The Bad Life – Chapter 4.1 – Brawl in the Darkness

Author: nicotine

I went to pick up Carl with Judy after her French exam. Carl looked like death warmed over, probably because he bombed his test. Being surrounded by ordinary kids who were either overjoyed or devastated by a single exam made me feel much better.

To lift Carl’s spirits, I bought us ice cream (after licking a scoop of vanilla ice cream, Carl declared he would be philosophical about his test results), and we strolled around the campus. Judy had another exam, so she quickly returned to the school building, but Carl and I, who were done with tests for the day, found a spot on the tennis court stands to escape the sunlight.

As we sought refuge from the heat, <Jerome> on horseback came into our view. It seemed to be two in the afternoon. Dressed in riding attire, <Jerome> slowly crossed the campus on his horse. We fell silent for a moment, watching the sight blankly.

Without taking my eyes off <Jerome>, I asked.

<Didn’t you say before that you practically lived in the stables to carve a wooden statue?>

Carl answered.

<Yeah. I made it this spring. I thought it would be cold, but the stables were actually very warm.>

<Then you must have seen <Jerome> often, right?>

I asked it naturally, but I was tense. The reply came quickly.

<Oh, I saw him. <Jerome> rides his horse no matter how cold it is.>

But the next moment, Carl hesitated. I suddenly felt a chill. Hesitating while talking about <Jerome>? A dreadful premonition swept over me. Are all the people in this school really enemies? Is <Jerome> entangled with everyone in the school?

<Actually, I wasn’t honest in the studio this morning.>

Carl said, as if embarrassed.

at all. That’s not true.>

My voice came out steady without a tremor, but I was crushing the paper cup that had held the ice cream in half.

rides his horse every day. We often ran into each other when our schedules lined up. B-but, it was just exchanging greetings while coming and going, we never properly introduced ourselves…. But as I was observing the horses, I naturally started noticing <Jerome> too.>

Carl still seemed extremely hesitant and indecisive. His demeanor did not smell of an enemy. It was just a gut feeling, but I was instantly relieved. Thanks to that, I could wait for Carl’s words patiently without rushing him.

<Raymond, are you and <Jerome> close?>

I gave him a suitable reply.

<We’re not that close. He’s on the shy side.>

After those words, Carl kept his mouth shut for a while. <Jerome> had long disappeared from our sight. Carl looked at the students strolling across the campus before finally making eye contact, as if he had made up his mind. Carl was anxious and still hesitant, but he spoke in a tone full of conviction.

<In that case, it would be better not to get any closer to <Jerome>. <Jerome> is… he’s a dangerous person.>

For the first time, I was curious about what Carl had to say. And, a moment later, after hearing the story he confessed, I completely changed my opinion of him. Until now, he had been nothing more and nothing less than a chess piece I had drawn into the game, but after his story ended, he became another person who could move the game.

When Carl first showed up at the stables to sculpt the horse, the horses did not like him very much. Before starting to sculpt, Carl tried hard to befriend the wary horses. After he fed them, cleaned the stables, and occasionally stroked their noses gently, the horses no longer minded him sitting in a corner of the stable and drawing.

Planning to begin the actual sculpting only after the sketches were finished, Carl just sat in a corner of the stable and drew, as if he were there and not there. Thanks to that, even <Jerome>, who was sensitive to the atmosphere of the stables, stopped being conscious of Carl at some point.

The incident happened in the third week. It was on a day when Carl was lying in a corner of the stable, almost buried in the hay, being as quiet as if he were not there at all.

It rained that day. A cold wind blew near the stable entrance, so Carl settled down on a pile of hay in the innermost part of the stable. While he was drawing for a good while, he suddenly felt a wave of drowsiness, so he crawled into the warm, fluffy hay pile and dozed off. It was only natural that <Jerome> did not find Carl when he returned from his ride as usual.

Carl woke up to the sound of the horse entering. He was about to make his presence known, but he paused. He was not on close terms with <Jerome> to begin with, and he found him somewhat uncomfortable. The fact that <Jerome> was a royal was something everyone at the school knew. Carl chose to remain quietly buried in the hay pile and doze off.

It was then that a strange sound was heard.

