I don't even know
whether I'm good or evil

I left.

When I first heard those words, I was surprised to feel a deep weariness instead of dread, like a bone-deep ache that throbbed every time my heart beat. My body sighed, like an instinctive reaction to the news, and I felt the need to get out of the room before I was crushed by yet another avalanche and yet another earthquake before I was swallowed whole.

So I left.

I got up, my hand slipping out of his so smoothly that it felt like he had never even held it, and moved to the door. Taeyong didn't move to stop me—he must have known I was going to react this way, or he would've tried to obstruct my path. Instead, he watched as I left, not moving a muscle, with a gaze so heavy that it felt like a blanket draped over my shoulders.

There was much I needed to know, but I didn't feel like I had the space for any of it. My heart felt full of knowledge and brain empty with ignorance, but whatever was good for me, I didn't know. I felt numb, like I had fallen into a pond of icy water and the tips of my body were beginning to freeze over, the blood rushing to my core. As if I was beginning to get used to the feeling.

Even as I turned away, it seemed that instead of walking away from something, I was walking towards something else. Doom, probably. I was always walking towards someone's doom.

"There you are." I glanced away from the floor as I heard footsteps approach, seeing Ten reach me at the bottom of the stairs. He looked anxious but hesitant, with his hair standing at the ends as if he had run his fingers through it over and over. He came up to me, keeping a good distance of a few feet. "Jungkook wants you at the table."

My hand was colder than the knob of the stairwell's railing as it rested over it. There was only one table in the safe house, and it was always covered with maps and knives and magazines—not the reading kind. "Can't I skip this one?"

"I don't think so." Ten pursed his lips. He seemed like the only one who had barely changed ever since my father had been killed, but that was maybe because he had already been intimidated by me before the incident happened. "He got someone to talk back at the casino, and he wants you immediately, though I don't know if it's because you have something to tell him or if he has something to tell you."

'Getting someone to talk' was pretty widely-known code for torture. "I really don't feel like it, Ten."

"I think we might be moving onto the Lee territory."

I froze. Something dormant had jerked awake inside of me, and I was struggling to contain it. "Ten minutes."

He nodded, already beginning to turn around, as if he had known I would agree even before I did. "Ten minutes should be enough."

I followed him into the empty room on the floor below, clenching and unclenching my fists as I tried to focus on appearing normal. After the incident at the casino, I don't think anyone would have liked to see the vengeful spirit rise again, and I felt that I had succeeded in tricking them into believing that it was gone, at least for now.

I would have, in all probability. I would have killed so many already if someone hadn't been there to calm me down every time I went berserk.

The table was empty this time, except for a large, dog-eared map of the city spread over the tabletop. Everyone except Jun and Taeyong were there, gathered around the table, talking in low tones. Vernon looked up as I entered, worried eyes trailing my path as I headed to the table, but I didn't dare raise my eyes to meet his.

"Change of tactics?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could, though it sounded too calm to be normal. There was no way anyone could be calm after receiving news like this.

Day after day I had thirsted for a chance to actually spill blood with the hunting knife—never before had I doubted my ability to use it, but now I did. It wasn't the skill that was the problem, because I was good enough at handling it, but I wondered if I would ever be able to kill with it. Ever since I had made the promise not to kill—a promise that was perhaps made to be broken—that was the only thought in my mind. Would I lift the knife, if given the chance? Would I be able to?

"You know," Lucas spoke up, a grin playing on his full lips as he leaned over the table. "Offence is the best defense."

"Beg to disagree," Jaebum muttered, eyes narrowing as they landed on me. "You took your sweet time."

My gaze didn't waver. Before I could open my mouth to snap back, Jungkook spoke up. "All right," he said, rolling up the map and nodding once. "Vernon, Jennie, you'll remain here. The rest of you, clear out."

Jaebum frowned when he heard this, but if he wanted to say something, he didn't. Everyone left the room. Yeeun's shoulder brushed against mine as she passed me, her eyes probing silently, but I couldn't understand what she was trying to say.

"Y/N," Jungkook started as soon as he saw that his orders had been carried out, gaze settling on me. I felt the need to step back and shiver, but held my ground, taking a deep breath as I prepared myself for whatever was about to come. "The Lee heir has been sending killers after you for years, and your father is dead because of him—" against my wishes, I winced— "and now even Lee Taemin and the bikers are after you."

He paused for dramatic effect, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Vernon watching him with hunters' eyes. "But you've been safe for the past three years despite it being a window of opportunity, and there hasn't been one direct attack on you until a few weeks ago, which you escaped from alive," Jungkook continued, now looking into my eyes with an unnervingly calm gaze. "Almost every significant crime family in Korea knows about you, you have the best of contract killers on your tail—it seems like the Lee is trying his best to kill you.

