The Gift of Eternal Life

Christmas Eve in Seoul was so feverishly excited that you could almost believe Christianity was the state religion. Crimson crosses dyed the city, hung with so many decorative lights in their honor that they lit not only church rooftops but the whole of Seoul.

If vampires really suffered at the mere sight of a cross the way Bram Stoker's Dracula did, the species would long since have gone extinct in the Republic of Korea. And yet vampires still existed in the dark.

The upscale residential streets of Yeoksam-dong were so narrow that cars could barely pass, but aside from that the mansions were large enough to give any proletarian a fatal case of envy. It was only natural that the Korean branch director of Flex Medical, a multinational pharmaceutical giant, would live in a house of that scale — except the man sitting in the living room was not Kim Yeong-ha. He was a Latin American man with dark crimson hair combed back in a sleek style.

"So. Gerda is dead? That kid named Han Se-gun must have some real skill."

He muttered the words as he leafed through the files. For a hunter to answer Tetra Anax's one-sided surveillance with open force was not something any sane hunter would do. Except, of course, for that famous Jinma hunter…

But for a greenhorn who was not even a Jinma hunter to challenge Tetra Anax — in hundreds of years of vampire life, this was a first. At this point it was less anger than sheer curiosity.

"What should we do? I don't believe our motto has ever been to sit around crying after we've been hit."

A human silhouette addressed him. The man shrugged, as if the whole thing were a nuisance.

"I never expected a hunter who can take three of us alone to turn up in a little country like this. Well, that detective no longer seems interested in exposing us… but Christmas is coming. Wouldn't it be nice to give a few gifts?"

"Gifts. What kind did you have in mind?"

"Eternal life, for instance?"

He said it with a cruel smile. When vampires spoke of eternal life, of course, they meant drawing someone into their kind. False immortality, spawning, the Embrace — call it what you liked, it was far closer to the literal meaning of the word than anything faith ever promised. Vampires really could live for a very long time.

"Ugly… You're truly ugly."

The shadow muttered it as if sickened. Even so, a faint tremor ran through the voice that condemned his ugliness.

"But that's exactly what I like about it. Well then — I'll go carry out the mission."

"Wait."

The blond Latin man stopped the shadow as it prepared to vanish.

"Merry Christmas."

"Pfft."

The shadow let out a short laugh and disappeared.

Se-gun pulled on a jumper and climbed into the van Detective Sim Gu-jin was driving. Fighting the vampires had been hard enough; cleaning up afterward was just as exhausting. The rifle was broken, the Japanese sword was broken, and the money sunk into homemade explosives and surveillance gear alone could have been called a fortune. The spider-pulling vampire had been burned to ash, so not a drop of blood was recovered. The one blown apart by explosives left only a lower body. The one dropped by rifle fire had been left too long, and little blood could be drawn.

"At this rate we're running a deficit, aren't we?"

They weren't actually in the red, but Se-gun joked about it anyway. Detective Sim answered in something close to a complaint.

"Fine. I'll break open my savings and pay you. But hasn't this just pissed off a sleeping lion?"

Of course Tetra Anax would not let this slide — and it was not as if they had ever planned to leave Detective Sim alive either. Silvester could control beasts as well, but for these creatures, using animals for surveillance so diligently was a kind of game. Like a cat toying with a dying mouse…

Damn it. I was originally going to negotiate.

Se-gun had to admit he had made a mistake. Phantom the Jinma had already shown as much: vampires were not particularly rational. They had already terrified Detective Sim half to death and still kept watching him. The man was no Agent Mulder — was he really going to chase ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the truth under threat of his life? Continuing to monitor Sim Gu-jin after that was nothing more than a hobby for them. It would have been better to pretend nothing had happened. But now that he was involved, there was no choice but to keep fighting Tetra Anax.

"Once we're back, put on a big show about not being able to handle this investigation. Get some psychiatric treatment too."

"So I should quit being a detective and become a lunatic?"

"If you want to live, that's the only way. Even vampires won't touch you if you're locked in a mental hospital. Surviving is what matters, right?"

