Human Butchers (8)
[Our reporter Kim Dae-gi brings you the latest from the scene.]
The camera angle shifted, revealing the face of a young reporter wearing thick gray horn-rimmed glasses. The lenses were fogged up, and his cheeks were flushed with excitement. The reporter on screen took a deep breath, filling his lungs, then exhaled dramatically.
[Yes. Hanlim Hospital right now looks like a war zone.]
Behind the reporter's face, the chaos of the scene unfolded. Shattered furniture lay everywhere, and the piercing wail of ambulance sirens assaulted the ears.
[At 4:30 this morning, unidentified assailants attacked Hanlim Hospital, where Yoo Hyeong-cheol was recovering. The suspect detonated a homemade bomb near the hospital around 4:10 to distract the security forces guarding Yoo Hyeong-cheol, then slipped into his room and stabbed the lone patient with a sharp blade.]
A mosaicked screen showed the floor splattered with red blood and a wrecked bed. Behind the toppled refrigerator, the steel door of the hospital room was dented in multiple places.
[This is the crime scene. As you can see, Yoo Hyeong-cheol put up a fierce struggle but ultimately succumbed after suffering a total of 17 stab wounds.]
The reporter's eyes widened as he received word through his earpiece.
[Breaking! Police have identified the suspect under investigation. He's a jobless man in his twenties, an ethnic Korean from China. His name hasn't been released yet...]
"That motherfucker! After killing all those people, serves him right!"
"Chinese Korean means Joseonjok, right? Why would a Joseonjok kill Yoo Hyeong-cheol? Doesn't matter—feels damn good."
"Exactly. We really need to bring back the death penalty here. What's the point of it on paper? They say these guys just become kings in prison."
The voices from the next table over carried as we ate.
"Hyungnim. What do you make of this?"
Detective Kim Gwang-il asked me in a low voice.
"Who knows. Justice served, I guess. Let's eat. The sundae soup'll stink if it gets cold."
Ding!
I'd just turned away from the TV screen and picked up my spoon again when my pocket buzzed. A 2G phone. Not the one I normally used.
"Yeah, speak."
A hesitant voice trickled through from the other end.
- Uh, did you see the news? I carried out your orders perfectly. No civilians or cops got hurt, just like you said. The building and stuff took some damage, though.
"Yeah. Good work."
- W-wait, don't hang up! You'll keep your promise, right?
"I'm a cop. I keep my word. Next Friday at 11 p.m., Incheon Port, Pier 2."
- Thank you! I'll never forget this favor.
I hung up, and Detective Hwang and Kim leaned forward, pulling their chairs closer.
"Haven't seen that phone before. What's up with that?"
"Oh, just a burner for work. Nothing to worry about. Come on, dig in. My treat—penance for skipping two weeks."
"Whoa! You think sundae soup and pork soup'll cover it?"
After settling the bill and getting in the car, I tossed the 2G phone onto the ground.
"Hey, wasn't that a work phone? Why ditch it?"
Detective Kim Gwang-il tilted his head.
"Job's done."
The Jeep's heavy tire crunched over the phone.
* * *
The next day, the whole country lost its mind. Every media outlet exploded with follow-up reports on the Yoo Hyeong-cheol case.
[Shocking developments. The killer of Yoo Hyeong-cheol has been identified as a member of a Chinese Korean violent gang. 21-year-old Wang Eon-ching used a hand axe to brutally murder Yoo Hyeong-cheol. He remains tight-lipped about his motive. Wang Eon-ching was a member of a violent gang in Seoul's Dallim-dong. Police special forces raided their hideout right after his statement, but the rest had already fled. No known connection between Yoo Hyeong-cheol and Wang Eon-ching has been found, complicating the investigation. Meanwhile, public opinion on the incident is sharply divided.]
Dozens of comments flooded the article below.
- We should acquit him just this once, right?
- Bullshit. You have any idea how slimy those Joseonjok gangsters are?
- But why a Chinese Korean? Joseonjok are just Chinese anyway.
ㄴ Exactly!
- The demon slayed the ghost!
- Let 'em all kill each other off!
* * *
The appointed time Kang Cheol-gu had promised Ma Chung-hwa's remnants. At Incheon Port, some twenty shadowy figures gathered one by one. Each carried a thick wad of high-denomination dollars—cash plundered from Korean merchants and converted.
Finally, Kang Cheol-gu emerged from behind a small fishing boat.
"Everyone here?"
"Yes. Not a single one missing."
"Safe travels. Don't let me see you again."
"Of course. We have no plans to ever set foot in Korea again. How could we, with a public security officer like you around..."
They bowed repeatedly in gratitude and boarded the boat.
* * *
"That public security guy was a real devil."
"No kidding. Never imagined even Boss Ma Chung-hwa and Brother Wang Yong would end up like that."
