#097
After entering the room, Yoo Seong-woo took a deep breath and turned on the light. The interior, which had been dark despite it being daytime due to the absence of windows, brightened to reveal the entire view.
“This was… the workshop.”
The workshop of the one who created Yoo Seong-woo. It was very spacious and packed with all kinds of equipment. Even Yeon Tae-soo, who didn’t know much about android technology, could tell how impressive it was.
“So this is where you were born.”
When he casually remarked this, Yoo Seong-woo turned to look at him with surprised eyes. His expression revealed all his emotions.
“It is where you were born, isn’t it?”
He still seemed preoccupied with the fact that he was an android. In truth, Yeon Tae-soo no longer cared.
“Seong-woo.”
Though his hair wasn’t even disheveled, Yeon Tae-soo brushed it aside as an excuse to subtly caress his face.
“With such a big heart, whatever you are… what does it matter?”
Yeon Tae-soo didn’t know that human emotions could grow this large. His feelings had grown so enormous that they surpassed even himself.
“The emotion is so vast that such things are nothing. Just as a speck of dust in the universe doesn’t make it any less the universe.”
With love so immense, nothing else mattered. Would a great sun cool if sprinkled with water? Would the sea dry up if a spoonful was removed?
The fact that Yoo Seong-woo was an android had now become an utterly trivial matter.
Only his health remained an issue as significant as this love, and Yeon Tae-soo was conscious of his android nature only because it was related to his physical condition.
Yoo Seong-woo, who had been gazing at him blankly, suddenly burst into laughter. He seemed relaxed.
“Sometimes I’m surprised when you say things so similar to what I feel.”
“And sometimes I’m surprised by how you always seem to say just what I want to hear.”
Though he spoke sincerely, Yoo Seong-woo laughed. Since he simply enjoyed seeing Yoo Seong-woo laugh, Yeon Tae-soo said nothing more. He just smiled back.
Yoo Seong-woo carefully examined the creator’s workshop. He checked which machines turned on and tried operating those that did. Yeon Tae-soo also inspected every corner of the workshop.
Occasionally, messages came from Kim Ji-heon. He complained that he was overwhelmed dealing with the media attacks alone.
「Still, it’s fortunate. The terrorist incident seems to have overshadowed it.」
Yoo-hyun’s appearance was by no means a small scandal, but it couldn’t compete with terrorism. Especially terrorism targeting soldiers. There was an abundance of people angered by the fact that those who should be protecting the country were being subjected to terrorist attacks.
「There’s even a rumor that the Ministry of Defense distributed fake footage. They’re saying all the videos and photos of Yoo-hyun taken by reporters at that time are fake.」
The implication was that it was something the Ministry of Defense had done to cover up the terrorism.
「Since they know the ministry has a bad relationship with you, sir, there’s also talk that they spread fake videos and photos to frame you.」
The person presumed to be Yoo-hyun disappeared without a trace after the terrorist incident. At least, that’s how it appeared to the public.
But wasn’t Eden still operating normally? People had no way of knowing that Kim Ji-heon was handling all of Yeon Tae-soo’s responsibilities while spitting blood.
Some were even angry, claiming he had exploited Yoo-hyun, a musician beloved by the public.
‘Well, that’s fortunate, I guess.’
Yoo Seong-woo’s face revelation ended up working in their favor. Not that it was particularly welcome.
His identity still shouldn’t be revealed. Yeon Tae-soo felt his power was insufficient. He had never thought this before, but his authority was inadequate to protect Yoo Seong-woo.
He needed enough power to at least overpower someone like the minister, but that was difficult at present. That was all that frustrated him.
How much time had passed? After searching thoroughly without significant results, Yoo Seong-woo sighed and sat down in a chair. Yeon Tae-soo knelt before him and held his hands.
“Let’s look slowly. Don’t be too disappointed if we don’t find anything.”
“…Yes.”
As considerable time had passed, Yeon Tae-soo was contemplating whether to take him out for a meal or have someone nearby buy food, when Yoo Seong-woo suddenly stood up as if remembering something.
“…Perhaps…”
“Hmm?”
He left the workshop and headed somewhere with urgent steps. Yeon Tae-soo hastily followed him.
The place Yoo Seong-woo arrived at was a bedroom. The room, which seemed as abandoned as the living room, was quite spacious. Clothes were scattered on the bed, and books were strewn across the desk, suggesting it had been used until just before being abandoned.