Se-gun muttered it. The wipers scraped across the glass with a soft, gritty sound.

"Ah… it's snowing."

Snow on Christmas Eve. People with lovers were probably dying of happiness. Se-gun looked up at the sky with that twisted thought in his head.

"You said you have a daughter. How old is she?"

"Why? Interested? Sorry, but I'm not sending my girl off with a criminal like you."

"I'm just asking. What do you take me for?"

Se-gun tapped the window as he spoke. Detective Sim gave a short snort of laughter.

"Just turned thirteen."

"…At that age, what 'sending her off' are you even talking about?"

"You little punk. You should see how pretty my daughter is. Don't faint when you do."

Detective Sim sighed as he said it.

"I need to get her a present, though."

"Ahh. That. You'll only get hated for it."

"When a brat like you says something like that, that's what we call having no manners, you little shit. You ever try raising a kid?"

Detective Sim looked at Han Se-gun as he spoke. After the fights with the vampires, this young man — battered in one way or another — was not someone you could call a greenhorn. More than anything, the one who had cowered and trembled under this youth's protection had been himself. And looking at him now, the kid was young enough that you could almost believe he was a son.

Even for the headache of the Korean police force, this is less disqualification as a cop and more disqualification as a human being.

Sim Gu-jin sighed and pressed the accelerator.

By the time they reached Seoul the snow had already piled up to their ankles. On the radio, the weather caster reported in a distinctly buoyant voice that snow would fall nationwide — except for Jeju Island — through tomorrow evening, meaning through the whole of Christmas Day.

"Damn it. What's so great about snow!"

Detective Sim grumbled as he returned the rental and switched to his own Accent. Se-gun transferred his gear onto the XR-250 he had left in the parking lot.

"Do I need to build a tray on the back like an LPG gas delivery guy?"

He muttered and swung onto the bike. Detective Sim had to report ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to the station on what had happened, so Se-gun could not follow him that far.

"For now, go stash the il·le·gal gear somewhere first. No stabbing me in the back. If anything happens, call my cell."

Se-gun rubbed his neck as he said it. Detective Sim looked at him and nodded. When he fought, the kid was a demon itself — but like this, he was still young. About the age to finish high school? Thinking how such a boy had ended up living such a brutal life, it was hard not to feel pity. But Se-gun was already gunning the motorcycle and gone.

"Not the time for me to be worrying about that punk."

Detective Sim muttered and started the car.

As expected, headquarters was in an uproar. No matter how long Detective Sim Gu-jin had eaten police rice, and no matter that he was the officer in charge of the case, going down to the provinces without a superior's permission was enough to start a riot all by itself.

"Senior. This is bad."

Detective Jo spoke while glancing toward the director's office.

"The director nearly lost his mind when you just said you were going and took off on a business trip on your own. And now orders have come down from above—"

"I know. Shut up."

Detective Sim cut him off and went inside. The director was, indeed, under considerable low pressure. Sim walked slowly forward and stood before him.

"So. How was the business trip?"

"Yes, sir. It went well enough."

"Who told you to move however you pleased? Thanks to you, the upper ranks are in chaos! Inspector Sim."

"…"

Sim Gu-jin hated being called Inspector Sim more than anything. How long had it been since he graduated from the police academy, and he was still an inspector — there was no reason to enjoy hearing that. But the two of them were not far apart in years of service, so the director did not press his anger any further.

"Orders came down from above. You're off this case."

"I'm not getting fired from the force entirely, am I?"

"In any case, we'd like you to go back to looking after the kids."

"And who's my replacement?"

"No one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠has been decided yet."

The director closed his mouth after that. Sim Gu-jin laughed in disbelief.

"Heh heh heh. Even for mangy dog-cops, this is going too damn far. The case is barely cold and you're already burying it as unsolved? Pulling every investigator off it?"

