Juvenile Delinquents (3)
“You’ve been enjoying all the perks of being protected juveniles up until now. And now Spider-Man here wants to give it a shot—just one time. You think that’s too much?”
Gulp!
They swallowed dryly. Their faces drained of color. No more whining. The ‘adult’ standing before them felt real now—they truly believed he’d kill them. A chill swept over their bodies like the winter wind wrapping around them.
“Yoon Byung-sik.”
“H-Huh? Y-Yes, sir!”
The kid’s lips were split open, one eye swollen shut, and he trembled as he spoke. His speech was slurred, a bit hard on the ears. He was the ringleader of this pack. The main culprit in the Wonju-dong convenience store assault, and the son of that woman who’d gotten a cheap perm and caused a scene at the station not long ago.
“Everyone’s gonna point fingers at you, but from your side, it might feel a little unfair. If you’d gotten proper parenting, maybe you wouldn’t have turned into trash. But the world has no obligation to indulge your tantrums. Right?”
“Y-Yes, you’re right.”
“And Kwon Sung-tae.”
“...Yes.”
The kid lifted his head, his face unnaturally pale like he hadn’t seen the sun in ages, crude tattoos scrawled on the back of his hand. He was the one who couldn’t even muster the guts to charge at Hyeok, just took the beating.
* * *
The day these punks had been dragged into the station and raised hell. All the parents came to pick up their kids—except for Kwon Sung-tae.
“What’s your deal? Where’s your guardian?”
That’s when the office door creaked open, and an old woman shuffled in with unsteady steps. Had to be over eighty. Her back was hunched, her clothes reeking of fish.
“Aigoo, Sung-tae, you rascal…. What’re we gonna do with you now…. I’m so sorry, officers. My boy’s caused trouble again. What am I gonna do…. I’m truly sorry.”
“Grandma, why’re you bowing? I’m the one who messed up. Cut it out!”
Sung-tae snapped sharply.
“Come on over here. Just fill out these forms and you can take him.”
Sergeant Hwang guided the grandma to a seat.
“I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. Those so-called parents up and abandoned him, left him with an old lady like me, and that’s why he turned out like this. He never knew a parent’s love…. It’s all on me.”
My chest tightened, a sigh escaping unbidden. It reminded me of my own mother, watching me with worried eyes every time a big case blew up.
“I heard our Ala hit someone? It ain’t much, but please pass this to those folks. I don’t have the face to look ’em in the eye.”
The grandma pulled a few crumpled ten-thousand-won bills from her pocket. The fishy stench clinging to the money stabbed at my nose.
* * *
“Kwon Sung-tae, you should’ve been good to your grandma!”
“Sob…. G-Grandma…. Y-Yes, yes!”
Sung-tae’s shoulders shook violently as he stared blankly at his hands.
“What’re you waiting for, Spider-Man? Aren’t you gonna kill these bastards?”
“Hmm. Doesn’t add up financially!”
Hyeok tilted his head, replying from behind the mask. I could sense his lips curling into a grin.
“The original deal didn’t include killing. If you wanted that, you should’ve paid extra!”
Ha! This cheeky punk.
“I’ll pay you later.”
“Aigoo, what kinda adult doesn’t know business etiquette? This ain’t jjajangmyeon delivery—it’s contract killing. No tabs!”
My neck cramped up. I rubbed my stiff shoulders and asked.
“...So what now?”
“Hit an ATM for cash. Killing trash like them is no big deal—can do it anytime….”
Hyeok’s calm voice made their bodies shudder. It was like casual chit-chat about dinner plans, except their lives hung in the balance.
“No cash on me right now…. And no ATM in this damn shantytown! Even upholding social justice needs cash. That’s the flaw in capitalism!”
Hyeok stifled a laugh from behind the mask at my regretful tone.
* * *
“Thank you! I’ll never do bad things again.”
“Thanks! I’ll live right from now on.”
Hyeok watched them limp away, then pulled off his mask. His eyes were deep and shadowed.
“I get it now.”
From the shantytown alley where the punks had fled, Hyeok spoke softly.
