Lucian and his younger sibling grew up in a cramped house on the outskirts of the city—its walls dull, its floors cold, and its air always heavy. Since their parents' divorce, that house was no longer a place of comfort, but an enclosed space filled with complaints, anger, and disappointment.
The reason was that their mother had failed to obtain any wealth from her ex-husband. Lawsuit after lawsuit ended in failure, leaving behind a suffocating sense of frustration.
And that frustration slowly found its target.
Lucian and his sibling.
Yelling became a daily occurrence. Every small mistake turned into a major outburst. They grew up under constant pressure—learning to stay silent, learning not to ask for anything, learning to endure their mother's beatings without a sound.
But one day, his sibling died.
The funeral was quiet. A thin rain fell, as if the sky itself was mourning. Among the line of mourners, Lucian stood stiffly, staring at the ground that was slowly swallowing the small coffin before him.
No tears.No sobbing.No sadness.
Yet there, after so long, he saw the man known as his father.
A man in a neat suit and polished shoes, standing upright among the simplicity of the funeral. His presence was striking, as though he came from a completely different world. From the way he stood, from the expensive watch on his wrist, from the confident look in his eyes—Lucian knew that man lived in luxury.
They spoke. Only a few brief sentences, but they were enough to make Lucian's heart tremble.
For the first time in so long, he felt… noticed.
Before leaving, his father handed a sum of money to his mother. From that moment on, their living conditions improved slightly. The food became more decent, and the anger eased a little. Yet his father's presence remained nothing more than a fleeting memory.
And because of that, Lucian's longing only grew deeper.
He thought about his father almost every day, imagining a life in a warm place, far from shouting and violence. But as a child, he had no way to reach that man.
Until an idea crossed his mind.
He knew his mother often relied on sleeping pills to rest. From that habit, Lucian began stealing the medicine and mixing it into her food whenever he had the chance. He hoped his mother would fall asleep long enough—long enough for everyone to believe she had died.
The plan went exactly as he had hoped.
A funeral was held.
And there, Lucian met his father again.
The man looked at him with a somber face, filled with sorrow and regret—an expression completely different from their previous meeting. From that day on, Lucian's life changed. He was taken away and placed under his father's care.
Eight years passed, and Lucian was now sixteen.
That afternoon, the classroom atmosphere was fairly calm. Sunlight filtered through the windows, reflecting off the ceramic floor that had begun to fade. Some students were busy chatting, while others were bent over their phones. At a desk near the window, Lucian sat casually, resting his chin on one hand, staring blankly outside.
Gema, his desk mate, leaned over and showed him his phone screen.
"Look. This psychopath test is trending lately."
The screen displayed a page with a white background and bold black letters.
Psychopath Test – Robert D. Luffy
Lucian glanced at it briefly. "Really? You actually believe in something like that?"
"Of course. A lot of people say the results are pretty accurate. You should try it too," Gema said while sending him the link.
Lucian's phone vibrated softly on the desk. He glanced at the notification, hesitated for a moment, then clicked it. A new page opened, displaying a series of questions with a simple design, interspersed with faint dark-themed illustrations.
The first question appeared on the screen.
There are two sisters. One day, they go to a funeral and meet a very handsome man. Both fall in love. That night, the younger sister kills her older sister. Why?
Gema answered quickly, "Because of jealousy."
Lucian thought for a moment, then typed:
"Because they are twins. The younger sister is afraid her older sister will take the man from her."
A few seconds later, an explanation appeared:
Answers that mention feelings like jealousy are thoughts that come from normal people. However, psychopaths who lack emotion will answer: to hold another funeral and meet the man again.
Gema glanced at the screen. "Seriously? I thought my answer was already pretty psychopathic. How about you?"
"I also answered because of jealousy."
Gema sighed in frustration, then they moved on to the next question.
You are alone in a room, staring into a mirror. But you don't like your reflection. Why?
Gema answered, "Because it looks bad."
Lucian typed:
"Because it looks ugly."
A few seconds later, the explanation appeared:
Most people will answer that it's because they look ugly or fat, blaming themselves. Meanwhile, a psychopath will say something like the mirror is dirty, the glass is cracked, or something else—shifting the blame to external factors.
Gema studied the screen. "I think I get it. Next time I won't mess up."
Lucian frowned. "Wait, haven't you been giving the correct answers this whole time?"
Gema ignored him and focused back on his phone.
On Christmas Day, Santa gives a child a ball and a bicycle, but the child looks sad. Why?
"Because the gifts are different from what he wanted."
Lucian typed the same thing.
