Rose wandered the city streets, her footsteps echoing softly against the hum of life around her. The night had draped the world in a velvet cloak, with the glow of restaurant lights spilling out into the streets, and the mingling scents of street food filling the air. People moved, talking, laughing, lost in their own worlds. She walked, taking it all in, but something felt off. She wasn't sure where she was, and the more she walked, the more the city seemed to twist and stretch, unfamiliar roads and faces around her.
Her hand dipped into her pocket, but when she searched, it was empty. No money, no way to join the bustling crowd. Still, she wandered, the night thick with the scent of uncertainty.
Then, she saw him—a child dressed as a joker. His makeup was flawless, the painted smile wide and unsettling, and his costume seemed to shimmer in the dim light. He sat on the street corner, shuffling a deck of tarot cards, the cards slipping through his hands like water. A small crowd had gathered around him, dropping coins into his collection plate as they listened intently to his whispered readings. Some seemed intrigued, others simply amused. But Rose stood apart, drawn in despite herself.
Her eyes lingered on the child as he spoke, his voice low, but each word precise, weaving through the crowd with ease. He was reading their pasts, their futures—some were skeptical, others amazed—but all of them listened. She had no money, no way to join in, but something about the air, about the child, kept her there.
Alright, everyone, today's the end," he announced. One by one,the crowd began to disperse, their curiosity sated for the night, and as they drifted off into the distance, the child's gaze caught Rose's. Without hesitation, he stood up, his painted face still, yet full of knowing. "Lady, do you wish to be my last customer?" he asked, his voice tinged with a strange finality.
"Last?" Rose asked, caught off guard by the question.
The child smiled brightly, his eyes twinkling. "Today is my last day at work." He spoke as though it were all part of some grand performance.
She chuckled softly, her eyes glimmering with a mix of amusement and uncertainty, and said, "I don't have any money."But the child's smile only widened.
"Don't worry, lady," he said. "The last customer is always on the house."
Rose hesitated, then gave in to the strange pull of the moment. "Alright," she said softly. "I'll choose one."
The child shuffled the deck with a flourish, and Rose watched, her heart beating slightly faster with curiosity. The card felt heavy in her hand when she drew it, its edges cool against her fingertips. The child held it up, staring at it for a moment as if reading something only he could see. His face was unreadable.
After a long pause, he spoke. "Your fire burns, yet casts no glow. Betrayed by shadows, only you can let your soul grow." His voice was calm, yet there was a weight to it, a sense of foreboding.
"The Devil," he whispered, his eyes locking with hers.
Before she could respond, a car appeared, speeding toward the child. The screech of tires filled the air, and in an instant, Rose's instincts took over. Without thinking, she lunged forward, grabbing the child and pulling him out of harm's way just in time. The car swerved, barely missing them, and sped off into the night.
The child, unfazed by the near miss, stood still, his painted face calm as ever. He glanced up at Rose, his smile unchanged. "It's my time to leave now," he said softly, as if nothing had happened.
The crowd had already moved on, and the child turned to join them. But before he disappeared into the sea of faces, Rose called out, her voice thick with emotion. "Will I ever see you again?"
He paused, turning halfway, just enough for her to see the edge of his smile. He lifted his hand to his hat, tipping it lightly in a gesture that felt both mysterious and final. "Goodbye, lady," he said, his voice a soft echo in the night.
And with that, he vanished into the crowd, leaving Rose standing there, the weight of the card still heavy in her hand.
Then, with a screech of tires, another car lost control and slammed into an unsuspecting soul. Rose stood there, unmoving, her face a mask of stillness, as if the world around her had ceased to exist. Her eyes held no fear, no sorrow—only a haunting emptiness, as if she understood the unspoken bargain of fate. A life saved, yet another taken in its place. The silence between heartbeats felt like a heavy secret, a truth too cruel to voice, but known all the same.
After a moment, Rose found herself sitting quietly in the police station. The air was thick with tension, but her face betrayed no emotion. A young police officer approached, carrying a pen and an envelope, and sat in a chair across from her.
"Student, what's your name?" he asked, his tone calm but curious.
Rose answered without a hint of expression, "Seo Mu-rae."
