Chapter 47

33. Moving (3)

"He was a foolish man. Though I feel sorry for my mother, he should have met a stronger and tougher woman."

Defender briefly commented on his father.

"A man who lived and died in a flower garden."

His younger brother's expression was more caustic.

Defender sighed and said,

"My father was a so-called good man. He couldn't say no. He loved lending money he couldn't afford to give. When my mother said something, he would argue that people's feelings were more important than money."

As soon as he finished speaking, his brother made a disgusted face and added,

"I really hated my father. Later, I wouldn't even look at him. How could someone be so gullible?"

I can imagine what kind of person he was.

A good-natured person.

A carefree and considerate person.

But someone who couldn't take care of his own interests and eventually sank deeper and deeper into despair, with no one to help him.

Someone who tried to ignore the people he had helped pointing fingers at him later.

"He never managed to save a penny in his life. The inheritance from my grandfather was all he had. What could he do with that money? We were three brothers. Of course, he couldn't even dream of owning a house, so we moved from one rental to another. Later, when we couldn't even afford the rent, we searched for cheap monthly rentals in unknown neighborhoods. Our already meager living became even harder. My brother even struggled with whether to go to college."

"You couldn't prepare for war, could you?"

Defender turned to look at me.

"Do you know what that man said?"

"I don't know."

"War doesn't start so easily. I know the Chinese well. They are a peaceful people."

Defender snorted.

"When the missiles fell, he didn't know what to do. The water and electricity were cut off, and the government told us to go to the shelters, but there was nothing there. Brother, how was it there?"

"Well, I was dragged to the bathroom and almost got raped."

"That's the kind of hellish place we lived in. Just then, the owner of the house we lived in contacted us."

"You mean the landlord of the house you lived in?"

"Yeah."

"What was his relationship to you?"

"Father's college classmate. But he lived a completely different life from my father."

I thought of Defender's mansion.

It was old and in disrepair, with damage and dirt everywhere, but it still had traces of considerable wealth.

After all, if he had lived a life completely opposite to his father, who gave everything away, he must have accumulated a lot of money.

"He was the kind of person who would occasionally call my father, who was doing better than him, and rub it in. Like, 'I just bought my son a Porsche. I bought an apartment. I went on a trip abroad. Later, I got divorced and had a mistress.' He was a vulgar person who would even say things like that."

Defender's face showed open contempt.

"After the war started, that man asked my father if my mother and brother were doing well and offered us a detached house."

"..."

"To live in a comfortable house instead of the ruined Seoul, we had to work as servants. We cooked, cleaned, and did repairs. But something felt off, didn't it?"

Defender examined the sharp edge of the blade, reflecting the light.

"When we got there, there were only men, and they were all dark-skinned."

In fact, when the landlord offered the detached house and asked about his wife and daughter, I could read his intentions.

It was a very common and obvious story.

After the war, it was a common tragedy for people to be lured into comfortable lives and then devoured.

The main victims were usually women and children.

It's a quiet admission that the morality Koreans pride themselves on isn't much different from that of other countries.

"So I told my father to leave. I had a bad feeling. I wasn't the only one. My brother also said the same thing."

"I was in the bathroom, and as soon as I finished, someone started knocking on the door."

"But that foolish man got angry instead. I had never seen him get so angry. I got slapped by my father for the first time that day. And eventually, what we feared happened..."

Defender's brother, who had been lying on the sofa, sat up and pushed back his fallen hair with his fingers.

A deep scar was clearly visible on the side of his forehead.

"When I got there, my father was tied up and beaten. My mother was dead, hit by a shovel. This guy was unconscious, hit on the head with a shovel, and a few men were trying to take off his clothes."

"That son of a bitch couldn't even take off a woman's bra."

Defender's brother sneered.

"So what happened?"

"What do you think happened?"

Defender smiled and spun the sharp knife on his fingertip.

"I killed them all. The landlord, his brother, his friend, his legitimate son, his mistress's young brat, and even the dog."

"..."

"My father collapsed and cried, but I felt no sympathy. His foolishness had ruined our family's life and led to our destruction. I treated my brother, buried my mother, and cleaned up the bodies, but my father didn't even acknowledge it."

Defender sighed and looked up at the sky.

"The next day, he was dead."

Defender looked at me with a relieved expression.

"That's the story. Are you satisfied now?"

Defender got out of the car.

A cigarette was already in his mouth.

"Stay here. I'll be back after a quick round."

"..."

He had a story.

Anyway, we were definitely getting closer.

Didn't he say at the theme park that day that he would tell me about his family after we got closer?

It's not a pleasant story.

Seeing someone's scars.

It's not the kind of content that would make it to the popular posts on Viva! Apocalypse! after all.

