlessly, well-maintained enough that even a first-time visitor could walk it without trouble. However, as they ventured deeper, the trees on either side grew denser and more overgrown.  

 

“Ah, I should’ve asked this before bringing you here, shouldn’t I? If you’re already in a relationship and I’ve put you in an awkward situation, I apologize.”  

 

Wouldn’t it make more sense to apologize for dragging someone along against their will, regardless of their relationship status? That thought crossed her mind, but Seo Gyo-jin had long erased from his memory the fact that he had coerced her into coming.  

 

“Is your boyfriend an office worker? How did you two meet? Is he older?”  

 

Even as Seol-ah stubbornly ignored him, Seo Gyo-jin, assuming she had a boyfriend, continued to fire off questions.  

 

“You don’t seem like the type to prefer younger men, though. Am I right? I have a pretty good sense about these things—I can tell at a glance. Do you see your boyfriend often?”  

 

Although she wasn’t usually short-tempered, Seol-ah felt her patience wearing thinner by the second. How much longer did she have to endure this?  

 

She glanced at her wristwatch. The hunting course was said to take anywhere from an hour to two hours. It had only been about fifteen minutes since they left headquarters. It felt as though an entire day had passed.  

 

“Where do you usually go on dates? The movies? An art museum? Or do you just stay at home?”  

 

…He really talks a lot.  

 

He had said he was planning to catch something impressive, but with all the chattering, even the prey that had been there was about to run away. Swallowing a weary sigh, Seol-ah opened her mouth for the first time since stepping into the forest path.

 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

 

At her first response, Seo Gyo-jin raised his eyebrows in surprise.

 

“Why not? You seem popular.”

 

“It’s bothersome.”

 

“I guess there have been a lot of guys pestering you.”

 

“Not really. I’m just not interested.”

 

Seol-ah cut him off firmly. It was an answer to his question and, at the same time, a statement directed at Seo Gyo-jin.

 

Since he had initially brought her along to counter his fiancée, he could use her for that purpose as much as he liked. Whether it was a power struggle or a love quarrel between a chaebol couple, as long as she could endure it for a day and ensure her mother’s job remained unaffected, nothing else mattered to her.

 

But right now, his fiancée wasn’t even present; it was just the two of them. She wasn’t so oblivious as to not notice that his personal interest in her was exceeding the original intent.

 

“…Hmm, I see.”

 

Did he understand what she meant? Seo Gyo-jin let out a faint, amused sigh.

 

“That’s a shame.”

 

Before they knew it, the surroundings had grown dim. The densely packed trees, entangled like a maze in a battle for territory, had swallowed up all the sunlight that had once lined the path.

 

The beams of light that managed to squeeze through the canopy painted white patches on the leaf-covered ground. Seo Gyo-jin stared at them absentmindedly, as if mesmerized by the glowing spots.

 

Whoosh. Suddenly, a strong wind swept through. The rustling of the leaves sounded eerily like the roar of waves.

 

“I actually prefer messing with things that belong to someone else.”

 

As Seo Gyo-jin murmured in a low voice, a burst of static erupted from the radio tucked into his coat pocket.

 

— Mr. Seo Gyo-jin. You have entered the intensive hunting zone.

 

Startled by the unfamiliar noise, Seol-ah flinched. The radio, which had just emitted the announcement, fell silent once more. She could have sworn she had just heard something.

 

“…What did you say?”

 

“If you didn’t hear it, then never mind.”

 

Seo Gyo-jin laughed it off as if it were nothing and cocked his gun with a click. It was a sound she had never heard before in her life. Keeping his cheek pressed firmly against the rifle stock, Seo Gyo-jin gave a warning.

 

“Put your earplugs in properly.”

 

“…”

 

“Otherwise, your ears will hurt.”

 

Standing with his legs slightly apart, Seo Gyo-jin cast a sideways glance to check if Seol-ah had put in her earplugs before shifting his gaze to the front sight. The muzzle of the gun, which had been pointed skyward the entire time they walked, was now aimed at its target.

