episode_0007

I gaze at the shattered glass.

Sharp glass shards lie lifelessly scattered on the concrete floor.

Kneeling down, I start clearing the pieces as Joksa watches me silently.

“Your actions are sluggish. My employees are waiting.”

He touches my messy hair forcibly, making me meet his eyes.

I must get up somehow, but my legs refuse to cooperate.

Encountering a psycho right after waking up.

It seems like fate is trying to punish me properly.

“When will we receive our orders!”

Joksa’s employees kick chairs and shout.

They place their dirty shoes on the table.

The table, cleaned of grease with effort, gets dirty again with their dust and cigarette ash.

Interference with business has officially begun.

If the boss gives up the shop in the end, they’ll probably buy it back cheaply.

In this world without government, there is no one to stop them.

Miserable.

Is this the reality of possession?

I would rather be longing for my body before possession.

Back then, Nuna would have stepped up and subdued these guys.

And she would have told me.

Stand tall, there’s nothing wrong with you, why bow first?

But Nuna.

Reality doesn’t care about who’s right or wrong.

Cigarette ash falls on my knees.

This damn world is all about power.

“Ah…”

Lost in thought, I cut my finger on a glass shard.

Fresh blood mixes with tonic, flowing down my finger.

I suck on my finger.

The bitter blood coats my tongue.

Its taste quickly spreads through my body, making me hypersensitive.

“—.”

The bell at the shop entrance rings.

Thanks to that sound, I could barely escape the intense contemplation.

Everyone, including me, focuses their gaze on the black silhouette at the front door.

Normally in such a grim atmosphere, one would seek another shop, but the owner of the footsteps casually steps into the hall as if familiar with such situations.

The walker’s sound fills the shop.

I slowly raise my head following that sound.

Under the backlight, a silver-haired woman with her hair styled to one side catches my eye.

Her shining hair indicates she is likely mixed-race or a foreigner.

Surely, in past eras, she would have been popular on campus with such a pretty face.

However, her dark jacket and pants contrast with her silver hair, giving off a cold impression.

“…”

“Hunter Killer?”

Joksa stares at the woman, turning his chair to face her.

Unlike earlier, he now wears a serious expression, perhaps thinking she shares a similar profession.

But the woman’s gray eyes are fixed not on him but on me.

More precisely, on my bleeding finger.

Feeling a chill from her gaze, I turn my head away.

Why is she suddenly staring at me…

Her arrival quiets the somewhat noisy shop.

Even the female guest who was about to flee from Joksa’s gang stops abruptly to observe the situation.

“Order. Take.”

Finally, her lips part.

The woman speaks to me in broken Korean, word by word.

“Uh… well, that…”

I glance at Joksa sitting next to me for cues.

In response, he twirls the ring on his finger and answers on behalf of me.

“It’s complicated. I’m renting this place today.”

“All of it?”

“Yeah, so later…”

I don’t hear the rest of Joksa’s words.

Soon enough, I understand the reason.

In just a moment.

The woman draws a long sword from her waist.

And as it is drawn, a red crack appears on Joksa’s neck.

In an instant, like a discarded glass, Joksa’s head falls to the ground.

Black blood sprays across my face like mist.

His face only stops when it reaches my toes.

Joksa, who swiftly dealt with the Hunter group, lost his life just like that.

The villain’s anticlimactic death leaves me feeling oddly unsettled.

“M-Mr. Manager..!”

His employees seated at the table jump up in shock.

The assassin’s body remains seated on the chair.

The woman slowly pushes the chair with her foot, causing it to topple over before she takes a seat.

“Now. I’ll be borrowing this.”

The employees gather around her, each holding a sword or dagger.

However, they hesitate to make a move.

Unlike what one might see in movies, they don’t rush in for revenge against their boss.

I couldn’t tell if it was because they weren’t as foolish as they seemed, or if they were overwhelmed by fear that stifled their anger.

They simply restrain her and slowly collect the assassin’s body.

Seemingly satisfied with the cleanup, she casually rests her chin on the table.

Her eyes, clouded with a pale white hue, stare intently at me.

“What can I get you, guest…”

With trembling legs, I manage to ask her.

The woman gazes blankly at the display case.

“From here. The most delicious one.”

Why do people here order like this?

Their tone is robotic, yet their orders are abstract.

One asks for ‘the usual,’ while another requests ‘the most delicious one’…

I pretend to ponder over the drinks selection.