It was a sound that was hard to describe, but one that instinctively sent a chill down the back of his neck. Peeking at the stable from over the hay pile, Carl realized what that sound was. It was the sound of something tearing through the air. Swish. <Jerome> was holding a riding crop, stopping in front of each stall, and whipping it at the horses. The whip did not actually touch the horses, but it was swung threateningly at a very close range.

<Jerome> adjusted the distance to be close enough for the horses to fully recognize it as a threat. The horses flinched their front hooves and neighed in fear of the tearing sound and the tip of the whip. With his mouth agape, Carl watched the bizarre and chilling act.

For the next week, he hid in the hay pile and waited for <Jerome> to return from his ride. <Jerome>’s almost grotesque act was repeated without fail whenever he came back from riding. After swinging the whip right in front of all the horses’ noses in the stable, <Jerome> would always stroke them affectionately. To Carl, that moment was always the most terrifying. <Jerome>’s face, which would suddenly transform after he had swung the whip as if to tear their skin to shreds, was enough to make one’s hair stand on end.

One day, while secretly watching <Jerome> like that, Carl had a sudden realization. What if <Jerome> found out he was being watched? What if he was discovered to have noticed his secret behavior? Carl immediately stopped going to the stables.

By the time the story was over, the western sky had turned a burning red. I listened to Carl’s story without interrupting even once. While I listened, I observed. Carl’s eyes, expression, voice, his hands, shoulders, feet, and the nape of his neck. There were no signs of lies. What Carl was saying was real. What he had felt was also real. Carl was truly afraid of <Jerome>, and surprisingly, he had not been caught by him despite having witnessed his true nature.

That was the most surprising fact of all. That <Jerome> had made a mistake. It was a stroke of heavenly luck for Carl. If <Jerome> had noticed, he might have become my predecessor.

As Carl kept his head down without a word, I was the one to speak first.

<So that’s what happened. To be honest, I also thought <Jerome> was strange. The fact that he uses a room by himself, and also… my room, they said six people transferred out before I came, right?>

Carl lifted his head. He tilted his head in confusion.

<Oh, I’m using Room 401 now. Someone transferred out this spring too, right? Nicholas or something. That’s why I got into Room 401.>

Hearing my words, Carl’s expression was grave.

<Raymond, no one has transferred out of Room 401 for a year. The room reached its full capacity for the first time in a year when you transferred in this spring.>

I could not believe it. I asked Carl to confirm it several times, but even then, I still could not believe it.

After asking over and over, I asked one more time. As if surprised by my sharp reaction, Carl answered with a bewildered expression.

, but anyway, what you said is right. Three people used Room 401 for a year. It’s true. You can ask someone else. Ask <Hugh>’s friends. They’ll all say the same thing.>

I shot up and leaped down the stands. A step behind, Carl called my name and chased after me. Instead of answering, I walked straight to the library. Carl, though bewildered, followed behind me.

Except for the areas with desks and chairs, the library lights were turned off here and there, making it dark. I picked up an electric lantern and headed for the records room. The records room was completely dark with the lights off, but since I had been there once before, I found the shelf with the dormitory entry registers in a single go. From behind me, Carl asked in a small voice what I was looking for. I did not answer and pulled out the latest register.

I opened it from the last page. The last page was my file. I quickly flipped to the previous pages. Tim. Thomas. Damon. Matt. And here…

<It’s not here.>

I muttered blankly.

<It’s gone….>

Carl whispered from my side.

<What’s wrong, Raymond? What are you looking for?>

There was a file with the name blotted out with black ink. Definitely.

I pulled out all three registers. I rummaged through my bag and took out the note where I had jotted down information about the registers. Following the dates written on the note, I once again thoroughly searched through all three registers. Carl no longer said anything and sat quietly beside me. It seemed he too had noticed that something was going strangely awry.

While examining the three registers by the light of the electric lantern, a shiver ran down the nape of my neck. I trembled just like that night when I first looked through the registers. The files of my predecessors, whose names had been blotted out with black ink, had all completely vanished. There was not even a trace of a torn page. As if everything I had found that day was a hallucination… as if it had never happened at all…. Suddenly, my vision spun.

Could it be that I am going crazy?

All of a sudden, I was terrified. Everything was tangled in confusion. Where does the reality begin? I could not tell what was real and what was fake. Am I awake right now? Is this reality? Am I actually dreaming? Or am I seeing a fantasy? I felt like I was going to lose my mind. What on earth was the conversation I had with <George> this afternoon? And <Jerome>? Are <Simon> and <Hugh> all people who actually exist?

