The two boys trembled as Chaeryoung loomed over them, the nipper cutter clicking rhythmically in her hand.
"The buyers," she prompted, her voice dropping to a silk-smooth whisper. "Who are they?"
"Chinese... Chinese businessmen!" the first boy shrieked. "They have a warehouse near the northern port. They—they look for young women. To use as... as dolls. Slaves. They pay in untraceable crypto. That's all we know! We swear!"
Chaeryoung's smile remained fixed, but a flicker of pure, mechanical coldness crossed her eyes. "Dolls...how odd, where do I hear it somehow - ohhh, right. The Lolita case, well it makes sense now." Chaeryoung spat sarcastically "so the eight students were sold to those predators for them to molest and ravage through your filthy transactions, you really let eight lives turn into deep mud shit just for you to earn your filthy wealth and luxury?... disgusting"
She straightened her back, tossing the cutter onto the metal tray with a loud clatter. She turned to her men, who stood like statues in the shadows. From her blazer pocket, she pulled out a stack of papers the notebook assignments she had intercepted from Epione earlier that day.
"I've decided to be generous," Chaeryoung announced, her voice echoing with a playful, yet lethal, lilt. "I'm giving you a test." She handed the copy of their assignment to one of her men "These are the assignments you were going to force Epione to do for you. Since you're so fond of her work, let's see how much you've learned."
She leaned down, her face inches from the first boy's terrified eyes. "If you know the answers, escaping is easy for you. There are ten questions. For every wrong answer, my men will drill a small hole into your skull. Just a tiny one. Hope you can survive all ten if you're too stupid to answer."
The boys began to wail, but Chaeryoung simply adjusted her white gloves. She leaned into her lead guard's ear, her whisper barely audible over the boys' pleas.
"The class begins. Facilitate. Once you're done, dismiss them in a 'clean' manner. If they fail, which I'm sure they will...clean the bodies and deliver their heads to their doorsteps. No traces."
She turned on her heel, the heavy iron doors groaning shut behind her, cutting off the first high-pitched whine of a power drill.
Chapter 3: The Ghost in the Machine
Chaeryoung didn't go home. She didn't need sleep, not in the way humans did.
A year ago, the world thought the Song family had perished in a tragic "accident." They were right about her parents, but Chaeryoung had been brought back. Her uncle, a man driven mad by the loss of his own pregnant wife, had poured his grief and his fortune into a forbidden fusion of flesh and circuitry. Chaeryoung was his masterpiece: a girl with a human heart but the cold, efficient processing power of an advanced android.
She moved through the Chinese traffickers' security like a shadow through a graveyard. Armed guards didn't even have time to raise their weapons; she moved at speeds the human eye couldn't track, her reinforced limbs shattering bone and steel alike.
By dawn, the three lead buyers were bound in the depths of the Song Base.
"You like to leave marks on women?" Chaeryoung asked, her voice flat and devoid of its usual "bubbly" pitch. She held a glowing industrial heater. "Let's give you some permanent hickeys."
The screams lasted for three days. She was meticulous. She applied the heaters to their flesh in patterns that mimicked the bruises they left on their victims. Then, she brought out the 'Raper Machine'—a jagged, mechanical device of her uncle's design. She inserted the rods into their bodies, the machine's rhythmic in-and-out motion a cruel parody of their crimes.
On the final day, the machines hissed, releasing a thick, white ooze into their systems. It was a concentrated cocktail of King Cobra venom. She watched with tilted head, her internal sensors recording their vitals until the last heartbeat flickered out.
....
On Tuesday morning, the sun was shining brightly over the school courtyard. I had been worried sick; Chaeryoung had been absent on Monday, and she hadn't answered any of my texts.
"Epione!"
I spun around. There she was, jogging toward me with a lunch bag in one hand, her hair bouncing and her eyes sparkling. She looked refreshed, radiant even.
"Chaeryoung! Where were you? I was so worried!"
She giggled, looping her arm through mine just like she always did. "Oh, I'm so sorry, sweetie! My dad took me on a surprise weekend trip to the mountains. We went hiking and looked at the stars. it was so peaceful, I completely forgot to check my phone! We had the best time just bonding, you know?"
I smiled, she deserve this kind of happiness, if I have my parents around...would we also have this kind of bond...
Which I thought to myself
"Chaeryoung and I are nothing alike'
I felt her leaned her head on my shoulder, the scent of expensive floral perfume clinging to her. I couldn't help but smile, the weight lifting off my chest.
"I'm glad you're back," I said softly.
"Me too," she chirped, her smile widening into that perfect, bubbly expression.
"I missed you so much. Ready for class?"
As we walked toward the building, she didn't trip, she didn't stumble. She was the picture of a perfect, happy girl, with not a single drop of blood on her white sleeves.
Walking into school had always been a descent into a waking nightmare, a gauntlet of cold stares, sharper words, bruises painting my fragile skin with blood oozing out of my wounds that completes my everyday uniform, But now, it feels as though a veil has been drawn between me and the world. She came in like a guardian angel sent, a quiet shield against the hands that used to bruise.
In her, I have found a warmth so deep it puts my own blood to shame.
In the silence of the moment, I let my breath carry the words:
'Thank you, Chaeryoung.'