 

Seol-ah lifted the monocular to her eye and followed the direction of the gun barrel. A dark-feathered bird perched on a branch, preening itself without a care.

 

Run away.

 

The words circled on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t bring herself to say them aloud. A wave of discomfort tightened her throat. As she swallowed dryly, a thunderous gunshot pierced through her earplugs and shook her eardrums.

 

Seol-ah lowered the monocular and looked at Seo Gyo-jin. His rifle was still raised, a thin wisp of smoke rising from the muzzle. Slinging the shotgun back over his shoulder, Seo Gyo-jin extended his hand toward her.

 

“Dope.”

 

Seol-ah handed him the monocular. Seo Gyo-jin carefully examined the base of the tree where he had fired, searching for his prey. The sharp scent of gunpowder still lingered in the air.

 

“Go retrieve it.”

 

“…What?”

 

“What are you standing around for? Retrieving the prey is your job, isn’t it? It should be under that tree. Go get it.”

 

Without further questioning his arrogant command, she moved in the direction he pointed. The leaves beneath her feet were damp and slippery. The deep forest, cut off from sunlight, was humid, and the ground, covered in wet leaves, was mushy.

 

Careful not to slip, Seol-ah approached the tree where the bird had been perched. She glanced around as if searching for fallen prey, but her mind was elsewhere.

 

She was replaying the moment the gun fired in her head, remembering how the dark-feathered bird had flapped its wings and flown into the sky.

 

It clearly hadn’t been hit and had escaped…

 

Had she seen it wrong? Or was Seo Gyo-jin just making her do his work?

 

Hoping it was the latter, she circled the tree. There were no traces of a wounded bird or blood, just a few scattered feathers. It seemed she had been right.

 

Seol-ah let out a quiet sigh. There were plenty of people stomping through this mountain with guns today, so hopefully, it had flown far away.

 

Just as she decided to turn back—

 

“…!”

 

A sudden, forceful grip pressed against her back. Without warning, she was shoved forward, falling flat on her stomach.

 

Her body collapsed onto the damp leaves. Instinctively, she threw her hands out to break the fall, barely preventing her face from hitting the ground. Her palms and knees stung from the impact. Before she could even process what had happened, a rough hand seized her shoulder and spun her around.

 

She found herself staring up at Seo Gyo-jin, who was crouched over her. He smirked down at her stunned expression.

 

“You’re not even that surprised.”

 

“…”

 

“Most other girls would’ve screamed by now.”

 

Behind Seo Gyo-jin’s face, the thickly clustered leaves shuddered in unison.

 

“…What are you doing right now?”

 

“What else? This is the real game.”

 

A chilling wind swept over her entire body. The real game, this?

 

“Look forward to it. It’s going to be really fun.”

 

Seo Gyo-jin chuckled so hard that deep wrinkles formed on the bridge of his nose. Then, he lowered the gun slung over his shoulder and slowly ran his hand along its long, black body as if caressing it.

 

Thump, thump, thump—her heart pounded near her temples. The barrel, once pointed at the sky, now aimed directly at Seol-ah. She tore her gaze away from the muzzle and looked at Seo Gyo-jin instead.

 

“You’re taking this joke too far.”

 

“The real extreme part hasn’t even started yet.”

 

Seo Gyo-jin mimicked her tone with a smirk. The cold gun barrel slid up her stomach and suddenly flicked open the hem of her coat. The radio tucked into her coat pocket was dragged along, rattling inside the pocket.

 

“Stop this.”

 

Seol-ah spoke in a deliberately calm voice. Raising her voice unnecessarily and provoking him wouldn’t be a good idea.

 

“If you stop here, I won’t make an issue out of this.”

 

“Are you fearless? Or just pretending not to be scared?”

 

Seo Gyo-jin scratched his cheek as he slung the gun back over his shoulder, taken aback by her composed response.

 

“Most girls would be sobbing by now, begging me to just let them live. Your reaction is definitely a fresh one.”