Chapter 98: Memory

Wolf Fang stopped writing, glancing at me nervously.

“Done?”

“Yes.”

I snatched the paper, scanning the list.

Barely ten names.

No, for ten years to pass and still have ten contacts was impressive.

But most names were new to me—not executive-level.

“All these were Organization members? What ranks?”

“Y-Yes. They were under me.”

“No wonder I don’t remember.”

Too low-level—tricky for me.

“Skills?”

“Team leader level, at least.”

“Subpar, then.”

My harsh jab didn’t faze him—he couldn’t argue.

Sure, they’d be A-rank, but by my standards, that was trash.

Still, not useless—good for numbers.

“But you barely contact them, what, once a year?”

“Yes.”

“So, no guarantee they’ve lived clean.”

“True.”

“Fine. Better than starting from scratch.”

I’d check later if they were useful or jailbait.

As I pocketed the list, Wolf Fang asked cautiously.

“What’s this all about? Can I know more?”

I’d followed orders out of fear, but he was at his limit.

Heroes, arrests, the Association—none made sense.

Selling my secrets meant death.

He knew that from my villain days.

But my current words and demeanor felt far from villainous.

He needed to know what happened to decide his next move.

I pondered.

Didn’t plan to tell, but if this worked out, we’d be tied again.

Some sharing was needed.

So I summed it up.

Locked in Zero—Chain, freed by a deal.

Sentence reduction terms, Academy life, and the new Organization’s rise.

He clutched his forehead, head aching.

“Too wild. I can’t keep up. How’d this happen?”

“Life’s like that.”

My calm reply prompted him.

“What’s your plan now?”

“Dunno. Even as a villain, I didn’t plan far. My goal was rebellion—treason, revolution, collapse.

Doesn’t matter now.”

More accurately, I’d found something beyond “rebellion.”

But no need to spill my true motives to someone I didn’t fully trust.

I brushed it off.

He asked the big one.

“…What about me?”

“You’d get fifty years in court. Caught by me, jail’s certain. Two choices.”

I raised two fingers.

“Go to prison with broken limbs? Or slave away, do some community service, and clean your record?”

Two choices, but really one.

Even the second wasn’t appealing. Could get used and backstabbed, but still better than the first—ironic.

“‘Slave’ is a bit…”

“Better than ‘criminal scum.’”

He bowed his head.

“I’ll do it. Slave or whatever—better than jail.”

“Good choice.”

He looked up.

“One last thing.”

I frowned.

“I’m a professor now, so you think I’m soft, asking all these questions?”

“S-Sorry. Just one more.”

His desperate look made me nod.

“Your name. Never heard of it.”

“Oh.”

I nodded, realizing my slip.

Been out of the villain game too long.

“Jeong Ho-cheol.”

As he repeated “Jeong Ho-cheol,” I added.

“The Association’s sending people. Go to jail for now. If this pans out, I’ll get you out.”

“Ugh. Got it.”

Business done, I stood.

“You didn’t doze off, right?”

I brought my watch to my mouth.

“Public opinion’s sour lately. To boost heroes, they’ll lean on that prickly Swordmaster. Can you handle it? You’re not heroes—businessmen, politicians. Think big.”

My voice dripped with scorn.

I’d been jerked around by Association higher-ups, barely holding my own.

Now, the power dynamic was shifting.

In a barbaric age, strength was order, the law’s guardian.

“I’m flexible for the public good. Which side’s better for you, for citizens’ safety and peace?”

So-hee and Wolf Fang, watching my gleeful declaration, couldn’t shake the thought: The villain's still a villain.

“Think hard.”

* * *

After handing Wolf Fang to Association agents, So-hee and I headed back to the Academy.

“…Think they’ll approve?”

So-hee looked worried about my plan, but I was confident.

“The Association’s not heroes.”

I knew their executives better than anyone.

Too much to lose, they couldn’t partner up.

So I didn’t offer a hand—I opened a new path.

They couldn’t refuse that.

“That’d be good.”

As the car rolled along, I leaned back, recalling memories.

“Huh? Oh!”

I jolted, startling So-hee at the wheel.

“What? What!”

“I remembered.”

“What?”

“The guy tied to that case.”

I’d thought they all died, so I didn’t dwell.

Digging deeper, there was a connection.

The new Organization’s moves overlapped with it.

I sifted through distant memories.

* * *

Thud—thud—thud—

I strode through a dark corridor.

White-masked, I led, followed by blood-soaked executives.

My mask and shirt stayed spotless.

I’d killed the most villains, but that wasn’t enough to stain me.

Eyes fixed on the corridor’s end, I asked?

“Today’s schedule?”

Someone answered instantly.

“Two hours from now, a deal at Branch 31.”

“Volume?”

