Chapter 23: Scar of Blood

I ran back to the ringmaster, still ignorant of the dangers of frequent blood selling, clutching another hollow hope.

The ringmaster looked at me—who had come claiming to pay Gyesa’s interest—with an annoyed and suspicious gaze, but since there was no reason to refuse money, he accepted it without much resistance.

After paying the interest, I held my plan close to my chest and headed for Gyesa’s tent to bring him hope.

“Gyesa, can I come in?”

I pressed a trembling hand to my racing heart—half excitement, half nerves—and carefully stepped inside the tent.

It was dark inside.

On one side, I could see a lump rising under a blanket.

It had to be Gyesa.

“Gyesa, are you asleep?”

There was no response.

I quietly crouched beside him, swallowed, and spoke again.

“Gyesa, about your debt… don’t worry too much.

I paid the interest.”

Still, he said nothing.

His lack of response dampened my spirits a little, but I forced my voice to sound bright.

“I found something I can do.

It’ll take some time, but… I’m sure I can pay it all off.”

Gyesa slowly sat up.

His long hair, which had always gleamed, was now tangled and dull, neglected—just like mine.

That’s fine.

Once we start paying off the debt… I can comb it for him again.

As long as Gyesa regains his strength….

I ignored the unease flickering somewhere in my chest and tried to comfort him.

“Look.

With today’s money, I paid the interest and even bought you some taffy at the market—”

“Idiot.”

Gyesa muttered weakly, yet stubbornly.

“Huh… what did you say…?”

At some point, he had turned to face me.

A gloomy sneer rippled across his face.

His eyes, once sleek like a snake’s tail, were now rough and sharp.

“Are you really that stupid?”

“…….”

“I told you.

Being naïve is a sin.

You think you can leave this circus with pocket change earned like that?”

“…….”

Each word flew at me like a blade.

What hurt more, though, was that his eyes still held concern and affection for me.

Gyesa—who had thrown himself away for me—couldn’t give up on pushing me out, just as I couldn’t let go of his hand.

Even now.

“Every time you act so naïve, Aedong… it feels like my guts are twisting.”

“Gyesa.”

“You’re barely managing to pay the interest, and you think you can get out of this shitty circus?

Don’t you get it?

Our chance is already gone.”

“No.”

“Please wake up!

We’re finished!”

“No!”

My face drained white as I gasped for breath.

Silence fell inside the tent.

Gyesa looked down at me, panting, and twisted his lips into a warped smile.

“Get out.

I don’t want to see your face.”

At his words, I sprang up and ran out of the tent.

I staggered as I ran, breath coming hard.

This time, Gyesa was wrong.

We would definitely leave this circus.

I would make it happen.

“Hhk… ugh….”

My head spun.

I stopped, frowning, and exhaled roughly.

“It’s not over yet.”

I will never give up on you.

I’ll leave this circus with you and see you smile again—no matter what.

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood.

They say there are lab rats used for experiments.

My life of selling blood isn’t much different from those rats, but when was I ever not treated like an animal.

Why pretend otherwise now.

If anything, Gyesa was the strange one—for treating me like a human.

“You’re right.”

What is there to fear when you’re a cornered beast.

What wouldn’t I do for you.

Just watch.

“I will leave this place.

I will never leave alone.”

I clenched my teeth and swore it.

A vow carved in blood stayed deep in my chest, an unerasable scar.

“Miss, your blood type is Rh-negative O.

What does that mean?

Just remember it’s rare.

And there happens to be a wealthy client who needs this blood type, so there’s demand….”

“Then I can get more money, right?”

“Huh?

Of course.

Here, I added a bit more.

But listen—drawing blood too often isn’t good.

Look at your face.”

“It’s fine.

As long as I get paid, blood like this….”

Sunam, who made his living off blood selling, clicked his tongue as he watched the woman limp away.

“At this rate, she’ll end up in real trouble….”

Even though he secretly sold blood for a living, he still had a conscience.

She was so young, her situation pitiable, and her blood was needed—that was why he bought it from her.

But she came far too often.

Just how much money did she need?