A few seconds later, the explanation appeared:
A psychopath will answer: because he has no legs.
Gema forced a stiff smile. "That one's kind of creepy. I guess I really don't have the talent to be a psychopath."
Lucian sighed. "From the start, why are you so interested in being a psychopath anyway?"
At midnight, you go up to the rooftop. While enjoying the view, something passes behind you. What is it?
Gema thought for a moment. "A dog."
Lucian typed:
"My father."
The explanation appeared:
Being on a rooftop at midnight creates a creepy impression. Usually, people will answer with ghosts or something scary. However, psychopaths will answer with something random, like a cute animal or someone they love, because they don't grasp the fear implied in the question.
"Yoohoo, I finally got one right!" Gema cheered, showing his phone. "What about you?"
"I answered something similar," Lucian said, showing his screen. "By the way, why did you answer dog?"
Gema looked a little down. "I live alone with my pet dog. Sometimes when I go up to the rooftop, he follows me. So that was the first thing that came to mind."
Lucian nodded slightly.
Gema looked at him. "What about you? Why did you answer father? Are you afraid of him?"
Lucian often went to the rooftop—or more precisely, to the top of the skyscraper where he lived. And while enjoying the view, his father would often come by to smoke.
"More or less the same as you," he replied briefly.
At midnight, you step onto your balcony. Below, there is a man holding a knife. When your eyes meet, he points at you. Why?
Gema hesitated. "Threatening?"
Lucian nodded. "Right. It's not uncommon for someone to point a weapon just to intimidate."
The explanation appeared:
A psychopath will answer: to count which floor the target is on.
"Wow, I didn't think of that," Gema said. "My house only has three floors. But you live in a tall building, right?"
"Fourteenth floor," Lucian replied. "Makes sense for him to point to count."
Right after the fifth question, you immediately go to the kitchen. Why?
Gema: "To seek help. To call the police."
Lucian added, "If it were me, I would grab a knife from the kitchen."
Gema jolted. "Are you crazy? You want to duel with a psychopath?"
"Aren't you the one who wants to be a psychopath? Then try thinking the opposite way."
Gema scratched his head. "Even so, just imagining fighting someone like that already scares me."
The explanation appeared:
A psychopath will answer: because they are hungry. They do not perceive fear in that situation.
"I think it's clear I'm not a psychopath," Gema said. "What kind of person doesn't feel fear?"
"They say it can be influenced by genetic factors," Lucian replied. "There are people who truly can't feel fear because they lack a certain hormone or something like that."
"Oh, you mean like dopamine, which makes people feel happy?"
Lucian nodded in response.
Someone rings your doorbell and makes an excuse to enter your house. How do you respond?
Gema shrugged lightly. "Open the door."
Lucian turned sharply toward him, his brows slightly furrowed. "Are you stupid? What if it's a murderer?"
Gema sighed softly. "Even if you say that, I often order food late at night. Of course, I'll check first if it's really the delivery person."
Lucian leaned back in his chair, staring at him blankly. "And how can you be sure it's really them? Do you often switch apps?"
"No," Gema replied quickly. "I can monitor it through the app." He glanced at Lucian. "What about you? We often stay up late together. Don't you order things too?"
Lucian shook his head slightly. "Yeah, I order, but it gets left in the lobby, and I'll be contacted to pick it up."
The explanation appeared:
Most people will feel suspicious or ignore it, but psychopaths will ask questions to obtain more detailed information.
In a dark house, a serial killer is searching for you. Where do you hide?
Gema: "Climb out the window and run into a crowd."
Lucian: "Behind the door."
The explanation appeared:
Most people choose to hide under the bed or inside a closet. Meanwhile, psychopaths choose positions that allow a counterattack, such as behind a door.
"So cliché," Gema muttered. "Everyone knows hiding in a closet or under the bed is dangerous."
"Better to take a risk than be trapped," Lucian replied calmly.
Gema chuckled. "Either way, this was pretty fun."
Lucian seemed to recall something, then spoke.
"Oh, by the way, have you ever heard stories about serial killers who slip questions into conversations to extract information about their targets?"
Gema's eyes widened. "Huh? How so?"
"In short, don't answer those questions honestly. The data could be used to kill you. Have you already sent your answers?"
Gema looked anxious and showed his phone screen.
On it was written:
You are normal
"Lucian, what should I do? They say there have been murders these past few months. Because of what you said, I'm getting worried."
"Well, it's just a theory," Lucian said lightly. "So don't overthink it."
The school bell rang, cutting their conversation short, and class began.