In the boat, a mid-level boss and one of his underlings stared at the receding Korean shore, lips pressed tight, eyes dark.
"But why'd he let us go? He even arranged the boat himself."
"You don't get it? That cop bastard... killed people while pretending to be one! Three of 'em, even. If we talk during interrogation, he's screwed too, right?"
"Ah, that makes sense..."
"No worries. Anyway, we made a killing in Korea! This'll let us live like kings back home forever. Shame we couldn't squeeze out more, though. Heh."
"You're right, boss. Haha!"
* * *
The small boat vanished from sight quickly. As Kang Cheol-gu watched it shrink to a dot, a familiar shadow approached—Lee Myeong-ho, Gangnam Police Chief, whom he'd met through his father.
"Thanks for your help. Everything going according to plan?"
"Yeah. They'll be handed over to Chinese public security on the high seas."
"China'll tie up the loose ends for sure?"
Lee Myeong-ho gazed toward the vanished boat and let out a low sigh.
"At first, honestly... I got involved because of your father. He's a mentor I truly respect. But now, I'm rooting for you personally. From a cop's perspective, you're too dangerous. But as a regular Korean citizen out of uniform, I think we need more like you—people like you. You know as well as I do how limited what police can do within the system really is. Even if we bust our asses to catch 'em, prosecutors just claim no grounds for indictment, and that's that. I know the frustration boiling in active-duty cops. Anyway, be careful. That's all a senior can say. And those bastards? They'll never see daylight again."
"Thank you. I'll be in touch."
"Good. Take care of yourself."
* * *
"Detective Lee must be made for hospital food. Look at that glow—flesh filling out nice."
Detective Kim Gwang-il teased, shoving a box of Bacchus-D at Detective Lee Gyu-cheol.
"Get lost, will ya? This guy's getting cheekier by the day."
"Rest up good, think of it as a vacation, Lee hyung."
For some reason, Detective Lee Gyu-cheol, hospitalized, looked brighter than ever.
"I'm so sorry. Our team's already short-handed as it is..."
"Cut that out..."
"By the way... I heard the Dallim-dong Joseonjok gang just vanished. That Kang hyungnim's doing?"
"What're you talking about? I'm not that good."
I brushed it off with a grin and turned to leave, but he called after me.
"Hyungnim."
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. Truly. My friend Young-ho, the one who died—he can finally rest in peace."
"What're you on about?"
"Just... that."
Not long ago, Detective Lee Gyu-cheol had heard about Lieutenant Kang Cheol-gu's recent exploits from Detective Kim Gwang-il. How he'd gone radio silent for a fortnight starting the day Lee got stabbed. And how, upon his return, the Dallim-dong gang had been wiped out.
Detective Lee Gyu-cheol's eyes deepened.
Stay on that edge between legal and illegal... Do the things we can't. That's my powerless wish. But if you ever need this small strength of mine, just say the word.
We weren't even that close, but strangely, he felt drawn. Not obedience, but loyalty—to a superior worth following.
"Talked with Gyu-cheol hyung?"
With my eyes closed in the passenger seat, Detective Kim Gwang-il asked as he turned the wheel.
"Nah, just told him to rest up. Why?"
"He said something weird. To trust you, no matter what. Follow hyungnim through thick and thin. Kinda embarrassing."
"Heh. Sounds like he doesn't trust me."
"Nah, I trust you, hyungnim."
The kid paused.
"...Sometimes you're so light and sly, hyungnim. Makes me wonder if you're really a cop. But other times, you're scarily intense. Like... you've seen another world. Still, I trust you."
"Blunt kid. Why?"
"We sparred, right? Fighters all feel it when we mix it up—whether the guy's real or fake. You're the real deal by my standards. And the real ones? They never let you down, no matter the situation."
"You just called me a bastard, didn't you?"
"Haha, no way."
The car sped on amid good laughter.
* * *
"Mister! Wait up!"
On my morning walk to work, a girlish voice called out. I turned to see three or four girls with dyed blonde hair. Barely high school freshmen, maybe?
One waved me over.
"What's up?"
"Sorry, mister, but could you do us a favor?"
One sitting on the shop stairs, skirt hiked, spread her legs a bit. White thighs flashed, panties peeking.
"This bitch flirts and acts crazy around any hot guy! Psycho."
Her friend scolded, but smirked. Well-practiced tag-team.
The first one who'd called me crossed her arms, pressing against my shoulder with a soft swell.
"Mister, buy us some smokes?"
A 10,000-won bill fluttered before my eyes. I stifled a laugh and took it.
"What do you want?"
"Knew you were the real deal! Marlboro Lights, please."
The pressure on my shoulder intensified.
"If you do us this favor... who knows?"
She licked her lips seductively, face I'd seen in pornos.