[Chapter 21]
The woman, her face flushed, abruptly stood up in the middle of the meal. Just a small provocation made her cheeks turn red, and a little anger stiffened her like a frightened deer.
Should I say she was simple? She was an easy woman to read.
What could have made her like that?
“Deon.”
It was then.
“Let’s have some fun today. Is it because you’re a divine beast? You seem fine going without for days.”
It was the companion who always hung around Deon.
“Fun.”
Deon muttered quietly, yet his gaze remained fixed on the woman disappearing through the door.
So it’s today.
“Is it today?” Deon asked. The man licked his lower lip and chuckled.
“Yeah. If you mean that woman, then yeah—it’s today. You’re coming too, right?”
“Deon, I have my whistle now, and I have colleagues among the guards. If you want to leave, go alone. I’m staying here.”
Remembering what she had said, Deon let out an incredulous laugh. Colleagues, huh? Whatever she thought that word meant, in Deon’s mind, colleagues didn’t make lewd jokes or use each other’s bodies.
“I want to be recognized as one of this group.”
If what she meant by colleague was someone who understood her… Deon’s gaze shifted.
No. If that were true, Deon would rip apart anyone who tried to take her. No matter the method, he couldn’t bear to see anyone else touch her. And if she ever looked pleased in someone else’s arms, he wouldn’t stand for it.
But if it wasn’t like that…
“If that’s not it, then what should I do?”
Recalling her innocent question, asked like a bright child, Deon clenched his jaw slightly.
“Did they say it starts at 11 p.m.?”
“That’s what they said…”
“I’ll go first.”
He’d wanted to make her frightened, to see her face as she shrank back from other men after rejecting him earlier—but clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.
“What? Deon, Rob’s always first. You gotta go second. Just go second!”
Ignoring him, Deon walked out of the cafeteria.
“…That bastard.”
Storming out of the cafeteria, I quickened my pace. After hurriedly locking the door behind me, I slumped against it and slid to the floor.
My ears and cheeks still burned red. I really had tried my best. I was fighting hard to survive in this world.
Why don’t you try acting cute with me instead?
“…Ha.”
A bitter laugh escaped me at the memory of that horrifying smirk. He was a man who knew exactly how to break people. If even that was something he learned from Lemoni, I wouldn’t know what to say. But frankly speaking, I wasn’t Lemoni. I had no obligation to endure such humiliation from him.
I did pity him a little—because I, as a reader, understood his emotions somewhat. When Deon saved me from Ian, I even thought we might get along.
How naive.
If I was going to go that far, I might as well really become Lemoni.
The spacious room felt especially silent. I moved to the bed, pulled the blanket up to my chin, and sighed. No. I could use Deon to survive, but I didn’t want to go beyond a certain line.
As a reader, I already knew how deeply Deon had been hurt by Lemoni. This was a matter of conscience.
With nothing to do, I sat curled up in bed. Then came a knock from outside.
“…Rob?”
“Lemoni, I knew you weren’t asleep.”
When I opened the door, a large, middle-aged man looked down at me with a wide grin. His short blond hair looked like dried grass, and despite his muscular frame, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes revealed his age.
He wore the loungewear typical of the guards. The thin outfit exposed more skin, making him look older than usual.
“Mind if I come in?”
“…I don’t mind, but what brings you here?”
Glancing at the messy blanket, I nodded and let him in. It was 9 p.m.—not quite bedtime, but a little late for visitors.
“I just came to talk before it gets too late. What you said in the cafeteria bothered me—I couldn’t focus.”
Ah. So it did bother him. I thought he’d just laughed it off.
Rob dragged a chair near the tea table to the bed and sat down, resting one arm on the backrest and gesturing toward the bed.
“Have a seat. I was curious.”
We weren’t exactly on friendly terms.
But refusing felt awkward, and I wondered if we were about to have a real, deep conversation—so I sat down quietly.
Of course, not comfortably—just barely on the edge of the bed.
“If you mean what was said at the cafeteria… were you referring to my work?”
“That’s right.”
I smiled awkwardly.
