บท 69: A Bloody Day

Unexpectedly, Sungho dreamed about his little brother again today: where he and his little brother went home from the hunt without anything bad happening to them. No wolves at all. Even the deer he failed to hunt down was effortlessly hounded and shot. He wore it on his shoulder as if it was a sack bag, its pouring wine liquid descended from his thick clothing to his pants. 

He had nightmares for the rest of the days he had been staying in this goddamn place. Moving around and trying his best to portray the body as an obedient vessel he was, Sungho felt as if he was doing it naturally. As though he was the one who originally owned the body.

Perhaps. It was because he had been hanging around just what his new body remembered, helping him do them spontaneously as though he was authentic and genuine.