The days that followed were a learning of a new nature. Living with another in his own skull was nothing like a peaceful conversation. It was a permanent negotiation, a disorienting mix of parallel thoughts and borrowed reflexes.
The first test was Choi Yu-Ra. There she was, suspicious but loyal, reporting the rumors that were spreading after her victory against Jin-Ho. The White Tigers were in disarray, but other factions, sensing a fault, were beginning to growl.
"Boss," she said, staring at him, looking for the man she knew behind her slightly changed eyes. They think you're weakened by the battle."
Kim-Do was listening. But another, colder, more cynical analysis was superimposed on Yu-Ra's words.
The wolves. Led by Kang-Dae. Opportunists. They won't strike alone. They will seek an alliance with the remains of the Tigers, thought the voice of the real Kim-Do, now mentally referred to as Kai - a simple, neutral name for the old consciousness.
The imposter - who always thought of himself as Do in his heart - grasps the thought. He didn't need to talk. He felt Kai's strategic evaluation as a foreign but precise intuition.
"Kang-Dae is a follower, not a leader," Do replied, his voice calm. He took Kai's conclusions, making them his own. "He will wait to see who stands up among the Tigers. Let's focus on that. Find that tries to gather the debris of Jin-Ho."
Yu-Ra nodded, with some of his anxiety fading. It was a logical, proactive response. It was Kim-Do. She could not perceive the silent collaboration that had just occurred.
When she left, the internal dialogue resumed, this time more explicitly.
"You reacted well," admitted Kai, without any particular heat. It was a factual finding. But we should not just react. We need to anticipate. Wolves are a distraction. The real danger will come from the Student Council if they feel that the balance is too disturbed.
Do felt a hint of irritation. Lee Min-Ji. Do you know her?
I knew her, Kai corrected, and a wave of mixed memories - respect, distrust, unresolved tension - crossed their shared minds. She believes in order. Our too overwhelming victory is a mess. She will investigate.
It was exhausting. Not only did he have to deal with external threats, but he also had to constantly filter out the thoughts, memories, and analysis of another. Sometimes uncontrolled flashes of Kai's life arose: the sensation of a fist connecting with a bone, the bitterness of a debt, the cold determination in front of a dying mother's bed. These intrusions were violent and left Do shaken, as if he had experienced those moments himself.
The worst was at night. Sleep had become a disputed territory. Do fell into a state of semi-consciousness where his dreams mixed with Kai's nightmares. He would wake up with a start, his heart beating, not knowing whether the fear he felt was his own or that of his host.
They established "zones" out of necessity. The fine motor control, speech, daily social interactions remained mainly under Do's responsibility. He was used to the body, the expressions, the tone. Kai, on the other hand, took over at times that required immediate combat expertise or rapid tactical analysis. It was like a more experienced autopilot taking control in turbulence.
One afternoon, while Do was training alone in a remote corner of the park - a suggestion from Kai to reconnect with the body's abilities - they were interrupted by a familiar presence.
"Always so disciplined, Kim-Do. Even after a victory."
Lee Min-Ji stood at the edge of the trees, observing as always. Do froze, his mind panicking.
Calm down, Kai growled inwardly. She's probing. Respond confidently, but without provocation.
Do straightened up, wiping sweat from his forehead. "A victory is only a moment. Discipline is what comes next."
Min-Ji approached, his scrutinizing gaze. "A new philosophy. Previously, you would have talked about consolidating power, hitting the weak."
She noticed the change, Do thought, panicked.
"Of course," said Kai, his mental presence stretching like a bow. Use that. Tell him that the battle against Jin-Ho made you think. That brute force has its limits. It's credible, and it's partly true.
"The battle with Jin-Ho cost me dearly," said Do, repeating Kai's suggestion almost word for word. He let his eyes hang over his still slightly bruised fists. "Maybe there are other ways to maintain order. Ways that don't exhaust its resources so much."
Min-Ji stared at him for a long time. The doubt was still there, but it was tinged with renewed curiosity." Your rapid ascent and the rout of the Tigers created a vacuum. The Council is worried about a war of succession that would spill over into the entire school."
There, thought Kai, satisfied. She comes as an emissary. It offers a market.
"What does the Council suggest?" asked Do, feeling the direction to take.
A truce. An official meeting with representatives of the main factions. To establish... rules of the game. Limits."
It was an unexpected opportunity. A chance to stabilize the outdoor playground as they struggled with their inner chaos. But it was also a potential trap.
Accept, ordered Kai, categorically. But imposes a condition. That Kang-Dae of the Wolves is not invited. If he is not included, he will feel insulted and act impulsively, revealing his intentions and those who support him.
Do repeated the condition to Min-Ji, adding: "The Wolves did not take part in the conflict. Their presence would legitimize their status. Let's talk between those who really have the power."
Min-Ji seemed impressed by the fineness of the maneuver. That was exactly the kind of political calculation she understood. She nodded. "I will convey the condition. The meeting would take place on Friday in the Council's conference room."
After he left, Do collapsed on a bench, exhausted.
It was good, Kai commented. His thinking was not a compliment, but an evaluation. You're learning.
"I'm not learning," Do whispered, bitterly. "I'm reciting. I'm a puppet."
A heavy silence settled in their shared mind. Then Kai's presence became less invasive, more... pensive.
You're not a puppet. A puppet would not have held the shock of my presence. A puppet would not have set me free. You have your own skills. A different way of looking at things. Sometimes naive. Sometimes useful.
It was the first recognition, however cold and pragmatic it may be. Do felt it, and a fraction of tension relaxed in him. They weren't friends. They were probably never friends. But they had become, by necessity, partners. Everyone with their strengths and weaknesses.
That same evening, at the Convent, they reported to Lyra and Joon. The dyad spoke, only one voice coming out of Do's mouth, but behind, the two consciences fed the speech. Lyra, with her sharp perception, saw duality. She didn't say anything, but her eyes were more intense than usual.
"This meeting is crucial," she said when they had finished. "It can give us the time and stability we need for the next phase."
The next phase? asked Do/Kai simultaneously, in a rare moment of unity.
Lyra exchanged glances with Joon. "Now that we have... stabilized the internal situation," she said, carefully choosing her words, "we must resume the offensive against the system. The doubt virus is a seed. It must be watered. And for that, we need access to higher-level control nodes. The regulators we contacted are not enough. We need allies within the very structures that the system believes it controls."
She posted a diagram. Faces, names, positions in city administration, in the police, in technology companies. People who were not regulators, but whose lives were influenced, directed, by the decisions of the system. People who, perhaps, might be led to doubt.
"You want us to approach them?" asked Do, feeling the immensity of the task.
"No," Lyra replied. "For now, you need to consolidate your position here. Win this truce. Become a key, stable figure. Let the system get used to this new version of Kim-Do. Meanwhile, we regulators will work to identify the most promising candidates. The day we need you to convince them... you'll have to be a legend. Not a gang leader, but a real leader."
Do looked at his hands. Hands that had struck, that had held, that had trembled with fear. Could they really become that? With Kai's calculating mind in support, and his own sense of survival as a guide...perhaps.
A legend, Kai thought, and in his mind there was not enthusiasm, but a dark satisfaction. That's a goal that suits me.
For the first time since their forced fusion, Do felt their wills align, not perfectly, but towards the same point on the horizon. The road would be long, painful, full of betrayals and fighting. But they would walk it together, these two shadows in one body, learning from each other, distrusting each other, and advancing, step by step, towards the fall of the god who had created them both.