Chương 20: S.04 Memory of the Clock 04(05)

Scene 15_02. Si-yeon: You SSibal bitch. It was a voice without strain, yet firmer than any resolve. Behind Si-yeon's composed vow, the Black Water around the blade — which had been floating there as debris — swirled up. In an instant it severed every grasping black hand around it and sent them back to Black Water. It was a fear she felt for the first time, a tragedy she saw for the first time. An ever-present darkness that had always stood right beside Si-yeon, waiting for her to collapse, readying to devour her.

It was the dread and worry that always sat right beside her. Also, a wretchedness that could in fact, at any moment, come upon her. But not now. Not the thing to be faced now. And it was a thing she did not want to face ever again. She wanted to keep it from being faced. She wanted to block it. She wanted to become a person for whom living was something given. It was a given she had never had. How to live was a later matter. She only wanted to be there beside them. She wanted to be happy among everyone around her.

She did not wish any more — like Mother, like the uncle who had held and raised her, like her little sister Si-a — to send them away. She wanted to get a chance to be with everyone who remained, to feel happiness. She missed Mother and the uncle, and Si-a too. She did not wish ever to lose anyone again. Si-yeon shed black tears, and into the clean-set pupil she had gathered, she drew Black Water.

The Black Water that had filled her surroundings burst in an instant and placed Si-yeon and Su-jeong onto a certain black sand beach. Beyond the black sky and black air, beyond the black sand beach, black waves swelled. Su-jeong, standing right at Si-yeon's nose, had, before she knew it, stained her own eyes black as well, and was looking at the Si-yeon set right before her. The two did not speak. Su-jeong: Dwell here. A while. With me. Si-yeon: Not a chance.

Si-yeon, long hair dripping Black Water, threw back a cold sneer. Watching Si-yeon's set, unwavering face, undaunted by her warning and threat, Su-jeong began to hold tension. How long she could hold out, there was no knowing. The one before her was no ordinary person. Si-yeon, carrying the death she herself had shaped on her back, had come to bear a greater — no, the greatest — death. Su-jeong roused Black Water at her hand and moved to cut off Si-yeon's neck. Si-yeon did not dodge or block that stroke.

The Black Water that met Si-yeon's slender, long neck made not a single wound. To Su-jeong it was a helplessness she was not unfamiliar with. A lowliness where she could do nothing, could not win, could not even scratch. She was powerless. The only thing that differed was that Si-yeon, watching such a Su-jeong, held no pity. With no expression at all, Si-yeon roused Black Water at her own hand and gripped a short blade.

The neck of Si-yeon that Su-jeong's hand had tried to sever remained intact without a single wound, but Su-jeong's arm, severed by the blade Si-yeon had shaped, tumbled to the ground. Su-jeong, with belated shock in her eyes, tried quickly to fall back, but Si-yeon did not let her go. She set her foot on the black sand beach and chased Su-jeong swiftly. She danced. The dance was tragedy and comfort. Su-jeong was not pitiable. No — on hearing her true nature, there had been a moment she had briefly pitied her.

She had thought her a person whose eyes had turned inside out upon losing her little sister, the same as Si-yeon herself. But, decisively, she was not the same. The arrow-swift pursuing dance-figure of Si-yeon cut down Su-jeong's Black Water blindly. Su-jeong could not block Si-yeon's Black Water. Su-jeong (The Weeping of Contrition): No matter if it is you — this is my domain! I am the one that holds your — The Contrition wearing Su-jeong's mask cried out. A craving for its own existence burst forth like a shriek.

Si-yeon, showing no expression at all, severed every stream of Black Water pouring from Su-jeong's hand. The Black Water, torn apart like a thin film, split into piece after piece and burst into fine scatters. Si-yeon's blade-edge reached the line of Su-jeong's throat. The two, halted abruptly, glared at each other in a stillness in which even their breath was not quickened. Unlike Su-jeong, whose eyes were both stained black, Si-yeon's two pupils sat in their original form.

Drawing no expression at all, Si-yeon looked at Su-jeong and spoke. A composed will. A firm voice. Si-yeon: I said it before. I do not wish to comfort my little sister by killing others. Si-a, too, will not wish that. But — Si-yeon's blade-edge cut a little deeper toward the nape of Su-jeong's neck. Si-yeon: Get in the way, torment her — and I will not leave you be. Whoever it is. Never again. Si-yeon, leaving Su-jeong's black-drained eyes where they were, let the blade fade away and took a step.

Si-yeon, having stepped into the quietly swelling black waves, left behind Su-jeong, who could do nothing but stand and gape, and threw her body into the waves. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Scene 16. Seong-hyeon pulled the car into the parking lot in front of a weathered apartment building.

She flew out of the car, yanked open the rear door, waded into the wreckage-of-a-back-seat, and shook Ji-young, who was still sitting there with a blank gaze, as though unable to make any judgment at all, as dumbly as a fool. Seong-hyeon: The Oldest. At Seong-hyeon's calling, Ji-young slowly shifted her blank gaze over to her. Seong-hyeon: You must head to The Oldest's own home right now. When you go, there will be someone that The Oldest must save. It is urgent. Ji-young: I, who. Could I, save.

As if drained by terror, Ji-young's blank gaze scarcely came back to her. Unable to go on, Seong-hyeon seized Ji-young and all but dragged her out. With Ji-young pulled out limp before her, Seong-hyeon stood squarely facing Ji-young and gave her a gentle pressing. Seong-hyeon: The Oldest — you must save the real Si-yeon sis. Even for my sake, I beg of you. Ji-young: Really, me? Then, I. What am I. Ji-young's blank, slow voice reached the ear of Seong-hyeon standing right before her.

