Precautions of a Snakepit - Chapter 23

‘Could the stories be related?’

Mr. Baek looked at the painting of Top Dog and tried to recall something. Perhaps there was a figure who painted in a similar style as Top Dog. He finally remembered his name, but was it Seo Hee-Hyun?

‘It’s a guess, but there isn’t enough evidence.’

There is no clear causal link between the two. It is only a guess for now, but if she was right, what is the relationship between Seo Hee-Hyun and Top Dog?

As she pondered, the meal was over. Won put away her cutlery.

‘That’s it. This doesn’t seem to be related to the escape. It’s just a personal curiosity. I shouldn’t read too much into it and the same goes for the old man. Whatever history he has with Dr. Madison is not relevant to Target.’

It’s important to keep in mind that getting sidetracked can get in the way of her mission. She isn’t a detective.

‘After all, it’s best to exclude as much information as possible that isn’t relevant to the assignment…’

Won made up her mind and was returning her utensils and exited the restaurant.

“Is that right?”

Won was stunned by the voice in her head. It was a question that seemed to read her mind, but the voice caused her to pause. It seemed to be neither male nor female, beyond gender, not even human.

In a moment of unexplained panic, she looked up to see a man with a very white face. Not just white, but white enough to make her wonder if he had some kind of disease. A pale that she has never seen before, perhaps a tuberculosis patient. His eyes, for some reason, gave her goosebumps. She’s seen the eyes of many criminals but never felt anything like this.

She felt like she was naked in front of this man. She felt like she was being pierced to the bone with nothing to protect her.

“To choose well, you must know well.”

‘Those eyes see right through me.’

“There’s a difference between choosing with knowledge and choosing without knowledge.”

With that, the man turned around and walked down the hall. Won stared after him, then sat down. Her legs felt weak and she could barely stand.

‘What the hell?’

While she was trying to comprehend what happened, a patient nearby spoke in a low voice.

“You’re surprised, right? Don’t worry too much, he’s always like that.”

“Yeah, he’s always been like that, blurting out weird words to creep people out. He charges you for clapping, but honestly, isn’t that a scam?”

“Clapping?”

“You know, clapping like a shaman’s clap. Male shamans call it clapping.”

Won’s confusion over the unfamiliar words was quickly explained by a middle-aged female patient. A man of similar age chimed in from the side.

“I heard he was a shaman who was worshiped on an island somewhere, but that clapping thing is medically equivalent to schizophrenia and dissociative identity disorder. I guess that’s why he was hospitalized. Tsk, tsk.”

During her hospital stay, Won learned that patients in the ward are quite knowledgeable about psychiatric diagnoses. Ju-hee, who is only 20 years old, recognized IED, a substance-related disorder, and other complicated terms despite being like a baby.

‘A clapping shaman?’

Won doesn’t believe in shamanism, but that man’s words were exquisite. It was like he knew what she was thinking.

‘Was it a cold reading?’

Cold reading is an advanced psychological technique that involves reading someone’s mind without any prior information. Psychotherapists use it in counseling, but scammers use it to pretend they have spiritual powers.

In that sense, people like shamans and fortune tellers are excellent cold readers because they make a living on it.

They’re good at picking up non-verbal cues like facial expressions, eye contact, pupil dilation and contraction, posture, and gestures. They can also indicate education level through clothing, hairstyle, and the words used. When they look at a customer and say something like, “I see your husband has found another woman,” or “I’m afraid your business is not doing well because of bad luck,” it’s the result of intense information analysis.

Similarly, it’s a form of cold reading where Sherlock Holmes can look at a client and, like a ghost, figure out what they do for a living, where they’re from, and what they’ve come to ask of him.

‘The problem is, I don’t walk around blabbing information because of what I do…’

The whole point of an infiltration mission is not to give away the purpose. If the enemy’s cold reader picks it up, the mission will fail and her life will be in jeopardy. Of course, Won had been trained to be invisible in such a situation, but he still noticed.

