Chapter 9: The Mirror Within
The sky above Seoul had turned gray again. Not because of rain—but because the city seemed to feel it too.
Something terrible had awakened.
Ji-ho sat on the rooftop of an abandoned hospital, his legs dangling off the edge, overlooking the distant skyline. His clothes were torn, his hands stained in dried blood. He hadn't spoken a word in hours.
Downstairs, Ye-jun slept restlessly, his injuries mostly healed, though his mind carried a weight even Ji-ho couldn't touch.
But up here, Ji-ho faced something more dangerous than any enemy.
Himself.
He stared at his hands.
Once soft, once meant to protect—to hold his brother when he cried, to pass notes in class, to eat homemade meals with chopsticks.
Now?
They tore through men. Melted walls. Burned souls.
His fingertips still tingled from the power he used on Mok-hwan. That scream—the final one, when the man realized no mercy would come—still echoed in Ji-ho's ears. He hadn't flinched. He hadn't hesitated.
And that scared him more than anything.
Was this how it began?
The descent?
His father used to say, "If you stare into the abyss long enough, Ji-ho, you'll find your reflection staring back with red eyes."
He never understood it until now.
And now… he had red eyes.
He clenched his fists. The power in him stirred. The pendant against his chest pulsed again, almost in rhythm with his heartbeat. As if feeding off his emotions. As if enjoying this.
"No," he whispered. "I'm not doing this for power. I'm not like them."
But deep inside, another voice laughed.
"Aren't you? You killed him like an animal. And it felt good, didn't it?"
Ji-ho shivered.
He remembered Seo-oh's smile. The way she scolded them like an older sister. The way she cooked without measuring, somehow always getting it right. The warm light in her eyes.
He had failed her.
And then he avenged her.
But he couldn't stop thinking—if she saw what he did… would she have smiled? Or looked at him with the same horror Mok-hwan did?
He rubbed his eyes. His mind felt like a war zone. Pain and rage clashed with guilt and exhaustion. For a moment, he wanted to disappear.
But then… a small voice pierced the fog.
"Hyung?"
Ye-jun stood behind him, a blanket draped over his shoulders, his eyes still half-sleepy.
"You didn't come back down. I got worried."
Ji-ho forced a smile. "Sorry. Just needed some air."
Ye-jun stepped closer, sitting beside him.
"I know it's eating you up," Ye-jun said, voice soft. "What you did. What you're feeling. But I saw what they did to her. And… I'm not angry at you."
Ji-ho turned, startled.
Ye-jun looked up, eyes firm despite the sadness in them.
"I saw everything. The video. Her pain. And then what you did to that bastard… Hyung, I didn't see a monster. I saw my brother doing what no one else had the strength to."
Ji-ho's throat tightened.
"You don't get it," he whispered. "I liked it. The power. The control. For a moment, I wasn't just angry—I was… hungry. And that scares me."
Ye-jun didn't respond right away. He just put his hand on Ji-ho's shoulder.
"Then let me remind you of who you are. Every time."
The two brothers sat in silence for a while, letting the wind pass over them, the city watching quietly.
Down below, eight more targets remained.
But now, Ji-ho would walk the edge of a knife—not just between life and death—but between justice and becoming the very devil he once feared.
And the pendant still pulsed.
Waiting.
To be continued....