Chapter 3

By now, Ji-i could easily pick most ordinary locks with just two hairpins. Even with an electronic door lock, she knew dozens of ways to figure out the password, and she could slip an object from someone else’s pocket into her own without leaving the slightest trace.

She also knew where to strike to cause an opponent severe pain and how to overcome physical disadvantages, as well as ways to hold her own in close combat for more than ten minutes without being overwhelmed. That didn’t mean she intended to use any of those skills in the real world.

Unless absolutely necessary.

And it wasn’t as though she’d learned only illegal or questionable things. Over the past eight years, all paid for with taxpayers’ money, Ji-i had acquired skills that allowed her to make virtually every kind of clothing, as well as makeup and prosthetic-makeup certifications comparable to professional cosmetic techniques. She had also obtained certifications in everything from Korean cuisine to desserts, including baking.

She’d even learned carpentry, so there was hardly anything left to say.

“I suppose even if you have experience with men, modern medicine is so advanced that it wouldn’t necessarily be a problem. But there’s really no need to go that far…… Hey, hey!”

“…….”

Since Arang seemed to have no intention of getting to the point, Ji-i decided to simply ignore her and keep walking with an expressionless face.

She had also learned inside the facility, along with all those certifications, that the most effective way not to reveal anxiety or fear wasn’t to forcibly pretend to be composed, but to appear indifferent and unconcerned.

But perhaps eight years hadn’t been enough to teach Ji-i how to disguise herself completely, down to her very bones.

Because when Arang provoked her, her subconscious still reacted first.

“I’ll kill your grandfather.”

“…….”

Just as the saying went that once a Marine, always a Marine, perhaps a soft-hearted person remained soft-hearted forever.

In the end, Ji-i stopped again, abruptly turned around, and glared at her.

“It’s up to you.”

This woman really hadn’t changed even a little.

“What do you want?”

“I’ve been keeping your grandfather alive all this time for your sake, and you don’t even know enough to be grateful? You ungrateful bitch.”

Maybe she’s become even more self-centered and devoid of conscience over the past eight years.

She had always been like this.

Arang’s self-centered way of thinking had been severe even back then. She interpreted everything according to what she wanted to believe. Clever and calculating, Arang would deny any wrongdoing whenever she was caught, acting as though she had been treated unfairly—and she seemed to genuinely believe her own version of events.

Because of her extreme selfishness, Arang appeared to have completely forgotten why Ji-i had spent eight years in confinement.

Even if Arang really had been taking perfect care of Ji-i’s adoptive grandfather, she apparently didn’t understand that it wasn’t some extraordinary favor but, in a sense, simply the decent thing to do.

No. Even if she had been looking after Grandpa, the exchange still wouldn’t have been fair to me.

But since this concerned her adoptive grandfather’s life or death, Ji-i wasn’t going to calculate every little thing down to the last penny.

“…….”

At this point, they could simply settle things neatly and go their separate ways.

Provided that Arang really had taken care of Grandpa.

However, Ji-i knew better than anyone that the possibility was fifty-fifty.

“Should I call the hospital right now and tell them to discharge him?”

Ji-i now understood that Arang’s character had been rotten from the very beginning, including the way she used her phone to threaten people. She wished she had realized it sooner. If she had, she wouldn’t have spent all those years shedding tears and suffering in Arang’s place.

“…….”

“Then that old man really will die, you know?”

“You really have been taking care of Grandpa all this time?”

Her adoptive grandfather was a homeless man who had neither a known first name nor surname. Ji-i had never once heard his real name.

She had asked him before, but for some reason, he had firmly kept his mouth shut and refused to answer.

From what Ji-i had heard through various channels, Grandpa had apparently been abandoned by his children in his old age and kept silent because he didn’t want to become a burden to them.

Ji-i had never learned exactly what twists and turns had led him to that situation. But she had respected anything Grandpa was uncomfortable with and never forced him to talk.

As a result, all she knew was that, just like Ji-i herself, he was someone who could disappear from the streets without a trace, with no one left who would mourn him.

“And if I have?”

Arang was really claiming that she’d been taking care of such a man all this time?

“You?”

I don’t believe it.

If she did believe it, that would mean seven and a half years—eight years by the calendar—had all been wasted.

Ji-i gave a hollow laugh and stared directly at Arang.

“Who else would it be if not me?”

“…….”

What exactly is she plotting?

Then, at some point, Ji-i’s eyes narrowed.

With her eyes half-lidded and an uncertain expression on her face, she studied Arang carefully.

“I can make the call right now……”

Whether Arang had actually cared for Grandpa or not, it seemed certain that she at least knew what had happened to him.

Otherwise, there would be no reason for Arang to keep bringing him up and using him to pressure Ji-i every time she opened her mouth.

“What do you want?”

In the end, Ji-i decided to believe only that much—that Arang was likely to know where her adoptive grandfather was—and asked her directly.

“So, do you have no experience?”

Arang asked her another question instead.

“I don’t know.”

Rather than not knowing, perhaps that was simply the truth.

It was just that shame prevented Ji-i from saying it herself.

Come to think of it, I still have some shame left? I thought I’d gotten rid of that a long time ago. Hmph.

“You don’t know?”

“…….”

“You’re saying you’ve never slept with a man?”

“I haven’t.”

Ji-i answered Arang firmly.

Her first experience hadn’t been with a man in the ordinary sense, so there was nothing else she could say.

On the very first night she entered the facility, Ji-i experienced something she had never imagined possible. It went beyond simple violence.

Yet no one was punished.

Ji-i’s misfortune was that the leader of the cell she was assigned to was someone who was utterly cruel. Even the facility staff were afraid of that person and tended to keep their distance.

The next day, Ji-i was taken to the hospital and forced to remain there for treatment.

And even after she was discharged, the nightmare began again.

If she resisted, she was the one who paid the price.

After repeatedly being hospitalized and discharged, Ji-i gradually became numb to everything.

She had felt overwhelming fear, but little by little, she chose to become indifferent.

Just endure it somehow.

At least until the cell leader finds someone else to target.

The cell leader was serving a life sentence.

So rather than wishing for that person to disappear, Ji-i became someone who desperately waited for another victim to take her place—a profoundly inhuman mindset forced upon her by the circumstances.

To Ji-i, the facility had been a jungle capable of changing even a person’s entire sense of right and wrong.

In any case, she had counted down the days until she could finally be free.

Unfortunately, that day did not come as quickly as she’d hoped.

Even someone utterly rotten wasn’t necessarily a psychopath; they could still have emotions.

As a result, the cell leader’s favoritism and obsession toward Ji-i grew stronger with each passing day.

Ironically, that eventually became an advantage for Ji-i.