CHAPTER 24
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The anxiety that had gripped me relentlessly had now escalated into sheer fear, threatening to engulf me entirely. Trapped on these seemingly endless stairs, I felt a mounting terror, the dread of never finding an escape growing with every passing moment.
In this paralyzing numbness, I couldn't even muster a curse, but at last, I glimpsed the culmination of these eerie stairs in the far distance. There, where the darkness seemed to thicken, a change in the scenery finally presented itself. Instead of the spiraling walls, a black floor began to emerge.
Spurred by this altered view, I quickened my steps, my heart pounding erratically, only to stumble and tumble forward as my momentum couldn't be halted in time when I reached the end of the stairs.
"Fuck, is this how I meet my end?" I exclaimed, sprawled out on the inky floor, feeling as if the darkness were consuming me whole. Gazing upwards from my prone position, I could discern nothing but an impenetrable void.
In those moments when I could catch a glimpse of the faint green light reflecting on the walls, there was at least a glimmer of hope that I was headed in the right direction. However, this desolate space allowed no room for such comforting thoughts.
"Where am I now?" I said aloud, mustering a semblance of courage as I slowly picked myself up.
Surveying the indistinct surroundings, I noticed a faint light blinking in the distance.
"Sigh. It's so blatantly beckoning me to follow that it's almost worrying," I muttered, squinting at the flickering light and releasing a heavy sigh. Despite my growing unease, I found myself with no other option but to heed its call.
My slow strides soon gave way to a brisk run, the elusive light remaining frustratingly distant, despite seeming so close.
"I swear, if I encounter that Nightmare again, I'll confront him head-on!" I shouted in frustration, pushing myself to sprint even faster.
As I ran with my head down, then lifted my gaze, a figure appeared in the distance, and the echoing voices of people reverberated through the vast, enigmatic expanse.
"I told you I don't want a child like that!" a man's voice erupted in anger.
"Is that something you say in front of a child? Did I give birth to her alone?" a woman retorted, her voice charged with anger.
The voices of a man shouting about not wanting a child and a woman vehemently responding filled the space, with a young Han Chorok, appearing no more than five years old, silently observing their heated exchange.
It was a heartbreaking scene. Both parents, utterly unprepared to shoulder the responsibilities of parenthood, were too engrossed in blaming each other to notice the innocent child caught in the crossfire. A cynical laugh escaped my lips as their argument escalated into a physical altercation. Both being hunters, their fight was protracted and fierce, and I couldn't hide the disgust etched on my face.
Then, as if the scene were a mirage, it blurred and shifted. Chorok underwent a sudden transformation, now appearing as a teenager. It was difficult to gauge his exact age, but he still bore the marks of frailty and vulnerability. His hunched shoulders, as if perpetually on edge, compelled me to take a step forward.
"Chorok, you mustn't lose faith. You're a good child, and you'll heed the guru's teachings, won't you?" uttered a middle-aged man with a sleazy demeanor, his hand gently caressing young Chorok's head. His lascivious gaze unsettlingly roved over the boy's undeveloped frame.
This was a scene I had encountered in the game.
Abandoned by his parents, Chorok had found himself in the clutches of an orphanage run by a cult, a group that adhered to a bizarre and twisted religion.
"You must offer your heart to the gods. Only then can you attain paradise."
The crazy bastard’s words were as deranged as his actions. Who could possibly believe that offering one's heart would lead to paradise?
With a sinister smile etched across his face, the man took Chorok's hand and led him to what resembled an ominous operating table. He gently placed Chorok down and caressed his head once more.
"Don't fret, my child. It will all be over swiftly. Let's reunite in paradise," the man murmured, his voice dripping with an unsettling calm.
Recent news stories had circulated about a peculiar religious group that targeted hunters, believing that a hunter's power resided within their hearts and that by acquiring those hearts, they could gain their extraordinary abilities. The orphanage where Chorok resided was an integral part of this bizarre cult, where they deemed the hearts of children who displayed hunter abilities as sacred offerings to their malevolent deities.
In the game, it was Lee Jehee who intervened at this critical juncture, saving Chorok from this horrifying fate. This scene marked the early stages of the game, and just like Jehee, I had always prioritized rescuing Chorok as my first companion. After rescuing him, I had entrusted him to another facility, with the promise that he would seek me out once he had matured.