At first glance, she appears to be in her early to mid-twenties.

Normally, I’d offer something sweet that girls her age enjoy.

But after witnessing her knife skills, she doesn’t fit the typical girl category.

Her taste in alcohol could be unpredictable.

“No thoughts of running away. Not allowed.”

Her mechanically expressionless face breaks into a sly smile.

In a normal setting, such a smile would evoke tender beauty.

But with the crimson stains under her eyes, the narrative changes.

This could really end in death…

I barely nod my head and turn away.

As my mind races, Jiwook gestures from the kitchen.

“Why call me… I’m about to lose it…!”

Jiwook’s eyes flicker.

His lips tremble uncontrollably, unlike when he faced the assassin.

“Let’s escape.”

“What?”

“That person isn’t Anna…”

“And who is that exactly?”

“A contract killer. A psycho who kills for pleasure, just working temporarily. If anyone crosses her, she’ll kill them, no matter who they are!”

“If we don’t provoke her, can’t we survive? By serving the right drink that suits her taste…”

Jiwook interrupts me and shakes his head frantically.

“She asked for the ‘most delicious one’ in the shop, right?”

“Yes. How do we…”

“No place Anna has made that request has survived.”

Suddenly, the image of the deceased assassin comes to mind.

Just like the glasses he abandoned, his head, maybe we’re all destined to die.

“Get ready.”

Jiwook throws off his apron, grabs his wallet and bag.

What should I do…

I glance briefly at the hall visible from the kitchen.

A couple holding hands, a trembling elderly lady, a young girl enjoying bread, and a father looking at them with warm eyes.

Perhaps moments ago, they were experiencing the happiest moments of their lives.

Should we run away leaving them behind?

Guilt washes over me.

Like the time I fled, leaving someone I loved.

The wound on my side where the dagger struck tingles.

Running away will only lead to death, I learned that through pain.

That pain instills a strange courage within me.

Rather than fleeing and facing certain death, I want to confront it properly.

“Senior, I’ll handle this. I’ll bring a drink that satisfies somehow.”

“What did you say?”

“No matter how we try to escape, we’ll be caught and killed soon anyway.”

“Isn’t it better than giving up?”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan in mind. Trying is better than giving up, right?”

He looks at me with a puzzled expression.

In response, I roll up my sleeves.

“Thank you for the meal earlier.”

Jiwook stares blankly at my back.

“Now watch what your senior’s saved hand can accomplish.”

Leaving those words behind, I briskly stepped towards the counter.

As soon as I walked out, Anna’s face came into view.

Her eyes, like my sister’s at the moment of her death, were clouded with a murky gray.

Thanks to that, I have no idea what she’s thinking.

But even for someone like her, there must be a way for me to understand her true feelings.

“Um…”

Anna stares at me, tracing her finger on the tired table.

“Could you reach out your hand…?”

“Why do you need my hand?”

At my sudden proposal, the staff at the counter, as well as the two ladies, all turn to look at me.

“Well…”

What should I do?

If even touching hands could bring back memories of the happiest moments, should I ask for a handshake like a fan would?

No, where would a fan be in a mercenary?

Think.

There must be a suitable excuse…

“Why?”

Anna leans her face towards me.

I feel like I’m being sucked into her hazy eyes.

“I’ll show you… that hand gesture!”

It was a word that pierced through my blocked throat.

I seem surprised by my own words, as a hiccup escapes me.

Jiwuk, who was in the kitchen, grabs his forehead and sinks down.

The faces of the other customers also turn pale.

I messed up.

I sound like a complete idiot even to myself.

What hand gesture in this situation?

I was too hasty and blurted out the first thing that came to mind!

“Is this some kind of Korean service?”

Surprisingly, Anna puts her hand on her mouth and gets lost in thought.

Then, as if something occurred to her, she slowly extends one hand towards me.

“Do it. I’m curious about Korean magic.”

“Uh… Thank you.”

I hesitated for a moment, facing her outstretched hand.

I never expected it to be resolved so easily.

But this is just passing through the first gate.

The real challenge starts now.

I have to figure out what lies within those cloudy eyes.

Hastily, I grasp her hand.

Unlike the smooth back of her hand, her palm is rough.

Like my sister, who was always devoted to swordsmanship.

Even pursuing the same power, people can become so different.

“Angelic Hand.”

Let’s peek.

At the moment when she was happiest.

Surely, even to a crazy murderer like her, there must have been a moment of happiness.