* * *
Baha slammed the bars with a loud clang, his face emotionless.
No matter how durable he was, that had to hurt—but he seemed numb to the pain.
Probably because the drugs had dulled his senses to the point of dysfunction.
“I want to be the one to touch you… but I think I’ll end up killing you if I do, so I’d better not.”
“…What?”
That was out of character. Wasn’t he supposed to be attacking him by now?
“Hang in there a little, Ranshel. It won’t be that bad. You’re a member of Nameless too, aren’t you?”
“Wait, Baha. Weren’t you trying to kill me?”
“Not yet. We haven’t had enough fun.”
Ranshel furrowed his brows.
Unlike before, Baha hadn’t played with him using a sword—so he wasn’t ready to kill him just yet.
Not even Ranshel had predicted this, even with the memories.
Baha wasn’t someone you could understand through logic.
Baha turned and walked toward the entrance of the prison.
As he opened the door, he gave a soft order.
“Make him talk by the time I get back.”
“Yes, sir.”
He left, and this time, members of the Holy Legion entered the cell.
When Ranshel saw what they were carrying, a sharp pain spiked through his head.
They brought it all the way into the cell.
“…”
Ranshel stared quietly at what they placed on the floor.
The deep tub was filled to the brim with water, gently rippling.
“Who’s behind this?”
“…”
When Ranshel stayed silent, they grabbed him and forced him close to the tub.
One of them yanked his hair.
“Who ordered you to do this?”
“…”
Splash!
His head plunged into the water.
Ranshel, trained in slowing his heartbeat and controlling his breath, thrashed violently on purpose—pretending to be suffocating.
They held him down for a long while before finally dragging him out once his body went limp.
Cough, cough.
Ranshel choked violently, spitting water from his mouth.
The soldiers waited for him to catch his breath before questioning him again.
“Why did you do it?”
“…”
When Ranshel refused to speak again, they began slapping him across the face.
The first hit only made his cheek swell.
After a few more, the inside of his mouth split open, blood pooling.
When he tried to spit it out, they shoved his head back into the water.
This time, it was worse—his breath was already short from the beating.
If he hadn’t undergone Nameless training, the back-to-back torture might’ve knocked him unconscious already.
Underwater, Ranshel blinked, his body flailing.
The hand yanking his hair was so rough, it felt like his scalp was being torn off.
Then someone kicked him in the side.
Blood from his mouth mixed with the water, staining it red.
Splash— His head was pulled back up.
Ranshel spat out the blood-tinged water, his body shivering.
But before he could catch his breath, they asked again.
And again, he said nothing—and was slapped over and over.
“…He… that…”
Another question.
But the voice sounded wrong.
‘Ah. My eardrum…’
Strength began to leave Ranshel’s body.
His mind was still holding on, but his physical endurance was failing.
His battered body screamed in agony.
His lungs, abused, wailed.
From his parched throat rose a mix of water and blood.
The one holding his hair finally let go, and Ranshel collapsed to the side.
His eyes were already closed, consciousness slipping.
Yet, the moment they confirmed he was still breathing—they shoved his head back into the water.
‘Am I going to die here?’
What choices would be next?
How could he avoid Baha and protect Zavad?
Was that even possible?
Ranshel began to doubt his abilities.
Maybe he’d reached his limit.
Maybe this was where all his extra lives would finally snap—until nothing was left, not even him.
‘Is this really the end?’
Not killed by Zavad, not by anyone meaningful—just waiting here, alone, for death.
‘This isn’t the kind of ending I wanted. At the very least… I wanted to be by his side.’
Slowly, his consciousness faded.
And then suddenly—he remembered something.
There was another time… when he’d sunk into water, and thought about death—
On the day of his parents’ funeral, Cha Eunseong didn’t cry.
He couldn’t.
If he had the strength for tears, he needed to offer his shoulder instead—to Eunhye, who leaned on him.
His little sister, soaking wet with tears, was small and light.
Eunseong believed he could carry that weight for the rest of his life.
He had to.
The siblings went to live with their aunt, their legal guardian.
As minors, their aunt took control of the inheritance and promised to care for them.
At first, she was kind. But at some point—perhaps when the phone fights with her husband overseas began—her warmth faded, and coldness took over.
“I can’t handle this—two more mouths to feed?! I suddenly have two more kids at my age, how does that make any sense? I can barely manage the one son I already have—how am I supposed to raise all of them on my own!”
The walls were far too thin to block out his aunt’s shrill voice.
Eunseong gently covered Eunhye’s ears.
The next day, he told his aunt that he would drop out of school and start working at a factory.
He said he’d try to help out however he could—and asked her to take care of Eunhye instead.
When his aunt looked at the siblings, her usually hardened face would soften for once.
That gave Eunseong the conviction that he’d made the right decision.
As he submitted his withdrawal papers and walked out, the chatter and laughter of students echoed in his ears.
He paused for a moment, but didn’t look back.
“Be good, and listen to Auntie, okay?”
To lessen the burden on the household, Eunseong started working at a factory that provided meals and lodging.
Eunhye looked anxious but nodded quietly.
From that day on, Eunseong woke up before dawn, took on overtime, and worked into the night.
Every month, he sent his entire salary to his aunt.
[Buy something tasty for Eunhye.]
He pressed each key on his phone carefully and sent the message.
There was no reply, but he figured she’d seen it.
That was enough.
Working even on holidays meant extra pay.
It wasn’t all that hard, thinking it was all for Eunhye.
He kept working without rest, sending money back, until coworkers insisted he take at least one day off.
So he did—and naturally, he went to visit his sister.
“Hey, open your eyes. I said, open your damn eyes.”
When Eunseong opened the gate, he froze at the scene before him.
His aunt’s son had his hand around Eunhye’s neck and was spraying her face with a water gun.
He laughed as the stream hit her eyes.
Eunhye was soaked, biting her lip, enduring it in silence.
It was like a screw popped loose in his head.
When he came to, Eunseong had the boy by the collar and was swinging his fist.
If Eunhye hadn’t stopped him, it wouldn’t have ended with just one punch.
“Oh my God—how did I end up raising a thug like you?!”
His aunt flew into a rage when she saw the bruised face of her son.
She grabbed a slipper and started hitting Eunseong.
He just stood there and took it.
When she told him to take Eunhye and get out, he agreed—but only if she returned their parents’ inheritance.
“Also, I want back all the salary I’ve sent.”
“What are you saying? Are you crazy? I spent that money raising you two! How can you ask for money that doesn’t exist?”
“If you don’t, I’ll report you for child abuse. I’ll go to the media. I’ll write about it online.”
* * *