What about Carl?

I abruptly turned my head. Carl’s face, faintly illuminated by the electric lantern, was staring right at me.

What is this bastard? Isn’t this son of a bitch an accomplice too? Since when has he been sitting here? Since when has he been watching me? All these bastards are trying to deceive me… to drive me crazy!

Carl’s face, shadowed by the light of the electric lantern, was now smiling. Carl’s face, contorted into a grotesque grin with only the corners of his mouth turned up, looked astonishingly like <Jerome>. Carl looked at me with eyes that glinted like a snake’s.

No, it was not Carl. It was <Jerome>.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, it was not Carl! It was <Jerome>! Since! Fucking! When!

I lunged at <Jerome>’s smiling face. Even as I choked him, <Jerome> just looked at me, smiling nonchalantly. As I thought, this was not real. Where am I right now? Am I dreaming? Is this a hallucination?

At that moment, I realized that until now, I had been living in a world of complete silence. That there was nothing that had actually reached my ears and that all of this was happening in a suffocating silence. That silence was beginning to shatter from very far away. The sound was dull, yet it sharply penetrated and broke the silence. Finally, I could vividly hear the single scream that had been ringing in my ears all along. It was a sound coming from my own mouth.

“Help me! Help me! Help me! Help me! Help me!”

When I opened my eyes, what came into view was an unfamiliar stone wall. A faint, half-erased fresco was painted on the ceiling, which seemed to have been deliberately finished with a rough texture. I blinked blankly and looked at the painting. It was a painting I had never seen before. The half-erased image of Jesus with a halo on his head looked rather bizarre. The golden sunlight of the brilliant sunset at Golgotha had faded, so its beauty could only be inferred.

I stared blankly at the ceiling before pushing myself up. I wondered where I was. And why I was lying here alone. The blanket that had been covering me slid off.

It was a place I had never seen before. It was clearly part of the school, but somewhere I had never been. Thanks to the lamp next to the sofa, examining the room was not a problem. There were unfamiliar objects in the room. There was a large pile of what looked like sawdust, and completely out of place, a box filled to the brim with dried leaves. In one corner, wooden blocks were neatly stacked. I had no idea what these things were used for. Instead of thinking about it, I got off the sofa.

I could stand without any trouble. Nothing hurt. I just could not recall the circumstances that brought me here or my last memory before losing consciousness. My head felt like a chaotic mess, yet at the same time, it felt completely clear. Looking out the window, I saw that it was pitch black. I looked at the door.

I stood in front of the door but could not bring myself to open the doorknob. I did not know why. It felt like something scary would happen if I opened this door. I did not know where this was, but it felt like if I stayed here quietly, nothing would happen. It felt like everything would be okay. But if I opened the door, if I went outside, it felt like something irreversible would happen…. Yet, I grabbed the doorknob, driven by some unknown force. Without realizing it, I turned the knob and opened the door wide.

A warm, bright light poured in from beyond the door. It was so bright that I blinked for a moment. A boy who had been sitting in a chair turned to look at me. He quickly got up and came closer.

<You’re awake? Are you okay?>

The boy asked.

The boy bustled about by himself before finding a water bottle and handing it to me. Seeing the water bottle, I suddenly realized I was thirsty. It felt like I had not spoken for a long time. After hastily gulping down the entire bottle of water, my senses gradually returned.

Carl asked cautiously.

Ah, it was Carl. The boy was Carl. This was the club workshop in the annex building. As soon as I realized that, my memories came flooding back. The incident at the library, sitting on the stands with Carl eating ice cream, the conversation with <George> and receiving some sort of medicine and a key from him, and because of <Jerome>….

I touched my forehead. I could vividly feel the bandage stuck there. A sudden wave of relief washed over me, and I felt my strength leave my body as if I had been drained of all energy.

When I slumped to the floor, Carl quickly helped me up. He looked into my eyes with concern. Carl’s eyes were a light brown. I could not believe I had confused these eyes with <Jerome>’s snake-like green eyes. The smell of dust in the records room and the bizarre phenomena that had happened to me must have made me lose my mind for a moment.

