Chapter 25
"The Bridge"
The rain poured heavier, drowning the city in a gray curtain. The bridge groaned under the storm, its surface slick and treacherous. The river beneath raged like a living beast, waves slamming against the stone supports, begging to swallow anything that fell.
Sung Ho's breath came in short bursts. His hands gripped the railing so tightly his knuckles turned bone-white. Across from him stood Xin Min—or rather, the thing that wore his skin.
For a long moment, neither moved. Rain pattered against their faces.
Then Maverick smiled. Not Xin Min's childish, mocking grin—but something colder. A smile that didn't touch the eyes.
"I know what you did," Maverick said quietly, his voice nearly drowned by the storm.
Sung Ho's heart lurched. "W–What…?"
"You killed Xin Min." Maverick stepped closer, boots splashing in the puddles. "You and your trembling hands, your little outburst of courage. You smashed his head, didn't you? Watched the blood spill? Watched his eyes glaze over?"
Sung Ho staggered back, nearly tripping. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came.
Maverick tilted his head, studying him like an insect pinned under glass. "You didn't report it. You didn't tell the police. You didn't tell anyone."
The accusation cut deeper than any blade. Sung Ho's lips quivered. "I… I was scared. No one would believe me. They'd blame me—"
"Of course they would," Maverick interrupted, his tone smooth, calm. "A quiet, pitiful boy suddenly kills a son of one of the most powerful families in the city? They'd string you up in a heartbeat. You knew that. So you stayed silent. Let the river take him. Thought it was over."
His eyes gleamed in the rain, pale fire in the storm. "But death is never that simple."
Sung Ho shook his head violently. "No, no, you're lying. You can't know—"
"I know everything," Maverick whispered, stepping closer. "I know you haven't slept in days. I know you hear the river at night. I know your heart breaks every time you see me smile at school, because you know it's not him. You know he's still dead. And yet here I stand."
Sung Ho's knees buckled. He pressed against the railing, trapped. The storm howled around them, but all he could hear was Maverick's voice—calm, deliberate, merciless.
"You've been walking toward this moment since that night," Maverick continued. "You created the corpse. You opened the vessel. All I did… was step in."
Tears streamed down Sung Ho's face, indistinguishable from the rain. "Please… don't—"
"Don't?" Maverick's smirk sharpened. "You want me to let you live? To continue your pathetic descent into madness until someone drags you away screaming? No. That would draw too much attention."
He leaned in close, his breath cold against Sung Ho's ear. "Do you know what I'll do?"
Sung Ho froze.
"I'll let the storm claim you. You'll slip on the slick bridge, a frightened boy too lost in his thoughts. You'll tumble over the railing into the river below. They'll find your body days later, bloated, drifting downstream. The police will call it suicide. Your teachers will whisper about how the pressure broke you. Your classmates will nod, say they saw it coming. And no one will ever ask what truly happened."
His words carved into Sung Ho's mind, every syllable painting the picture of his death. He could see it: his body in the water, swollen, nameless fish gnawing at his flesh, the world moving on as if he'd never existed.
Maverick stepped back, his smile razor-sharp. "No ripple. No suspicion. Just another failure forgotten by the world."
Sung Ho clutched at his chest, gasping. His mind screamed to run, to fight, but his body wouldn't move. His legs felt heavy, rooted to the ground. The bridge tilted beneath him in his vision, the river calling.
"Why… why me?" he croaked. "Why not someone else?"
"Because you saw," Maverick said simply. "And because you're weak. The weak are always the first to vanish."
For the first time, Sung Ho's fear twisted into anger. His hands shook, but his eyes narrowed. "You think you can just erase me? That no one will notice? I'll fight you! I'll—"
Maverick's expression didn't change. He simply raised a hand, pressing one finger gently against Sung Ho's chest, right over his pounding heart.
"You already lost."
The words echoed louder than the storm. Sung Ho felt his strength drain, his anger collapse into despair. His knees gave way. He slumped against the railing, the river's roar swelling in his ears.
Maverick watched him with detached curiosity, as if observing the final twitch of a dying insect.
"This bridge," he murmured, "will be your grave."