#098
Silence filled the room. Yeon Tae-soo couldn’t say anything. He just quietly gazed at Yoo Seong-woo’s profile.
Seong-woo’s fingers on his knee slowly curled inward. Tae-soo placed his hand over Seong-woo’s, where blue veins were faintly visible. Only then did Seong-woo exhale softly.
What the video revealed was clear. Yacheon Technology had been providing black moonstone to the Ministry of Defense—by handing over functioning androids.
After a long silence, Seong-woo slowly opened his mouth.
“I know there’s only one way to obtain black moonstone. Getting approval from the Science Department.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Regardless of the purpose of the black moonstone or what kind of android would be made with it, approval from the Science Department was mandatory. Naturally, the process was complicated, and approval was rarely granted.
“But many people are obtaining black moonstone illegally.”
Android hunting didn’t happen without reason. The government couldn’t completely prevent illegal trade of black moonstone.
However, civilians breaking the law was entirely different from the Ministry of Defense colluding with a private company to trade black moonstone.
If this became known, the Minister would certainly suffer a major blow. This video was definitive evidence.
But Tae-soo was more concerned about Seong-woo than that. He himself was quite shocked, so the android in question must be feeling even worse.
“Yoo-hyun… my brother… seems to have been murdered.”
Despite his expression that looked like it might shatter at any moment, Seong-woo’s voice remained calm.
“Jirisan… you said. The place where androids were disposed of in large numbers.”
Tae-soo bit his lip. Although he had previously mentioned killing several androids, he hadn’t said it was at the Jirisan massacre.
Should he confess now? That he was actually present at that disposal—no, massacre site.
Even though he had been blackmailed, even though it was an unavoidable choice to save his comrades, the fact remained that he had killed numerous androids with his own hands.
But Tae-soo couldn’t bring himself to speak. How could he say it? That he was the same kind of human as the Minister.
Seong-woo would understand. If he made the pitiful excuse that there was no other way to save his comrades at the time, Seong-woo would nod and smile. Yet Tae-soo didn’t want to open his mouth. Although he had previously confessed to killing many androids, participating in a massacre carried a different weight of guilt.
He had already sinned against him and wounded him. He didn’t want to add anything more to that. He was already a sinner in Seong-woo’s eyes. Even if he couldn’t be perfect, there was no need to become worse.
“And if that wasn’t enough, they wanted to get even a little more black moonstone… That’s why my creator told me to run away. Because Yacheon, the investor… no, the Minister wanted to take the black moonstone in my heart.”
Tae-soo couldn’t respond to his words, spoken softly as if talking to himself. He could only grip Seong-woo’s curled hands on his knee more tightly.
Seong-woo’s lips trembled a few times before he let out a small sigh.
“…Why do androids need black moonstone?”
The stone so extremely black that it resembled darkness itself or the night sky. The method of combining this ore with an android’s heart had become a major turning point in humanoid manufacturing technology.
“Why must we be created in ways we don’t want, and then be disposed of so terribly?”
Yet at the same time, it had become the cause of countless androids being hunted.
Tae-soo wanted to embrace Seong-woo. But he couldn’t bring himself to open his arms. He could only press down firmly on the hand he was holding. He found himself detestable.
He could feel Seong-woo’s body temperature through his palm. A body like a human’s, with circulating blood, a beating pulse, and warm skin was beside him. Inside was a heart directed toward him.
How could feelings so clearly visible and intensely felt exist?
“…I’m sorry.”
It took considerable courage to open his mouth and apologize. But it would be insignificant compared to the courage Seong-woo must have needed to survive.
Seong-woo’s eyes widened at his apology.
“What are you sorry for?”
“I’m human too.”
Even if he lacked qualification, that didn’t mean he lacked responsibility. Especially as someone who had participated in the Jirisan massacre.
Seong-woo’s face flushed. It was obvious he was flustered, not knowing how to respond. Tae-soo tapped his hand gently and smiled.
Yes, they could talk about it later. Nothing would change if he spoke a little later. Self-justification was easy, and rationalization was even easier.
“By the way, it’s strange. Why is the Minister so obsessed with black moonstone?”
“It’s probably not for creating military androids.”
“Yeah, you think so too? That gentleman isn’t really the patriotic type.”