Seong-hyeon was not about to give up on Ji-young — who was carrying on like a fool — to the very end. Seong-hyeon: Kang Ji-young The Oldest. I beg of you. Please, help Si-yeon sis. Seong-hyeon's last words passed, brushing through the head of Ji-young, who wore Si-yeon's memories over herself. Ji-young's lower jaw began to tremble. Ji-young, saying nothing, moved past Seong-hyeon and began, fumbling, to make her way into the apartment. Scene 17.

So-hui's two wrists, seated in a kitchen chair, were drawn back and bound tight with the Ritual Taboo Rope. Her two ankles were also held by the Ritual Taboo Rope, fixed to the thick legs of the chair. On the living-room floor, the blood that had seeped out from So-hui's side was soaked in thick. Ju-hee: You're the Guide, aren't you? Guess. What I'm going to — Ju-hee drew the small box of needles from her breast and held it up. At the sight, So-hui's body began to tremble despite itself. Ju-hee: Do now.

So-hui's head shook faintly as she glared at Ju-hee. As Ju-hee opened the small, sturdy case, real needles were laid out, sorted by size. Having checked the case, So-hui thrashed urgently to get out of her seat, but she only wasted strength in vain; So-hui could not move a single inch from the chair she had been set in. Ju-hee drew out a needle the length of an adult's middle finger and displayed it to So-hui, who was trying to hide her fright.

So-hui did not want her fright to show, but she could not hide the trembling of her body. Ju-hee: Don't worry. I've done this before. Ju-hee brought the tip of the needle to So-hui's temple and began slowly pressing it in. Ju-hee: She really suffered. Enough to make me feel bad about it. So-hui trembled with the ghastly pain, but through her lips — already crammed with a wad of clothing — a scream did not come easily.

At So-hui's mouth-clenched endurance, Ju-hee, with a surprised look, left the lodged needle where it was and drew out another. Ju-hee: The optic nerve's about around here for you too, isn't it? Ju-hee brought the needle toward So-hui's other temple. So-hui shook her head forcefully, trying to push away Ju-hee's torment. At So-hui's fierce resistance, Ju-hee paused, thought for a moment, and then switched out the needle.

She drew out one slightly thicker and longer, and in a flash drove it into the nape of So-hui's neck. With So-hui unable even to resist, giving up her neck to the long needle, her whole body began to go numb. Only then did Ju-hee switch out the needle again, and slowly press a thin, long needle into the side of So-hui's head opposite the one already pierced. So-hui could not even move her head. So-hui, with no means of resistance left, felt the ghastly pain and yet, to the very end, did not scream.

As though a dim shadow were draping itself over one of her eyes, a numbing sensation crowded in. By stirring the needle she had driven in first, Ju-hee took away So-hui's sight on both sides. With her whole body paralyzed by a single needle in the nape of her neck, So-hui could not even clench her fists. Ju-hee walked around to the back of So-hui, fingertips still trembling.

Holding a finger of So-hui's, she pressed a needle between the nail and the finger, but with So-hui's paralyzed senses and motion, she could not even feel the pain. Ju-hee drove a needle into the tip of every finger of So-hui's one hand. Having set five needles, she came back around to the front, and with force pulled off one of the sneakers So-hui had been wearing. So-hui's small foot sat hidden in a white sock.

Yanking off the white sock with force, Ju-hee took So-hui's small foot, covered in old scars, and drove needles between the toenails. After setting all the needles between the five toenails, she closed the remaining box of needles. Ignoring So-hui's quickened, terrified breath, Ju-hee drew out the needle lodged in the back of So-hui's neck. From every needle set up to that point, every pain came flooding in all at once.

Only then did So-hui let out a ripping scream, and with her bound body she thrashed with all her strength. As she flailed at her wrists and ankles with all her strength, the skin rubbed raw against the tied Ritual Taboo Rope, and wounds opened. At the pain crowding in between her finger- and toenails, her hands and feet curled on their own despite themselves, but with needles wedged between them, So-hui could not even close a proper fist.

At So-hui's torn-open scream, Ju-hee, at last, gazed upon So-hui — shaped as her memory had fashioned — and seized a rough handful of her unbound, long hair. Ju-hee: Now. Speak. So-hui barely swallowed a scream and, against Ju-hee's mockery, shook her head to the very end, meaning not to say a word. Ju-hee pulled out all the cloth that had been set in So-hui's mouth. Ju-hee: Where is Kang Ji-young. So-hui did not answer.

Ju-hee: Because of that Kang Ji-young or whatever the fuck her name is, I couldn't even die when I should have, and got dragged up here. So talk. It's all your lot's fault, so talk. So-hui gave no word, no reaction. Ju-hee, who had bent low to get So-hui's confession, straightened again and let out a small sigh. With a sigh-tinted step she walked back around behind So-hui, drove a needle into the slender, long neck, and paralyzed So-hui's senses. So-hui was holding her quickened, terror-filled breaths.

Ju-hee: So you're not going to talk to the end, are you. So-hui showed no reaction at all. Ju-hee: It just hurts a little. If you pull these out, you can live just fine, so hold on a bit more. Ju-hee drove needles into the rest of So-hui's fingernails and toenails, then pulled the needle from So-hui's neck again. A ghastly scream broke from So-hui's mouth. So-hui, who could not even see in front of her, unable to do this or that, was putting every bit of herself into somehow bearing the pain. Ju-hee: Now.

As So-hui's ripping scream began to subside, Ju-hee once more seized a brutal handful of So-hui's hair. Ju-hee: Where is Kang Ji-young.