Tokyo: The Player Behind the Scenes.

Chapter 268, Section 11: The Heart of Revenge

(This chapter has no real-world implications.)

Half a day ago.

Seoul.

Park Min-woo stood quietly at the entrance of the farewell hall, waiting.

When was the last time I came to the funeral home?
No, after searching his memory for a long time without finding any fragments, he realized that those seemingly real scenes were just things he had seen in movies and TV shows.

In reality, he never personally visited the funeral home, the place where a person is formally removed from society.

His family had never had any close relatives or friends. His mother was missing, and his grandparents had passed away before he was born, so he had never attended any funerals since he was a child.

It's quite unusual for someone his age of twenty.

However, the most obvious thing in his chaotic thoughts at this moment was his assessment of the surrounding environment.

It's quite clean and quiet.

It has a faint smell of cleaning agents, with a slightly pungent odor.

His hands were covered with a black cloth. Police officers stood on either side of him, their faces expressionless.

The electronic ankle bracelet was a little uncomfortable, and he unconsciously rubbed it.

After waiting for more than ten minutes, the hall door in front slid open silently.

There was a single coffin inside, all alone.

A staff member in a dark suit stood in the corner in front of the microphone on the control panel and nodded to him.

"The farewell ceremony for Mr. Park Cheol-woong is now in progress. Relatives are invited to pay their last respects."

The officer on the left patted Park Min-woo on the shoulder.

"Ten minutes, don't make things difficult for us."

Park Min-woo nodded absentmindedly, then stepped into the farewell hall like a robot.

Whose funeral was this again? He seemed to know, yet dared not know.

He couldn't quite hear what the host was saying; it was like a muffled noise filling the air. He leaned against the coffin, slowly moving, his eyes following the deceased's clothes upwards. That peaceful face seemed so familiar.

"dad."

This dream felt so real. Was it really a dream?
Ah, it's not a dream.

Park Min-woo seemed to suddenly come to his senses.

The accumulated time of the past month, in the instant he realized it, was like strands of light, forming a tunnel that transported him from one end to the other.

It's as if he, before his consciousness collapsed a month ago, has traveled to a month later, after his consciousness has already shattered.

Yes, this is not a dream.

Everything he experienced during this period was real.

The fog that had been obscuring my mind was suddenly sucked away. The scene was still the same, the memories were still the same, but everything felt different.

He used to be able to cover his head and pretend he knew nothing, but now, his father is dead.

If it weren't for him, my father wouldn't have been fired from his company because of public opinion, wouldn't have desperately tried to earn money to get him bail and a lawyer, and wouldn't have died.

Crack! He heard the sound of his brain shattering. The shell he used to protect himself was broken. Reality rushed in, gripping his throat and making it impossible for him to breathe.

boom.

His legs went weak and his head hit the coffin, but it didn't hurt much. What bothered him more was the tightness and bitterness in his throat.

"Park Min-woo? Mr. Park Min-woo, please accept my condolences and don't be too sad. I'm sure your father wouldn't want this either."

When he finally recovered from the pain, he was slumped on the ground, and the host gently comforted him. Two police officers stood beside him, blocking the light.

"Next, we will arrange a mock roadside memorial and cremation for your father. Please rest assured, we respect every deceased and living person. Please trust our professionalism."

Seeing that his complexion had improved, the host breathed a sigh of relief and continued speaking.

Park Min-woo looked up at the police officer beside him, a glimmer of hope in his eyes, and pleaded, "Can I go to the crematorium with you?"

The officers exchanged a glance and gently shook their heads: "You've committed a serious crime. Unless there are special circumstances, the court won't let you out. It's almost time."

Park Min-woo's eyes gradually lost their luster, and he slowly lowered his head: "I understand."

He slowly got up, took one last look at his father's remains, and numbly allowed the police officers to help him out of the farewell hall, or rather, to half-support him.

He walked with his head down, his mind becoming increasingly clear, while his hatred for the instigator was also accumulating layer by layer.

His chest swelled almost uncontrollably, and his body trembled slightly, but because he had his head down, the two officers thought he was still lost in grief.

Reaching the entrance of the main funeral home building, and listening to the faint sounds of commotion filtering through the glass doors, a police officer muttered, "Damn, their intelligence comes fast."

"Heh, it's not the first time." Another officer looked at Park Min-woo with a slightly disdainful gaze.

The two exchanged a glance: "Keep your heads down and hurry up."

