Chapter 10
“Hmm.”
Hunter, who’d been quietly observing the entire situation, finally spoke. This was unexpected. He turned off the television. In the darkened screen, Hunter slowly stroked his chin.
“The progress is pleasingly fast.”
Hunter glanced at the calendar on the table. A red circle marked a date three days from now.
He looked down at it with cold eyes, then raised his head at the sound of the doorbell. Someone impatient couldn’t wait and was banging loudly on the front door. Hunter leisurely put on his jacket. Among the neighbors, only one person would behave so rudely and fearlessly.
“Hey, Hunter. Can’t you come out faster? Are your joints giving out because you’re getting old already?”
“Yes. Good evening, Theo.”
Hunter leaned against the door, smiling slightly, and lit a cigarette. “Ugh, you’re such a chain smoker.” He watched Theo fake-gag with a contemptuous look for a moment before asking, “Why are you looking for me at this hour? I don’t have snacks for ill-mannered kids like you.”
“Never mind that, just lend me your lawnmower.”
“Why? Did you suddenly decide to make your yard pretty at this hour?”
“Yeah. I’m thinking of throwing a really fun party at my house soon.”
Theo answered with a chuckle. At his words, Hunter’s smile vanished.
“If you make a racket again, I won’t let it slide this time.”
“I got it, I got it.”
“Feel free to drop by if you want,” Theo said with a hint of amusement in his tone.
“I’d rather not burst my eardrums.” Hunter shook his head. “The lawnmower’s in the backyard, so take it.”
“Oh, thanks.”
As Hunter turned to close the door, Theo grabbed his wrist.
“Oh right, tell Hyungoh to come to the party.”
“Hyungoh? Why?”
“Just because. He looked pitiful without any friends. Thought I’d play with him.”
Theo’s broad smile was mischievous. Hunter looked at him suspiciously.
“Well… okay.”
It was suspicious, but he decided not to worry about it. No matter how headstrong Theo was, he wasn’t complete human trash. More importantly, Hunter didn’t care as long as it didn’t affect him.
Still, Hunter was a bit surprised. Theo only maintained close relationships with his existing group—both at school and outside—and didn’t make new friends. Despite his lively, playful personality, he was surprisingly uninterested in other people. Yet, whether due to his looks or personality, he always had people around him, and some students wanted to join Theo’s group. Naturally, they weren’t accepted.
Seems that guy took a liking to Hyungoh for some reason. Hunter shrugged and closed the front door.
Upon closer inspection, Theo didn’t seem to have the USB. If he really had it, he would’ve been quite triumphant. He might’ve waved it in Hunter’s face just to tease him. Hunter thought with his eyes closed. Watching Hyungoh’s fake performance just now, a hypothesis suddenly occurred to him.
Did he lie to me?
It was entirely possible. He might not have known before, but judging by what Hunter had observed recently, Hyungoh was someone who could lie with ease. This is getting more interesting. Hunter grinned. If Hyungoh had the USB, and by some small chance had unlocked it…
“Well, whose son is he after all.”
Hunter, lying on the sofa, muttered. His face, now stripped of its smile, looked as cold as could be.
***
Michael eventually cried himself out and fell asleep. He kept mumbling something right before drifting off, but Hyungoh couldn’t understand the words at all.
He lifted Michael’s drooping form into his arms and laid him on the bed. His body was light as a feather. Being this light, when would he ever grow taller? Michael’s face, sleeping peacefully, was more beautiful than an angel’s. His parents gave him a fitting name. Hyungoh gently stroked his hair.
What troubled you so much?
Seeing him sleep after exhausting himself from crying made Hyungoh’s heart ache. What harsh words did I say to make him so emotional he cried as if the world was ending? Did I accidentally touch one of Michael’s wounds? It wasn’t intentional, you know.
When he opened the door and stepped into the hallway, Marsha was nowhere to be seen. Huh. She usually stands guard at the door like a stone statue—what’s going on? Hyungoh looked around and walked alone down the quiet hallway. Should I just leave? No, I should tell Marsha about the state of Michael’s room. All that overturned furniture looks too suspicious.
Who could it be? The person who trashed the room. Surely not Marsha… right? She didn’t seem the type. Deep in thought, Hyungoh crushed the weeds spread across the garden beneath his foot.
“Hyungoh.”
Marsha half-emerged from the darkness that had fallen over the back garden. Her suit, always neatly arranged, was slightly disheveled.
“Oh, Marsha. Where have you been? I was looking for you.”
“Something came up. I was taking care of it.”
“Ah…”
Hyungoh glanced down at Marsha’s sleeve, stained with dirt. Noticing his gaze, Marsha discreetly put her hands behind her back.
“How’s Michael?”
“He just fell asleep. Don’t worry.”
Suspicious.
While carefully observing her with her hands behind her back, Hyungoh suddenly noticed the cake box still in his grip.
“That’s right. Would you like some cake? I forgot to give it to Michael.”
Hyungoh approached Marsha with large strides, using the cake as an excuse. The eerie backyard, hidden in darkness, gradually revealed itself.
Contrary to his expectations, there was nothing particularly special. All he could see was a flower bed with sparsely planted flowers and a shovel randomly strewn on the ground. It looked somewhat empty given the vast space—not much placed in it.
Wait.
Hyungoh narrowed his eyes. What’s that? The stem of one flower in the bed was unusually thick. No, is that even a flower?
Then what is it?
“Stop.”
Marsha covered Hyungoh’s eyes with her palm as he approached closer. Stop and go back. A warning was embedded in her deeply lowered voice.
Hyungoh couldn’t answer. Marsha removed her hand from his stiffened face and looked at him. Hyungoh could see his reflection in her eyes. His trembling pupils looked precarious. He couldn’t easily look away.
“…See you next time.”
Hyungoh barely moved his stiffened tongue and spoke calmly. Until he left the vicinity of the house, he couldn’t simply ignore Marsha’s gaze fixed on his back. But he didn’t look back. His instinct told him: Don’t ever look back.
Hyungoh cautiously swallowed. With his hand drenched in sweat, he fumbled around his eyes. He could still clearly feel the warmth that had been on Marsha’s palm.
That hand had a stench so terrible it made him want to vomit. A smell he’d encountered before.
“Ah…”
His head was spinning. His stomach churned. Even with soap, even with detergent, that smell wouldn’t disappear. It was such a persistent, irritating smell that stubbornly survived to torment his nostrils. That’s why it was all the more disgusting.
He felt faint. Like he might collapse at any moment. Staggering, as soon as Hyungoh turned the corner of the alley, he leaned against the wall and exhaled the breath he’d been holding.
“The smell of blood.”
Hyungoh muttered. And it was fresh blood—a warm and intense metallic smell. At the sudden feeling of eerie déjà vu, Hyungoh’s eyes flew open. He recalled the flower bed he’d seen earlier, that flower with the unusually thick stem. Long petals with a drooping stem. No, was it really a flower?
“…No.”
It’s not a flower.
Hyungoh calmly covered his mouth. The ominous thoughts in his mind swirled into a storm.
That was definitely a human hand.