“I thought you were brushing it off because you didn’t really answer.”
“Ahh, the others around us were too rowdy.”
He frowned slightly as if asking for understanding and lit a cigar. Tap, tap. Ash from his thick fingers scattered onto the beige carpet.
“When this prison first fell into chaos, I thought every guard in Drace Prison would die. Communications with both the Western and Southern Empires were cut, and the inspection unit that comes every six months wasn’t due anytime soon.”
His voice, drenched in cigar smoke, was calm and even. His vacant gaze reflected deep thoughts.
“But that changed when I faced the prisoners. When a fellow Level-5 guard turned into one of them, I realized this wasn’t just a fight between guards and inmates anymore. Do you know what I felt then?”
When I stayed silent, unable to answer easily, Rob continued as if expecting it.
“I realized this place had become true lawlessness. Drace had always been notorious, but at least there were laws, rules, a hierarchy. Some suffered, but others thrived.”
The ash dropped again.
“I believed the rise of monsters destroyed everything.”
That was when I realized: Rob was smoking in front of me to assert dominance—to establish hierarchy.
“So I rebuilt it. A place with rules, a hierarchy. A society where some suffer, but others live well. That way, fear is directed at power, not monsters. And if you had to choose, wouldn’t that be better?”
I wasn’t sure.
Would anyone think power was better, if they saw Deon? His face came to mind, making it hard to choose either.
“Coming here, I do feel afraid to go below the fourth floor.”
“Of course you do.”
Rob agreed and ground out his finished cigar with his heel.
“Lemoni, do you know when a person feels they’re living as a human?”
“Hmm…”
I hesitated, a little flustered.
This was the first normal conversation I’d had as Lemoni. It wasn’t bad, but I didn’t know how this connected to what happened earlier in the cafeteria.
“When they have food and a safe place to sleep…?”
“That’s true for animals too. For a person to live like a person, they need more. Like…”
I was about to nod, thinking he’d disagree, but then—
“Proper entertainment.”
Thud. Something dropped onto my lap. I looked down—and saw his hairy hand touching my uniform pants.
“You have your role, Lemoni. Something only you can do.”
The man who was chopping onions earlier had said something similar, and it made my face go stiff. Rob, noticing the change, leaned in as if soothing a child.
“No one here will hurt you. We’ll treat you with care, so don’t worry.”
“…Treat me with care?”
My hand trembled. What was so humane about this?
“What’s so humane…”
“The men here go to the fourth floor and risk their lives fighting. But you? You don’t cook or clean. Just… five men a day. That’s fair, isn’t it?”
I stopped breathing.
My heart froze, and I began to tremble uncontrollably. Taking a deep breath, I gathered every bit of strength to raise my eyes.
“…What if I want to risk my life too? What if I’d rather cook or clean?”
Sigh.
Rob sighed, sounding exasperated. He rubbed his temples and forced a smile.
“A girl like you would only bring trouble.”
But his hand still gently caressed my knee.
“Honestly, let’s say you joined the cooking team. There are 51 men here, and only you and Rose are women. Don’t you think that would stir something up? What if someone gets the wrong idea? There might be pressure, conflict, even jealousy among the men…”
“The one getting the wrong idea…”
My voice cracked from shock.
“Isn’t it you, Rob?”
His gentle navy eyes twitched like he’d been struck.
But I had to say it. Why?
First.
“Don’t touch me, old man.”
Better to die than live like this. I had congenital insensitivity to pain, anyway.
Second.
“One of my classmates once said beasts are better than humans… and they were right.”
I shot up from the bed, which felt more like a prison, and blew my whistle hard.
“Deon! Come grab this guy by the collar—now!”
After shouting, I tried to flee with a hardened expression—but a rough hand grabbed my wrist, yanking me into Rob’s arms. As I struggled and tried to bite his wrist—
“Hahaha… HAHAHAHA!”
Laughter exploded above my head—mad, twisted laughter.
“You still think that mutt of yours listens to commands?”
With that bizarre, blood-chilling question, Rob’s grip tightened, and madness burned in his eyes.