“Tsk tsk, how strange.”

Yet thinking of the other side—the one who needed her blood—it wasn’t all bad.

Born into great wealth but frail, that household constantly needed blood.

It was hard to tell who was more pitiful.

“But still… that girl is the pitiful one.”

How desperate must she be to sell her blood.

And in weather this cold, wearing such thin clothes….

Sunam’s mouth felt bitter.

But bitterness couldn’t change anything.

All he could do was pay her well.

“Is Sunam here?”

A voice called from outside.

Snapping out of his thoughts, Sunam opened the door.

“Yes, coming.”

The visitor was a slender man.

“You’re here for the blood?”

“That too, but… the master wants to see you.”

“What?

Me?”

“Yes.

Can you come now?”

“If the boss calls, I go.”

Sunam quickly prepared and followed him.

They arrived at a grand stone mansion.

Deokchun led Sunam to the master’s study.

“Master, the merchant is here.”

“Let him in.”

The door opened, and Sunam entered Jipyeong’s study.

As always, Jipyeong was impeccably dressed in Western clothes.

Sunam’s knees trembled.

Whether it was because Jipyeong was an arms dealer, or because of that cold, flawless expression, Jipyeong frightened him.

“You called for me….”

Sunam bowed his head, trembling.

Tea was served, but he couldn’t take a sip.

Jipyeong went straight to the point.

“I hear the blood supply has been good lately.”

“Y-Yes.

Fortunately, we found a supplier with the same blood type as the young lady.”

“Can you tell me what kind of person this supplier is?”

“That is… normally confidential….”

At Sunam’s hesitant answer, Jipyeong quietly stared at him.

Sunam panicked under that gaze and hurriedly spoke.

“But if you ask, sir, I must tell you.

She’s a young woman… probably just came of age….”

“Go on.”

“She was poorly dressed, hair unkempt and light in color.

Very pale skin.

And… ah, she limped on one leg.”

Jipyeong rolled a small, round object in his hand, sinking into thought.

Sunam licked his lips nervously.

“Leave.”

“Yes?

Y-Yes!”

At the dismissal, Sunam fled the study clutching his pounding chest.

Watching his retreating back, Jipyeong chuckled.

“This is getting interesting.”

He tossed the small jade button he’d been rolling onto the desk.

It rolled with a clear sound before dropping onto the carpet.

“My luck is excellent.”

Leaning back and closing his eyes, he recalled the constable who had visited recently.

Just as the uninvited guests had foretold, the constable returned his aunt’s gold ring.

He hadn’t cared much—

an old woman’s ring meant nothing to him.

But the déjà vu he felt in that instant was pure chance.

Or fortune.

“Wait.”

Jipyeong stopped the constable as he was leaving.

“Yes?”

“That button.

Where did you get it?”

“Why do you ask….”

The constable hesitated.

Jipyeong didn’t answer, lost in thought.

Where had I seen it.

Why does it feel familiar.

There was no such thing as coincidence.

That was something Jipyeong knew well.

If he felt déjà vu, then it existed in his memory.

A born merchant, he remembered all important things.

As Jipyeong stared silently at the jade button, the constable grew restless and finally spoke, cursing inwardly.

It wouldn’t do to fall out of favor with someone like Jipyeong.

“Well… I received it as thanks after helping a young woman and a man one night.”

“Who were they?”

“They were badly beaten, hard to recognize, but… the woman limped… and they seemed to be circus performers staying on the outskirts.”

Jipyeong recalled the shameless pair who had bothered him the other night.

Now that he thought about it, there had been a ragged woman beside that pretty boy.

“She said it was a token of thanks… why do you ask?”

Jipyeong closed his eyes, arms folded, and pictured her face.

Beneath the look of a scruffy stray dog…

light hair and eyes, pale skin…

a woman with rare foreign blood mixed in.

“Ah…!

Don’t tell me….”

After a moment’s thought, Jipyeong exclaimed softly—then laughed.

“I didn’t think she’d still be alive….”

He covered his mouth, laughing for a long while.

The constable watching him grew increasingly pale with fear.

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