Chapter 36
Merai told the moneylender she couldn't hand over the building since her son had arbitrarily put it up as collateral, but she only got slapped and chased away.
She needed money. An enormous sum that couldn't be repaid even by selling off all the children.
She visited the nobles who'd bought children before, but was turned away every time. Merai even went to the temple to beg for help. One of the priests had been a loyal customer of hers.
And there, the moment she encountered a breathtakingly beautiful and ecstatic painting, Merai shuddered. It felt as if an angel had lifted her hand.
The painting depicted the sorcery circle the previous director had disposed of to evade crackdowns. Fortunately, the foolish temple folk hadn't even recognized it as a sorcery circle.
Merai pushed back her meeting with the priest and returned to the orphanage.
She'd heard the entire sorcery process verbally from the director and, fortunately, remembered it all vividly.
After slashing her arm and drawing the circle with blood, Merai summoned a demon using a child as sacrifice. That demon was the very idiot before her now, refusing the countless playthings she offered.
“That demon called itself Melek.”
Resummoning the demon from the past had succeeded. Merai felt relieved, but the problem arose unexpectedly.
“Sorry, but that's not me.”
The demon denied its past. Summoned the same way, same appearance, same name, even the same voice—yet it claimed it wasn't itself?
“How pitiful. You're still trapped in the past.”
The demon even pitied Merai. Who do you think caused this? Overwhelmed by a bizarre sense of betrayal, Merai declared.
“In the end, you'll devour the children just like before.”
Demons love flawless, pure white souls.
For some reason, the demon she'd encountered after twenty years was starving. It looked ravenous, so she figured dangling them before it would whet its appetite.
Merai brought all the meal fodder the demon so loved down to the basement, but damn it, the demon had remarkable patience.
In the end, before the demon's patience ran out, her beloved son showed up at the orphanage with guests in tow. Guards? Or priests like twenty years ago? Or the people who'd lent Troy money? None were welcome.
Merai grew impatient.
If the demon refused to hunt itself, there was another way. Merai sometimes personally fed fussy children their vegetables.
So couldn't she just pour the well-cooked food straight into its mouth now? Merai yanked the chains binding the demon's body.
Melek began following Merai. Their destination was the torture room where the children were locked.
***
Soon, the door opened.
Yulma tried his best to stay composed. Just follow the plan with Ranan. Nothing difficult—he could do it.
But Yulma's calm shattered immediately. The director hadn't come alone; she'd brought a man bound in chains.
‘Why bring him?’
The man blocked the director's back, making it hard for Ranan to strike from behind. The fully restrained man moved like a puppet wherever the director led.
“Who untied Yulma?”
The director scanned the room before asking gently.
“Why is no one answering? The director's back. Turn around and greet me properly.”
No response came. The children had all plugged their ears. Yulma had told his younger siblings never to turn around, just huddle against the wall with ears covered. They feared Yulma, so they'd obey.
For the impatient ones, he'd said they could turn after counting to a hundred—and as far as Yulma knew, none could count that high.
“Yulma. You answer. What's going on here?”
“That's what I want to ask. Director, what are you planning to do with us? I thought you were selling us.”
At that, the director smiled kindly, eyes crinkling.
“Selling? Hahaha, what a delightful misunderstanding. Well, I did intend to sell you all originally, so maybe not a misunderstanding? You too, Yulma. If only my son hadn't damaged the merchandise, you could've fetched a high price…. Ruining you where everyone could see—what a naughty boy.”
‘Merchandise?’
Yulma felt betrayal toward the director alongside faint gratitude toward Troy. Better scarred than sold to some unknown purpose. Such scratches were nothing to Yulma.
“But things have changed. Troy put up the orphanage as collateral for a huge loan. Even if someone bought all of you, it wouldn't cover it. So I found another way.”
Take that back. That damn bastard! So this was all because of the money that scum borrowed?
Yulma recalled his role and pressed on.
“So what's that way?”
“Would you believe me if I told you? I didn't believe it myself until I saw…. Well, you'll understand when you see.”
The director walked to the wall, running her hand over the tools. Yulma tensed sharply. Would she notice one was missing? Fortunately, she passed the empty spot without noticing.
The next instant, Yulma bit his tongue to stifle a curse.
The director picked up a bladed tool.
Damn, that crazy bitch. Ranan was right. The director really planned to use those weapons on them.
“You'll understand me someday, Yulma.”
Understand my ass! Better to starve than fatten herself selling innocent kids.
“You're a good child, right?”
In this situation, good or not even mattered? That gem of a phrase was something the director often said. The kids fawned for that 'good child' praise.
“I like good children. That's what satisfies the demon.”
The director aimed the blade at Yulma. She was fully facing away from the door. And beyond her back, Ranan looked aghast.
Aside from the director grabbing the blade, it matched their plan perfectly. Yulma as bait, Ranan striking from behind.
The director raised her hand.
“Ranan!”
Yulma squeezed his eyes shut, praying for success.
***
The drawer Lady Evangeline had broken open was where the director kept important things. Daisy knew well that the director always carried the key.
‘8 silver 30 copper, 12 silver 150 copper, 10 silver 200 copper, 7 silver, 13 silver 32 copper….’
Daisy read and reread the document Troy had found. No matter how many times she recited it, the contents didn't change. The papers recorded the director selling children.
“I only learned about these papers recently myself.”
Troy barely continued his explanation, hunched over. It was the first time Daisy had seen him so dejected.
“You're not framing the director for your own deeds?”
“Can't you see the years? Would a five-year-old manage that?”
Daisy knew too. She just didn't want to accept that the director, so kind and devoted, had sold children.
“The kids probably don't even want to see the director. Why hasn't she come back….”
“That means they're living happily.”
Daisy recalled the response when young Daisy had complained that adopted kids never returned.
Happily? No, they simply couldn't return.
“Troy, did you know all along? Is that why you scarred Yulma?”
Troy nodded. Daisy remembered how he'd bullied kids right before adoption. Yulma's adoption was canceled over the ugly arm scar. So it wasn't just bullying?
“When did you find out?”
“First realized at ten.”
Troy was seventeen now, so just seven years ago.
“Why speak up now? If you'd said sooner….”
“I did tell! I told you all. That Mom was selling kids. That we lived off that money! What did you say? Don't be jealous of kids adopted into rich houses for no reason!”
Troy yelled in rage. Daisy shut her mouth, recalling how they'd scolded him because they hated him.
Troy had done his best in his own way. He'd sabotaged the adoptions disguised as sales and confronted his mom several times.
When words failed, he'd even reported his birth mother, but no evidence existed. The guards dismissed it— one or two orphans vanishing a year wasn't unusual—and barely investigated. They hinted they'd rather not tangle with rich nobles buying kids.
“I know! My mom's insane! That's why I tried to shut down this damn orphanage!”
So Troy had chosen the next best option.
“Thirteen kids left at the orphanage. Borrowed 15 gold using the building as collateral, figuring even selling them all wouldn't cover it. Thought it'd force her to stop. But….”
The director vanished with the children.
Troy said he'd only realized afterward she might sell them all. Overwhelmed by guilt for making things worse, he'd drowned his memories in alcohol.
“It's my fault….”
Daisy hugged the tear-streaked Troy.
The kids probably hadn't been sold. As Troy said, even all of them wouldn't cover the debt. Instead, like Troy, the director had found another way.
She'd summoned a demon with that floor drawing to wish. Daisy realized why the circle was in the director's office.
