I Was Mistaken as the Novel’s Hidden Boss

There was one excerpt Yeop Jung Hwa particularly remember from her blurred memories from her young life. Almost always recited by her mother before bed, it was this snippet which let her retain sanity amidst the madness she suffered. Funnily, it was actually a vague excerpt with many interpretation. Without specifically cater to one meaning. 

 

But the moment she saw him, the passage unfolded before her eyes. 

 

Dear, live long enough, until your purpose meets you. Then you would understand the reason you were born.  

 

By the general interpretation, the message was clear. The purpose of life. But her mother hushed it in a cultist-like tone, distorting the message closer to brainwashing rather than the general meaning. And recalling the one who tossed her into this den of vampires was no other than her own mother, it's more likely for that reason her mother whispered those sentences to her every night. 

 

But is it? 

 

For her, for the current Jung Hwa, the meaning was now manifesting right before her eyes. She, who has been subjected to various pain—experimented on, dissected, and even eaten—had already lost hope. The ember of life which should be in every living being was no longer there. Who knows from when. Even she can't recall. And exactly because of that, when she beheld the man, the meaning of those excerpts meant to brainwash her took a dramatic effect in her mind. 

 

Is that why? The first time she felt that hope in the form of that handsome creature—which is clearly not human—her reaction was a little bit on the extreme side. Perhaps it was in her genes, an inheritance from her mother aside from face and body. But at that moment, her mind couldn't think of any other thing. At first, it was hope. Then, as if turning from 0 to 100, the once pure hope ascended to another form entirely. 

 

Worship. 

 

He is the purpose her mother taught her.

 

Fortunately, as a human with intelligence, her logical reasoning was active and currently running. But not… in a way it should be. 

 

And so, after pondering how to prove her worth to her savior, she blurted out the most plausible answer she came up with after thinking hard for the first time in several years. 

 

"Please! Let me bear your offspring, my lord!" 

 

"... what?" 

 

And severely confused Drunag. 

 

***

 

One soul, multiple bodies. 

 

It was a concept that seems ridiculous, and inherently repulsive by going against the nature. Yet, Count Herbring was actually succeed in incorporating this absurd ideas into the realm of practicality. Named, Project Cloning. 

 

This project was, fitting its name, purpose in creating a clone vessel and dividing one soul to occupy said vessel. No one, except for the now dead Count Herbring and his four trusted subordinates and the subject itself, knew about the existence of this project. Not even Haneul, with dragon's blood flowing deep in his blood, viewing the past and the future, then regressing to alter the timeline. 

 

'That' may notice, but as 'that' was inherently indifferent, no action is taken even after the experiment is finally done. 

 

Only, the final result was somewhat disappointing. Initially, Herbring planned to clone more than one body, splitting the soul, and create an infinite army. Using the concept of hivemind to prevent the collapse of the teared soul, his endeavor was met with great success. The clone has been successfully created, and the hivemind also works like a charm. By any means, it was a great success. 

 

But that's the extent of it. He has the clear data, perfect calculation and everything, yet the only reason why he felt disappointed was because the lab rat cannot produce more than one clone. It was simply the limit of the human soul. Pushing the experiment will only cause his guinea pig to die, failing to deliver more data for him. 

 

Then, a question formed in his mind. Purely theoretical. 

 

"If the soul can be stretched, how about the inverse? How about compacting several souls into one?" it was an idea more absurd than stretching the soul. 

 

Yet, miraculously, he succeeded. By sacrificing half of his loyal retainers, he compressed them and fusing the soul into the cloning subject. It was by no means easy, but Herbring had some sort of guidebook. It was essentially a cheat. This was the backbone of his success, and this time too, the guidebook allowed him to succeed without much failure. 

 

The end product was beyond his expectation. 

 

Soul was fundamentally stagnant. The growth of the soul was predestined from birth, and unless one knew a special way to cultivate the soul, it would not grow further from its predestined path. What Count Herbring did in this experiment, was actually introducing growth to the soul. With this, the once stagnant soul now could grow almost infinitely, introducing the vessel greater potential than before. But, as it was against the law of nature, there is a catch. That is, the soul could explode and perish the vessel, if the unnatural growth reaches its ceiling. The remnant of the exploding soul could be absorbed for a certain amount of seconds before assimilating into this world. 

 

This was Herbring's plan before Drunag killed him. And this was what should happen to Jung Hwa after her main body was butchered in the kitchen. 

