#065
Byeolbyeol Animal Hospital looked no different from the outside when Yeon Tae-soo rushed there after receiving the call, except for Yeon Tae-soo’s subordinates densely guarding the entrance.
The man who had called Yeon Tae-soo handed him a box as he hurriedly entered.
“This, this wasn’t here until this morning, sir.”
As he spoke, Yeon Tae-soo slightly shook his arm to check the time. It was late afternoon now. If someone had left this box in the morning and disappeared, they would likely have already left the district.
He entered the animal hospital. Though it had been three weeks since Yoo Seong-woo sat in the chair behind the examination table, Yeon Tae-soo felt as if his scent still lingered.
Sitting in Yoo’s place, Yeon Tae-soo placed the box on the examination table and carefully opened it.
Inside was a wooden carving. A camellia flower.
‘I’ll buy that carving.’
He recalled how he had insisted on buying the piece Yoo Seong-woo was carving when they first met.
With trembling hands, Yeon Tae-soo picked up what lay beside the carving. It was a portable transmitter that looked like an old-fashioned pager.
This was something Yeon Tae-soo had previously given to Yoo Seong-woo.
‘Press this if anything happens.’
It was a device that transmitted the user’s physical condition to the sender, and Yoo Seong-woo had used it when the cleaning robot exploded, causing Yeon Tae-soo to rush to him.
He had given it to him with a promise to come running whenever there was danger, and now it was back in his hands.
If only these two items had arrived, he would have thought someone was threatening Yoo Seong-woo’s safety.
But seeing the words written on the bottom of the box, he was certain. This was sent directly by him.
I’m sorry. Please stay healthy.
The handwritten note matched Yoo Seong-woo’s handwriting. Comparing it with his notes left at the animal hospital confirmed it further.
“Ha, shit…”
He couldn’t help but laugh hollowly.
“You really know how to drive a person crazy.”
Why didn’t you just make me think you were dead? Then I might have at least pretended to give up.
Yeon Tae-soo gripped the transmitter with his metal prosthetic hand. As he squeezed his fist hard, the small rectangular object crumbled with a crunch, turning into a piece of scrap metal.
“This means… I have no choice but to keep looking for you.”
If Yoo had written that he didn’t want to see him anymore, Yeon Tae-soo would have respected that. But saying sorry? Telling him to stay healthy? How dare you worry about me?
Yoo Seong-woo, you made a mistake. After setting down the completely pulverized transmitter, he stood up.
“B-boss, where are you going?”
Yeon Tae-soo suddenly realized that though he thought he had been using all his strength to find Yoo Seong-woo, he had actually been holding back.
What if, just possibly, Yoo had left because he hated him enough to die? That thought had held him back.
But if Yoo was still concerned enough to worry about him, that meant his heart hadn’t completely left. In that case, it was worth trying.
This was the person who had remarkably revived his damaged senses. Until he found Yoo Seong-woo again and discovered what he had done to make a corpse-like man like himself feel such desire, he couldn’t give up.
“Now I’m going to start searching in earnest.”
Leaving behind the subordinate who blinked in confusion as if he had misheard, Yeon Tae-soo quickly walked away.
***
‘Are you hungry?’
On days when his adoptive father asked that question, a lavish table would be prepared. Young Yeon Tae-soo couldn’t hide his excitement on such days and would sit quietly at the table to eat.
For the young boy, hunger felt similar to excitement. A pounding sensation inside his stomach.
He was a child who could endure pain and boredom well. But why was hunger so hard to bear?
His adoptive father seemed to understand this well. Despite their modest living, he always made sure his son was well-fed.
After finishing their meal, his adoptive father would extend his hand.
‘Shall we go see Mom?’
That was the moment young Yeon Tae-soo feared most.
He barely remembered his biological parents’ faces. His biological father had run away as soon as he was born, and his biological mother, who had lived her life dedicated to the military, died shortly after giving birth to him.
His adoptive mother was kind to him. So kind that it seemed as if she had been created for the purpose of kindness.
Perhaps that was true in a way, as she was an android responsible for child-rearing. Her kindness had a purpose – to raise a child, to raise Yeon Tae-soo.
Maybe that’s why young Yeon Tae-soo consistently called her “Mother.” As if only that title could make her existence and the affection she gave him real.
