Choi Sung-Wook's laughter, mad and cruel, echoed through the dark corridors of the dungeon, drowning out the screams of horror and pain. He stood in the middle of the cave, bathed in blood, illuminated by flashes of spells and the flickering light of phosphorescent lichens. His puppets, bound by invisible threads, writhed in agony, their faces contorted in masks of terror.
"Bloody Dawn," once a proud and ruthless squad, was now just a pathetic bunch of broken, frightened people. Their expensive armor, covered in dirt and blood, no longer inspired fear. Their weapons, dropped from weakened hands, lay uselessly on the stone floor.
Sung-Wook enjoyed every moment of this performance. He reveled in their fear, their pain, their despair. He was a god in this small, enclosed world, and they were his toys, his victims.
— Well, my dears, — he purred, approaching the skinny guy who had recently been boasting and threatening him. — Are you having fun?
The guy only sobbed in response, unable to utter a word. His eyes, full of horror, were fixed on Sung-Wook, like a rabbit hypnotized by a snake.
— Don't be silent, — Sung-Wook bent down to him, his face twisted in a predatory smile. — Tell me, how do you like the show? Do you like your role?
He straightened up and looked at the others. The woman, once proud and arrogant, was now crying, her whole body shaking. The youngest, the one who had smirked at him, was now hysterical, trying to break the invisible bonds.
— But you wanted this yourselves, — said Sung-Wook, addressing them all at once. — You wanted adventure, you wanted glory, you wanted wealth. You came to the dungeon to test yourselves. Well, what is it? Here it is, your test!
He laughed again, and this laughter seemed to penetrate to the very depths of their souls, poisoning them, depriving them of their last hope.
— But don't worry, — Sung-Wook made a calming gesture with his hand. — This is not the end. The most interesting part is yet to come.
He approached the woman, who was still crying, and, grabbing her chin, forced her to look him in the eye.
— You, — he said, — will be the first.
He snapped his fingers, and the invisible threads that bound the woman tightened. Her body arched, a scream of pain escaping her throat.
— Don't be afraid, — whispered Sung-Wook, leaning towards her ear. — It's not painful. Almost.
He snapped his fingers again, and the threads, like invisible tentacles, penetrated her body, activating her hidden reserves, her magical power. The woman screamed even louder, her body began to glow from within, and tongues of flame began to dance around her.
— See? — Sung-Wook turned to the others. — She's not so useless after all. She has power. Only she doesn't know how to use it. But I'll help her.
He controlled her power like a conductor leading an orchestra. He made the flames dance around her, take different forms, sometimes gently licking her skin, sometimes burning, causing unbearable pain.
— Watch and learn, — he said, addressing the other members of "Bloody Dawn". — This is how you should use your power. To the fullest. Until the very end.
Sung-Wook continued to torment the woman, making her body twist under the influence of uncontrolled magic. The flames, escaping her control, licked the cave walls, leaving charred marks on them. The air filled with the smell of burning flesh and ozone.
— Enough, — he said, finally, and with a snap of his fingers, cut off the flow of energy.
The woman collapsed to the floor, her body convulsing. She was alive, but her mind seemed to have failed to withstand such a test. Her eyes, empty and lifeless, stared into nowhere.
— Who's next? — asked Sung-Wook, looking at the remaining members of the squad.
His gaze stopped on the skinny guy, who was still trying to free himself from the invisible bonds.
— You, — said Sung-Wook, approaching him. — You wanted adventure? You wanted to test yourself? Well, come on, show me what you're capable of.
He used his threads again, this time activating not magical abilities, but physical ones. The guy's body began to change, muscles bulging, bones cracking, skin covered in bumps. He was turning into a kind of monster, strong but ugly and clumsy.
— Come on, — Sung-Wook goaded him. — Attack me! Show me your strength!
The guy, growling and wheezing, rushed at Sung-Wook, but he easily dodged his clumsy attack. He played with him like a cat with a mouse, sometimes letting him get close, sometimes jumping aside.
— You call that strength? — laughed Sung-Wook. — You're weaker than a child!
He continued to mock him until he was completely exhausted. Then, with a wave of his hand, he returned his body to its previous state, leaving the guy lying on the floor, trembling and helpless.
— Boring, — drawled Sung-Wook, turning away from him. — You're all so boring.
His gaze fell on the youngest member of the squad, who had been silently watching the whole scene. His eyes were filled with horror, but there were no tears, no pleas for mercy.
— And why are you silent? — asked Sung-Wook, approaching him. — Aren't you afraid?
The guy remained silent, only pursing his lips tighter.
— Or do you think you're special? — continued Sung-Wook. — Do you think I'll spare you?
He bent down to him, looking into his eyes.
— You're wrong, — he whispered. — You're just like all the others. Just another puppet in my game.
He snapped his fingers, and the threads that bound the guy tightened. But instead of activating his power, they began to slowly squeeze his body, causing unbearable pain.
— I… I'm not afraid of you, — the guy gasped, overcoming the pain.
— Really? — Sung-Wook raised an eyebrow. — You should be. Because I can do anything I want to you.
