The night deepened, the hour when most people drifted into their dreams, swallowed slowly by the creeping darkness.
"Find him quickly! Don't let that murderer escape!"
"Yes, sir!"
Shouts shattered the silence. The cold night wind sliced through the air, dancing with the flickering torches in their hands.
Footsteps followed, mingling with the scraping of worn jipsin against dry leaves and bushes, adding chaos to the forest's previous quiet.
The faint moonlight filtering through the trees bore silent witness to the terror etched across a young man's face. Cold sweat ran down his pale cheeks as he pressed deeper into the forest, his eyes darting from side to side in search of a safe hiding place.
He had been running for nearly an hour. His breath was heavy, his chest aching. Yet no refuge appeared. He didn't know whether entering the forest had been a choice of survival—or a path to his end.
Then the moonlight seemed to guide him. Between the shadows of trees and wild undergrowth, he spotted a large boulder, partially hidden by bushes and towering trees. It looked secluded enough.
Without a second thought, he crouched behind it. His knees sank into the damp forest floor, body pressed into the darkest corner. With what little strength remained, he held his breath, trying not to make a single sound.
"Search thoroughly! Don't let him escape! Check every inch of this forest!"
"Yes, sir!"
The voices drew nearer. The young man's breath caught in his throat. Footsteps were now only meters away. He pressed himself as low as possible, heart pounding. His eyes squeezed shut, silently wishing he could vanish into the night.
But reality was far crueler than hope.
The moonlight that had once aided him now betrayed his presence. His curled-up shadow reflected faintly on a nearby tree trunk—enough to catch attention.
"I've found him!"
Everything happened in an instant. He was seized and slammed to the ground. Several hands pinned him down, making movement impossible. Before a word could escape, his mouth was gagged, his hands bound.
"You're just a lowly slave, yet you have quite the courage," one of them muttered, pressing his fingertip against the boy's head.
A muffled groan escaped. His eyes blazed with hatred. He struggled, writhing and shaking his head.
SLAP!
"Silence! When your master calls you a murderer, you obey! You insolent wretch! Take him away!"
"Yes, sir!"
No matter how hard he resisted, he was dragged from the forest by force.
Through the Night
The torchlight and lanterns illuminated the clearing at midnight. A young man knelt, surrounded by a crowd. Whispers filled the air, creating a suffocating chaos.
"Silence!" someone shouted.
Five men dressed differently emerged from the crowd. One bowed. "Please, take a seat, Master Hyeonggam."
A middle-aged man with a protruding belly stepped forward lazily. His official robes bore a crane emblem, indicating his rank. He huffed, then sat, propping his chin on his hand. "What is it now?"
"This is the child of the slave who killed the Kim family, sir. His parents were executed yesterday. The boy tried to escape, but we captured him," the attendant in worn clothing explained, tapping his staff against his waist.
"Disturbing me at night for this?" Hyeonggam snapped, striking his subordinate's head with a fan. "Useless!"
"Not my intention, sir. It's just… this case is a bit complicated," the attendant replied quickly.
"Complicated? You said he's a slave!"
"Yes, sir. But… he has no official slave registration. It seems his parents never registered him."
Hyeonggam stared intently at the boy. "Is that true?"
The young man only mumbled, gagged. He twisted, trying to loosen the ropes.
"Fool! Remove the gag!" Hyeonggam barked, and his men hurried to comply.
"My parents are innocent!" the boy shouted once freed. "Kim was the villain! He started it! Return my parents!"
"Quiet! Answer the question!" Someone kicked his back, sending him sprawling. The gag was forced back into his mouth.
The boy's cries erupted, full of rage and pain. His gaze radiated hatred and despair.
"Pathetic," Hyeonggam hissed. "Low blood will always be low. No shame."
"What should we do with him, sir?"
"Lock him up. I don't want to see his face."
"Yes, sir."
Two guards gripped his arms, dragging him away like a beast. He struggled with all his might, but it was futile. His muffled screams became a chorus of fury and anguish.
"Let me go…! My parents are innocent! Return them!" he repeated in his mind, as if saying it could bring them back to life.
But no one cared. The crowd bowed their heads, feigning deafness and blindness. Torch flames flickered as if silently witnessing the cruelty.
From afar, Hyeonggam watched coldly, spinning his fan slowly, enjoying his private amusement after dinner.
A quiet voice spoke from the shadows. A tall man with a cunning gaze stepped forward.
"If I may offer a suggestion, sir…"
Hyeonggam turned lazily. "What now?"
"That boy… of slave blood, but with no official record. Meaning… he's unregistered."
Hyeonggam exhaled lazily. "I know. That's the case."
"There's a hidden market, sir. A place that… appreciates rare 'goods' like him. No traces. No witnesses."
A brief silence. Hyeonggam lifted his fan, eyes on the man behind the silk folds.
"You want me to sell him? Like broken goods from an old warehouse?"
"Not sell, sir," the man replied with a crooked smile. "Just… erase him. For profit."
A small laugh escaped Hyeonggam's throat. Cold, sinister, grinning.
"Do it," he said curtly. "I don't want to see his face tomorrow."
"As you wish, sir." The man bowed deeply.
Hyeonggam stood, patting his robes. "Enough. I want to go home. Looking at lowly people too long makes me sick."
He left, footsteps heavy, fan snapping with each step. The crowd slowly dispersed, leaving the ground still warm with the embers of hatred.
Behind the walls, the boy's muffled screams echoed. But as always, no matter how loud, the cries of the lower class could never shake those above.
To be continued…