The officer nodded, though he hesitated briefly. "Seo..." he paused awkwardly, then smiled, trying to shift the mood. "That accident must have been traumatic for you."
"I'm okay," Rose replied, her voice flat, devoid of emotion. After a moment, she added, "But I'm hungry."
The officer scratched the back of his head apologetically. "Alright, student. I brought you here without asking—let me make it up to you. I'll treat you to something. What do you want to eat?"
"Anything," she said indifferently. He nodded and began ordering food.
As he scrolled through his phone, an older police officer approached, his presence commanding yet familiar. "Mu-rae?" he said, squinting at her. Rose glanced at him, surprised but silent.
The older man continued, his tone softening. "Mu-rae, what are you doing here?"
Rose's mind raced. Does he know Mu-rae? she wondered.
---
A moment later, the three of them sat together, sharing a meal. The old officer talked endlessly, his stories filling the room with a mix of nostalgia and overbearing energy. Even the young officer seemed uncomfortable, shifting in his seat.
Despite his chatter, Rose gleaned pieces of information. She learned about Seo Mu-rae—an orphan abandoned at birth, deemed unlucky, and given a name meaning "no future." She had left the orphanage upon turning 18, as no one older could remain there.And this old man's name is Han Jung-hwan. He used to provide funds to the orphanage where Mu-rae stayed.
As Rose processed this, a commotion broke out nearby. A man was angrily shouting at another officer, his voice echoing through the station.
"I told you I never posted that!" the man yelled. "My phone was stolen, and it came back just 30 minutes later. I don't even have a social media account named '000'!"
The officer sighed, clearly irritated. "Yes, yes, because thieves always return stolen items," he muttered sarcastically.
The old man chuckled and leaned closer to Rose, pointing at the irate man. "Kids these days are dangerous. That guy posted online that the world is about to end or something. It went viral—got everyone panicked. People even reported it to us. But as you heard, he claims he didn't do it."
Rose's eyes widened. "Show me," she said urgently.
The young officer handed her his phone, displaying the viral post. As she read it, a smirk curled on her lips. Her thoughts turned sharp, dark.
She smirked, the bitterness in her expression cutting sharper than any blade. How foolish I was. The thought echoed like a curse, each word laced with venom. She mocked herself for the tears she had shed, the countless times she had died for revenge, believing in those she called her friends. But now, the truth unraveled before her—a perfectly crafted web of lies.
It was all deliberate. Every move, every betrayal, a calculated end to the story in that world. And I was blind enough to think I was the only one who returned. Her eyes burned with a fire that no longer sought to comfort, only to destroy. Of course, there are others. Four? Perhaps more. All of them weaving their plans while I was their perfect fool.
Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms as the memory of their deceit churned in her mind. They called me friend, but no fool would walk into a trap knowingly. They died willingly—no, purposefully—just to close the book on that cursed story.
Her thoughts darkened, sharpening like a blade ready to strike. They know this world better than I do. They hold secrets I couldn't even begin to grasp. But don't think for a moment that I'll let them win. Her smirk deepened, her resolve hard as steel. I won't trust anyone again. Not their words, not their smiles, not their lies.
A storm of rage and purpose swirled in her chest, stronger than any fear. Now I see it clearly. If you don't know yourself, the world will tear you apart, twist you into its pawn, and cast you aside like nothing. But not this time. Her voice, though silent, carried a promise that could shake the heavens.
This time, I'll fool you. I'll use you. And I'll abandon you—just as you fooled, used, and abandoned me.
In that moment of clarity, Rose fully understood the weight of "The Devil" card. It was no longer just a cryptic prophecy or a vague warning—it was a mirror reflecting her inner struggle and the path laid before her. The fire it spoke of wasn't merely destruction; it was transformation. The shadows it warned of were not just betrayals but the lingering remnants of her own doubts and fears.
She realized the card wasn't condemning her—it was offering her a choice. Would she remain bound by the chains of her past, fueled by anger and vengeance? Or would she wield her pain and rise above it, using it as a weapon to forge her own fate?
Now, she knew the path she had to choose. It wasn't about blind revenge or senseless destruction; it was about reclaiming her power, mastering the shadows, and becoming the force that no one could manipulate again. "The Devil" was not her downfall—it was her awakening.