On the fifth kick against the wall, the fan let out a long screeching metallic sound, then finally detached from the vent. As the fan fell away, Jeong Tae-ui, who was hanging with all his weight on it, also dropped down.

“Ugh...!”

He hit the floor hard with his whole body, trembling as he rubbed his particularly sore tailbone. He wanted to scream out loud from the pain, but couldn’t make a sound, making it all the more miserable.

Curled up and lying face down on the bathroom floor, clutching his tailbone, Tae-ui waited until the pain eased slightly before finally sighing and getting up. Without a mirror, he couldn’t see it, but the bruise was surely dark purple by now.

“Damn, that hurts like hell...”

Reflexively wiping the tears that had welled up in his eyes with a finger joint, he grumbled. Then he looked up. The vent where the fan had fallen out was now gaping open.

Carefully tapping the throbbing area near his tailbone again, he approached the vent. He thought gloomily that if he fell again, his tailbone might shatter into pieces. Still, he hung onto the vent once more. Without the fan in the way, holding on was easier. With a grunt, he did a pull-up. The vent was very small, and the ceiling blocked free sight outside, but Tae-ui turned his head carefully to look out bit by bit as best he could.

The first thing he saw was white branches. Everywhere his gaze landed, the thick branches stretched out, all white. Whether he tilted his head sideways or looked up, it was all the same. Listening quietly, no human sounds reached him. Only silence filled the air, then suddenly, a nightingale sang in the distance. Cool, clear air filtered in.

“...”

Tae-ui dropped lightly to the floor from the vent. His hands were covered in dust, which he shook off.

It was a forest. He had no idea where exactly, nor which part of the forest he was in. It seemed to be in a mountain cabin built within the woods.

Since he couldn’t see much of the forest, he couldn’t be sure, but if he could sneak out somehow, he felt he might hide in the forest and escape...

Tae-ui sat on the toilet, lost in thought. But his thoughts didn’t last long, as he heard knocking on the door. A polite but urgent voice asked if he was ready, saying it was urgent.

“Ah, I’m coming out now.”

He stood up promptly and shouted, then remembered he was naked and quickly turned back to find his underwear.

Peeling the dusty underwear off the vent fan, he held it silently, staring and wondering what to do next until the knocking resumed.

He had heard people say the easiest thing in captivity was to wait for someone to rescue you.

But that sounded like a lie. It wasn’t easiest, just most likely to result in rescue by others—but it didn’t feel easiest.

Lying on the floor, staring at the window, he thought:

The day was breaking. Pale sky brightened through gaps in the ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) nailed wooden board covering the window. Less than a day had passed since the kidnapping, but it felt like several days. What could be more agonizing than having no freedom, nothing to do but sit and wait?

He thought trying to escape might be better, rolled around. If he had any tools, he would have tried something. Better to fail escaping and get beaten than to die of boredom. Then again, maybe not. Last night he hadn’t slept well. Not from nervousness about the unfamiliar bed, but because after taking medicine and being dragged here, he’d been in a near-comatose state all day. When the medicine wore off at night, sleep wouldn’t come easily. Even now, he had nodded off and woken repeatedly until this time.

Tae-ui tossed and turned in an uneasy state—not sleepy nor refreshed—then sighed and sat up. Lying down awake on the floor was just as agonizing.

Scratching his head, he looked around. Others were similar. Some slept deeply, some in light naps, and two were awake. Tae-ui clicked his tongue, still unable to brush his teeth. He looked again at the window. If he could handle that, maybe he could break it. The wood was probably cheap plywood, not expensive hardwood. That meant someone strong could break it barehanded. Tae-ui could do it if the grain was right. But not now. Breaking it would make a loud noise and someone would come running.

He stood and walked to the window, tapping the wooden board blocking it.

It felt heavier than expected. It wouldn’t break easily barehanded. And of the group, only Tae-ui looked physically able—others were older or looked weak. Honestly, he wasn’t confident he could break it barehanded.

He tapped the board lightly with his fingertips. Through a gap above, he saw a bird fly by. Beyond that, the sky glowed faintly red. It seemed like it would be a nice day.

“Without any tools, escaping on our own will be tough.”

A man lying awake under the window said slowly. Tae-ui murmured agreement.

There were many problems here: the kidnapping, lack of tools, not knowing the outside environment. Also, one failed escape attempt would make the next attempt harder. He’d be stuck just waiting for outside help.

“If Kyle could negotiate well with those people… but that’s probably not easy either.”

Tae-ui sighed and murmured. External rescue could be a jackpot or a disaster. It could mean waiting quietly and leaving without trouble—or it could mean dying here.

The others didn’t seem to think of the latter. Raised in a common environment, Tae-ui naturally leaned toward the worse possibility.

He had a sudden thought and left the window, entering the bathroom. The vent fan he’d removed was still lying in a corner. He picked up the heavy fan.

“The problem with trying to escape...”

He tapped the fan with his finger, mumbling alone. He glanced at the ceiling, then looked out. He saw people beyond the door.

He’d only read about groups of ordinary people escaping a dangerous situation by fighting or fleeing in crowds in the Bible. This was the biggest problem with trying to escape here. If it were the military or UNHRDO comrades, things would be faster. They might have pushed Tae-ui, who argued to wait, to try escaping already. Or he wouldn’t have been caught this way at all.