They simultaneously increased the pressure on their hands, practically dragging Park Min-woo along as they rushed towards the exit gate.

The automatic door opened promptly.

The deafening roar, carrying with it the scorching air and blinding sun of midday in August, formed a tsunami that seemed to belong only to the land, crashing down upon them.

Sweat began to be secreted almost instantly.

Park Min-woo raised his head and looked at the crowd that had been blocked.

The sharp sound pierced the eardrum:

"Those who rape women should be deprived of their ability to have children!"

"That's him! The woman rapist!"

"Go back to prison and die!!"

The intense sunlight momentarily blinded Park Min-woo, and this purely physiological stimulation caused his tears to flow uncontrollably.

With tears blurring his vision, under the blazing sunlight, what he saw first were countless overlapping, raised arms and the cardboard signs and placards they held.

The bloodlines of sex offenders should be severed.

[Sending you off to accompany your father on his final journey]

May the father of the rapist rest in peace!

In the backlight, he could only make out a few of them.

After he came out, the shouts became louder and more excited; the signs waved even more violently.

Most of them wore matching red T-shirts, wide-brimmed hats, large sunglasses, or masks, and launched a series of fanatical attacks filled with a sense of justice.

These feelings of justice transformed into countless burning needles, piercing Park Min-woo relentlessly.

Park Min-woo's trembling intensified.

He used to be afraid, but now he only has unvented anger.

His eyes were bloodshot, his lips were trembling uncontrollably, his jaw was clenched and making a grinding sound, and his ears were ringing.

His fists were no longer just clenched; the knuckles were protruding and the muscles were like stone, as if they were about to break free of their restraints and pounce on the writhing crowd at any moment!

He wanted nothing more than to tear those screaming faces to shreds; the surging hatred was so intense that it almost overwhelmed all his senses.

Boo!
A dull thud, with a sticky, wet sensation, slammed into my left cheek.

The foul-smelling liquid exploded instantly, splashing onto half of his face and neck, and a few drops landed on the epaulets of the police officer standing diagonally in front of him.

It's a rotten egg that's been sitting out for who knows how long.

Immediately afterwards, several unidentified objects, judging from their trajectories, appeared to fly out of the crowd or into this direction.

"Damn it! Keep your head down and don't move!"

The officer on the right yelled and stepped forward, using his body as a shield to block Park Min-woo's view and also to stop the messy little objects.

The officer on the left simultaneously grabbed Park Min-woo's arm and shoved him forcefully into a police car parked not far from the door, its back door open. "Get in!"

Park Min-woo's vision was completely blocked by the police officer's black uniform, and all he could hear was the officer's heavy breathing due to his rapid movements.

Behind him, police officers roared, and outside the door, the commotion grew even louder and more frenzied, filled with triumphant screams and insults.
"Hit him! Smash this beast to death!"

"Go to hell! Go find your father and drink milk!"

He was shoved into the back seat without any mercy, his body slamming against the not-so-soft seat back.

The rotten egg liquid mixed with sweat splattered all over his face, running down his cheeks and emitting a nauseating stench.

The officers then quickly squeezed in and slammed the car door shut.
boom!
The car door shut out the insane, blinding hell outside, a place brimming with pure malice.

"Ugh, damn it, where are the tissues? How long have these eggs been sitting here?"

"Hey, stop being so awkward, or we'll have to wash the car later!"

Park Min-woo's chest heaved violently as he raised his handcuffed hands and haphazardly wiped the sticky, foul-smelling filth from his face with his sleeve.

The rough movements were like scraping a layer of skin off a face.

The veins on the back of his hands and arms were bulging.

That vicious hatred pierced his internal organs repeatedly.

hatred!
This resentment, capable of burning everything, has been branded and deeply embedded in the depths of his soul.

The car started and left the chaotic entrance to the funeral home.

Nighttime, Seoul Detention Center.

“Mr. Park Min-woo, I am Kim Seung-hwan, the lawyer hired by the Federation.”

"After learning about your situation, the Federation was very concerned and firmly believed that you were innocent. So they hired me to defend you. To make a long story short, the evidence is currently quite unfavorable to you. I need you to recall as much as possible whether there is any indirect evidence in the hotel that could prove you did not drug her."

"The fact that your fluids were not detected in the other person's body is quite crucial. The charge of drugging is now the prosecution's core weapon, and to win the case, it must be dismantled."

