Masquerader Chapter 9

“See? If you’d just stayed still, you wouldn’t have had to get hit.”  

 

Muttering under his breath, Gyo-jin reached out toward the unconscious Seol-ah. Ignoring the coat that was doubly fastened with buttons and a zipper, he lowered his gaze. He only needed to take off her pants to get what he wanted, so why had he bothered with the top first? That had been a stupid move.  

 

After briefly checking Seol-ah’s deathly pale face, he bowed his head. He had to strip her before she woke up and started struggling again. Growing impatient, Gyo-jin fumbled with his hands.  

 

“What the hell is this? Fuck…”  

 

A T-shirt was tightly knotted over her pants, making it difficult to find the buckle. After groping around for a while, he finally managed to undo it.  

 

As he dragged the zipper down, his lips stretched into a wide, jagged grin—so he didn’t see it. He didn’t see Seol-ah’s fingers twitch slightly where they lay limp on the floor.  

 

“What the fuck? Boring-ass panties.”  

 

The white underwear revealed between the parted waistband was so plain and modest that it was almost absurd.  

 

“Figures. Just like her personality.”  

 

Gyo-jin pressed a palm against his forehead, shaking his head. A scoff, thick with excitement, escaped his lips—when suddenly, a faint voice pierced his ears.  

 

“…Don’t touch me.”  

 

The voice was low and strangled, as if forcibly suppressed, and on the verge of breaking.  

 

“Ugh, just stay unconscious, will you? What are you even trying so hard to stay awake for? Think you’ll see something good?”  

 

Gyo-jin smirked and looked up. Or rather, he tried to—but he never got the chance.  

 

Because at that moment, something large, heavy, and pitch-black slammed into his face.  

 

Thud!  

 

“Urgh…”  

 

The massive body that had been straddling Seol-ah toppled to the side. Thud. A cloud of pale dust rose from the floor. Seol-ah sluggishly muttered to herself as she shoved Gyo-jin’s arm off her chest.  

 

“I told you… not to touch me.”  

 

She couldn’t feel her hands.  

 

Thick, dark red blood dripped from the walkie-talkie clenched in her grip.  

 

***  

 

Did I kill him?  

 

What if he’s dead?  

 

“Haa, hah…”  

 

Her breath came out in ragged gasps. She wandered endlessly through the dense mist. It felt as though she was walking underwater. With every step she took, her body sank heavier, as if she were floundering in a deep swamp.  

 

Farther. She had to get as far away as possible.  

 

She didn’t have a specific destination. The only thing that mattered was putting as much distance as possible between herself and the shelter. That, above all else, felt like an urgent task.  

 

Everything else—the desperate survival instinct, the fierce will to make it out of here alive—had long faded. So much so that she wasn’t even sure why she had held on this far. Like the suffocating fog that blanketed the entire mountain.  

 

A bead of sweat hanging from her chin finally dropped to the ground.  

 

Her legs were growing weaker.  

 

The fact that she had made it this far was nothing short of a miracle from God. That is, if that damn God even existed.  

 

The intervals between her faltering knees shortened. It wouldn’t be surprising if she collapsed at any moment. Her hazy eyelids drooped heavily. Then, as if moving by sheer momentum, her body tilted forward.  

 

Ah. I’m falling.

 

The thought was distant, as if she were observing someone else’s predicament.  

 

She quietly braced herself for the searing pain that would inevitably come. But instead of hitting the ground, what swept over her was…  

 

A deep, weighty, and overwhelmingly pleasant scent. A strong arm caught her around the waist.  

 

“Hey.”  

 

She found herself pulled into a solid embrace, and their eyes met. It was him. The man who smelled terrifyingly good.  

 

“Can’t you hear me?”  

 

She blinked. She hadn’t even heard him approaching. She had no idea what he was talking about. Her unsteady gaze lifted to meet his. Sweat beaded his forehead.  

 

“Why…”  

 

Her lips barely moved. Had he been looking for her? Even though he had so coldly abandoned her earlier?  

 

“Why are you here?”  