Trying to run alone might be doable, but with others, it was tough. That was Tae-ui’s problem. He might die trying alone, but for others’ lives, he couldn’t risk that.

He couldn’t leave alone either. (He imagined ten possible troublesome situations from doing that.)

“Maybe the easiest is just to wait quietly for someone to save us.”

Muttering this, Tae-ui left the bathroom. Two awake people looked curiously at the fan in his hands. He was too absorbed in thought to notice. Actually, trying to escape might be a useless effort. If he injured himself escaping, then kidnappers suddenly decided to release everyone after negotiations, it would be a waste.

Still...

“I need at least one excuse.”

Later, when he met Kyle, he’d say, “I tried my best... sorry I couldn’t help.” Though Kyle was the cause and should fix it, that wasn’t how Tae-ui thought.

“Seems like you want to do something, but if they catch you, it could be worse.”

A man watching Tae-ui muttered worriedly. Tae-ui glanced at him and noticed the man wasn’t worried about Tae-ui, but about his own possible danger. Understandable—no one wants to risk their life because of someone else.

But the man missed one thing. Although the hostages were important, Tae-ui was just an unimportant ‘extra’ caught because he happened to be there. Even if things went wrong, kidnappers might easily dispose of Tae-ui but wouldn’t harm the others.

“It’s okay. If I die, I’ll take all the blame.”

Jokingly, Tae-ui kept working. He was removing fan blades from the hub, but they wouldn’t come off easily. Whoever made this fan built it tough. Maybe he should buy stocks in that company.

Looking at the hub with the company name, he thought.

Finally, all four blades came off. His hands were covered in scratches but bearable. He flicked the twisted blades off with his fingernails. The blades were as sturdy as they caused him trouble. He sighed satisfied and stood, holding the four blades stacked.

He went to the window and looked again through the gap above the wooden boards. The sky was much brighter now, and birds occasionally chirped. The day was beginning.

Tae-ui glanced at the door. It would be bad if the men came in now. Probably to bring breakfast, but maybe not this early.

He decided to think positively. Like the man said yesterday, if it’s your time to die, you die; if your time to live, you live.

At uncertain times like this, it’s better to keep that thought. Worrying without conclusion had never helped.

“Rei, Rei, please share your luck with me...”

Muttering as he forced the fan blades between the tightly joined wooden boards, Tae-ui found comfort in calling out Rei’s name, the mysterious lucky spirit who had never answered before.

It took time to wedge the fan blade through the tightly joined boards. The wood creaked faintly. He nudged the blade into the gap, tapping to force it in. Some people began waking.

Creak...

The blade was halfway between the boards. A tiny crack appeared in the layered wood.

Tae-ui rubbed his wounded fingers and clicked his tongue. Not cut, but raw and painful. He sucked a finger and sighed. Nearby, he pressed the fan hub against the fan blade wedged in the boards and used his weight like a lever to push quickly.

Crack―――. He heard wood fibers tearing. The narrow plank gap widened. Each time he pushed, the wood cracked along its grain. Eventually, the board held only at top and bottom, the middle falling out. A long gap opened, wide enough for two fingers.

If he pushed a bit more, the board would fall. Then it’d be simpler than removing all the boards.

Tae-ui picked up the fan blade slipping between the loose boards. Even stacked two thick blades had bent sharply. That would be harder to use.

He discarded the folded blades and stacked the remaining two blades again, slipping them into the widened gap below. Then repeated the process. This time it was much easier.

One plank had fully come off. Not enough space to escape, but enough to peek outside as the adjacent planks bent.

“...”

Tae-ui grimaced bitterly.

He’d guessed it but indeed, it was a forest. The cabin was on the second floor, surrounded densely by birch trees. Mountains rose behind the forest, though hidden by the bent boards, the terrain looked rough.

“Hey, see anything? Where...?”

A man sitting nearby, who’d noticed the view, stood and approached. Others quietly asked where.

Tae-ui scratched his head, knowing nothing about the place. The man who had been examining outside muttered, frowning:

“It’s deep in the mountains... pretty deep.”

Others came to look but no one knew where exactly. Even Tae-ui wouldn’t know if dumped in a forest behind his house.

Suddenly, someone approached outside.

Tae-ui, alert to footsteps, pushed away a man standing by the window, but the Black man watching outside looked puzzled and didn’t move aside. Tae-ui clicked his tongue and covered his face.

“Someone’s coming...”

Before he finished, footsteps were heard, and the door suddenly swung open before the Black man could sit down.

Startled, the Black man turned abruptly. Tae-ui clicked his tongue and held his head.

A man entered carrying a bag of rye bread in one hand and water in the other. His eyes widened seeing the scene. He seemed to realize the situation from the split plank.

“You bastards...!”

The man threw down the items and shouted outside. Several others came running. They looked at the scene, puzzled why the man was upset, but when he pressed the split plank, their expressions darkened.

“What kind of bastard are you... you?!”

The man glared fiercely at Tae-ui, who was holding a fan blade and shaking it bitterly. It was the same man who had hit Tae-ui with a crutch yesterday and had recognized him.

“You should have sat quietly and waited. Why mess around? Trying to run off when left alone...!”

The man punched Tae-ui in the face.