The story of Han Chorok was undeniably tragic. In most of my playthroughs, I had adhered to strategy guides that suggested advancing the main storyline with other characters was more beneficial. Now, however, I regretted not following my heart and nurturing Chorok's growth more closely.
To young Chorok, Lee Jehee had been nothing short of a deity, a living god, in stark contrast to the false ones who demanded hearts. For a child, a parent was akin to a god, and for Chorok, that role had been embodied by Lee Jehee.
I wished I had made sure in the game that he grew up feeling cherished by Jehee's side, even if they weren't his biological parents. My remorse over following a strategy that had led me to abandon him weighed heavily upon me.
As I watched, my heart heavy with regret, the middle-aged man reached for a knife. In this chilling nightmare, there was no Lee Jehee to swoop in and rescue young Chorok.
The scene then shifted once more. It was now the adult Chorok, the one I had come to know, facing Jehee, who appeared impatient and disinterested.
"Go ahead, leave," Jehee muttered dismissively. "Walk your own path, Chorok. I'm weary. Irritated. So don't seek me out any longer."
After Jehee had spoken, he turned his back and walked away, leaving Chorok, now a grown man, standing motionless, his gaze fixed on Jehee's retreating form. Despite his stature, Chorok still emanated an aura of vulnerability and powerlessness, his tear-streaked face evoking sympathy.
This wasn't a past event like the others; it was Chorok's deepest fear for the future: the fear of abandonment by Jehee.
Chorok stood there, tears streaming down his face, his eyes locked on the fading figure of Jehee. And then, the illusion shifted once more, returning to the image of his quarreling parents.
This relentless nightmare, a cruel concoction of shattered family hopes and the haunting fear of losing his savior, was the dreadful result of Nightmare's skill, "Ruler of Nightmares." It plunged its victims into a profound, inescapable dream of despair, rendering them utterly incapable of awakening.
"What a cursed skill," I muttered under my breath, my gaze fixed on Chorok.
Slowly, I moved closer to him, gently placing my hands on his quivering shoulders. His body trembled under my touch, and I decided to remove my hands from his shoulders, instead covering his ears with my palms.
"Hey, if you don't want to hear it, then don't. Why subject yourself to such vulgar conversations? If anything, you should be cursing them," I whispered, attempting to offer him some semblance of comfort.
Young Chorok remained silent, but with the sound of the quarreling couple effectively blocked, his tense shoulders gradually relaxed. As the argument between his parents continued, I went a step further, using my hands to shield his eyes as well.
"Don't listen, don't watch, just turn away. Don't stand there and let yourself be hurt by all of this," I urged, my voice soft yet resolute.
The illusion persisted, and soon, Chorok transformed into his teenage self. The sleazy middle-aged man approached him, his smirk oozing with disgust.
"I've found you, you bastard!" the man sneered.
I couldn't bear to watch this torment unfold. Without hesitation, I threw a punch at the middle-aged man, driven by an overwhelming urge to protect Chorok from this nightmare. In the back of my mind, I worried that my actions might not have any real impact in someone else's dream, but to my surprise, the man comically tumbled over, his expression a mix of shock and bewilderment.
It was a dream, after all—a dream woven from Chorok's desires and hopes for a better outcome.
"Hey, what are you waiting for? Join in and give him a good beating! Even if it's only a dream, exact your revenge. That's what dreams are for!" I called out to Chorok while standing over the fallen man, but he stayed frustratingly immobile. Frustration and urgency welled up within me, so I resorted to dragging the man's arm, forcing him in front of Chorok.
Chorok, his face devoid of expression, gazed down at the man who had once caressed his head. Then, he stepped firmly onto the man's outstretched hand, causing a pained cry to escape the man's lips.
"Ah! Chorok! What are you doing? The gods will be furious with me for this!" the man wailed in agony.
As Chorok's foot bore down on the man's hand, the man's screams intensified, his face reddening with bulging veins. Witnessing Chorok's shoulders flinch in response to the man's torment, I quickly delivered a resounding smack to the back of the man's head.
"It's merely a dream; there's no need to make such a fuss. Gods, my foot! Shut up, you wretch!" I yelled angrily at the man.
Despite my loud outbursts, Chorok remained silent. He briefly shifted his gaze to me, then just as swiftly, returned his focus to the man beneath him, increasing the pressure on the man's hand with his foot.
The man's agonizing screams persisted until his form appeared to dissolve into the surrounding darkness, fading away into nothingness.