I asked.

<Um… from what point can’t you remember?>

In truth, all my memories had returned, but I could not trust my own memory. Therefore, I lied and said I only remembered up to going to the library. At that, Carl began to explain hesitantly.

Carl showed me the note. It was the note where I had recorded information about my predecessors. I took the note from him without a word.

<How?>

Carl hesitated. But when I stared at him with a look that demanded an answer, he finally opened his mouth.

Carl scratched his head awkwardly.

I could sense that this was not the end of the story. There was something more to Carl’s attitude than just seeing a simple seizure. He had seen something else. That was why he showed no anger even though I had tried to strangle him during my seizure. But what did he see? What else did I show him? Something must have…. Oh. He saw that.

I said quietly.

Carl, who had been hesitating and wavering all this time, finally lowered his head.

I spoke gently.

<It’s okay. Where are the photos?>

Carl brought my bag, which was on the workbench. Inside the bag was a bundle of photos. I had not found a suitable place to hide them, so I had been carrying them in my bag all this time. Carl had seen this bundle of photos. What Carl saw was not just a bundle of photos. By seeing the bundle of photos, he had seen everything about me. Now there was no way to get him out of the game. He was now in a position to be with me not only for this game, but until the very end of the game.

I needed to explain to Carl, but before that, I myself desperately needed an explanation more than anyone.

Knowing it made Carl uncomfortable, I maintained my silence. I looked at the clock and carefully calculated. The time I was unconscious was not long. It was only about 30 minutes. If you factor in the time it took to get from the library to the workshop, I had actually been lying on the sofa for less than 10 minutes. The clock had just passed six in the evening. There was enough time.

First, I cleared the workbench completely. Then I placed items on it one by one. The bundle of photos. The note about the predecessors. The medicine pouch <George> had given me. The key to Room B402, <Jerome>’s room. And all the information passed on from <George> that could not be laid out on the workbench. Now I had to separate the things that had been revealed to be false.

The bundle of photos was real. The predecessors were fake. The medicine pouch and the key to 402 could not yet be verified as true or false. The possibility of them being fake was overwhelmingly high, but I did not want to leave any exceptions anymore. I had to be able to define the current situation in only two categories: black and white. For now, I set the medicine pouch aside, and put the key with the bundle of photos into my bag. The note about the predecessors was trash. I tore it to shreds.

What was more important than anything at this moment was <George>. I had to make a judgment about <George>. Of course, <George>, ah, damn it! I was beautifully tricked! All the stories he babbled about my predecessors were utter lies! <George> was clearly an accomplice!

But really? Is that really the case? Could <George> be infinitely close to being an accomplice, but is actually my one and only predecessor?

<George> too could not be divided into black and white. If so, then I would have to try using this bait that <George> gave me. The range of possible assumptions will widen. I went to the workshop sink and got a cup of water. I poured all the medicine I intended to feed to Jerome into the cup and dissolved it.

I turned back to Carl, who had been waiting quietly without a word of interruption all this time. Carl, who was habitually fiddling with a carving knife, looked up at me.

I opened my mouth, swirling the cup.

While I was organizing my thoughts, it seemed Carl had organized his own as well. Unlike his hesitant demeanor throughout the evening, he spoke up immediately.

Carl paused for a moment. I said nothing. After a short silence, Carl shot up from his chair.

<Alright. Then let’s go report this to the police now.>

<…If I were the police, and a twenty-year-old young man who is 188 centimeters tall reports that he was gang-raped, well, I would be interested. The only evidence I have is a bundle of photos that look like a pornographic film, but one of the people I point to as a suspect is none other than a member of the royal family. Would they just be interested? They’ll be very helpful. They’ll be a great help in sending me to a mental hospital.>

Even though I spoke cynically, Carl did not back down. He readily admitted it.

<That’s a valid point. There’s a possibility the police might be suspicious. But at least they can get you out of this school.>

Carl said calmly.

<I’m no help at all, Raymond. I’m just a student. The same goes for you. You can’t do anything either. Just by enduring this far, you’ve already done everything you can.>

I asked.

<Yes.>

<Raymond, think carefully. We can’t handle this on our own. You can’t handle it on your own either. This is a crime. A heinous crime. No one should have to go through something like this. You need help, Raymond. We all need help….>

<You’re right. I need help. I passed my limit a long time ago.>

I confessed honestly. Carl nodded with an anxious face. I continued calmly.