“320 kilos, 150 boxes.”

“Big one.”

“Yes. And the hostages from today are being valued.”

“Scientists, right? Specialists—charge five times the usual.”

“Yes.”

“Fill the dead executive’s spot immediately.”

“Yes.”

Reaching the corridor’s end, I stopped, glancing at a door.

Without hesitation, I opened it and entered.

A bare room, no furniture or decor.

In a corner, a dozen kids huddled.

The oldest was maybe ten, all in drab, hospital-like gray clothes.

They tensed, shrinking at my sudden appearance.

“What are these?”

An executive answered.

“Test subjects from the New World Trait Liberation Society’s lab.”

“I see.”

Scanning them, I judged shortly.

“Barely breathing. Walking corpses.”

Their faint life force, despite many voices, intrigued me.

The end result of illegal, inhumane experiments.

That was my entire impression.

Losing interest, I turned.

“They’ll die soon. Feed them well and send them off.”

“Understood.”

As I moved to leave, I stopped.

Among the dying kids, a fierce killing intent stood out—unlike anything in my Organization.

Killing a few couldn’t produce that.

Either they’d killed dozens, or endured worse.

I turned back, spotting the source.

An orphan, no different from the rest.

A girl, barely five.

Her life force was weak—better than the others, but while they’d die in a week, she’d last maybe a month.

I crouched, looking down at her.

Thought she might be a spy or assassin mixed in, but—

“Nah.”

Her skills were trash.

But she piqued my curiosity.

Her eyes mirrored mine when I woke and looked in the mirror before masking up.

She was the only orphan here not scared of me.

So I asked?

“Who are you?”

She hesitated, then answered.

“Test Subject D-21.”

“Is that so? Got a dream?”

“Getting out of there.”

“You did, then.”

She shook her head.

“Was gonna leave with my friend, but they died. Got a shot, their eyes wouldn’t stop bleeding. They called it a failure, disposal…”

She met my eyes but wasn’t seeing me.

“My friend died. Because of me.”

Her voice was heavy with despair, but my dry questions continued.

“So that dream’s gone. Other dreams?”

“…Revenge. They killed my friend, so I’ll kill them.”

I snorted, openly mocking.

“You’ll die in a couple months. How?”

“Don’t know. But I have to.”

Her resolve was unshakable.

Even if she died tomorrow, she’d live for revenge.

I stroked my chin.

“After revenge, get the next dream?”

Her words stopped for the first time.

As she faltered, I said knowingly.

“None.”

I turned, nodding to an executive who stepped up.

“The remnants—any ransom talks?”

He spoke into the radio.

“Yes. They’ll pay five times. The negotiator says they’d take more—”

I cut him off.

“No need. Kill them all.”

“Yes.”

No questions, no objections to my sudden order.

My word was law, heavier than dozens of lives.

Faint screams echoed somewhere.

“Now, no one left to avenge. What next?”

She couldn’t answer, just blinked wide-eyed.

“Why?”

“Asking questions with questions—nasty habits.”

I clicked my tongue but answered.

“You remind me of myself as a kid. Back then, I wanted someone to help.”

I sometimes wondered—if someone had reached out, would things be different?

No one did, so here I was.

“I was like that, so others might be.”

“Just for that?”

“For small help, small reasons are enough.”

A big deal to her, but to me, nothing.

Like tossing coins to a beggar—no grand effort needed.

My kindness was just a whim.

“I know how you feel—miserable, awful, barely living. That might make you strong fast. But…”

I shook my head.

“Dying in months, living like that’s too sad.”

Looking at her blank face, I added.

“Killing’s no good. Means or ends.”

Pointless advice for a terminal case, but she listened quietly.

“Killers" means to forget other options. Killers for ends forget how to move forward.”

Only she felt it—my advice was more a confession of regret.

“Not a great choice if you want to stop and turn back.”

I stopped myself.

“What am I saying? Whatever. Drop revenge, find something you want. If nothing, write a diary.”

With that, I left.

* * *

My story done, So-hee, driving, stared blankly, missing the light change.

“…That’s it?”

I nodded, uneasy.

“What else? I wasn’t raising a dying kid. Sent her to a facility, didn’t think twice.”

Who’d guess she survived?

“Seems you’ve got more forgotten memories.”

“…Maybe. Recalling this was a miracle.”

It only came up tying her no-kill stance to our murder talk.

“If she’s the one, I’ll have to persuade her.”

“Feeling responsible?”

I turned to her.

“Why would I?”

“Huh?”

Not her guardian, didn’t inspire her greatly.

Her actions weren’t my burden.

“Then why persuade?”

“No guilt or anything.”

I leaned on the window, flashing a villainous grin.

“If I sweet-talk her, the rest of her goons fall in line.”

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