Chapter 20: Yosep

It was done.

It felt as if time had stopped.

Step. Step.

Only the faint sound of footsteps treading on grass echoed softly.

Even the gathered children held their breaths, and the shoulders of the boy gripping his sword looked endlessly broad.

“Ugh… Kids these days sure are sharp. They understand when you tell them to kill someone, just like that.”

Jin Tae commented just loud enough for the children beside him to hear, referring to the boy walking forward.

‘Thanks to him, I’ll get to see something interesting.’

He thought this as he watched Taehoo’s back standing before the towering tree.

Unlike Jin Tae’s heart, which brimmed with amusement, the heart of the child holding the knife pounded wildly.

So tense, it felt as if his heart was right by his ear.

He gripped the dagger in his hand tightly.

His name was Mun Yosep.

Seeking a god no one believed in anymore, Yosep’s parents had told him to live. To survive, they had said.

Even as they died at the hands of humans in a world overrun with strange powers and Monsters, they had shouted those words.

For Yosep, that scene became a Curse that kept him alive.

Taehoo knew this as well. After all, it was written clearly in the information Nachal had gathered on the merchandise.

He also knew all the details of how Yosep had come this far.

“I’m sorry.”

A very quiet, whispered apology. Yosep thrust his knife.

At almost the exact same moment—

Taehoo turned back with a smile. Their eyes met.

“Well done.”

He even offered praise to Yosep, who had come to kill him.

“Yosep, just sleep for a bit. Thanks to you, I’ve found a great way forward. I’ll make sure you’re well rewarded later.”

“Wha…? How do you know my name…”

As Taehoo reached out his hand, Yosep lost consciousness in an instant, unable to even finish his question.

Don’t be surprised, I already know the names of all the kids here.

Thunk.

Yosep collapsed forward, ending up leaning against Taehoo.

From behind, it looked as though Yosep, who had been thrusting his knife, had instead been stabbed by something and lost consciousness.

To fulfill that expectation, Taehoo pulled the dagger from Yosep’s hand and lightly slashed the boy’s abdomen.

Fresh blood poured out from the newly opened wound.

‘This should be enough.’

Taehoo immediately stepped back. Yosep’s body, which had been leaning on him, toppled to the ground.

The poison he’d extracted from his ear was tossed into the bushes.

It was the very anesthetic he’d used to put Yosep to sleep.

The night before, Taehoo had prepared by sealing poisons and hallucinogens into every possible hole in his body.

‘Nachal must be watching us somehow. If it looks like Yosep fell to me, he’ll be able to leave this place.’

Nachal probably thought this kind of mission would be unfamiliar to the two of them.

‘But there’s no mission I’m more used to than this.’

That’s why he could create such an unorthodox situation.

Taehoo’s gaze turned to Jin Tae, who had orchestrated the current events.

Complex emotions flickered in Jin Tae’s eyes.

‘So, how do you like the skills of a veteran recruit? Tempted, aren’t you?’

Mocking him inwardly,

“I think I’ve given you more than enough reason to take me with you, don’t you?”

He hammered the wedge into Jin Tae’s internal conflict.

Their eyes locked.

Just what is this kid? Is he an assassin from a rival House who’s caught on to my plans? But if so, would he act so conspicuously?

All sorts of thoughts must have been swirling in Jin Tae’s mind.

But,

‘You have no choice but to take me.’

In his previous life, Taehoo had learned everything there was to know about the Belial House.

Stray dogs were always used and discarded as pawns. Amidst the war between the two Houses, Taehoo had survived by knowing his enemies better than anyone.

One such person he’d investigated was the head of the Belial House, Jin-tae Kim.

That man was greedier for talent than anyone. If he wanted something, he wasn’t afraid to gamble for it.

It was only natural—he was the first generation of his House, and needed people more than anyone.

‘This time, your boldness will be your undoing.’

As Taehoo reached this conclusion, Jin Tae finally spoke.

“Yeah, you’ve given me plenty of reason.”

Jin Tae’s voice dropped, as if covered in a layer of frost. Before the words had even faded, he closed the distance to Taehoo. In a flash, he was behind him.

Bang!

Before Taehoo could even react, his head was seized and he was slammed to the ground.

It wasn’t that he’d missed Jin Tae’s movement. He’d simply chosen not to react.

“But if you want to live, you’d better answer my questions properly from now on.”

Jin Tae said, pinning Taehoo down.

The children, still bound and unable to follow, could only stare with wide, fish-like eyes.

Muncheol looked the most shocked by Taehoo’s sudden move—his face showed genuine surprise, not acting.

Even through the pain, Taehoo found his expression so amusing that he laughed to himself.

Above his head, Jin Tae’s words continued.

“Well, thanks to this kid, you all get to live. Seems like your little squabble isn’t what matters here.”

This was Taehoo’s secondary goal.

To save the remaining children.

Whenever something unexpected happened, Jin Tae’s nature was to focus on resolving the situation rather than simply weeding people out.

Everything was proceeding according to Taehoo’s plan.

‘Picking the most promising kid will turn out to be your fatal mistake.’

With a confident smile, Taehoo relaxed and allowed himself to lose consciousness.

Jin Tae dragged the children away and disappeared from the clearing.

“I swear, unbelievable.”

Nachal revealed himself in the now-empty clearing, letting out a dry chuckle.

His eyes turned to the collapsed Yosep.

“Seems he knew I was watching.”

A kid left wounded but alive—clearly, this was Taehoo’s message to take him away.

