"Zodiac filmed himself killing someone," Jeongguk says conversationally. On screen, the medical staff are using some kind of godawful metal contraption to force Alex's eyes open wide and prevent him from blinking. He's strapped to a theater seat; helpless, unable to move. Unable to escape whatever hell he's about to be put through. "Tied the guy down and hacked into him with a hatchet. Busted through his chest cavity and tore out his heart."
Images of war appear on the theater screen in front of Alex. Guns, tanks, explosions—things that might pique his thirst for violence, but something is wrong. Alex begins to complain that he feels sick. Whatever injection the nurse gave him is beginning to kick in.
"Never in my life have I heard anyone scream like that. It was fucking chilling."
It's clear what the medical team's intentions are. They want to fix Alex with Pavlovian-style conditioning. Making him sick and forcing him to witness violence until the sight of violence makes him sick. A most unfortunate side-effect, however, is the fact that the background music to the war films happens to be Alex's own precious Ludwig Van Beethoven.
"I like film violence. I like watching bodies explode or get sawed in half or ground into pulp, but there's this detachment to it. I know it isn't real," Jeongguk continues. "Zodiac trained Dragunov on film violence, and that worked well enough, but he took the extra step to film himself butchering somebody for real. I think Dragunov fell in love with him a little bit after that."
"What about you?" Jimin asks idly.
Jeongguk takes a few moments to reply. Alex is extremely upset over the music. "The only people who truly know Zodiac are dead," he says, echoing something Jimin remembers Dragunov telling him, too. "Dutch knows him best, because he has access to Zodiac in ways that the rest of us don't. The person you've met has probably been very quiet and controlled, but that's just the mask he wears. That's who he's trained himself to be. He's a different person when he's on drugs. Less able to contain himself."
"That doesn't answer my question."
"I think..."
Weeks fast forward in Alex's world, until a medical conference is held in order to show off the team's success in 'curing' him of his lust for violence.
"...I think that was when I realized he really could kill me," Jeongguk whispers. "I saw him as a best friend, a confidant, a leader, but his entire existence is just an addiction. He's like a black hole; anything that comes near him gets destroyed, without exception."
An exhibition of Alex's newfound goodness is in order. A naked woman graces the stage, slowly making her way to Alex, who, on a good day, would have pounced. But he can't. The moment he reaches for her breasts, the sickness grips him, rendering him incapable of defiling her. A man then takes the woman's place, and he goads Alex, jeering at him, trying to coerce him into fighting back, but Alex can't. The abuse makes him ill, and he's forced to obey when the man tells him to lick his shoe.
Despite the test's apparent success, someone in the audience brings up the question of morality. Ethics. Free will. Does Alex's physical aversion to bad truly make him good? Has it truly changed him as a person?
Jimin is starting to realize what it is about A Clockwork Orange that Zodiac likes so much. It isn't about the violence, like Zodiac said it was. All things considered, the film isn't particularly violent. Alex did bludgeon a lady to death by accident with a giant penis earlier in the movie—which was what led to his arrest and subsequent imprisonment for murder—but it wasn't graphic. The truly sinister aspect is Alex's character itself, because he's so utterly convinced that he's a victim. Jimin has to constantly remind himself not to feel bad for Alex, that this is happening to him, because the reality is that Alex is an awful person. He's done awful things, and will continue to do awful things if left unchecked. He isn't someone to be pitied.