 

In that prison meant for reaping the scattered soul, she counted her days numbered to less than five. The state of the soul forced into her was tantamount to a foie gras duck. Endlessly, she could feel the soul getting more massive each day, and although she could endure it with hivemind, now the main body is gone, she, a mere clone, cannot bear the burden of her own soul and would perish. That is her fate. 

 

This is my fate.

 

Normal humans, or any beings with intelligence, would lament the end that is approaching. But not her. From the beginning, her intelligence is merely a decoration. As the only human surviving from that hellish experiment, Count Herbring has done many precautions to prevent unexpected situations. Slumbering her intelligence was just the tip of the iceberg. The same could be said for her emotion. He even goes as far as planting the [Blood Brain Bug] in her main body outside to directly remote control or spectate if needed. 

 

Hence, even if she knew her impending doom, not even a ripple shown in her poker face. She just accepted it as it is. No dramatic wailing or blazing anger. It's just another Tuesday, another food, another drink. The concept of death no longer meant anything to her. 

 

Suddenly, her shattered memories recalled a story she once read. About a princess, locked up in a tower as tall as a skyscraper. Guarded by the dangerous red dragon, the princess was fated to stay there for eternity. But, one day, a knight suddenly appeared. Slaying dragon and rescuing her from the ill-fate bestowed upon her. 

 

There is no emotion. No yearning for hope, or envy. It was a simple recollection. Yet, for some reason, tears rolled to her cheeks. Incapable of feeling emotion or even thinking, yet her body remembers the reaction of sadness. But that was it. More than belief, more than conviction, she knew her fate was sealed the moment she set her foot here. 

 

Her tears meant nothing. A vessel meant for blooming the plant. That's her. 

 

Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, she could feel the numerous triggers planted in her cut out. Akin to a power outage, all the bugs, curse, bind—everything, cut out all at once. Thanks to that, her previously dormant emotion and thought surged like a tidal wave. The first emotion she felt was confusion. Her mind constantly asks 'how', and 'why', amidst other things. But, aside from her messy thoughts, one conclusion slipped. A notion that's so hard to believe, she almost rejects the idea altogether. 

 

The Count is dead. 

 

The evidence is clear, yet for her, the Count was tantamount to a deity. Now freed from various shackles, she felt fear instead of anger. He's an absolute existence in her world. 

 

"But why…" 

 

There is no relief. Hope was long lost from her heart. In the first place, she already accepted everything, and now, fully conscious, living like a broken porcelain was a given. She's gonna die in less than five days. Why would she hope for salvation, when despair is more familiar? 

 

The sadness stems from the fact that she's no longer a doll. From the fact that she will die, in full consciousness. Thought and emotion overflowing for the first time, overwhelming her to the point of madness. 

 

"Why now… of all time…" when my time is up, when the death is right in front of me, why—

 

Confusion was over, and sorrow draping her whole with the fire of despair. She was burned, slowly, excruciatingly, with no way to soothe the flame nor to alleviate the pain. Her mind, fully awake, thus understand the sorrow wholly, further torture her. For one who lives her life as a doll, having awareness is not freedom, but hell. 

 

What should I do? 

 

She can't even commit suicide, as the room was embedded with the magic circle to prevent self harm. She could only close her eyes, hoping for the slumber to take over. At least, if she did that, the pain won't reach her unconscious self. She let her body swayed by the gravity, held by the magical chain looming over her. Like a puppet whose string was cut, she fell.

 

But— 

 

*BOOOMM*

 

The door burst open. Fire tearing room, hole agape from the aftermath of that mysterious explosion. When the smoke was clear, the light illuminating her room fell over that face. With intelligence returning to her, it only took a second for her to recognize the intruder. 

 

The guest…

 

Unknowingly, tears once again flowed from her eyes. But different from before, she knew why it was. 

 

Hope. 

 

Salvation has come. After the hell she went through because of the Count, after the various things robbed from her, it finally came. She doesn't need seconds to know that this man, this majestic creature of holiness in front of her, was the one who killed the Count. And then he's here, coming to her. Like how Siegfried flies to Broomhilda, after slaying the dragon. 

 

"Dear, live long enough, until your purpose meets you. Then you would understand the reason you were born." 

 

Ahh, mother. I think I understand now. This man, this creature, this deity— I was born for him. 

 

In an instant, her gaze no longer waver. It was firm with conviction, wet with tears of joy. Her past agony was meant for this day. The fire of sorrow and the looming death above her head was no longer there. At this moment, regardless of the threat of soul explosion— 

 

—she experienced love.