‘When will Mother wake up?’
For years, his adoptive mother couldn’t get up. They said she was malfunctioning. It wasn’t unusual since she was an older model android to begin with.
‘Mother is an android. She’s a machine, so why is she dying?’
Young Yeon Tae-soo found it difficult to understand. Machines don’t die. And Mother is a machine. Yet, she seemed to be dying.
There were many humanoids that looked like people, but his adoptive mother looked especially human. Perhaps she was made that way to minimize the child’s sense of rejection.
It started with headaches, they said. Her head would hurt as if it was splitting, and even though androids could regulate their pain sensors, this pain couldn’t be controlled.
Then she began to lose her memories. His mother gradually lost her memories. At first, she forgot small things, but later she couldn’t recognize Yeon Tae-soo.
As her symptoms worsened, she began to freeze up. She would suddenly stop functioning at random times.
When his mother stopped moving, it was as if she alone had paused in time. Yeon Tae-soo was afraid of that. He couldn’t enter the stopped time where his mother lived alone.
The sight of his mother stiffly frozen with her eyes open was grotesque. Though she looked exactly like a human, the fact that she was motionless without even breathing was enough to evoke fear.
Looking at his frozen adoptive mother, young Yeon Tae-soo thought that androids and humans lived in different timelines.
Standing in front of the mansion with its firmly closed old iron gate, Yeon Tae-soo recalled his childhood memories.
He didn’t understand then why his adoptive mother beyond that door was so frightening, but now he did.
What frightened him was a sense of helplessness. The terror of not being able to jump into that frozen time and grab his mother’s hand.
The mansion remained the same as before. A two-story brick house built according to Third Era architecture. Being such an old house, broken parts were visible here and there.
When he pressed the doorbell next to the iron gate, there was movement inside, followed by a clunk as the gate opened.
Like the exterior, the interior remained unchanged. A house without warmth. Perhaps that was to be expected. No human lived here.
The empty living room, devoid of plants or decorations, contained a two-seater sofa with its leather completely decayed and cracked, and a wooden table in a completely mismatched color.
On the table was the room’s only decoration, a picture frame.
Yeon Tae-soo passed by without looking at the frame and stood in front of the master bedroom on the first floor. The door was open.
“Why don’t you ventilate this place?”
A man in his thirties with gloomy eyes, sitting in a chair, stared expressionlessly at Yeon Tae-soo.
“It’s been a while.”
Unlike his expression, his voice was affectionate. The disparity was almost bizarre. But Yeon Tae-soo smiled as if familiar with it.
“Aren’t you going to ask why I came?”
“You must have come because you need something.”
Yeon Tae-soo nodded at the obvious answer.
“You don’t like coming here, after all.”
At the man’s words, the smile slowly faded from Yeon Tae-soo’s face. He calmly met the man’s penetrating gaze.
He knew that gaze carried no particular meaning. It was merely focused, to listen to the conversation.
Indeed, as the man said, he hadn’t wanted to come here. This mansion was one of the spaces Yeon Tae-soo hated most, and the man before him was one of the people he despised the most.
He probably wouldn’t have come to this man even if he were dying. That showed how seriously he regarded the situation, and also that he had nowhere else to turn for help.
Yeon Tae-soo had never asked anyone for help before. That’s why he found it harder to understand himself. Why finding Yoo was so desperately important.
“…True. I wouldn’t have come unless it was urgent.”
“Is it an urgent matter?”
When he nodded, the man stood up. With a mechanical sound, four long robotic arms emerged from behind his back like giant spider legs.
As the man’s robotic arms moved, holograms appeared matching their movements. The holograms soon produced a map of the Republic of Korea. Beep, beep. Mechanical sounds emanated from the man’s body.
“Speak freely.”
Though his expression remained blank, his tone was affectionate. The man had always been affectionate toward him. Perhaps that’s why he couldn’t completely cut ties.
He sat in the opposite chair and crossed his legs. They say that for most humans, family is the closest. Not for him, though.
“Thank you… Father.”
The man’s face twisted strangely. Yeon Tae-soo knew it was a smile. How could he not? He had seen that face since childhood, when the man had picked him up and raised him.
“I need a favor.”
For the first time, he bowed his head. To his adoptive father.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
