Substitute-Chapter 119

Jiwon confirmed with his own hands that the iron gate was locked, then split from Choi Minjae.

He meant to move fast while the whipping phase was underway—while the speakers were blaring. His head was a mess, but he couldn’t just stall. He had nothing to squeeze out of Choi Minjae anyway, so there was nothing to do but withdraw.

On his way pushing through the brush, he didn’t run into the fourth member who was supposed to be on Son Geonwoo’s team. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

When he met Nam Kyuwon again, they exchanged a brief look and Jiwon caught his breath.

He kept thinking of what Choi Minjae had said, and it shredded his focus.

“Do nothing.”

“Know nothing.”

Fuck. Is this a joke?

Just thinking about Detective Kim Gyeongseok made his solar plexus feel clogged, like indigestion.

He shook his head quickly.

This wasn’t the time.

First he had to decide whether to meet Son Geonwoo right now or not. Best practice was not meeting that bastard, but he couldn’t dismiss it, because Son might’ve seen Park Geonwoo.

Hoo—. The sky above looked black, like rain could dump any second.

It was already much darker than a moment ago. In ten minutes it would be pitch. But if he used the flashlight, that was basically broadcasting his location.

Jiwon steadied himself again.

The execution of the third runner was wrapping up. No matter how wide the garden was, there was no guarantee the seekers would stay confined to it. For all he knew, they were already gearing up to come toward the wire fence. If he was unlucky, he could get caught by a seeker while moving.

He zigzagged again to look for Son Geonwoo, who had to be hiding somewhere.

Even though he’d already been this way once, he reached the iron gate faster than expected, but he still failed to meet Son.

The fourth member said he was on Son Geonwoo’s team too, right?

If so, maybe they’d promised Nam Kyuwon and Choi Minjae they’d hide together, then the two who were on the same team split off to move separately?

That was the only way to explain why those two were absent.

It left a bad taste. If the guy on Son’s team was Number 9, that was very bad news for Jiwon. If the two of them were hunting Jiwon instead of playing the game, he was fucked.

After the execution ended, the Emcee’s noisy patter was followed by a whistle.

Hide-and-Seek began again.

Which meant: the speakers went silent.

Jiwon ducked into the grass near the iron gate and took one last breath.

Sweat poured down like rain. He roughly wiped his palms across his face, then crept close to the wire and parted the grass.

No seekers had come this far yet, apparently.

He counted himself lucky the garden was huge, fixed his eyes on the footpath on the far side, then sprang up and ran.

He squeezed out every last drop of strength, rounded the curve, and tore down the straight. He nearly stumbled and went down several times. As soon as he reached the gap, he dove in headlong.

Snagged by the branches and grass that ringed the gap, he basically face-planted. Without even fixing his posture he crawled forward blindly and stuffed the opened gap back in. Then he tucked down on his knees and pressed his upper body to the ground.

Hii—, hii—.

Every inhale and exhale dragged a sound up his throat that was close to a moan.

Bile surged up and he drooled strings of spit.

He felt like puking. No—he wanted to puke.

Thankfully, once his breathing settled, the nausea ebbed.

Wiping his tears, Jiwon sprawled out on the ground. His chest kept heaving nonstop with his ragged breaths.

The thunderclouds had dropped right over his head.

The still air was thick with humidity.

Plop. Plop.

Big drops thudded onto his face.

It started to rain.

Lucky, he thought.

Because the forest got loud in an instant with the sound of rain. Which meant he no longer had to cower for the speakers’ silence. Sure, the downside was he couldn’t hear the seekers either, but for Jiwon—who wasn’t trying to play the game at all but to bolt from here—this was a huge stroke of luck.

Up we go—. He was about to stand, feeling almost cheerful, when a sudden kick smashed into his side.

Before he even felt the pain, a hand seized his hair.

He didn’t need to check who.

It was Son Geonwoo.

So that’s where he’d been hiding—right in the gap.

Looked like he’d been watching them move. Or maybe he’d been searching for another hiding place and drifted in here.

Either way, the conclusion was the same.

Son Geonwoo had been waiting for him.

“Cocksucker. You’re a pro when it comes to running.”

Son’s grip tightened. If it came to it, he looked ready to rip Jiwon’s scalp right off.

