I Became the Leader of the Monster Circus Troupe

Chapter 198: Wonderland – 1

There were hardly any privately-run welfare facilities in Korea that were not connected to churches.

Generally, the preferred place for churches was nursing homes.

Elderly people had high voter turnout rates, making them easy targets for politicians.

During election season, feeding them a meal at a restaurant could easily garner dozens of votes from a single gathering.

Moreover, most residents of nursing homes were so frail that they could hardly walk in neighbourhood parks.

It was easy for the operators to control them, and there were fewer complaints from the local community.

On the other hand, day-care centres were the least favoured places by churches.

Firstly, children didn’t have voting rights, so it was difficult for churches to leverage political power.

Furthermore, as children grew older, they were less likely to comply with the facility’s rules and often caused problems with local residents.

Above all, church members with children felt uncomfortable with their church donating money to daycare centers.

With such circumstances, it wasn’t just a joke circulating among welfare workers that “there are no poor pastor couples running nursing homes, nor are there large churches operating daycare centers.”

In other words, while nursing homes were run by business-like churches seeking to expand their influence in the community, daycare centers were often managed by religious individuals deviating from mainstream beliefs.

In that sense, Jeon Eunggyo could be considered a unique religious group.

They had expanded across the country within just a few years of appearing.

The officially counted number of believers alone exceeded 500,000.

At the center of such explosive growth was the leader of Jeon Eunggyo.

He claimed to be the representative of God and displayed all sorts of miracles.

Among them, what enthralled the believers the most was his laying on of hands therapy.

Just by touching someone, even those coughing up blood due to lung disease or those with terminal cancer saw their conditions miraculously improve.

He prioritized providing treatment to the believers who donated large sums of money.

Up to this point, their activities weren’t much different from the numerous pseudo-religious groups that had existed before.

However, they did one peculiar thing.

They operated daycare centers.

They established facilities called “Jeon Eungwon” nationwide and readily accepted children.

Of course, there were conditions.

They only accepted severely disabled children.

If their purpose was to gather labor and support funds, they would have primarily accepted mildly disabled individuals.

If their goal was to expand their numbers, they would have mainly accepted disabled individuals with parents.

However, strangely enough, they took in a large number of parentless disabled children.

Most of them had severe disabilities, unable to use their limbs properly.

Because of this, even the investigative agencies specializing in religious organizations hesitated to intervene with Jeon Eunggyo.

The daycare center on the outskirts of Yeogokeup was one of the facilities under Jeon Eunggyo’s umbrella.

The majority of the children there were orphans, but there were also some foster children among them.

Number 41 was one of them.

He had a given name from his parents, but he was mainly called by his number.

Everyone inside was like that.

“Everyone, wake up! Wake up! Wake up!”

It was 5 AM.

The lights in the dormitory turned on earlier than usual.

The children woke up within the three calls, as they had been taught.

Though they had welfare worker qualifications, among the children, a young man typically referred to as a “guard” walked briskly among them.

Some had their hands or feet stepped on, but they didn’t scream.

They knew what would happen if they did.

Of course, some couldn’t make any sound at all.

The guard poked one of the children who couldn’t get up alone with a stick.

“Who’s in charge of washing number 41 today?”

A boy with a hunched back who was behind him raised his hand.

The guard kicked number 41 with his foot towards the boy.

With no arms or legs, he couldn’t resist and rolled over.

“Wash up well. You’ll be in front of people today.”

The boy with the hunched back carried him to the washroom.

Number 41 was still half-asleep, murmuring in a dazed voice.

“I had a strange dream.”

“What was it? Were you walking in the dream?”

“……Yeah.”

“It’s a crazy dream.”

He placed him in the center of the shower room.

Other children who arrived earlier were already washing.

Number 41 rolled around in the space between them, soaking his body in water.

After a while, a friend who had finished washing came and wrapped his head with a towel.

“I had arms.”

“You’re still talking about your dream.”

His friend grumbled.

It was an important day, and here he was, still half asleep.

“So, what did you do with your arms and legs?”

“I went on stage and performed.”

“That’s not a dream. That’s exactly what we’re doing today.”

The boy with the hunched back tried to turn number 41 over, but it wasn’t easy.