<It’s not because of <Jerome>. It’s been like this since my dad died.>

I downed the water with the dissolved medicine. After drinking the entire cup, I looked at Carl. Carl looked at the cup I had drunk from with anxious eyes.

<Raymond….>

I spoke in a monotone voice and studied Carl’s face. Carl looked devastated.

Finishing my speech, I slumped into a chair. If the medicine <George> gave me was real, its effects would soon kick in.

And then I fell silent. True to my declaration, Carl did not ask anything. He looked at me, then simply lowered his head.

…I did not know when I had fallen asleep. When I opened my eyes, I was again looking at the half-erased fresco on the rough stone wall. When I turned my head, I saw the face of Carl, who was asleep on a blanket spread out on the floor below the sofa.

So you decided to come with me after all. I reached out and touched the boy’s cheek. Carl woke up. He blinked and looked at me, and as he shook off his sleepiness, his face quickly turned gloomy. My hand was still resting on his cheek. Carl said.

Carl, who asked with a short sigh, furrowed his brow.

I gave him a grin.

<It’s okay to ask. And to answer your question, Carl, that’s an incredibly positive sign.>

The medicine was real.

<George> really was trying to kill <Jerome>. Among the many things <George> had spouted, this much, at least, was not a lie.

Despite my saying I would not explain anything, Carl kept throwing questions at me. But among those questions, there was not a single one about <Jerome> or the bundle of photos. Carl faithfully abided by the words I had driven home last evening: <Do not ask>. While we crossed the campus to eat breakfast, the questions Carl threw at me were mostly of the following sort:

<Raymond, do you like vanilla ice cream?>

I stopped in my tracks without thinking and looked back at Carl. He had been following a step behind and raised his head. I asked back, bewildered.

But instead of answering, Carl just shrugged his shoulders.

<…I’m not a big fan of ice cream.>

As soon as I answered, Carl’s eyes lit up. With an excited face, he asked again.

Instead of answering, I just stared at him. Despite my gaze, Carl gave me a sly smile. He did not even wait for an answer and walked on ahead. Following behind Carl, I answered belatedly.

<Summer.>

<『1984』 or 『Brave New World』?>

Instead of finishing my sentence, I answered Carl’s question. It was because I felt like Carl would not answer my question anyway.

<『Wuthering Heights』.>

Carl looked at me with a mischievous expression.

I did not answer. There was no need to tell him that Julia was my mother. Carl did not seem to mind that no answer came back. The questions kept pouring out. Do you like coffee or tea? Real Madrid or Barcelona? Do you like dogs? Or cats? No, don’t tell me! I’ll guess. Carl, who had been lost in thought while rolling his eyes, suddenly shouted.

<Dogs! It must be dogs. Right?>

Instead of answering, I stared blankly at Carl. The dazzling and stinging summer sunlight of the morning shattered on his face. The smile that Carl wore was blinding. He waited for an answer with a face that could not hide his playfulness. This time, I walked ahead of Carl.

<Neither. I like sheep.>

From behind me, Carl threw one last question.

His voice was calm.

<Raymond, you’re not actually interested in sculpting, are you? You followed Judy for another reason, right?>

I answered.

<Yeah.>

Even with this final exchange, the atmosphere flowing between Carl and me was gentle and peaceful. It felt like it had been a really long time since I had a conversation so relaxed and without tension. There was no hidden meaning in the words Carl threw at me. It was the complete opposite of the question and answer sessions I had with <George>. Carl pretended to pout at my answer.

<Um….>

Seeing Carl pout, I let out a chuckle.

<Whatever. I don’t believe you.>

<I’m telling you it’s true….>

Pretending to be sulking, Carl took his arm off my shoulders and slipped into the cafeteria first. I could not stop smiling even as I followed him in. When I grabbed Carl by the collar and put my arm around his shoulders affectionately this time, I flinched in surprise. My eyes had met with <Simon>, who was sitting alone in a corner of the cafeteria, eating his meal.

<Simon> put down the spoon he was bringing to his mouth and stared at me intently. No, it was not me. His gaze was fixed on Carl.

