Black Swan Chapter 18

Having no other choice, Gwanchang accepted the stack of papers and skimmed through the first page. It was the draft manuscript for a serialized comic printed on propaganda leaflets scattered by the slaughterers. These propaganda leaflets were distributed in massive quantities along the border line three times a month, and absurdly enough, enjoyed explosive popularity among the snakes. The content, which sexually and explicitly demeaned Mukso, the king of Usaguk (羽蛇國), was so comical and intriguing that they could not help but wait for the next chapter. Truth be told, Gwanchang was also an avid reader.

Gwanchang turned the pages of the comic manuscript as slowly as possible.

“The drawings are magnificent, aren’t they?”

Lee Hwanmae spoke, looking down at Gwanchang with his long, slit eyes.

“Consider it an honor. That private over there is none other than the master painter who drew this comic. Though another fellow handled the story, that is. [Save Mukso’s Cock] is immensely popular among you snakes as well, isn’t it? I’ve seen it more than once or twice—on the days leaflets are distributed, you snakes wander around near the border line from early morning with excited expressions. Today, you met a popular star. If you want, I could even get you an autograph.”

Gwanchang passed the comic manuscript to the side. Although it was a manuscript that had not been translated into Western Continent Standard, the snakes passed it around while turning the pages as slowly as possible. They, who usually split their sides laughing while reading the comic, were not laughing at all right now. Once they finished reading the entire manuscript, the gates of hell would open. They had to buy time somehow.

Lee Hwanmae waited leisurely until the snakes finished reading the manuscript. When the snakes had all passed around and read the manuscript, the private gathered the pages and handed them to Lee Hwanmae. The snakes instinctively hugged one another tight. People of the Western Continent traditionally revere chivalrous knights. Even in the moment of death, one had to be composed to be considered a real man, but now they were all so paralyzed with terror that they forgot even that.

“Since you’re here, why don’t you do a practical training before leaving, disciple? This practical training assignment will be quite fun.”

Lee Hwanmae gestured with his chin toward the private. The private nodded and walked heavily over toward the snakes. The private’s long, slit eyes stared intently at the snakes. As time went on, Gwanchang felt stranger and stranger. Looking at them now, the atmosphere of Lee Hwanmae, Yoo Nanoh, and the private was oddly similar. All three possessed excessively young faces where time seemed to have stopped, and emotionless eyes devoid of humanity.

The private merely looked at the snakes in silence. Without pulling out torture instruments, nor drawing the long sword strapped to his waist, he stared at them for a long time as if looking at goldfish inside a fishbowl. The sight of that fair, pretty face staring this way without blinking even once for a considerable amount of time was extremely spine-chilling. Rather than a human, he was like a porcelain doll possessed by an evil ghost.

No matter how I look at it, he isn’t a fellow of ordinary skill.

To think they put a talent like that as a mere private and use him to draw comics. Lee Hwanmae has no eye for picking talent. He’s a fool.

The moment Gwanchang thought so, one side of the private’s lips suddenly curled up slightly. Those lips, which underwent a slight change, soon froze stiff without expression. Gwanchang was briefly swept with suspicion as to whether he had seen something wrong.

The private turned his body abruptly and walked back toward his superiors. Tilting his head toward Lee Hwanmae, the private whispered softly.

“…Yes, that’s correct. Our disciple’s skills are getting better and better.”

Lee Hwanmae, who was letting out a smile, pointed his finger straight at Gwanchang.

“You. The fellow who knows how to speak Eastern Script.”

It felt as though he had been ambushed in the middle of the night. Gwanchang stared at Lee Hwanmae in utter daze.

How did he know?

How…?

“Step out this way. You take charge of interpreting here.”

Lee Hwanmae beckoned with his finger. Gwanchang, who had been frozen stiff, eventually stood up and walked toward the slaughterers. Lee Hwanmae’s finger aimed at Brigadier General Yang Jeo.

“You come out, too.”

Brigadier General Yang Jeo’s eyes widened as if they would tear apart. Gwanchang was shocked as well. Because he had naturally expected that they would inflict torture to find out his rank. Although Brigadier General Yang Jeo was the oldest among the snakes, it was suspicious to conclude that they discovered his identity based merely on that clue.

Could information have leaked out?

Lee Hwanmae’s designation was accurate enough to make such a suspicion inevitable. Without hesitation, he pointed out the person fluent in Eastern Script (東文語) and picked out the most suitable sacrifice to offer on the altar of hell. It was something impossible unless information had leaked out.

