Translator: Nox

How to Survive the Horror Novel I Wrote

Chapter 22

After class, I returned to the Teachers' Room and casually brought up Ahn Ondam to the Class 2 Homeroom Teacher.

“Excuse me, didn't you say Ahn Ondam has been absent without leave since last week?”

“Yeah. Word is she ran away from home.”

The Class 2 Homeroom Teacher responded nonchalantly. Having entered her fifties, she had a particular tendency to draw a strict line regarding students' family affairs. Did anyone who spent over twenty years teaching become so thoroughly detached between the personal and the professional?

“Are you sure she just ran away? What if her father beat her to death?”

When the Class 5 Homeroom Teacher chimed in with a worried expression, the Music Teacher also added a word.

“Shouldn't we report this to the police?”

“Just leave it be. It's not the first or second time.”

The Class 2 Homeroom Teacher waved her hand dismissively. As if telling them not to make a fuss, looking thoroughly bothered.

Ahn Ondam was a child abused by her biological father. When her homeroom teacher found out, she had sought advice from senior teachers, and word had spread from mouth to mouth until all the teachers quietly kept an eye on her while pretending not to notice.

I felt nothing but discomfort around that child. Seeing her did not inspire any urge to help just because she reminded me of my past self. I hadn't overcome it enough to put on such a brave front.

Even now, my heart pounded heavily and my breath caught whenever I recalled my Stepfather's shouts, his large, thick hands, and my mother's profile as she turned away from me.

Thinking about Ahn Ondam brought back those old days, making it hard to bear. I buried my concern for Ahn Ondam along with my guilt. It was the only way for me to survive.

And yet.

“…!”

Ahn Ondam was at the convenience store near my house when I stopped by on my way home from work. A short-haired girl whose long, overgrown bangs completely obscured both eyes.

Dressed in her school uniform as if she had just come from school, she was eating cup ramyeon.

Ahn Ondam flinched when she saw me, but instead of greeting me, she buried her nose in her ramyeon cup.

I, too, turned my gaze away, pretending not to notice.

To begin with, I wasn't the meddlesome type. Nor was I an impassioned teacher who threw herself into her students' problems. I wasn't even her homeroom teacher.

Stepping in would only amount to unwanted interference and meddling. There was nothing I could do for that child anyway.

Ignoring the prick of my conscience, I returned home.

Clack, clack-clack-clack.

The moment I opened the front door, the typing sounds drifting from the room greeted me.

Thump-thump, thump-thump. My heart pounded hard and fast. Because I was reminded of that dangerous kiss we had shared by the entrance the night before last.

I was losing my mind. Why did it keep coming back to me? Fanning my burning face with my hand, I chased away the thoughts.

Looking at the Cursed Manuscript, Ugeum was digging with a shovel today as well.

They say humans are creatures of habit—dating Ugeum, checking his whereabouts after work, all of this had somehow become part of my daily routine.

After washing up, I was watching TV while eating ramyeon when news of a murder case came on.

—A dismembered body of a woman in her twenties was discovered on Naegong Mountain in Seoul, and police have launched an investigation. According to the police, the dismembered female corpse was found inside a black plastic bag on a hiking trail on Naegong Mountain at 2:05 PM on the 25th. Parts of the body have not yet been located. The police have requested an autopsy from the National Forensic Service to identify the body.

My appetite vanished completely. Naturally, a serial killer I knew very well came to mind. The culprit couldn't be Ju Ugeum, could it? Surely not.

…Though they say careless assumptions can kill. A sudden wave of suspicion sprouted. The dead woman might have been an evil person worthy of being Ugeum's target. There was no telling.

What if the culprit was Ugeum? What if the Cursed Manuscript didn't show every single one of his actions? What if he had killed someone without my knowledge?

The mere hypothesis chilled my blood.

While trembling with anxiety and gnawing on my thumb, Ahn Ondam suddenly crossed my mind. Along with a dark shadow quietly trailing behind the child wandering the streets alone in the dark night. Whether that shadow was Ugeum or not, the fact remained that a killer was roaming the outside world.

I shouldn't have just walked past her.

Belated regret squeezed my chest. Tossing my chopsticks aside, I bolted out of the house in a frantic hurry. I ran straight to the convenience store, but Ahn Ondam was already gone.

Approaching the counter, I asked the part-timer.

“Excuse me, when did the female student who was eating ramyeon over there leave?”

“A while ago.”

“Which way did she go?”

“I wouldn't know.”

The part-timer's indifferent attitude felt like a reproach, asking why I was making a fuss only now.

Hoping Ahn Ondam might come back, I waited in front of the convenience store for a long time before trudging back home. On the coffee table, the half-eaten ramyeon had bloated, filling the entire pot.

After throwing out the ramyeon, I called Ugeum.

—Yeah, Ji-an.

Ugeum answered the phone as if he had been waiting.

Did you see the news? They said a dismembered body was found on Naegong Mountain. Did you kill her?

Sharp questions that could never be voiced clawed at my throat.

‘Why are you suspecting me? What do you even know?’

In my imagination, Ugeum's voice sank grimly. I didn't know anymore either. What I really knew about you. Other than the fact that you were a serial killer character I created.

My mood plummeted endlessly into the depths. Why was I like this?

“Do you want to come over to my place?”

It was an impulsive offer, but once the words left my mouth, a sense of duty gripped me that I had to bring him over no matter what.

—Right now?

“Yes.”

—It's past ten o'clock.

“I know.”

As I replied calmly while looking at the wall clock, a sly chuckle drifted through the receiver.

—Are you mentally prepared already?