Of course, in practice a single investigation did not take long to close. If police clung to one case forever they would collapse under the shortage of manpower. But to bury a case the moment media interest faded, with no conclusion at all — it was hard to tell whether that meant the vampires' influence ran that deep, or whether that was simply how Korean police habitually behaved.

"Detective Sim."

"No, no. I understand, Director. Then I'll be heading home for the day."

Detective Sim said it and left the director's office. Maybe it was for the best. Getting out of this business before he tangled any deeper with vampires was the way to keep living a little longer.

"Ugh. What a real headache."

Once Detective Sim was gone, the director sighed. Sim Gu-jin, older and more experienced, was an awkward subordinate even for him. All of the man's academy classmates were working at headquarters, so the director could not simply slight him as a mere inspector — and giving him special treatment would undermine his own authority.

"But this is strange. Why would an order like this come down?"

The director looked over the order sheet once more.

"Haa…"

Outside, Detective Sim let out a long breath. Detective Jo and the other officers all turned to stare.

"What are you looking at? I'm a salary thief anyway, so I'm going to see my daughter! Damn it!"

He turned away from their eyes as he spoke. At his age he had nothing proper to show for himself, and the older he got the more of a burden he became — he hated himself for it. But there was one consolation: vampires were real. The world he had known until now was not everything. Something else still remained in this world, and that thought was almost exhilarating.

Even if it was the base joy of a defeatist, the idea that vampires sat above society's winners was a pleasant one. No matter how much humans strutted among themselves, they were still pigs in the same pen — and that realization brought a truly surprising pleasure.

"Fuck. Hrk—ptoo!"

He spat in the street, an act that would easily earn him a fifty-thousand-won fine for a misdemeanor, and walked on through the night. He found himself missing his daughter, who had lived separately ever since the divorce years ago, with a sudden, sharp force. Korea was a male-centered society, so parental rights usually went to the father without much argument — but a juvenile-division detective who could not even get promoted had no capacity left to raise a child. So he had left his daughter with her mother and gone on living alone in quiet loneliness.

"Haa!"

Outside the station, fat snowflakes were pouring down. Choirs wandered the streets singing with obvious joy, and the Salvation Army collection pots rang with a cheerful jingle — it really did seem like a blessed day.

Countless Hollywood films spoke of family love, and countless psychologists claimed that unmet family affection left trauma — but the age had become the twenty-first century. Blame the development of IT if you liked. Children's social instincts, for better or worse, took shape at high speed, and by elementary school they had already become emotionally independent from their parents.

The result was that parents became little more than a source of money to their children — which was only natural for modern kids who were independent in feeling but not in finances.

Detective Sim's daughter, Sim Ae-jin, was a modern child in exactly that sense. Her parents had divorced five years earlier and she had grown up under a single mother, but the emotional impact had not been large. Jung and Freud would have foamed at the mouth and fainted, but for her it was simply normal.

"Mm. But this is a problem."

Sim Ae-jin muttered as she looked out the window. From the high-rise apartment complexes lined up across Bucheon, the view outside recalled a snowstorm in a land of pure white. The higher you were, the wider the view — and the more snow you could see.

"There's really no one who will buy me a present except Dad."

She muttered it with a touch of resentment toward her Buddhist mother. Not receiving the Christmas presents everyone else got, and not being allowed to wander the streets late at night, was genuinely painful for a thirteen-year-old girl.

At times like this, a father you did not usually see was ideal. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠A man who had failed at family life bought extravagant gifts out of guilt. Of course she had not arrived at that analysis with cold calculation — she simply knew it with a child's instinct, the way kids anticipate New Year's money…

Rrrring—

The phone rang. Ae-jin's mother snatched it up from the living room and immediately handed it over.

"It's your father. Take it."

Open disgust even rose onto her face as she said it. But for Ae-jin it was a call from one of her sources of money, so she could not receive it carelessly. She answered at once in a voice that sounded extremely happy.

Her father's voice on the other end still sounded exhausted, and for a moment she felt a twinge of guilt. But even that guilt could not overcome the temptation of a computer camcorder.

Detective Sim Gu-jin drove as he talked on the phone.