Ch.8Black Velvet 2

It’s bedtime.

In this facility, all cells except the control room go dark after 10 PM.

Our cell is no exception.

I, who has been imprisoned here for 5 years, and Seonyae, who’s been here for 2 years, lie down on our beds.

“Hey, Anna.”

“Yeah.”

“What will you do when you get out of here?”

She occasionally makes these pointless jokes.

The outside world is supposedly already conquered by monsters, so where exactly would we go?

“I don’t know. I’ve never imagined a life outside of here.”

“Me, I’m thinking of opening a bar when I get out.”

“A bar?”

“Yeah. I’ll drink and have fun with people there. We only live once, right?”

Planning to use her one and only life to escape from here.

Could there be anything more futile?

This place is a research and training facility called A2.

It’s a living hell that deceived people by calling itself a shelter, then imprisoned them for human experimentation and training.

I’m the specimen that has survived the longest among all the test subjects.

It’s funny to call myself a specimen, but I’ve been called that for so long that the title feels more natural than my own name.

You might think it’s good that I’ve survived the longest, but it also means I’ve endured more pain than others.

Two weeks after being abducted, an unknown substance was injected into my head, and since that day, I’ve suffered from excruciating headaches every night.

That pain gave me transcendent physical abilities but simultaneously dulled my emotions as a human.

No, my emotions had to become dull.

With my enhanced physical abilities, I had to fight other inmates to the death to verify my performance metrics.

If my emotions hadn’t dulled, I would have surely gone insane.

Because of such murderous training, test subjects died frequently.

The same was true for my cellmates.

My first friend died of shock during a long-distance run.

The second had his throat pierced during gladiatorial combat.

The third exploded while attempting to disarm a bomb.

The constantly changing roommates felt as mundane as classmates transferring schools.

That is, until Seonyae moved in beside me.

Even her name is difficult to pronounce properly.

Seon-ye-e. Seon-eu-e.

She greeted me cheerfully from her first day, not knowing what kind of place this was.

With her neat bob haircut and small frame, I initially paid her no attention.

I thought she would die before I could even learn to pronounce her name correctly.

But she endured.

The first week, the next week, and even two years.

With her face covered in wounds, she would cheerfully greet me every evening.

During meal times, Seonyae always shared a piece of the filthy meat we received as rations.

Being ravenous, I would immediately devour it.

I couldn’t understand why she would give up meat essential for survival.

But whenever she watched me eat, she would always say:

“Just because you look pretty when you eat.”

I’ll probably never understand her.

Soft singing drifts in through the bars.

It’s audio that facility personnel are listening to in the control room.

Their laughter and chatter.

The sound of champagne bottles being opened echoes through our cell.

Some groan in pain while imprisoned.

Others laugh, eat, and drink.

All within the same space.

That’s the most distinctive feature of this facility.

“—.”

Seonyae hums a song.

Her husky voice is charming for a woman.

Usually clumsy, she becomes more serious than anyone when singing.

Even with my dulled emotions, her timbre makes my chest feel tight.

It feels like returning to childhood, before the monsters appeared.

“—!”

Seonyae breaks off her song and coughs violently.

Due to the poorly ventilated cell, she’s been coughing frequently for the past six months.

Soon, as if embarrassed by her coughing, she turns to look at me.

“Anna, have you ever had alcohol?”

“Beer, at least.”

“Champagne?”

“Never.”

Even when I lived in America, I detested crowded parties with champagne.

“Don’t you want to try it?”

“In here, I’d drink anything. Even hard liquor.”

“Hmm, really?”

I close my eyes gently.

I wish she would sing more, but knowing her condition, I keep quiet.

I simply try to sleep for tomorrow’s grueling training.

I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep.

The singing from outside has stopped.

The detention facility has fallen deathly silent.

Soon, the emergency light that should shine through the bars is blocked.

Though I was sleeping, I can clearly sense it.

We’ve been trained to wake instantly even when unconscious.

I snap my eyes open and reach out to kill whoever is looking down at me.

But I quickly halt my hand.

“Haha… surprise.”

A familiar face looks at me.

Seonyae is holding beer and champagne in her hands.

“What… are those? Where did you get them?”

“I stepped out for a bit.”

She points to the bars with the hand holding the beer.

“You. You could pick locks too?”

“We have to get out of here someday, right?”

She sits down gently beside me.

I examine her closely and notice a hairpin in her bangs.

Unlike usual, the pin’s tip is bent.

“Here.”

My roommate hands me a personal cup.

The cup is old, faded, and dirty.

I take the glass in bewilderment and watch as she opens the champagne bottle.

“—.”

Seonyae uses all her strength to open the bottle.

Unable to control her force, the cork explodes out.

The loud popping sound echoes throughout the facility.

“Are you crazy?”

I ask while looking toward the bars.