Since he had just applied soap to his body, his hands kept slipping.

At that moment, a big boy appeared behind him and helped.

“What’s wrong? You’re helping everyone.”

The big boy said with a thick voice, showing affectionate sarcasm.

“If you’re all late, we’ll all get in trouble.”

The boy with the hunched back chuckled happily at his friend’s friendly banter.

Today was the day of the “Dreamy Festival”.

It was a festival that nobody participating could not enjoy.

The Dreamy Festival was an event held twice a year, in spring and autumn, by the local government where special needs children were gathered for a day of fun.

Everyone on stage was a special needs child, and the audience was comprised of officials and related individuals.

Children from each facility came out as representatives to dance, sing, and perform plays.

After a day of hard work, members of the local welfare committee, along with guests with political affiliations, would visit to take photos with the children.

They would lend their support and shoulders to lean on.

Disabled children were just props in such events for welfare facilities, but they couldn’t afford not to participate.

Participating in such events regularly was a prerequisite for being recognized as an “excellent institution”.

This ensured better funding and administrative convenience from politicians and government officials associated with the facilities.

Representing Jeon Eungwon from Yeogokeup were five children.

Three boys got into a van, followed shortly by two girls.

The van carrying the five of them headed towards the venue of the festival.

It was the auditorium of a local private university located in the provincial capital.

Number 41 looked at the banner hanging at the entrance of the auditorium.

That was the official name of the event.

Abbreviated to ‘Dreamy’.

The theatre play they were performing was assisted by students from the university’s drama club.

The male student playing the role of the “Magician” today tried hard to put on a friendly smile for the children.

“Oh, hi there?”

All five of them could tell it was forced.

“Okay. Let’s rehearse the script. I’m the magician and… first, the protagonist?”

The youngest girl among the five shyly raised her hand.

Her appearance made the university students breathe a sigh of relief; she looked the least burdened among them all.

Honestly, based on appearance alone, she could easily pass for a regular child.

“The scaredy-lion?”

The big boy raised his hand.

He was bald with white scales covering his entire skin.

One of his eyes was bloodshot due to the scales contaminating it.

The magician chuckled awkwardly, swallowing a gulp of saliva.

“The iron lumberjack?”

The hunched-back boy raised his hand.

He made an uncomfortable expression and turned his gaze away.

“And the witch?”

No one raised their hand, but the university students’ eyes were directed towards one side.

Fairly speaking, it could be said that they were looking at the girl as she was the only one left who could be considered a “witch”.

But even if she had been called first, the same reaction would have happened, the university students couldn’t deny that.

Most of her face was covered in green nodules.

Only one area was unaffected, around her chin and mouth.

“Um, can you see… with your eyes?”

The magician threw the question but then abruptly closed his mouth as if realizing it was impolite.

The iron lumberjack tried to retort, but the witch stopped him.

She smiled widely and said, “Of course. I can see everything here.”

She pointed to a gap between the lumpy nodules on her face.

The magician awkwardly nodded.

He called out the last role with a slightly tired expression.

“The Scarecrow?”

Number 41 raised his head.

Fortunately, this time the magician didn’t make any impolite remarks like “won’t you raise your hand?” or the like.

The meeting started in an awkward atmosphere, but the rehearsal proceeded in a surprisingly pleasant atmosphere.

Thanks to the expensive ice cream bought by the students, the children felt more relaxed, but above all, the students recognized them as actors because the children all took the play seriously.

As a result, by the afternoon, they were chatting comfortably and laughing naturally together.

The rehearsal they had went smoothly on the actual stage as well.

Even the teachers and welfare workers, who had been casually observing the children’s amateur performances, couldn’t take their eyes off them once they started.

Of course, the children’s appropriate appearances played a big part.

The protagonist girl was so cute that anyone watching couldn’t help but smile, the lion looked genuinely ferocious, the iron lumberjack’s joints really moved like they were creaking, the witch looked truly terrifying as she was supposed to, and the scarecrow hung from the pole with its arms and legs spread out as if it was a real scarecrow.

Their acting was so immersive that even the politicians, who were busy chatting amongst themselves, occasionally glanced at their performance.

The children were excited.