He increased the pressure, and the guy screamed. His body arched, bones cracked, blood flowed from his nose and ears.
— Stop it! — a voice rang out.
It was the skinny guy, who, overcoming his weakness, managed to get to his feet.
— Stop it, — he repeated. — Leave him alone. Do what you want with me, but don't touch him.
Sung-Wook looked at him in surprise.
— What unexpected bravery, — he said. — And what are you going to do to me?
— I… I don't know, — admitted the guy. — But I won't let you torture him.
Sung-Wook laughed.
— You can't stop me, — he said. — I'm stronger than you. I'm stronger than all of you.
— Maybe, — agreed the guy. — But I'll still fight.
He took a step forward, then another, and, staggering, headed towards Sung-Wook.
— Fool, — hissed Sung-Wook, but in his voice, to his own surprise, there was no usual mockery.
He waited for the guy to attack him, but he just stopped in front of him, looking him straight in the eye.
— We are not your toys, — he said, and in his voice, despite the weakness, there was steel. — We are people. And we won't dance to your tune.
Sung-Wook was silent, struck by his words. For the first time in a long time, he felt… doubt.
Could it be… they haven't broken? — flashed through his mind. — Could it be they are still resisting?
He looked at the guy standing in front of him, at his exhausted but unbroken face, and suddenly realized that he was… tired. Tired of playing, tired of mocking, tired of causing pain.
What am I doing? — he asked himself. — Why do I need all this?
There was no answer. Only the emptiness inside, which seemed to have grown even bigger.
He lowered his hand, and the threads that bound the young member of the squad loosened. The guy, not believing his eyes, staggered but remained on his feet.
— Leave, — said Sung-Wook, turning away. — Leave before I change my mind.
The skinny guy didn't need to be asked twice. He ran over to his comrade, helped him up, and together, supporting each other, they stumbled towards the exit of the cave.
Sung-Wook didn't stop them. He stood with his back against the wall and watched them go. Conflicting feelings fought in his soul: disappointment, anger, resentment… and something else, something he couldn't understand.
When they disappeared from view, Sung-Wook sank to the floor and closed his eyes. He no longer felt like a puppeteer. He felt… empty.
What now? — he asked himself. — What do I do now?
There was no answer. Only the silence of the cave, broken only by his own breathing.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps. Someone was approaching him. Sung-Wook opened his eyes and saw another group of adventurers passing by. They were well-equipped, confident, and… clearly unaware of what had happened here a few minutes ago.
A new game? — flashed through Sung-Wook's mind.
The instinct of the puppeteer seemed to awaken again, whispering in his ear, pushing him to action.
Yes, — he thought. — Why not?
He got to his feet, and a familiar predatory smile appeared on his lips. The threads, woven from his power, came into motion again, reaching out to the new victims.
— Hello, — he said, stepping out to meet them. — Are you also looking for adventure?
The group stopped, looking at him with interest.
— And who are you? — asked one of them, a tall man with a stern face.
— Just a hunter, — answered Sung-Wook. — Just like you.
— And what are you doing here alone? — asked a woman from their squad, beautiful but with a cold look.
— I… I lost my squad, — lied Sung-Wook. — They… they died.
— My condolences, — said the man, but there was not a drop of sympathy in his voice. — The dungeon is a dangerous place.
— Yes, — agreed Sung-Wook. — Very dangerous.
He fell silent, waiting. He knew they would offer him to join them. It always happens that way. The strong always look for the weak to use them for their own purposes.
And he was not mistaken.
— Okay, — said the man after a pause. — You can come with us. But look, don't get under our feet.
— Thank you, — Sung-Wook portrayed gratitude on his face. — I will be useful to you.
Of course, you will, — he thought, hiding a smile. — Very useful.
He joined the group, and they continued their way deep into the dungeon. Sung-Wook walked behind, watching them, studying them, as he once studied "Bloody Dawn".
They are different, — he thought. — Not as cruel, not as overconfident. But still… puppets.
He knew that sooner or later they would show their true colors. Sooner or later they would break. And then he would again pull the strings, enjoying their pain and fear.
Because this is my game, — he thought. — And I will play to the end.
But deep down he felt that something had changed. Something had broken inside him. He was no longer sure that he wanted to play. He was no longer sure that he wanted to be a puppeteer.
But what then? — he asked himself. — Who am I, if not a puppeteer?
There was no answer. Only the emptiness, which seemed to be getting bigger and bigger.
He walked through the dark corridors of the dungeon, surrounded by strangers, and felt more alone than ever.
What is happening to me? — he thought, and in his voice, to his own surprise, there was… panic?
He tried to push these thoughts away, to focus on the game, on his new puppets. But it wasn't that easy. Something inside him resisted, didn't want to obey.
It's temporary, — he reassured himself. — It's just fatigue. It will pass soon.
But he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of anything anymore.
Suddenly, he felt his threads, which he had discreetly extended to the members of the new group, encounter some kind of obstacle. Something was preventing them from penetrating inside, from subjugating them to his will.
What the…? — Sung-Wook frowned, trying to understand what was happening.