There is no way a cold reader of his caliber would be quietly locked away in here. He has already turned people around him into his devoted followers, so he would never be forced into a psychiatric facility in the first place. Even if he were, he could manipulate the medical staff into discharging him. He can start a religion and become a priest.

‘It’s more plausible to say that he found out because he is curious.’

Now, Won faces a new challenge.

Is this man Park Su a top-notch cold reader who could become the leader of an emerging religion? Or is he actually a shaman with spiritual powers?

‘I’m going to die.’

Won has had a headache at least once a day since coming to this place. There are so many suspicious areas and secrets in the asylum that is only the size of her palm.

She wanted to beat the hell out of him in a head-to-head confrontation, make him spit out the truth, and then escape with Target to end with the mission completed. It was so simple, but she is suffering because she doesn’t have the ability to do it.

‘This isn’t a movie, and I don’t know what is possible.’

Turning on her heel, Won walked in the opposite direction of where she was facing, but the man’s words stuck in her ears like molten lava and wouldn’t leave.

“There’s a difference between choosing with knowledge and choosing without knowledge.”

‘Does he want me to dig up all the secrets of this place?’

What difference would that make?

Won doesn’t understand. All she has to do is take Target and escape.

Humans must be animals influenced by their environment. She’s had shamanism in one ear and out the other her whole life, but now she’s about to be swayed by a shaman’s honey-coated tongue.

The locked ward is getting to her.

No, she should correct herself because she’s being disrespectful to a normal, medical institution by phrasing it that way. The abnormally closed space was making her feel weird.

‘When I get out of here, I’m going to have to get myself checked out for mental health issues.’

What’s bothering her is purely in her head. Won concluded and decided to ignore it, but the man’s strong presence, his strange eyes, and his comments kept picking at her brain. It was too much for her to ignore.

Won panicked. Mind control had never worked this well before.

‘Have I already marched to his pace?’

Or was it her instincts telling her not to ignore it?

As she broke out in a cold sweat, unable to escape the chain of thoughts that had her tail between her legs, someone hugged her from behind.

For a moment, Won thought her liver was going to fall out. Noticing her stiffening, the other person rested their head on her shoulder.

“Are you scared, noona?”

It was Ju-hee. She knew it before she heard her voice from the distinctive shampoo scent. Soap, shampoo, and lotion are personal items, not hospital supplies, and each patient uses a different brand. Ju-hee’s smells like fresh bedding in the sun.

“I was surprised because you came from behind.”

“From behind. It’s naughty.”

Ju-hee playfully whispered. Won was speechless but understood.

‘She’s old enough for that.’

Ju-hee was at an age where you think of dirty thoughts when you see a falling lead, talking about dirty things with your friends, and… well, you get the picture. It’s a natural growth process, so she didn’t want to overreact and unnecessarily hurt her. It was a sensitive time in life.

As an extension of that, Won didn’t chastise Ju-hee, who was hugging someone else like she was hers. Won figured she would get tired and let go on her own.

“Hey, Ju-hee, can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Why do you call me ‘unnie’ sometimes and ‘noona’ other times?”

It’s a topic she always wondered about, but never brought up. It might have something to do with sensitive issues like her gender identity or dissociative identity.

“If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to.”

“Well, it’s a secret, but I’ll tell my noona.”

Even without looking at her face, Won could tell by her tone of voice she was blushing.

“When I call you ‘unnie,’ I’m Ju-hee, but when I call you ‘noona,’ I’m not Ju-hee.”

“Um…”

‘Does this mean she has two personalities?’

In her heart, Won wanted to get a definitive answer but didn’t think it would be polite to probe further. Instead, Won asked another question.

“Then, what should I call you when you’re not Ju-hee?”

She wanted to know what to call him when he wasn’t “Ju-hee,” but he didn’t have an answer. She decided to categorize him as a man for simplicity’s sake since he was using the term “noona.”

“No one’s ever asked me that, so I haven’t thought about it…”

After a short silence, he opened his mouth again.

“Does noona want to make a name for me?”

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