 

His breath, low and heavy, brushed against her lips. Since she was still held in his arms, the distance between them was unnecessarily close. His brows furrowed slightly as he spoke.  

 

“I showed you the way down, didn’t I?”  

 

“Why didn’t you help me back then?”  

 

Why didn’t you go with me?  

 

Resentment flickered in her eyes. She knew she was blaming the wrong person. But she didn’t care.  At this point, did she need a reason or logic to resent someone? Nothing that had happened to her had followed any reason or logic.  

 

“…”  

 

The crease in his brow smoothed. He looked down at her with an expressionless face. His gaze was utterly devoid of guilt, remorse, sympathy, or compassion.  

 

Had she expected that kind of man to care?  

 

No. None of it mattered anymore.  

 

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”  

 

Summoning the last of her strength, she steadied her trembling body and stood up straight.  

 

She tried to step out of his hold—but the arm around her waist didn’t let go.  

 

Instead, his cold gaze swept slowly from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, as if assessing her condition.  

 

A face so pale it had turned almost blue, a neck covered in scratches and scrapes, an overcoat with all its buttons torn off, a hand trembling finely as it held a radio, and dark red bloodstains dried on the surface.  

 

Unconsciously following the man’s gaze, Seol-ah gasped and dropped the walkie-talkie. She hadn’t even realized she had been holding it until now—she was completely out of her mind.  

 

“Something like that wouldn’t have been enough to kill him.”  

 

Her bloodstained hand trembled violently. At the man’s words, her pupils, which had been quivering as if shaken by an earthquake, abruptly froze. The man knew. He knew whose blood it was.  

 

Her mind went blank, bleached white.  

 

“I-I…”  

 

Meaningless syllables hovered on the tip of her tongue, but none managed to form into proper words. The man, gazing into Seol-ah’s eyes, whispered,  

 

“Should I kill him?”  

 

His voice, terribly low, brushed against her ears. It was merely sound waves created by air particles, yet it was strange. The sensation felt as if something was softly caressing the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine.  

 

“Let go…!”  

 

Seol-ah straightened her back and roughly pushed the man’s arm away. She had used all her strength, and the recoil made her body sway unsteadily.  

 

Instead of letting go of her waist, the man tried to grab her forearm. Seol-ah flailed like a person in convulsions, wrenching herself free and stumbling backward. The wet twigs beneath her feet snapped.  

 

“D-Don’t come any closer.”  

 

“Fine. Just come here.”  

 

The man extended his hand cautiously as he spoke. His perfectly expressionless face betrayed no emotion, making it impossible to discern his true intentions. And yet, his gesture felt eerily like someone soothing a madman.  

 

How ironic. A man devoid of sympathy or compassion was suddenly so kind to someone who had lost their mind.  

 

“Leave me alone. Why… why are you doing this, now of all times?”  

 

“You’re in danger.”  

 

“As if it even matters what happens to me.”  

 

She spat out the words as if grinding them between her teeth. She truly wanted him to leave her alone. In truth, she just wanted to disappear from this world. She was too exhausted.  

 

As she turned away, the ground beneath her feet suddenly gave way. The damp earth crumbled with a rumbling sound, swallowing her up as she lost her balance and slid down.  

 

Ah, so this is what he meant by danger?  

 

The sensation of floating in midair was bizarre. In that split second when time seemed to stop, everything she had endured throughout the day flashed before her eyes like a running reel.  

 

So this is how it ends?  

 

A hollow breath escaped between her parted lips. She wasn’t afraid. She was so exhausted that she just wanted everything to stop. In a way, she might have even welcomed it.  

 

It was simply empty and meaningless—like watching the ending of a third-rate tragedy.  

 

And so, Seol-ah plummeted downward.  

 

Just before she lost consciousness, she had one last thought.  

 

She had thought it was only her ears that had gone bad, but it seemed her mind had finally snapped as well.  

 

A large hand wrapped around the back of her head.  

 

She had been the one to lose her footing—so why was this man holding her in his arms?  

 

She must have been hallucinating.  

 

Even as they fell, the eyes staring intently at her shimmered with a strange, shifting shade of blackened ash.