Inside the conversation room.

A lawyer in a suit sat across from Park Min-woo. The lawyer took out his notebook and spoke in a gentle tone, preparing to jot down any useful clues.

Park Min-woo stared at the lawyer in silence, as if assessing his credibility. He didn't speak immediately, but after more than ten seconds, he finally spoke.

"I intend to plead guilty."

"Huh?!" Attorney Kim's eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at the calm-eyed man before her.

“Mr. Park, the Federation is firmly on your side. You don’t need to worry about the lawyer’s fees. I’m also part of the Federation, and I won’t stand idly by.”

"Perhaps you were scared by some irresponsible people and thought that you could get away with it as long as you confessed."

"But I must tell you, your case is being handled by the Seoul Southern District Court, and both the prosecutor and the judge are... In short, sex crimes are always severely punished."

"If you plead guilty, you will face at least five years in prison. Even after your release, you will have to wear an electronic ankle bracelet for five to ten years, have your photo and name displayed publicly for twenty years, and be prohibited from going near schools and children's facilities. Have you really thought this through?"

"This concerns your entire life."

After listening quietly to the lawyer's words, Park Min-woo slowly nodded, revealing a chilling smile.

"My life is over."

Attorney Kim's eyelids twitched slightly, indicating that she roughly understood.

"Actually, you're being targeted as a pledge of allegiance, and the mastermind behind it is probably WOMAD." That was all he could say.

Park Min-woo glanced at him calmly and said, "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Since you don't need my defense, a lawyer will provide you with standard legal representation. You can also request to plead guilty without a lawyer. Goodbye."

Park Min-woo watched him leave, and then a prison guard prepared to take him back to the cramped, unair-conditioned, and sweat-smelling six-person detention cell.

Suddenly, Park Min-woo paused, alerting the prison guards.

"how?"

"No, it's just that my foot is a little uncomfortable." Park Min-woo shook his head and obediently allowed the prison guards to lead him back to the detention cell.

Inside, some prisoners were lying on the bed with their upper bodies naked. They glanced at him weakly, then looked away, resumed their actions, and continued trying to fall asleep on the plane.

Park Min-woo returned to his bed, sat down, and stared blankly ahead, lost in thought.

The "unknown" has started a game; will you, who are qualified, enter?

【accept】

【reject】

He shifted his gaze, and as he looked, the options gradually lit up.

“I accept,” he murmured.

The square in front of me quickly disintegrated and disappeared.

Just when he thought it was just an illusion, a countdown timer replaced the previous box, as if it were etched onto his retina.

About an hour.

Along with this, a series of game notification messages also appeared.

Nickname: Park.

If he could only choose from his given name, he would prefer to use his surname.

After reading the game's notification, he vaguely realized that he had encountered some extraordinary opportunity.

Although he was happy, he couldn't muster any excitement.

Now, all he can think about is revenge, and only revenge can give him excitement.

If the game's rewards are generous enough, perhaps the plan won't have to wait until after his release from prison.

The first court hearing will probably be held in about two weeks.

He lay in bed, closing his eyes and silently counting down the days until the end.

"3, 21."

His vision suddenly darkened.

A sinister manor suddenly appeared before him at night, shattering everything in his field of vision. It materialized out of thin air and began to approach him relentlessly.

After zooming in to a certain extent, the bilingual name of Silver Cup Manor appeared before my eyes, and then the screen went black.

When he opened his eyes again, he was still lying in a bed, but the scene in front of him had changed.

The incandescent bulbs that were originally off have been replaced with candlelight, the light emanating from strangely shaped candlesticks on the wall.

The iron frame bed was replaced with a wooden plank bed.

Before he could fully regain his senses, a severe headache struck his head, causing him to vomit.

In an instant, a jumble of fragmented memories flashed through my mind.

Cotton, gunpowder smoke, prisoners of war, Andersonville concentration camp.
"vomit!"

The sounds of vomiting echoed throughout the room, clearly indicating that he wasn't the only one there.

After a few minutes, his brain gradually returned to normal, and the terrible headache subsided.

He slowly climbed up from the creaking bed and looked around. It was a square space with nothing but a lamp, a bed, and a door.

However, the walls were decorated with strange patterns painted in various colors, giving them a mysterious feel.

He looked at his arm with a strange expression.

So dark.

I rubbed it, but it wouldn't come off, so it probably wasn't dyed.

He's become a black guy!
(End of this chapter)