Chernobyl Night

Leighton looked up in a daze, as if he didn’t understand what the word “compensation” meant in this context.

“Compensation?”

His voice was hoarse and dry, filled with disbelief:

“You… you injured me! You killed people! You stole my things! You even—”

“Did I tell you to speak?”

Elin’s voice turned abruptly cold, her gaze sharp as a blade; a single sweep of her eyes made the rest of Leighton’s words choke back into his throat, leaving only fearful gasps:

“The files on your computer are enough to rot you away in prison for the rest of your life, or to have you torn to pieces by angry parents, not to mention the prosecutor is looking for you — nobody else will help you because of this, and even if the hard drive is damaged, I surely have backups.”

Her tone returned to flat, as if stating a simple fact:

“Those photos alone are enough to ruin your reputation and have society spit you out. As for the source of the gold bars, that’s probably dirty, isn’t it? Oh, and your attempt to traffic students…”

With each item she listed, Leighton’s face grew paler.

“So—”

Elin leaned forward slightly; despite her exhaustion and weakness, that towering posture still carried crushing force:

“To compensate me for the psychological harm, the time lost, and for your vile act of trying to offer my sister as payment to this Dr. Harper…”

Harper, who had been bandaging on the side, paused for a moment but said nothing, merely pushed his glasses and sighed.

“I need psychological damages, reputational damages, time compensation… in short, give me one million.”

Elin pronounced that astronomical number clearly, as if stating something obvious.

“O-one million?!”

Leighton screamed like a cat with its tail trodden on, his voice going out of tune:

“You’re insane?! Where would I get that kind of money! This is robbery! Extortion!”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Elin expressionlessly nodded:

“Right. Call it robbery, call it extortion — so what? Do you want to live or die?”

Elin slightly tipped her chin, indicating the not-yet-fully-coagulated dark red stain belonging to the special-ops men, and the overpowering, nauseating smell of blood that filled the air:

“Or you can choose to zip your mouth like they did. At this point, do you think I’d suggest murdering more people?”

She lightly tapped the AS Val across her lap:

“Pick one.”

Leighton’s breath instantly froze.

He looked at the pool of blood, then at Elin’s pale, ice-cold face, as if seeing Death beckoning to him.

One million — though not impossible, pulling that kind of liquid cash together would cripple his finances — but he knew more clearly that if he refused, this girl who had crawled back from hell would not hesitate to pull the trigger.

Prison? Ruined reputation? Nothing compared to death.

“I’ll give it, I’ll give it—”

Leighton’s voice trembled with sobs; he completely broke down, tears and snot mixed with cold sweat streaming down:

“But, but I don’t have that much cash… I need… time to transfer… or to sell assets…”

He begged incoherently.

“Three days.”

Elin’s voice was like a nailed stake:

“I’ll tell you the place. Remember: one million, not a cent less. If it’s short, you’ll make up the difference with your blood.”

After saying that, Elin leaned back tiredly against the chair as if the ruthless extortion had drained enormous strength from her, and she began to cough, suppressing it.

But those violet eyes, through half-closed lids, still coldly locked onto the slumped, muddy Leighton on the floor.

Harper watched everything in silence, observing Elin’s effortless shifts between weakness and dominance, watching how she seized what she needed to survive in the most direct and effective way; his eyes grew with feverish, scientific interest.

This girl, every action of hers challenged his ingrained notions of human nature.

Sensing something, Elin’s gaze turned to Harper, her voice carrying a warning tiredness:

“As for you, doctor, watch him — and watch yourself. If someone finds out—”

“Rest assured, Miss Elin.”

Harper immediately bowed slightly with humility, his tone supremely sincere, as if the man who tried to hypnotize her moments ago were a stranger:

“I am purely a physician. I am only interested in the phenomenon of the patient. Patient privacy and your safety are my highest principles. Today was an unfortunate accident. He needs treatment, and I will continue researching radiation’s effects on body and mind, nothing more.”

“If Miss Elin is uncomfortable or wants help, you can come to me. Here is my card. Through this you can find me. I’m very interested in your body; perhaps we can cooperate.”

Elin looked at him for a long moment, accepted the card, and said nothing more.

This doctor was by no means benevolent, but now exhaustion and the burning sensation within her made her want to leave this place of blood and calculation as quickly as possible.

One million… the target at last no longer seemed unreachable.

Even if it was built on corpses and evidence, even if something inside her was slowly falling apart — she would get there; she would reach it.

In Chernoberg, to survive, one need do whatever it took.

“But this is the only time… Elin, don’t threaten me a second time. I’m afraid of dying, I admit it… but there are people behind me who fear death even more.”

“I can give the money, but… once the money’s gone, I’ll still die. If I die, others might still get the hard drive from somewhere else. Once those things leak, you’ll die too. So, just this one payment — go back and pretend you never saw that hard drive.”

Watching Elin stagger away, Leighton seemed to regain some courage.

He forced himself to stand and shouted at her with all his remaining strength:

“…I know, scum. One day I’ll kill you. No need for them to do it.”

Only a light, calm voice echoed in the room in return.

…

Elin did not allow Harper to over-treat her.

Who knew what would happen if she were fully anesthetized, so he only stitched up the open wounds and gave her two strong painkillers.

Even though the pain dulled, the weakness of her internal organs did not abate with the disappearance of pain; weapons that once felt manageable now weighed as though they were a thousand pounds.

The night in Chernoberg was cold; the biting wind scraped the empty streets like a razor studded with ice, lifting dust and scattered trash.

In the distance, the dark red flares from the giant factory chimneys at the city’s edge cut vague, oppressive silhouettes against the heavy night, like beasts lying in wait, breathing industrial fumes.

Streetlights cast dim, sparse halos that flickered in the wind, elongating and shrinking Elin’s staggering figure as it projected on the cracked, cold concrete.

With each step her lungs felt packed with scalding grit; each breath came with ripping pain and uncontrollable coughing.

Harper’s painkillers barely held down the flesh-level aches, but the invisible burning inside gnawed at her life force like a bone maggot, ravenous and relentless.

The AS Val felt like cast iron at her shoulder, pressing until it hurt; Elin had to steady herself with one hand on the rough, cold wall to keep from falling.

Shadows crept at the edge of her vision, tinnitus rose and fell like tides, the goal was within reach, yet her body felt like an old machine about to fall apart.

But in Chernoberg, night itself was a predator.

As Elin turned into a narrower lane with almost no light that led straight to the forest, a few hunched figures slithered out from the shadows of piled garbage bins like hyenas smelling blood, silently blocking her way.

A strong stench of cheap liquor and tobacco mixed with body odor hit her along with lewd whistles.

She would have preferred Whitney to show up now… yet the voice was male.

“Hey, little sister, out prowling alone in this alley at such a late hour? So dangerous — we ought to teach you a lesson…”

Damn it…