It was the first time they experienced admiration in the eyes of the people watching them, rather than pity or scorn.

Especially, Number 41 got completely immersed in his role.

He felt as if he was really traveling and adventuring with his friends.

He mistakenly thought that the decorations on his arms and legs were his real limbs.

The part where he moved was originally supposed to be controlled by the university students, but he was so excited that he threw himself forward with his own body.

The pole leaned forward.

By the time the students realized what was happening and tried to pull the pole back, it was already too late.

Crash.

The scarecrow fell off the pole and rolled on the ground.

Screams and shouts echoed back and forth.

The play was urgently stopped.

Fortunately, the children practicing Taekwondo at the front hadn’t fully cleared the mats yet, so nobody was seriously injured.

But once the play was stopped, it wasn’t resumed.

Instead, a multi-level blame game ensued.

The provincial council demanded a report from the officials in charge of the event, questioning if the children were unnecessarily pressured to prepare for the event.

The officials reprimanded their subordinate civil servants, questioning how the welfare facility could be considered excellent.

The civil servants promised a surprise inspection of the childcare center to the director, who, in turn, brought in the welfare worker who had supervised the children today and spent an hour berating them.

And such love was also extended to Number 41, who had made the mistake today.

“No food for a day! Anyone who gives this kid a drop of water will face consequences together!”

After being scolded by the instructor, Number 41 was thrown into a solitary confinement room labeled as a place for reflection.

He lay on the floor without even having dinner, groaning in pain.

His body ached all over.

Hunger and thirst tormented him.

It must have been late into the night.

The door to the solitary confinement room opened.

Number 41 raised his head.

There, the “witch” was waving at him.

“Hi, Scarecrow.”

They had become quite close through this incident, so they called each other by their roles instead of their numbers.

But the scarecrow couldn’t readily greet her warmly.

Because he had ruined the play today.

Instead, he hesitantly asked a question.

“The instructor?”

“Is asleep?”

She shrugged and showed something in her hand.

It was a water bottle.

“Here, open your mouth.”

The scarecrow wanted to refuse.

He felt sorry to accept such kindness after ruining everything.

But his mouth responded to the sound of water on its own.

Before he could realize it, she had poured the water into his mouth.

“Endure the food for a while. If they find out you’ve been given any food or water, even a whiff of it, you’ll be in big trouble.”

The witch wiped the moisture from his lips with her sleeve.

Her hand brushed against his lips.

Her fingers were white and slender.

Even a pleasant scent emanated from her.

The scarecrow considered it fortunate that it was nighttime.

At least he wouldn’t be caught with his face blushing.

But the crisis wasn’t over yet.

She massaged his body all over.

To prevent bedsores from forming in places that had been pressed against the hard floor for a long time.

The scarecrow had to grit his teeth whenever he felt a stimulus, to prevent his body from reacting as if it was being pricked.

After finishing the massage, she got up from the spot.

Strangely, the painful parts of his body felt lighter, as if they were flying away.

The scarecrow felt a sense of regret for some reason.

“Then, hang in there. I’ll secretly gather food for tomorrow just in case the instructor doesn’t give you any dinner.”

As she was about to leave, the scarecrow spoke up.

“Um, sorry.”

“Hm? What for?”

“For today… I messed everything up.”

She laughed at his words.

“Haha, I had a lot of fun, you know? Don’t worry about it. No one blames you.”

The scarecrow furrowed his eyebrows.

It was hard to believe that even his closest friend didn’t complain about something.

“What about the tin can?”

That was the nickname for the boy who played the iron lumberjack.

It was shortened from his lengthy role name.

The witch stuck out her tongue mischievously and smiled.

“Oh, yeah, he grumbled a bit.”

The scarecrow felt as if he couldn’t breathe for a moment.

Her smile in the moonlight.

It was more beautiful than anything he had ever seen.

“See you tomorrow.”

The witch brushed his hair aside and got up from her spot.

The scent she left behind tickled his nose.

He fell asleep thinking that today’s mishap wasn’t as bad as he had initially thought.

Sixteen years later.

In a place far away from his hometown, a man once called the Scarecrow, now known as Wonderstein, woke up from his sleep.

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Chapter 197: Demon in the Bottle – End

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