Carl, oblivious to everything, was humming a strange melody and reading the menu. A heavy sense of guilt suddenly weighed on my chest. Carl knew nothing. About what I had been through, what kind of situation he had gotten himself into, or who our enemies were. His ignorance might grant him a brief moment of peace now, but in the end, that very ignorance would be the death of him. I had an even stronger premonition of this fact. Because <Simon>’s gaze never left us.

I deliberately avoided his gaze and ordered food with Carl. By the time we sat at a table, <Simon> was already leaving the cafeteria. I watched his back until he was out of sight, then turned my gaze to Carl. Carl was looking at my complexion with a worried face, and when our eyes met, he gave an awkward smile. It seemed Carl was still worried about me. There was the seizure I had yesterday, and the fact that I had fallen asleep as if I had passed out last night must have weighed on his mind as well. His cheerful talk and pointless questions might have been to lift my spirits.

It was unnecessary. I looked into Carl’s awkward face and opened my mouth.

<Carl. I wonder if you’ve taken this situation seriously.>

<…Of course I’m serious.>

Carl replied, his face devoid of its earlier smile.

<Maybe, maybe not.>

Surprisingly, Carl answered calmly.

Carl stopped talking and suddenly stared at my face. I could feel an unbendable, straight will in his eyes. Carl spoke calmly with clear eyes.

Having stopped talking, Carl suddenly mumbled. The one phrase he added hesitantly was what finally allowed me to trust him.

Silence followed. After the food was brought, there were no more serious conversations. Since neither of us had an exam in the morning, we continued our meal at a leisurely pace. The conversation turned to everyday topics.

Carl brought up the topic of exams as if he had completely forgotten the grim conversation we had just a moment ago. While I gave suitable replies to Carl’s chatter, the words he had said earlier kept circling in my mind.

He said he would help me for his own sake. Those words instilled a sense of trust in Carl, but at the same time, they made me feel terribly depressed. Someday, Carl would realize. That he should have abandoned me and run away.

I could no longer be responsible for Carl’s choice. Since Carl himself had decided to stick his head into this mess, we had no choice but to walk together. Of course, I left open the suspicion that Carl might be a hypocrite like <George>. But anyway, unlike <George>, Carl had a rather trustworthy side to him.

<George>. Yes, he was different from <George>. <George>’s actions did not add up in any respect. First, there were things that made it plausible to believe he was a predecessor.

He had the same bundle of photos as me. He was raped by <Hugh>, and <Jerome> and <Simon> watched. The medicine he gave me to kill <Jerome> was real. If the medicine was real, there was a high possibility that the key was also real. However, there were also incidents that made it impossible not to believe he was an accomplice.

He lied about the six predecessors. They were people who had never existed from the beginning. He stood by while I was being abused and even actually participated in the gang rape. He lied about the fourth person who appeared in the bundle of photos. <George> was an inconsistent character.

Thanks to that, my top priority was set. I had to uncover <George>’s true identity. In order to fight, I first had to know who the enemy was. However, to uncover <George>’s identity, I had to take a gamble and throw myself into their trap. I had a premonition that our game was reaching its end. They wanted to test my limits. Could I endure the abuse that would be inflicted next? Had I not already had a seizure in the library once?

If I broke down, it would be the end. In reality, they had never once given me a so-called <chance>. With every attack, they tried to bring me down with all their might, and thanks to overcoming those attacks, I had earned myself one <chance> after another. The moment I submitted to the abuse and violence, the hunting game would be over. Once the game was over, they would not hesitate to tear open my stomach with their sharp teeth and eat my insides.

<I’m going to France when the semester ends.>

While I was lost in thought, Carl continued his trivial chatter.

The topic Carl brought up snapped me out of my reverie.

<Vacation?>

I asked blankly.

<Yeah. After the exams end this week, vacation starts next week.>

<Then… that means we can leave the school?>

I asked back stupidly.

Carl’s eyes lit up as if he knew what I meant, and he nodded his head.

<That’s right. If you don’t want to call the police, you just have to endure this week somehow. The vacation… it won’t be long because of college entrance exam preparations. At most, about a month…. But you don’t have to come back to school after the vacation ends, right?>

Vacation!

I felt like I had been hit over the head. I blinked my eyes like an idiot and stared blankly at Carl’s serious face. I had not even thought about vacation. In fact, having not stepped outside the school gates for the past five years, I had completely forgotten about the existence of vacation.