"And yet, when he finally found you, he left you without a scratch, not even taking you back to his lair," he spoke as he leaned against the edge of the table, tilting his head ever so slightly. "So, Hwang, tell me something," he said, "why are you still alive?"

Jennie was standing at one corner of the table, hands fisted at her sides, looking like she wanted to pull him away but was just as curious to know the answer. Vernon's jaw was working, a muscle tensing and relaxing in his throat like a pulse, but didn't say anything.

"Perhaps you didn't understand my question," Jungkook said, straightening. "When the heir found you, when he killed your father, what did he say to you? What did he want you to do?"

"I don't think the heir is the kind of man who'd reveal his plans to someone who would willingly spill in front of his enemies," I said dryly. "I don't think any leader would do that. Would you, Jungkook?"

My tone was taunting, but if he noticed, he didn't show it. "You're alive because that's the way he wants you," he said. His voice didn't hold any sort of challenge, saying everything as simply and unemotionally as possible, but it still rubbed me the wrong way. Like talking to someone artificial, knowing that all they wanted from you was something for themselves. "If there's a reason why he's letting you stay alive, then he wouldn't keep it to himself. I hardly think he's keeping you safe because he cares."

"You never know," I said. I might even have believed myself if I hadn't known the truth. There was no solid reason for me to hide the truth from Jungkook, except for the fact that I didn't want to give him even more of a reason to view me as a gateway to power. And, of course, that I just didn't trust him.

Jungkook raised his eyebrows, eyes flashing. "Or maybe he wants another toy, and scars wouldn't be very becoming on you."

"Jungkook." This was Vernon, with a menacing edge in his voice. I think Jungkook was as surprised as I was, because he glanced at Vernon for a split second, a gesture that was so reflexive and unplanned that it didn't seem like him.

The authority in Vernon's voice was surprising, mostly because I had never seen him go against Jungkook, or even dare show if he was upset by the manager's many decisions. I stared at him, wondering when the shift had happened—was it the night we spent together? It could be the empathy he felt for Jun when Jungkook told him Chaeyoung was expendable, having lost a sister himself. Suddenly, his anger made a lot more sense. Maybe I wasn't the only one who got on his nerves.

"You seem ill, Vernon," Jungkook said calmly, and I noticed that the skin around Jennie's mouth had gone white. The tension in the room was peaking, and for the first time, I felt like I was only a spectator. The three were wrapped in a bubble that was fast filling with air, about to burst, and I was going to be the one suffering from the impact.

I glanced from Jennie to Jungkook to Vernon, and realized there was more that had happened when I wasn't looking. Power play, everywhere, even within enemy lines.

"No, Jungkook," Vernon said just as calmly, and my breath caught in my throat as I noticed the similarity between them. It was like watching someone perform in front of a mirror; they both had the same mask on, the same eerie calmness, though Vernon's voice was smoother, his words more convincing, knowing when to speak and when to stop. Somewhere, somehow, Jungkook had fallen short where Vernon had succeeded. "I'm perfectly fine. Are you?"

The corner of Jennie's lips twitched, and she pursed them. The two men faced each other silently, not moving for a long moment, before Jungkook turned his attention back to me. "What did the heir say to you?"

When I glanced at Vernon, there was a look of dark satisfaction in his tawny eyes. "Nothing of interest," I replied slowly, looking back at Jungkook.

He was staring right back. "Would I be correct to assume he wanted your influence?"

I froze in surprise, then quickly tried to mask my surprise, but it was too late. Suddenly, I realized what was happening. Jungkook already knew the answer, he'd just wanted to hear it from me.

"Thank you for your cooperation," he said, almost sweetly, but there was poison hidden beneath, like honeysuckle vines. He pushed off the table and walked towards the door.

I thought he would move past me, but he stopped when he reached me, bringing an arm up around my waist. Unable to move, I stood there, paralyzed with fury and terror as I felt the ghost of his touch snake up my back until his hand rested on my upper back, on a spot right next to my spine. It was positioned so that I felt like my heart was beating through my bones and muscles, sending a pulse right through his hand.

Get away, I wanted to say, but the words were trapped in my throat. His touch sent a wave of nausea through me, but I didn't move, even as he leaned in, his breath just brushing my ear. Sickening, disgusting, vile, but I couldn't seem to move at all.

"A word of advice," he whispered. "The next time you stab someone in the back, do it here." He tapped the spot and looked at me with eyes like smoldering coal, so close that my heartbeat spiked. "It'll go through their heart."

──────

fun fact: it's actually easier to stab someone in the back (in the literal sense) because your chest is protected by chestplates. also you'll bleed out much quicker if stabbed in the back lol.

there's actually an old torture method called Angel's Wings, where the person's back is slit down on both sides of the back of their rib cage and the lungs are pulled out slowly as they bleed to death... tmi sorry

and that's it for today's lecture about Medieval Torture Methods with Manx, stay tuned for the next one!

love,
Manx.