“It’s fine-. Those guards are all passed out drunk. That’s how I easily swiped this alcohol.”

“You’re really something.”

I shake my head at the spirit emanating from her small body.

Being with her seems to naturally revive my dulled emotions.

Seonyae grins broadly and simultaneously pours champagne and beer into my glass.

It’s a method I’ve never seen before.

“What… is this?”

“I saw it at an inn once. They said this is how it tastes best!”

“Who. Makes alcohol. Like this?”

She starts pouring from the champagne bottle and beer, both several times thicker than her arm.

Her hands tremble worryingly with each pour.

Bubbles and foam boil up in the cup.

Then the champagne bottle slips, spilling cold alcohol onto my thigh.

“Oh no, I’m sorry! What should I do…”

“It’s fine.”

I wipe off the alcohol without any change in expression.

But the sticky shorts and bed now emit the fragrant scent of champagne.

Seonyae wipes my thigh herself and looks up at me with an apologetic expression.

I slowly wipe away the foam on her cheek.

“What should we do… I spilled so much, it’ll be hard to make another one.”

“This is. Enough.”

I bring the sticky cup to my lips.

And take a light sip.

The fizzy champagne and beer wet my tongue.

But both have too much gas, making them uncomfortable and turbulent.

It’s a taste that’s neither here nor there…

“How is it?”

Seonyae, who couldn’t possibly know the taste, looks at me with expectant eyes.

But soon, seeing my expressionless face, she scratches her head.

“Haha… is it not good?”

Her face reddens as if preemptively embarrassed.

“When we get out of here, I’ll make you a proper Black Velvet. With expensive, good ingredients…”

I tuck her protruding bangs behind her ear.

When my hand touches her face, I feel soft peach-like fuzz and warm blood.

“I like it.”

“Huh…?”

Her pupils tremble slowly at my words.

“It tastes. Like you.”

“Like me?”

“A complete mess.”

“What does that mean…”

She pulls her knees together with a disappointed expression.

But that’s all I can say to Seonyae.

I couldn’t think of any greater compliment.

A familiar Korean song plays from outside.

The paused audio is playing on repeat again.

I hum along with the song.

Seonyae seems surprised to hear me singing for the first time in two years.

Soon she rests her face on my shoulder and sings along.

I like that child’s voice.

I like the alcohol she poured for me.

Even though it’s sticky and a complete mess.

Seonyae was the only splash of color in this bleak gray world.

The only one.

“—!”

I abruptly ended the skill due to sudden pain.

Something had started twisting my neck.

My whole body boils as if about to regurgitate the food I just ate.

“Why… are you zoning out by yourself?”

Anna’s once expressionless face glares at me, now completely distorted.

I can hardly believe it’s the same face that remained calm even when killing people.

“I didn’t do anything…”

My eyes redden.

It’s not tears—my eyeballs feel like they’re about to pop out.

Grabbing her arm, I shouted.

Only then did Anna slowly lower her hand.

I collapsed weakly to the floor, coughing violently.

Just how strong is she…

“Don’t try to be clever.”

Anna’s pronunciation has somehow become more precise.

She plops back down in her chair.

I staggered to my feet.

Did this woman instinctively notice that I was reading her memories?

Ranker 09 also fainted while having his memories read… how did she wake up first?

“…”

I forced myself to take a deep breath.

Right… that’s not what’s important now.

At least I’ve identified this girl’s happiest memory.

Her memories with a fellow inmate.

First, I need to recreate that moment.

I bend my knees to take out a champagne bottle from the wine cellar.

The cheapest one.

Then I grab a dark beer from the refrigerator.

The beer and champagne sit prominently on the bar table.

Something changes in Anna’s face.

Her firm lips part slightly.

“Let’s begin.”

I place a plastic cup in the center of the table.

Then I open the rich, cool dark beer.

I twist the champagne cork and open it forcefully.

With a popping sound, the cork shoots into the air.

Fizzy foam flows down the bottle.

I boldly tilt both drinks simultaneously against the cup.

Black and golden colors beautifully cross as they pour into the cup.

The Redeath employees watch tensely.

One of them mutters.

“If you pour alcohol like that, it will definitely overflow.”

They focus on my trembling arms with anxious expressions.

“—!”

Soon, foam begins to overflow from the glass.

The spilling alcohol slides across the table, reaching Anna’s hand.

“Are you insane? What are you doing!”

One employee jumps up and shouts.

“Are you trying to kill us all? Can’t you even pour that properly!”

Another employee clutches his head and wails.

The reaction from the father and daughter customers wasn’t much different.

The father hides his daughter’s face against his chest and quietly closes his eyes.

“…”

Yet I don’t stop, even as the alcohol overflows.

I just keep pouring until every drop drips onto her body.

Anna stares blankly at the scene.

Soon, not a single drop of alcohol remains in the bottles.