MPBGS 35

Chapter : 35

Merai led Lanan and Mary to the place where the other children were. For Lanan, it was the first time he had been here since being trapped in the basement. Naturally, he had expected to go to the bedroom, but when he saw the interior, he was horrified.

“Good children, you’ve stayed quiet and behaved, just like I said.”

The children huddled together in a corner, intimidated by the room. Unlike the basement, which, though gloomy, was livable, this room was particularly frightening.

The weapons hanging on the walls weren’t just for display; their edges were sharp, and signs of use were evident. There were chairs of unknown purpose, too. The entire room was filled with the acrid, metallic stench of rust and age. Lanan gagged.

“Yulma…”

Even worse, Yulma was tied up. The once rowdy Yulma now hung limply, exhausted. Fortunately, it seemed she had only been restrained—there were no visible injuries.

“You disappeared and failed to take good care of your siblings, so we punished Yulma.”

The director whispered into Lanan’s ear, then pushed Lanan and Mary into the room.

“Behave badly again, and you’ll end up like Yulma.”

The director’s voice, strangely tender despite the nightmare-like context, almost like singing a lullaby to soothe a restless child, made Mary want to cry.

“My dear children, you know how much I care for you, right? I have something to fetch, so wait quietly for me. Keep your mouths shut and stay completely still. Understood?”

The director made eye contact with each child to emphasize the warning, then locked the door and left. Lanan waited until the sound of footsteps faded, then tried the door handle—but only heard a click and realized it was firmly locked.

Mary hurried to Yulma.

“Y-Yulma, what should we do…”

Mary’s sobs threatened to break out, but a younger orphan put a finger to her lips, silently signaling for caution. Mary, as the older one, nodded and kept her mouth shut.

Meanwhile, Lanan picked up a massive, scissor-like tool from the wall. Pushing aside curiosity about its purpose, he used it to cut Yulma’s ropes. Once the gag was removed, Yulma exhaled heavily, spitting saliva.

“I… I’m sorry, Yulma… It must hurt because of me.”

“Hah… You weren’t the one who tied me up, yet you feel sorry for everything.”

The director had explained at length that Yulma was being punished in the children’s place, but Yulma was not the type to accept that explanation blindly.

“Are you hurt?”

“No. They just tied me up as punishment, that’s all.”

Lanan helped Yulma sit up. When the children gathered around, asking if she was okay, Yulma brushed them off, saying it was noisy.

“But is it really okay to untie me? What if they come back and punish me again?”

“It’s fine.”

Lanan reassured her, explaining he had heard Troy’s footsteps with others entering earlier, and the director had been very anxious because of it.

“They’ve probably gone upstairs. Maybe… Troy might even come to save us.”

“That’s impossible—Troy? What if he comes back empty-handed and the director returns?”

“I’ll handle it if that happens.”

Through Lanan’s answer, Yulma realized that if the director returned, Lanan might use the tools on the wall.

Is this crazy? Hurting someone with a clear mind is not easy. Especially when the target is the director, who had been like a parent despite the betrayal. Lanan had always been the director’s most obedient. Even after using weapons, he would be wracked with guilt.

Annoyed, Yulma smirked.

“Then after that, where will you take all the kids? Another orphanage? Or to Daisy?”

“Is there another choice? Do you want to wait here and see what happens? Yulma, you’re smart—you know that all these tools have been used before.”

Yulma and Lanan had thought they might be sold. Even after being locked in the basement, they were fed regularly and not physically harmed.

But being brought into a room like this suggested there could be corporal punishment in the future. Perhaps some of the children who disappeared under the guise of adoption had already suffered.

“And there’s Troy.”

Lanan still didn’t understand why Yulma trusted Troy so much. Yulma touched the scar on her arm—a wound Troy had inflicted. The planned adoption had been canceled because of it, and Yulma had remained at the orphanage ever since.

Trust Troy? The same boy who always shouted that this orphanage should burn?

Yulma even wondered if Troy had done this intentionally. Returning to an empty orphanage and bringing others might have been a deliberate act. Was that too hopeful?

“Okay… fine. Staying here won’t help anyway.”

With no other choice, they decided to trust him for now. After Yulma persuaded the children, things moved quickly. She instructed them to go to the corners and stay put.

“No matter what you hear, don’t look back.”

The younger children didn’t need to bear collective responsibility.

“Yulma, I hear something. They might be coming back.”

Lanan stood by the door with a weapon. Yulma swallowed hard. The lock clicked, and the door opened.

The children thought the director had gone upstairs, but he was actually standing in front of a man bound in chains. The man’s arms were scratched raw, and blood dripped down from the wounds.

“It’s been ten days already. Aren’t you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry.”

Especially now, with the smell of blood so close, it was impossible not to feel appetite. Melek swallowed hard.

“Then why aren’t you eating?”

The director tilted his head in confusion.

“I don’t eat people, especially children.”

“Not eating?”

The director’s lips twisted into a bizarre grin, then he laughed loudly.

“Ha ha ha ha ha! That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He laughed until tears came to his eyes.

“You devil… Twenty years ago, you chewed children alive, burned them for fun, and now you refuse a sacrifice?”

Twenty years ago, when the director was still called Merai, Merai was a child at the Ainoa Orphanage.

Merai had been exceptionally clever, and the director had admired her cunning. To the extent that the director even shared her own vile deeds with Merai.

Two days ago, a bratty child boasting about being adopted by a wealthy couple was found almost at death in the basement torture room—the first day Merai went down. Other children thought to have left the orphanage were also suffering underground.

Over the screams, moans, and gasps of the children, one laughter echoed—the director, who cherished Merai, smiled at the horrific scene as if watching a comedy.

The director held Merai’s gaze to prevent her from looking away:

“Merai, that is a demon that grants wishes. Pleasing the demon will earn you rewards. All your food and clothes come from money given by the demon.”

And when the one-act play for the demon ended, the demon tipped the theater owner.

“You know I think of you especially, right? Merai, you’ll help the director from now on.”

From then, Merai assisted the director for two years. By then, no other child at the orphanage was older than her.

This seemingly endless praise ended when sorcerers began being captured in the shrine. Many were executed for being sorcerers or conspirators, and Ainoa Orphanage was not exempt.

The director locked the basement doors and hastily destroyed all records.

“Merai, did you report it? You didn’t, did you?”

Still, someone figured it out—perhaps fearing someone would falsely accuse them. The director was accused of sorcery and burned at the stake.

Merai inherited the orphanage and the useless children. Legally, she had been adopted as the director’s daughter. She ran the orphanage again, with children clinging to her as the oldest figure.

“I’m hungry, sister.”

“Sis, what should we do now?”

Initially, the orphanage ran reasonably well on the director’s money. But as funds dwindled and Troy was born, everything went wrong. The children were starving and cold. Money was insufficient.

Merai, desperate, remembered the director and, on a whim, opened the basement door. The demon was gone. It seemed too bored to linger.

Without the demon, Merai took a different approach—selling children to slave traders.

She did so secretly, ensuring the children didn’t notice, bribing even the shrine priests to avoid following the director’s footsteps. Over time, her reputation drew customers.

Merai used the money to feed and care for the remaining children. Yet even one ransom only lasted six months. Troy frequently interfered, disrupting deals. Merai never told him the truth, yet he somehow found out.

As a child, that was manageable. But Troy’s defiance grew, and recently he demanded the orphanage building as collateral for a large sum, insisting she hand it over.

Was he really such a cruel son, unconcerned that the children would starve without her?