Adding another tragedy to a world already full of them is like adding water to water.

As I was lost in bitter thoughts, my brother poked my shoulder.

"Ouch."

I turned around, complaining, and she immediately thrust her tablet screen at me.

[Brother still loves Dad.]

"What? What are you talking about?"

Her fingers moved quickly.

[That's why he can't even collect the body.]

"No, it's not like he's a dried fish, leaving his father's body out for over two years?"

[He said he's afraid of Dad's body. He doesn't have the courage to face it. He loved him too much. Or, more accurately, he feels like he killed him. You know, if I had just said one thing, it might have been different.]

"..."

[Does Skeleton not have a dad?]

"He's an orphan."

"Oh."

[That's what I thought.]

"What are you implying?"

[Anyway, help Brother a bit. He's more sensitive than he looks. He'll definitely regret it later, won't he?]

"How am I supposed to help him?"

"Maybe a word that touches his soul?"

My brother looked at me intently.

She had never looked at me for so long, let alone with such earnest, pleading eyes.

"I know. Skeleton may seem like a boring guy who only does weird beatboxing and hangs out with a weird guy, but he's actually a deep person."

She blushed slightly and looked away.

"I can read people, you know."

She wiped the blush away and looked at me again.

"Still, I don't think he's 197cm, 100kg, and 30cm."

"Stop bringing that up."

I smiled bitterly, thinking to myself.

Ask Defender to say something?

To this incompetent team leader who couldn't even take care of a single teammate?

I must have misjudged him.

But there was something.

This feeling of wanting to do something.

Of course, there's no guarantee it will work.

Given my poor social skills, it might even damage our relationship.

But I was asked.

And a suitable idea popped into my head like a lightbulb in Edison's mind.

"Then I'll be back in a bit."

I unbuckled my seatbelt.

"What?! Where?!"

"My words aren't exactly eloquent."

"So?"

"So, if we just bring your father's body back, we can move and decide what to do next, right?"

"You're right, but..."

"There's a stretcher or something, right?"

"Yeah."

"Get it out."

Although it was a long way around by car, it was only 13 minutes on foot.

If I ran, it would take about 5 minutes.

Just looking at the theme park in the distance, you can tell how close it is.

I might run into soldiers, and carrying a body isn't exactly appealing, but this is the best I can do.

I lost my family to monsters and have vague memories of them.

Those memories were filled with hatred.

That hatred was the source of my strength.

But how must it feel for someone who had a family and whose memories still live in their heart?

It must be incredibly precious.

Most importantly, I remember.

How that cold and ruthless Defender avoided going to see his father's body just because he didn't want to see his face.

That emotion wasn't just simple contempt, as his sister said.

Perhaps, because he loved him as much as he hated him, he was left in a state where he couldn't do anything.

If he really hated him, he would have abandoned him like the children who waited for their father to die.

"Hey, Skeleton, what are you doing?"

Defender's voice came through the communication device.

I ignored it.

Soon, Defender's voice came again.

"I heard from my sister. I know you're doing something pointless. This is our family's business. I like you, Skeleton, but I can't tolerate you interfering in family matters. Come back before things get complicated."

"Let me ask one thing."

"What?"

"It might be a cheap shot, but your father was a bad dad, right?"

"Yeah, he was a bad dad."

"But was he a bad father?"

"That's..."

I don't think so.

Seeing how he still binds this ruthless brother and sister even in death.

My story ends here, as I lack the eloquence to continue.

I have nothing more to say, and I don't want to.

"Skeleton."

Defender spoke again.

It seemed he had made up his mind.

"I appreciate it, but this is our family's problem. Right now..."

"Why do you think Dad liked it there?"

His sister interrupted.

Her intervention seemed to catch even Defender off guard.

"Da Jung."

He called his sister's name, which he had never said in front of me.

"I hated Dad, but I know why he went there and wanted to stay. He had memories there."

"Memories?"

"Do you remember when Dad took us to the amusement park below our house?"

"..."

"Dad said that was the time he could take the best care of us, the time our family was the most comfortable."

"Is that important?"

"I don't know. I don't believe in superstitions. But maybe Dad also missed those times. Maybe he thought those days would come again if he stayed here. That's just my thought."

Defender said nothing.

It seemed he had turned off the microphone, as I couldn't even hear his breathing.

I now see the body, bathed in the full moon's light.

"Father, that's right..."

The body, which I had severed one arm from, swayed gently like grass and looked down at the amusement park below.

I lowered the body, wrapped it in a sack, and placed it on the stretcher.

"Phew."

I decided to return as quickly as possible.

As I scanned the downhill path with eyes now accustomed to the darkness, Defender's voice came through again.

"Fanatic."

I heard him click his tongue.

"Damn. Awakened are involved too."