He concentrated, directed more power into the threads, but they still couldn't break through the invisible barrier.
— What's the matter? — he asked himself, feeling a cold sweat break out on his forehead.
He tried again, but the result was the same. His threads, his power, his control – everything was useless.
Impossible, — flashed through his mind. — This can't be.
He looked at the members of the group, who were walking ahead, unsuspecting. They seemed the same as all the others. Ordinary people, ordinary hunters.
But why then…? — Sung-Wook couldn't find an answer.
Suddenly, he heard a voice. Quiet, barely audible, but clearly distinguishable in his head.
— Leave them, — said the voice. — They are not your toys.
Sung-Wook shuddered. He recognized this voice. It was the voice of the skinny guy from "Bloody Dawn". The one who dared to contradict him.
What the…? — Sung-Wook spun his head, trying to understand where the voice was coming from.
— Can you hear me? — the voice asked again. — Leave them alone.
— Who are you? — whispered Sung-Wook. — How are you doing this?
— It doesn't matter, — answered the voice. — What matters is that you must stop. You must stop.
— But… but I can't, — whispered Sung-Wook. — I… I'm the puppeteer. This is my game.
— This is not a game, — the voice objected. — This is cruelty. This is madness. You are hurting people. You are ruining their lives.
— But… but they deserve it, — Sung-Wook tried to justify himself. — They are weak. They are…
— They are people, — the voice interrupted him. — Just like you. And they have the right to live. The right to be happy.
— But I… I can't do otherwise, — whispered Sung-Wook. — I don't know how…
— You can change, — said the voice. — You can choose a different path.
— But… but which one? — asked Sung-Wook, and a plea sounded in his voice.
— I don't know, — answered the voice. — That's for you to decide. But I know one thing: you must not hurt others. You must not be a puppeteer.
The voice fell silent, and Sung-Wook was left alone with his thoughts. His threads, hanging lifelessly in the air, no longer tried to penetrate the members of the new group.
He stood in the middle of the dark corridor, surrounded by strangers, and felt lost, confused, devastated.
What should I do? — he asked himself, and in his voice, to his own surprise, there was… hope?
He didn't know the answer. But for the first time in a long time, he was ready to look for it. Not in the game, not in manipulations, not in someone else's pain, but… in himself.
Maybe, — he thought, — maybe it's not too late.
He took a deep breath and, gathering his strength, followed the group. He no longer tried to control them, no longer tried to play. He just walked, trying not to fall behind.
For now, that's enough, — he thought. — And then… we'll see.
A long journey awaited them ahead. A journey full of dangers, trials, and… perhaps, redemption.
And Choi Sung-Wook, the former Puppeteer, was ready for this journey. He was ready to change. He was ready… to live.
But deep down he knew that the past would not let him go so easily. That the game was not over yet. And that one day he would have to make a choice again.
A choice between darkness and light. Between the game and reality. Between the puppeteer and… a human.
And what this choice would be, no one knew. Not even himself.
Meanwhile, in another part of the dungeon...
The skinny guy and the young member of the "Bloody Dawn" squad, whom Sung-Wook had granted freedom, were making their way through the dark corridors, supporting each other. They were wounded, exhausted, but not broken.
— How did you do that? — asked the young man, looking at his savior. — How did you manage to reach him?
— I don't know, — answered the skinny guy. — I just… I felt I had to. I had to stop him.
— But how? — the young man persisted. — Your words… they sounded in his head. As if… you were controlling his thoughts.
— I don't know, — repeated the skinny guy. — I just… spoke from the heart.
He himself didn't understand how he had done it. Just at the moment when Sung-Wook was about to kill the young man, he felt that he had to intervene. That he had to tell him something, something important, something that could stop him.
And, to his own surprise, it worked. Sung-Wook let them go. He changed. Or at least he pretended to change.
— Do you think he really changed? — asked the young man.
— I don't know, — answered the skinny guy. — But I want to believe that he did.
They walked in silence, each immersed in his own thoughts. They didn't know what awaited them ahead, but they were together. And that gave them strength.
Suddenly, they heard a noise ahead. Voices, the clang of weapons, screams.
— What's that? — asked the young man, tensing up.
— I don't know, — answered the skinny guy. — But we better be careful.
They cautiously moved forward, trying not to make any noise. Soon they saw a group of people fighting monsters. They were the same adventurers whom Sung-Wook had met at the entrance to the dungeon.
And among them… was him. Choi Sung-Wook. The former Puppeteer.
He was fighting alongside them, shoulder to shoulder, like an ordinary hunter. He didn't use his threads, didn't manipulate, didn't mock. He just fought.
The skinny guy and the young man exchanged glances. They couldn't believe their eyes.
— He… he's helping them, — whispered the young man.
— Yes, — nodded the skinny guy. — It seems he really has changed.
But deep down they both knew that it wasn't over yet. That the game was not over yet. And that one day they would have to face the Puppeteer again.
But now they were ready for it. They were ready to fight. For themselves, for others, for… him.
Because even in the darkest heart, a spark of hope can be born. And even the cruelest puppeteer can one day… become human.