When he deliberately spoke lightly, Seong-woo’s expression seemed to relax a little. Soon after, watching Seong-woo’s face as he held his chin in thought, Tae-soo lifted his hand and gently brushed his hair. He liked the moment when those eyes, lost in thought, turned toward him. So much that he wanted to freeze them in place.
“I’ll look into it.”
If he could, he wanted to make Seong-woo keep his eyes fixed on him, with no need to look elsewhere. So there would be no painful or distressing things.
***
Yacheon Technology had probably received a promise of exclusive supply contracts for future military androids from the Minister. And the Minister likely pocketed profits by illegally selling black moonstone obtained from discarded androids.
If so, there must be an intermediary who sold the black moonstone on his behalf. Finding that was the key.
“Since there’s no evidence of manipulation in the video and there’s a confession, wouldn’t it be okay to release it as is?”
Tae-soo shook his head at Kim Ji-heon’s question.
“No. The illegal trade of black moonstone alone isn’t enough. The video doesn’t mention what the black moonstone was used for.”
“But they killed so many androids?”
“If they were going to be discarded anyway, it probably wouldn’t be a major issue. The world, including the European Union, would condemn it, but if they insisted it was related to national military secrets, it would be awkward for others to intervene.”
While android rights had improved globally, a nation’s military secrets took precedence.
“Public backlash would be quite severe too. As things stand, it would just look like two men who don’t get along having a mud fight.”
There needed to be something that would shock people. Something that could completely flip the table. And surprisingly, the android massacre wasn’t that decisive blow.
“We need to end this for good this time.”
It wasn’t for himself. For Seong-woo to find complete freedom, Yacheon and the Minister had to be finished now.
“Um, sir, perhaps Mr. Yoo…”
Kim Ji-heon, who was about to speak, hesitated upon seeing Tae-soo’s face. He seemed to have sensed what he was about to say. Otherwise, Tae-soo wouldn’t have looked at him as if he wanted to tear him apart.
“Don’t even dream of it.”
“…I didn’t say anything.”
Tae-soo knew that if they used Seong-woo, or rather the name of the missing Yoo-hyun, things might be resolved more easily. But what was the point? All of this was for him.
If it weren’t for him, Tae-soo would still be holed up in Eden, quietly guarding his paradise, regardless of the Minister or anyone else.
For the first time, he felt like a living person. He, who had neither the strength nor the will to hate anyone, was now struggling with all his might to live.
Tae-soo liked that. Such fervent hatred, such passion. And Seong-woo, who had made him this way, was precious beyond measure.
“…What are you smiling about? My head is killing me.”
Kim Ji-heon asked with a voice mixed with a sigh. Tae-soo answered by glaring at him again.
Chapter 9
‘Becoming like humans’ is one of several symptoms of aging in certain humanoids.
(…)
The same symptoms appeared in models other than KW0911, and the cause is still unknown.
– From “Fundamentals of Humanoid Management”
***
Very few people knew that Tae-soo and Seong-woo had visited the creator’s house. Eden still shone brilliantly with golden light, while outside the splendid paradise was noisy with terrorism issues.
As soon as they returned home, Tae-soo contacted the military police and shared some of the videos found in Yoo-hyun’s room. It was the part containing statements that could serve as evidence of collusion with Yacheon Technology.
He hid nothing from Seong-woo, but as calls grew longer, he often left the room out of concern that Seong-woo might grow tired of listening beside him.
Whenever he went in and out of the bedroom, Seong-woo was quietly sitting, carving sculptures or playing with Popo. Sometimes he appeared to be talking with Old Man Chang. They didn’t seem to be exchanging any particularly important conversations.
He also saw him coming and going, conversing with Kim Ji-heon. Thinking they weren’t particularly close, he called Ji-heon separately.
“What were you talking about with Mr. Yoo?”
“What? Oh, just… we were testing synchronizing his android, Popo, with my tablet. It’s convenient for exchanging data.”
“…Is that so?”
For some reason, he felt uneasy, but figured it was just his imagination.
After moving busily for several hours, Kim Ji-heon came running, pale as a ghost.
“Sir, Mr. Yoo has…”
Tae-soo’s molars clenched tightly. An ominous feeling he had never experienced before rushed right up to his face.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
