THE TRUTH OF SOCIETY- V

Chapter 20: The Seeds of Hatred

The night was unusually quiet, too quiet for a city that once screamed with life. Beneath the broken clinic's remains, Ji-ho and Ye-jun sat in silence, the flickering flame of a candle casting shadows across their tired faces.

Neither of them spoke.

But the silence screamed louder than words ever could.

Ji-ho's gaze was fixed on the pendant around his neck—only he could see it. To others, it was invisible, like the truth they tried so desperately to show. Every flicker of its eerie light reminded him of the weight he carried, of the blood-soaked road he had chosen. But what burned deeper than vengeance now… was hatred. Not just toward the ten, or the Devil's Association, but toward the world itself.

"Do you remember, Ye-jun," Ji-ho finally spoke, voice low, eyes distant, "how they smiled at us when Father opened the clinic?"

Ye-jun's fists clenched. "Yeah. They used to bring flowers. Gifts. They said... they were proud."

Ji-ho scoffed bitterly. "And when the monsters came, when our parents were torn apart... What did they do?"

"They shut their doors." Ye-jun's voice cracked. "They hid. They watched from their windows... and said nothing."

The brothers sat in that hatred together. It wasn't a sudden eruption—it was a slow, agonizing burn. The type of hatred that seeped into the bones. Not born from a moment, but from betrayal after betrayal.

"They let them do it," Ji-ho whispered, as if admitting it out loud made it more real. "They let those bastards experiment on children. They knew."

"We gave them everything," Ye-jun spat. "We bled to bring them the truth. And they spat in our faces."

Ji-ho's jaw tightened. "Not because they didn't believe us. Because they were scared. Because the Devil's Association wears power like a crown—and they'd rather kneel than stand beside us."

The memory of the trial flashed in their minds.

Ji-ho screaming in chains.

Ye-jun beaten and bruised, thrown across the floor.

And the crowd—the crowd who once bowed to their parents—cheering for the President, the man who orchestrated everything.

"They let them call us criminals," Ye-jun said, his voice breaking. "They watched you bleed and clapped when they asked for more. They want power, Ji-ho. Even if it means selling their souls."

Ji-ho stood, his silhouette bathed in the soft glow of the firelight. His once-human eyes glowed with something darker now—clarity. A cold, unwavering understanding.

"This society doesn't deserve saving," he muttered. "It needs to be rebuilt. Brick by brick. Flame by flame."

"And we're the ones to do it," Ye-jun said firmly, standing beside him. "Not for justice. Not for revenge."

"But to make sure no one else ever has to go through what we did," Ji-ho finished.

They stood in silence again, but this time not from pain—from purpose.

Hatred, they realized, could destroy you.

But if wielded right... it could also be a weapon.

And in a world where power ruled, Ji-ho and Ye-jun would become the storm.