That leaves Zhang with an Appeal with Tae Jun-hyeok and Tak Hwa-yeon, while Kim Min-jae only has Eun Chang-min left. I don’t know what either of them are planning, but I’d rather not think about it. Too much wasted energy.
Sung Yeong-ae turned the key and entered her apartment. Quiet classical music played on the speakers and the waft of flower-scented candles paraded through the air. It would be a pleasant scene to intrude on; however, the serenity was disturbed by the mad-woman occupying the couch. She’d captured the entire coffee-table and layered the surface with papers, files, a couple coffee-crusted mugs, and her personal laptop.
“Lynn,” said Yeong-ae, slipping her shoes off at the doorway. “Are you still—?”
“Yes, I’m still researching Dorothea!” Lynn exclaimed without so much of a glance in her direction.
Yeong-ae’s permanent frown deepened.
Ever since Lynn had encountered Dorothea on day two of the Gold Rush, she’d been more disturbed than usual. Day three—yesterday, when Yeong-ae had met the idiot for herself—was when Lynn developed an unhealthy obsession with the girl. Her research had carried her well past midnight, and without intervention, tonight would be the same.
Yeong-ae glanced at the papers and files—everything the school had on Dorothea Zhang—but she couldn’t note anything substantial amongst the information. Really, her true concern lied with her troublesome roommate. “Did you eat dinner yet?”
Lynn nodded, gesturing toward a few plastic wrappers. Store-bought onigiri.
“That doesn’t provide enough nutrients. Do you remember the last time you didn’t properly feed?”
“A few days won’t hurt me.”
That’s what you said last time before you started seeing dogs and cats as walking barbeque on legs. “Whatever you do, don’t make more trouble for me.”
Yeong-ae dropped her belongings next to the couch. Just before leaving for the kitchen, a set of hard calluses wrapped around her wrist. A weak tug followed; "weak" as in "gently ripping her arm out of its socket." If she sat down, the next few minutes might be auditory torture. What was worse, though? That, or dealing with an upset doctor for the rest of the night?
The decision was ultimately made when Yeong-ae, reluctantly, sat next to her roommate. “What did you uncover?”
“Nothing, actually, which indicates Dorothea is a [Character].” So the girl is likely a spy or her real identity necessitates a disguise. That begs the question: Who does she belong to?
“So,” Yeong-ae said, “she lacks proper and thorough records that would otherwise be present for a real person?”
“Mhm, but her recommendation from Hwarang seems valid.”
You couldn’t forge a recommendation like that, and you wouldn’t dare risk the consequences. If Hwarang is in her corner, then she’s associated with powerful people. “A stupid suggestion, but have you considered if she’s a xia?”
“How many sects have a half-American heiress?”
“They wouldn’t disclose the fact in the first place. They’d either lie or hide her.” Yeong-ae pursed her lips. “The latter is a plausible theory.”
“And she clearly spent time in America and Ordo, which has their own set of implications.” Lynn fell back onto the couch and loudly groaned, clawing at her eyes. “I… I don’t understand what her game is. She practically reveals she’s a spy in our first conversation and expects me to assist!”
“She read you well.” Yeong-ae glanced at a nearby picture of Lynn and Chae Yo-han on the wall. “You have a weak spot for pathetic and useless kids.”
“And do you know what’s worse?”
“That you gave her your phone number?”
“No. Yesterday, my mentor called because he found out I was working here.”
A rare knot of anxiety burrowed deeply into Yeong-ae’s stomach. “Lynn—”
“He wasn’t mad, don’t worry,” she said, which admittedly didn’t unravel the knot. Not completely. “He was just…curious why I didn’t inform him sooner, but we cleared the air. In fact, do you know what’s surprising? He’s working for Angels Guild! Angels Guild!”
The world’s coming to an end. Genuinely. “Right. I’ll intentionally ignore the political ramifications of that arrangement.” Yeong-ae turned to the messy table once more. “Let’s go back to the main subject. Why are you so worked up about Zhang? She’s not worth your time. Leave her be, assist if necessary, and if she flounders… She flounders.”
“I know. I should forget we met and leave Dorothea to her own devices, but…” Lynn uneasily rubbed her shoulders, absent-mindedly scratching at scars through her shirt. “I just can’t let go of that girl. I’m half-tempted to lock her in a room and demand answers. Lord, if I don’t figure out who she really is, I’ll go mental!”
You’re already going insane. Look at yourself. That girl has done nothing but exist and you’re falling apart by the seams. Your hands are trembling, and your teeth are clattering together like an out-of-tune instrument. You really are one of the most pathetic women I’ve ever met, and it’s my misfortune that I let you rope me into Baekyong as well. Some days, I truly despise you.