“You handle it today, disciple.”

Lee Hwanmae spoke, interlocking his hands clad in black gloves. Without hesitation, the private put on a black raincoat hanging in the torture chamber and put on gloves. It was the beginning of butchery.

Leaning his back against the wall, Yoo Nanoh spoke.

“Hey, Eastern Script speaker. Listen closely. Whenever we trim the snakes in the torture chamber, there’s a phrase we unconditionally say. Translate that.”

Drawing a dagger, the private approached the snakes and spoke in an emotionless voice. Gwanchang translated those words to the snakes.

“Never forgive me.”

The snakes’ complexions turned pale and sickly. The private raised the hand holding the dagger high. Screams surged up. Gouging through the snake’s belly, internal organs poured out with a crash. Grabbing the organs, the private shoved them firmly into the snake’s maw. The snake, biting his own organs in his mouth, suffocated to death on the spot. The private turned his body abruptly to the next target. Blood dripped down from his face, which was pretty and white like a porcelain doll.

The slaughterers before his eyes were killers surpassing their reputation. Gwanchang instinctively recognized that Lee Hwanmae, Yoo Nanoh, and the pretty private were born killers. Monsters innately equipped with madness in their veins. Slaughterers who were born luckily in a turbulent age that demanded slaughter and displayed their talents to their heart’s content. A subject is the mirror of his monarch. Just looking at the slaughterers before his eyes, Gwanchang could truly feel how cruel Lee Hwa must be.

Never forgive me. These words were, in short, a declaration that I will never seek forgiveness from you. A person with no mind to seek forgiveness is bound to become extremely cruel. The pretty private slaughtered five snakes using extremely brutal methods. The snakes died of airway obstruction with their own internal organs in their mouths. The corpses would be scattered along the border line as soon as day broke to chill the snakes to the bone.

“Bravo.”

Lee Hwanmae clapped his hands in satisfaction. Yoo Nanoh tossed a towel toward the private taking off his raincoat.

Lee Hwanmae shifted his gaze toward Brigadier General Yang Jeo and stood up.

“Well then, shall we go do some patriotism?”

∞ ∞ ∞

The temple of hell was immense. Fitting for the world’s only cult nation that worshipped a person as a god, the fanatics set up an overwhelmingly massive temple even inside the barracks. Under the pretext that one must praise the miraculous abilities of the God — Lee Hwa to receive revelations, the fanatics held slaughter rituals every night. Filming video footage of the scenes where they tortured and murdered snakes captured during hunts, they screened them every night on hundreds of large outdoor screens installed along the border line.

The absolute climax among the screened works was a ritual where the snakes gang-raped one another. The snakes praised Lee Hwa while gang-raping one another and becoming tangled together. From numerous amplifiers installed along the long border line, screams poured out every night. That act was in its seventh year this year. The terrifying fanatical acts displayed by the warriors of this cult nation emerged as an international specialty within just one year of the border conflict breaking out between the ‘Kingdom of God’ and ‘Usaguk (羽蛇國)’. Overseas, they were compared to Mayans reborn in modern times.

It was roughly ten years ago when Mukso, the leader of ‘Usaguk (羽蛇國)’, cast his eyes upon the two nations of the Eastern Peninsula, the ‘Kingdom of God’ and the ‘Kingdom of Ryun (侖)’. Due to chronic abnormal climate and water shortages, Usaguk suffered massive trade deficits every year importing agricultural products, far from being self-sufficient. A person turns into a thief when they have no money and are hungry. Mukso planned to fill the snakes’ bellies by raiding the two nearby nations of the Eastern Peninsula.

When ‘That Era’ ended 870 years ago, the existing economic order of the world completely changed. Thereafter, the vast majority of nations chose isolationism, remaining self-sufficient while maintaining minimal trade. The ‘Kingdom of God’ was also an agricultural nation that had maintained isolationism to this day along with its brother nation, the ‘Kingdom of Ryun (侖)’, but rather than isolation, the nation’s closed nature was high enough that the expression ‘national seclusion’ was more fitting. The greatest peculiarity of this nation located north of the Eastern Peninsula was that a dictatorial power disguised as a dynasty had maintained its lifespan for over 800 whole years. Considering that even its brother nation, the ‘Kingdom of Ryun (侖)’, had its regime changed three or four times, it was a quite prominent characteristic. It was a phenomenon that could never occur in a dynamic society.