It was a surprise attack, but Jiwon wasn’t about to just take it. Back when Park Geonwoo grabbed his hair he’d been drugged to the gills, but this was different. And because he was facing Son, Jiwon could see both of Son’s feet.

Jiwon dove straight at Son’s ankles.

It hurt so much it felt like every strand of hair had been torn out, but he managed to topple Son.

As Son lost his balance and fell back, he reflexively let go of Jiwon.

Jiwon didn’t miss the beat.

He sprang up and slammed his combat boot into Son’s face.

With a thud, blood spattered, but he didn’t care. He kicked Son’s face as fast and as clean as he could. In his usual condition his kicks had enough power to threaten a man’s life; right now he was barely holding himself together, so there was no need to modulate. He just worked his legs with everything he had.

This time, Son wasn’t so easy. Sensing Jiwon’s kicks slowing, he flung out a hand, managed to grab Jiwon’s foot, and yanked it hard toward his chest. Jiwon nearly went down and only just saved his balance, straining to wrench his foot free of Son’s grip.

In the end, Son used the opening and got to his feet.

The two men faced each other ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) and glared.

They panted hard and shot each other a vicious stare.

Jiwon really thought he might die. His vision spun.

He hadn’t eaten a thing, so he was already wrecked. Then he’d sprinted here like his life depended on it, and on top of that he’d suddenly poured out a huge burst of force to put Son down, so he didn’t even have strength left to stand.

His legs shook. Spit leaked from his mouth.

Even so, Jiwon had no intention of losing to Son.

He held out, stubborn as hell, and stood off against him.

Son, his brow split from that combat-boot kick, kept wiping the blood away and watched for an opening.

The guy who’d eaten properly was panting, sure, but he looked like he still had plenty of strength.

One slip and he’d get taken.

On high alert, Jiwon racked his fucking brain for a way to break this.

The light rain turned steadily heavier.

Shhhhhhh.

The cool roar drenched the dry ground and the leaves.

Rain wet Jiwon’s face too.

He needed the clarity, but his sight kept blurring.

He clenched his teeth. It wasn’t enough.

Son, who recovered his condition faster than Jiwon, suddenly bellowed—“Uaaah!”—and charged him.

Jiwon had no time to dodge. He was slammed to the ground and rolled with Son.

Son straddled him and fired punches without mercy.

Thud. Stars flashed.

Thud, thud. His head snapped around.

Thud, thud, thud. Red blood splattered everywhere.

In a blink his lip split and the flesh of his brow tore.

Did he break a tooth? No, maybe his nosebone was crooked. From the numb ache in his jaw, his jaw might’ve gone out.

He suddenly laughed.

The whole sequence—coming in here to avenge his dead father and brother, then spending his time fucking like crazy, then belatedly deciding to escape—flashed through his head like a panorama.

None of it made sense.

Was he on drugs or something. Or had he taken a bullet to the head.

Why did he make such a ridiculous decision?

With what confidence did he come in here to take revenge?

Trusting who?

Does Detective Kim Gyeongseok even exist?

Thud, thud. He didn’t even feel the pain.

The face taking the hits didn’t feel like his.

Escape, my ass. Fuck.

He snorted little laughs.

“You demon bastard! Why??? Why me?? Why is it me! Is this fun? You having fun??”

Son spewed a stream of nonsense as he swung.

“I knew you were a ghost from the start. Fuck. Knew it the second my eyes landed on you! Die, fucker! Die!!!”

The violence ratcheted up.

In the middle of it, Son’s words started to sound plausible to Jiwon.

Yeah. Maybe I am a ghost.

Maybe the real Yoon Jiwon died the day his genitals were cut off, and he turned into a ghost out of spite and drifted the nine heavens until he fell into this absurd world. His cock was cut off, yet he became a sex-crazed incubus.

The phrase “sex-crazed demon” made him laugh again.

Jiwon felt like his situation—on the brink of death two days in a row—was unreal.

But unlike with Park Geonwoo, there wouldn’t be any salvation this time.

He sensed death.

His consciousness dimmed fast.

With death right at his nose, the face that floated up wasn’t his parents’ or his brother’s but Number 3’s.

That fine face and fine body and fine cock—the feel of it filling him not long ago was vivid.

The best gift, he thought, and for the first time in a while he offered thanks to God.

And he pouted at the same time.

We were supposed to meet again outside, and now I’m going to die here.

So pointless.

Khhk. He coughed blood.