Wordlessly, Yeong-ae hooked a hand around Lynn’s nape and pulled her close. Their foreheads tapped together like a single key on a piano, and all the idiotic doctor could see was the disgraced mage who had run out of patience since yesterday. Lynn was too preoccupied to eat, to sleep in their bed, to focus—all because of that foolish girl.
Lynn exhaled, flushed scarlet in the cheeks. “E-Elaine—”
“Tonight, you’ll think about me and only me,” said Yeong-ae, growling almost, and she tightly gripped Lynn’s neck. “You, after all, are the reason why I have to wear these damned turtle-necks.”
“Elaine, wait—” The rest of her sentence was claimed by a set of aggressive lips.
It was brief, intense, yet ultimately unsatisfying.
Yeong-ae pulled away and stood, glowering down at her partner with contempt. “Now, stop fooling around and clean up. For once, I’ll make dinner.”
***
Uh oh, it was the final day of Gold Rush. If I didn’t successfully complete an Appeal by midnight tonight, I would forever be trapped in Gray and my life at Baekyong Academy was done for!
…Yeah, like I already established, passing or failing this test was of no concern to me. I used my Appeals as an excuse to know the roster better, and hey, I produced notable results: establishing a relationship with Chae Yo-han, Lynn Asche, and maybe Instructor Sung too. However, I couldn’t exactly claim a total victory over yesterday’s Appeal with Lee Yoon-ho.
I mean, reaching out to the main target I was supposed to befriend was nerve-wracking, but…
Yoon-ho was simpler than I thought he’d be.
His Appeal was: find so-and-so book in the library. Normally, I thought it’d be easy. While Baekyong had tens of thousands of books, they had an electronic system that told you the location of every registered title. Key word: registered. The book he asked for? Not registered, and all unregistered books were dumped in the basement.
The librarian said they had over seven-thousand unregistered books, and no one had the courage to tackle the mountain.
I wasn’t gonna be the first, so within ninety minutes, I forfeited the Task. A part of me wanted to use a Veto, but I knew Yoon-ho was probably gonna ask for another unregistered title. Why bother in that case? I had a better insight into his personality, even if that small glimpse was kinda depressing.
In terms of Appeals, though, that left Tae Jun-hyeok.
Yes, I was intentionally forgetting Tak Hwa-yeon for a good reason.
She still kept messing with me. More trash had been piled against my door! At this point, I felt so horrible for the cleaning staff ‘cause I didn’t have to describe the problem anymore. They automatically knew. Oh, in the middle of the night, one of her fucking goons decided to pump rock music at full volume! They had fucked off before I could kick their ass, but least I busted their speaker instead. This scratched the iceberg.
All my meals came from the convenience store as my trust in our dining halls plummeted to new lows. My textbooks—that I’d also fetched from the library yesterday—arrived vandalized on nearly every page. Once, a couple of asshats tried to pickpocket my phone and wallet. I resorted to using the communal showers at odd hours during the night to avoid getting “pranked.” Overall, my day-to-day life was pretty shit.
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Tak Hwa-yeon was creative with her orders. Annoyingly creative. If I had half the tolerance, I would’ve broken down already.
I would right now if I didn’t like the food so much.
<...You keep coming here,> said the convenience store’s manager, an unassuming middle-aged man, but he spoke like a timid ten-year-old. He manned the register, keeping his eyes on the machine and my lunch rather than me.
I nodded.
The manager nodded a few times like I was asking an aggressive question.
I’d seen people like him before: ordinary men and women rendered meek ‘cause of the wealthy kids ‘round them. He wasn’t looking me in the eyes. He wasn’t speaking normally. He was hunched over, shoulders bunched inward, hands squeezed together. Small, weak, submissive—a perfect example of Pavlov’s dog brought to real life. Instead of a ringing bell, it was tongues and fists.
He nodded.
He nodded.
I did my best to swallow my frown.
I looked at the rest of his store. Clean-looking. Well-stocked.
The manager lifted his head up, quiet, but scared. He didn’t know where I was going with this.
And, of course, the victims typically didn’t want help because the fear of backlash was more powerful than the hope for a better life. And for most of them, they had family and loved ones to provide for. They had no excess to rely on.
I told the manager, I pushed my lunch forward.
Nodding, he quickly scanned and bagged my items. I paid as promised.
What else was I expecting? Tak Hwa-yeon was getting to me—this whole fucking school was getting to me—the endless games, the harassment, the looks, the constant paranoia. The whole school was filled with money, the heirs and heiresses born in shitty wombs of gold, and they lived like animals.
And the best part? Classes hadn’t even started yet.
Just…being here was making me sick. I—
[You have received a notification]
[Kim Min-jae]
You need to return to campus now. Your dorm.
What? Why was he—? No, never mind!
[Dorothea Zhang]
thx!!!