When vacation starts, everyone disperses and goes to their respective homes. It would likely be the same for <Jerome> and the other three. I might have to return to Julia’s house in California as well. If that were the case, it meant that a surprisingly easy escape route from <Jerome>’s gang was wide open.

Suddenly, it all seemed absurd. The police were never needed in the first place. I was the one who had endured the abuse from <Jerome> and the three others for nearly a month. There was no way I could not endure just this one week.

All at once, the tension left my body, and I almost slid off my chair. I looked at Carl in disbelief and then burst into laughter. Carl looked bewildered. That too was so cute that I laughed out loud.

I said gently, a smile still lingering on my face.

<I’ve endured it splendidly so far.>

Although it was a week, today was already Wednesday. The morning had already passed. Including today, I just had to endure for five more days. No, I did not even have to spend the weekend at school. I might be able to leave on Friday. Thinking that, my heart felt as light as a feather.

After finishing our meal, while walking to the school building for the afternoon exam, we started making plans for how to spend this week. Carl willingly offered to let me use his living room sofa. I had no reason to refuse. He said that if he could get Eric’s permission, it would be fine for me to sleep on a blanket on the floor in their room with the door locked. Again, I had no reason to refuse the offer.

We decided to stick together no matter what during the rest of the time. However, we could not do so for this evening. It was because Carl had an exam until the evening. For me, all my exams would be over after this afternoon’s exam and Thursday morning’s exam. We decided that while Carl was gone in the evening, I would spend time in the workshop with the club members.

Carl said that if no one was in the workshop, I should go to his dorm. He said there would definitely be two or three people lounging around in the dormitory’s common room. But I said it would be better to wait in a crowded courtyard or cafe. We discussed this and that and finally arrived at the school building.

Carl walked me to the classroom where I would be taking my exam.

<No. I don’t care about my exam scores anyway.>

Carl, who had stopped abruptly in the hallway, stared at me.

<Don’t tell me you’ve been taking the exams half-heartedly all this time? You at least made it look decent, right?>

Carl said seriously.

I grinned at his words.

<It’s fine. I didn’t take them that half-heartedly.>

Although I answered with a smile, on the other hand, I did not understand.

Carl said it as if it were nothing.

I tilted my head. I was sure I had no memory of hearing it. I walked on with a doubtful face. After arriving in front of the classroom, I parted with Carl. In any case, thanks to what Carl told me, I took this exam with a decent amount of care. Fortunately, it was an English literature exam, which I liked, so it was not a difficult task. After the exam, as promised with Carl, I went straight to the workshop. I only chose crowded paths and was able to arrive at the workshop without any incident.

Several members were gathered in the workshop. There were three or four girls, including Judy, and two or three boys. I had not seen the girls’ faces before. As I entered making my presence known, the students turned to look at me. They were surrounding Judy, and Judy’s face, when she lifted her head, was wet with tears. A chilling premonition ran down the nape of my neck.

Upon seeing me, Judy seemed about to greet me but then burst into tears again, burying her face in the arms of the girl standing next to her. I stood next to a boy and quietly asked what was wrong. The boy answered with a troubled face.

The boy added in a low voice.

I could not properly hear the rest of his words. My heart sank. It was obvious who the culprit was.

After the police arrived and investigated, nothing else was revealed. It was because the crime had been committed while exams were in full swing. There was no one in the dormitory at the time, and as luck would have it, the housemistress was also away. By a stroke of luck, a school staff member was guarding the dormitory entrance instead of the housemistress, but she testified that no one had returned to the dormitory while she was on watch. Judy finished her interview with the police and decided to rest in another friend’s room.

Watching the whole situation unfold, I realized how foolish Carl’s idea of seeking help from the police was. The police were of no help. They made it that way. They carried out their plan skillfully, cunningly, and carefully, so that the police could not be of any help. Was there anything they could not do?

We silently watched the school staff member and the police officers conversing. The staff member was guarding the dormitory entrance in place of the housemistress, and the flamboyant green blouse she wore seemed quite uncomfortable for guard duty. A little while later, the sight of the police car leaving the school without having gained any leads was quite impressive.