Looking at the photo in the middle of the wall, Yeon Tae-soo realized where they were.
That face that closely resembled Yoo Seong-woo—which had caused many people to mistake one for the other—but which he alone could recognize as different. This was Yoo-hyun’s room.
The room, which had seemed frozen in time, quickly became disordered as Yoo Seong-woo touched it. He searched through drawers and flung open built-in cabinets. Not satisfied with that, he even flipped the bed. Yeon Tae-soo also followed him and examined the room thoroughly.
“There must be a portable memory chip somewhere. If not that, something that can hold files… or even an old-fashioned voice recorder.”
“Alright, I’ll look for it.”
In the midst of their busy search, Yeon Tae-soo discovered a small gap between the chair’s backrest and the floor cushion. When he forcefully widened the gap with his prosthetic hand, a chip the size of a fingernail emerged.
“Seong-woo.”
Yoo Seong-woo couldn’t readily accept it even after seeing it. His tension was evident. Yeon Tae-soo pulled his hand. He brought the unresisting hand to his chest.
The fingertips, which had grown cold from tension, gradually warmed up. Only when his body temperature fully returned did Yeon Tae-soo carefully place the chip in his palm.
Yoo Seong-woo took a deep breath and accepted the chip. The resolve on his face was both admirable and pitiful.
“May I borrow the tablet?”
The chip was inserted into the tablet that was immediately offered. Yeon Tae-soo tightly held his hand, which still showed signs of tension. He was grateful that his body temperature was higher than Yoo Seong-woo’s.
The portable memory chip contained a video. Yoo Seong-woo, though trembling, played it.
The screen was clear. But it was evident it had been filmed secretly. A leg in a suit, sitting on a sofa, was captured diagonally on one side of the screen. The sofa was the one in the living room of this house.
“Didn’t I tell you? That we must contribute to national defense even to this extent.”
A familiar voice was heard. Yeon Tae-soo unconsciously clenched his fist. It was the minister’s voice.
“Ah, you already took a lot from Mount Jiri. This was something we invested in…”
Another voice, fully displaying its servility, groveled. Judging from his words, he seemed to be someone from Yacheon Technology.
‘Mount Jiri?’
Reminded of the android massacre at Mount Jiri, Yeon Tae-soo gritted his molars. As the minister bent his waist, his face was finally revealed. A white spot near his mouth and an expressionless face.
“We’re short on black moonstone.”
The black moonstone shortage was a global issue. Wasn’t the minister’s mass slaughter of androids at Mount Jiri also to obtain black moonstone?
“If dozens of learning androids are not enough…”
“The black moonstone from one android is equivalent to 100 regular soldiers. You know that, right? It’s a matter of efficiency. They’re not even alive anyway…”
Yoo Seong-woo held his breath. Yeon Tae-soo also focused on the video, struggling to suppress his anger.
“The dozens of androids I disposed of at Mount Jiri weren’t made by Yacheon anyway, were they? If the illegal disposal is revealed, Yacheon will also face difficulties.”
“That’s…”
“Let’s both quietly bury this and move on. You’ve been supplying ‘Yoo’ all this time, so please give us the black moonstone from ‘Yoo’ that’s scheduled for disposal.”
Yeon Tae-soo reached out and unconsciously paused the video.
Looking to the side, he saw Yoo Seong-woo’s pale face in his field of vision. His appearance, as if he wasn’t even breathing, frightened him.
“Seong-woo.”
“…Please play it again.”
“We can watch it slowly…”
“I want to see it now.”
Unable to refuse such a resolute statement, he pressed the play button again. The disgusting face on the tablet’s narrow screen moved its lips again.
“You don’t need the entity before Yoo-hyun anymore, do you? We need that entity’s black moonstone.”
The entity before Yoo-hyun. Blood seemed to rush backward at the disrespectful term referring to Yoo Seong-woo. He heard the sound of his own molars grinding together. Yoo Seong-woo was actually calmer. Though pale, he was watching the video with eyes that weren’t excited.
“We’ve already suffered many losses…”
The person presumed to be from Yacheon spoke in a tone suggesting difficulty. They weren’t concerned about or sympathetic to Yoo Seong-woo. They were only thinking of using him to cover their losses or as a condition for a deal.
The minister was about to continue speaking when he looked toward the screen. The video then shook. The filmmaker, who had remained steady despite the shocking statements until now, seemed so startled that it was perceptible even beyond the screen.
“What are you… Hey.”
The video cut off as the minister approached.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