Otherwise, there’d be no reason to risk not killing him.

‘I told him not to overdo it, but still…’

Nachal shook his head at Taehoo’s tightrope-walking from the very start.

‘Even so, it’s surprising. I can see why my Lord has taken a liking to him.’

Even though he wasn’t used to this kind of mission, Taehoo had the judgment to seek out information, the sense to use what he learned, and the decisiveness to execute a plan born of that sense.

There was nothing he lacked.

Even though the mission had just begun, Nachal could already see these things.

‘What is he planning to do?’

It was by no means an easy mission.

No matter how gifted he was, the chances of success were close to zero.

After all, the goal wasn’t just to gather information, but to take the enemy commander’s head.

‘Still, it’ll be plenty entertaining to watch.’

Just how far could the young master who’d finally caught his Lord’s eye go?

A smile spread across Nachal’s lips.

‘For now, I’ll help him get this far.’

He pressed on Yosep’s wound to staunch the bleeding and lifted him up.

He immediately sensed something odd.

“What’s this? This kid’s body is well-trained… Something’s up.”

Thinking he’d have to double-check the information he’d passed to Taehoo, Nachal melted into the shadows and vanished.

Taehoo regained consciousness.

A sliver of light shone into the three-pyeong torture chamber through a small barred window behind Jin Tae.

It was so dim, one could barely make out a human silhouette—calling it “lit” was almost a joke.

Inside, Taehoo’s hands were chained up, hanging like clothes on a rack.

A groan escaped his lips, and his head throbbed as if it would split open.

‘How long have I been tied up?’

The pain running down his arms was no joke. Proof that a lot of time had passed.

‘Good thing Muncheol stayed quiet. Seems he’s well trained for this sort of thing.’

Just as he finished assessing the situation—

Ting.

The sound of a coin bouncing echoed in his ears.

Only then did Taehoo lift his stiff neck.

“Awake?”

Jin Tae sat in a half-rotten wooden chair, looking down at Taehoo.

A smile played at his lips, and he flicked a coin as if divining fate.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to punch that face of yours. I barely stopped myself from waking you up right away. Now, time to answer my questions!”

Jin Tae shouted theatrically. The coin landed perfectly in his palm.

“What are you?”

It was a question heavy with many doubts.

If he didn’t answer properly, he could easily lose his head right here.

[Why put yourself through all this trouble? Wouldn’t nothing happen if you just listened to that Suran or whatever her name was?]

Even Ba’al, perhaps growing fond of him, was uncharacteristically worried.

He wasn’t wrong. If Taehoo had only cared about pleasing Nachal, that would have been enough.

[It’s the same as stealing the Holy Relic, isn’t it?]

Right, there were plenty of other ways to catch Jin Tae’s eye.

‘But that wouldn’t be enough to win over the people I want.’

[People? Who do you want to win over?]

Who else? The kids who got caught with me. When he thought that, Ba’al asked what reason he could possibly have for that.

‘The Belial House, Jin-tae Kim. I’m going to take everything he’s built for myself.’

Taehoo intended to seize not just the Holy Relic, but the entire picture Jin Tae was painting.

This was just the first step toward that goal. Taehoo opened his mouth.

“I was a Dog of the Arena.”

Ba’al, realizing Taehoo’s true intent, burst out laughing at the plan, then suddenly sounded dumbfounded.

Jin Tae’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected answer.

“A Dog of the Arena?”

His voice was sharp.

Even though he was facing a child one-on-one, with the kid’s limbs bound, he didn’t let his guard down for a second.

‘So he really does have what it takes to build a House in these times.’

He acted lighthearted, but Jin Tae’s caution was clear.

Still, Taehoo could see the desire burning in his eyes as he looked at him.

It was the look of someone staking their life on something.

Taehoo knew that look better than anyone, and so he recognized it. The man was desperately thirsty for talent.

Indeed, Jin Tae’s heart was brimming with greed.

‘A Dog of the Arena? If that’s true, it explains the trained body and the ease with which he kills. If this is real, it’s a windfall!’

Dog of the Arena and Arena.

A kind of colosseum where children under twenty were brutally trained and forced to fight to the death.

It was the most secretive, primal form of gambling, buying kids from the sewers and making them fight.

The kids trained to fight in the Arena were called Dogs of the Arena.

It was a culture created by perverts who wanted to see the limits of what a human could do with just their body, in a world ruled by strange powers.

The age limit—before twenty—was for the same reason.

That was the typical age at which one received the Sanctuary’s selection.

‘But why would a Dog of the Arena be in a place like that?’

Because it was gambling for VIPs, the Dogs were treated as honored guests when not fighting.

The organizers raised them with all sorts of real combat skills, so of course they took care of them.

They weren’t the sort to be sold off cheaply on the black market.

Jin Tae studied Taehoo as if trying to pick him apart.

‘This kid probably has the perfect answer ready for that too.’

Even in this situation, those steady eyes and that unflinching judgment when he spoke—everything was to Jin Tae’s liking.

He tried to hide his emotions as much as possible as he continued.

“So, a Dog of the Arena… If that’s true, why were you there?”

Jin Tae hoped Taehoo would have a good answer.

And, of course—

“I… Hoo.”

Taehoo already had an answer Jin Tae would like.

For a spy, a silver tongue was perhaps the most important skill.

How long had he been in the Sanctuary? He’d never had a chance to show off this particular talent there.

Well then, time to talk his way out of this.

Taehoo’s mouth slowly opened.