Quickly, I took my lunch and ran out the doors.
***
Outside my dormitory, someone decided to throw a really early party.
There were at least a dozen students standing at the front, circling a small and rambunctious group of nitwits. They were cheering. Laughing. At times like these, you’d feel mild curiosity, but with Min-jae’s warning lingering at the back of my head, all I felt was dread. Why were they laughing so damn much? Why did they host a flash mob outside my dorm? Why—?
Before I breached the commotion, my foot stepped on something soft.
I looked down.
It was a t-shirt of Hwarang’s cool airship. Leo had gotten me that exact shirt and size to “make my story feel consistent.”
In my next step, I accidentally kicked a busted can: one of those weird drinks Victor had given me courtesy of his mom and sister. I hadn’t fully broken into that stash yet.
I looked around. CDs flittered the pavement, many of them irreparably scratched or shattered. Kotone had painstakingly burned and labeled each one, hoping that I would “see the light” in J-pop.
Pages of ruined manhwas and comics joined the music. Heh, I was so busy that I didn’t have time to read ‘em. Morgan was gonna be so disappointed in me.
Everywhere.
My stuff was everywhere. Dirty, broken, damaged, tainted.
The tea-set Chunhua had given me, white stuffing burning in the sunlight and the [Yokai] laying dead, the replica of Yomiya Yasuyuki’s sword looking just like Rei's [Broken Swords]—they had destroyed everything.
The crowd suddenly parted.
They found me.
Standing in the middle of the group was the green-haired bitch who’d orchestrated this. She sat on a pile of my clothes—new, recently worn, filthy—and cheerily waved like we’d been best friends for years. Surrounding her were five of her goons, some I’d already met and others who were gonna wish they didn’t meet me today.
This…
Tak Hwa-yeon thought this was the final escalation? She thought this was the right fucking action after barely getting a reaction throughout the last five days?
Well, I’ll give her one thing: she got a reaction.
Someone put a hand on my shoulder.
"Let go of my shoulder, Min-jae."
I heard him gulp.
"Or I’ll kill you."
He released me.
Hwa-yeon smiled and clapped her hands.
She pulled out a gold necklace with a pair of beautiful wings as its pendant. It swayed like a stopwatch, but instead of hypnotizing me, the world turned a few shades darker.
I sniffled.
Hwa-yeon continued to let the necklace swing.
My necklace fell into a dirty puddle of God-knows-fucking-what. I saw my own murky reflection against the surface. Me, in all my ugly glory. I couldn’t admire my pathetic expression before a foot stomped on the necklace—one of her goons who decided to be extra special today. What a kiss-ass.
I…
I always hated these people.
Lives were a toy to them.
Suffering, despair, grief—they pleasured themselves through schadenfreude.
They didn’t care how many lives they stepped on, crushed, as long as they received their next kick.
The addiction came from rich fuckers like everyone here. It came from the adults, always heartless. It came from the systems, the governments—and so, our tears and blood kept the gears greased and turning all so it could happen to our kids and grandkids until our existences were rendered obsolete.
I hate the world we live in.
If I really wanted…
If I had a choice…
<...Duel,> I whispered, barely alive.
Hwa-yeon leaned forward, intrigued.
The bitch grinned, looking less like a girl and more like a fucking witch.
Without fireworks or confetti, the Duel began.
***
“...Overseer, you’ve been quiet for the last few days,” said Rector, finding Alistair in his office. “Are you worried about your niece?”
Ali picked up a pen and began fiddling with it. “Of course. Baekyong is in many ways similar to her experience in High Home. While we did our best to work through those problems, they’ll rear their ugly heads eventually.”
“Well, from what I know about your family…” Rector looked at the various pictures on the walls. “The Shens are formidable in mind and body. Althea can handle her own state-of-mind, I hope, especially when your ‘good friend’ is apparently a doctor there.”
Lynn is another subject altogether, but… “My kids, Rector, are like a bomb. Inert in most cases, yes. But if you push them too far or push the wrong buttons, they’ll explode. Badly. Leo experienced it for herself.”
Rector gulped, nervously laughing. “I know, I heard. Personally, I’m glad Althea is infiltrating Baekyong and not Alexander. Knowing his capacity of violence, I’d be afraid for everyone.”
Ali stopped fiddling with the pen and looked up at Rector. “Excuse me?”
“Alex has clearly proven to be a bit of a…loose cannon when it comes to fights. He nearly choked Aiden out during the Scare.”
Ali put the pen down. “...My niece has a history of assault. In middle-school, in High Home, she impaled a girl’s hand using a pencil.” (“Pardon?”) “Here, in Ordo, she fractured a boy’s skull.”
Rector flattened his lips. "I understand your point. Both of your children indulge in violence."
"You misunderstand. Alexander is the pacifist."