<Jerome> had asked me how far I could endure, but I was the one who was curious about how far they could go. I could now be certain that they could easily kill or spare me. The skill with which they had been secretly drugging me since I came to the school was proof enough. What else could they accomplish?

For me.

Only for me.

Their insane actions were truly no different from a passionate courtship…. But the moment I accept that courtship, all their passion would cool like a corpse, as if they had never loved so ardently. Because their courtship is most valuable when it is rejected and hated.

As the police car disappeared, I turned around. As soon as I turned, I bumped into the person right behind me. I shut my mouth at the face I saw when I raised my head to apologize. <Simon>, who had been hovering by my side like a ghost for the past few days, was standing face to face with me for the first time. He spoke to me.

I retorted fiercely and strode past him. But <Simon>, unlike his usual self, followed me. He did not get angry and, with an indifferent expression, stuck by my side and said,

I replied coldly without slowing my walking pace at all.

<Simon> grabbed my arm. His always-warm hand wrapped gently around my arm. <Simon>, having stopped my steps, looked into my face seriously and confessed.

We stood in the arched cloister of the monastery, staring at each other. There were a few students passing by us, and in the small garden that the cloister encircled, boys and girls were gathered in small groups, sunbathing. <Simon>’s face, bathed in the golden sunlight, looked honest without a single grain of falsehood. His black eyes looked at me quite seriously.

Those eyes were not hidden by the sharp humor of <Jerome>, nor were they ambiguous with the false passion of <Hugh>, nor did they show the calculating glint of <George> that openly observed and scrutinized. However, I could clearly read the madness submerged within those eyes. <Simon> was serious. He looked as if he was confessing his love sincerely. But if those were the eyes of someone confessing love sincerely, then <Simon> was a madman.

His eyes were not what we generally know as ‘eyes in love’. What could be found in his perfectly restrained, stern, and calm gaze was not an unsuppressible passion for love. It was an unsuppressible madness directed at me.

Without pulling away my captured arm, I quietly opened my mouth.

<Simon> replied calmly.

<Yes. I love you, Raymond.>

If those words had been written, they might have read sweetly. But the sound of the confession flowing from <Simon>’s throat was as dry as could be. I was more curious than incredulous, so I asked.

I was also curious if he could answer.

At those words, <Simon> let go of the hand that held my arm. He raised his hand and without hesitation, touched my cheek. A few students in the garden saw us and whispered among themselves. <Simon> did not care. Neither did I. Standing face to face with each other, in this sweet moment of confessing and receiving a confession of love, our bodies were stiff with sharp hostility and tension.

The tips of <Simon>’s fingers on my cheek were warm. I had never felt such a warm hand. From his hand, I could feel a warm and soft heat, like pebbles warmed by the sun, like flower petals that had soaked up plenty of sunlight, a warmth that anyone would find friendly and feel affection for.

I once trusted this hand. I was reassured when this hand touched, held, and comforted me. <Simon>, with the warm hand that I had once trusted but now despised and distrusted, caressed my cheek and then gently covered my eyes.

The hand covering my eyes lowered my eyelids. If I tried to open my eyes, <Simon> would close them again. Realizing his intention, I obediently closed my eyes. Finally, <Simon> removed his hand. I stood blankly in front of <Simon> with my eyes closed.

<…….>

In that state, only silence continued for one or two minutes. I felt my ears gradually opening up. Instead of seeing, I became more and more sensitive to the sounds seeping into my eardrums and the smells reaching the tip of my nose. Then, <Simon> took a step closer. I knew without seeing. His body scent had gotten closer. The next moment, <Simon>’s voice came.

<Don’t answer, Raymond.>

He said, affectionately yet indifferently.

<Don’t open your mouth, close your eyes, and just stay still… yes, just like now….>

<…….>

<I… I hate your smiling face.>

That was the first sentence <Simon> uttered. I almost opened my eyes at the unexpected words, but <Simon>, sensing my agitation, lightly placed his hand over my eyes to prevent me from opening them. When I stayed still, <Simon> lowered his hand. He was treating me completely like a doll. It was absurd. But since I had decided to play along with <Simon>, I wanted to hear him out to the end.

Author's Thoughts

There are numerous stimulating scenes involving rape, gang rape, violence, abuse, and drugs. Please practice discretion as you proceed.

Join my discord to be updated on advance chapter, free chapter updates!