“I think I know why your hyung introduced you to me. Beating those bastards earlier…. It didn’t sit right. At first, I didn’t know why, but while I was hitting them, it hit me. Felt like looking in a mirror. Even with the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man mask on, I was just like them. A little better at fighting than my peers…. Using that to bully the weak ones…. Thank you.”
He bowed deeply and politely.
“I’ll chase my dream again. Life’s short—I don’t wanna end up like those guys.”
“Hyung-jun at the bakery said you should shine in the light. Not live like him. Hyung-jun’s a good guy. I trust his eyes.”
The kid scratched his head, grinning sheepishly, then his eyes widened as something occurred to him.
“But…. those guys. You think they can really change?”
“Those losers? No shot! Unless something really special happens, they’ll live like scum and die like scum.”
“...Then why?”
“Why let ’em go?”
“……”
“People are stubborn idiots. Sometimes we can’t help hoping for that impossible ‘really special something.’”
He tilted his head, hands jammed in his pockets, clearly not getting it.
* * *
“Hello, Councilor Park Man-cheol. This is Inspector Kang Cheol-gu. How’s Ha Yeon doing?”
- Aigoo! Inspector Kang. So nice to hear from you! Our Ha Yeon’s studying hard these days—total change. But what’s up?
Park’s voice was smooth and silky.
“I hear you sponsor a lot of arts and athletics students. Thought I’d recommend a good one.”
- If it’s a request from you, Inspector Kang, how could I refuse? Who’s the kid?
“Middle school third-year, elite boxer. Family’s poor, so he quit, but it’d be a shame to waste that talent. With sponsorship, Olympic medal’s a lock.”
I heard him swallow dryly over the line.
In 2015, a comet streaked into women’s figure skating: Kim Yeon-ah. No, Kim Hyeon-ah? Wait, the one who nailed perfect artistic scores and snagged Olympic gold credited her success to sponsor Jin Hwi-jae of Yeongjin Construction. Every outlet splashed photos of them arm-in-arm.
Yoon Chi-seop, Park Man-cheol’s longtime rival, had snatched that one.
Afterward, whenever Park got properly drunk, he’d lament that it should’ve been him.
- Hmm. If you say so, Inspector, of course I’ll help. But, ahem. That talented, really?
His tone probed slyly.
- Olympic medal material for real?!
“Absolutely. Sponsorship just decides the color—the medal’s guaranteed.”
- Haha. If you vouch for him…. Send me the kid’s contact now!
* * *
Seoul Family Court.
The four kids from the Wonju-dong convenience store assault sat in the dock, faces bruised black and blue. Heads bowed in feigned remorse, but their legs fidgeted nonstop under the desk.
The judge delivered the verdict.
“The juveniles’ crime left the store owner blind in one eye. The part-time clerk, too, suffers severe agoraphobia and mental anguish. These grave offenses warrant heavy punishment, but as protected juveniles, I issue protective dispositions. Yoon Byung-sik, the primary instigator, receives Disposition 5. He’s under long-term supervision for two years. Kwon Sung-tae, Im Jin-uk, and Sung-cheol-hyung get Disposition 4, one year of short-term supervision.”
* * *
“Fuck! We did the same shit—why’m I the only one with 5?!”
In their shantytown alley hideout, Yoon Byung-sik chomped a cigarette.
“Tell me about it. Two years or one, who gives a shit? Probation officer won’t even care. Just pick up the phone, say ‘Yes sir, living right!’ bullshit. Heh.”
Im Jin-uk lit Byung-sik’s smoke, kissing ass.
“Feeling shitty—let’s go joyride.”
Byung-sik spat phlegm and stood.
“Yeah. Need to blow off steam. Let’s roll. Hey, Kwon Sung-tae, what’s up?”
Across the alley, Sung-tae stared blankly at the dark wall, then spoke heavily.
“...Go without me. I’m done.”
“...What?!”
“I said I’m not going. Sick of this life!”
Sung-tae’s breathing quickened, chest heaving.
“...Grandma came to court. Couldn’t even get in, but she waited outside for this pathetic ass. Atheist granny clutching a cross and prayer beads, praying to Jesus and Buddha both. Heh, like that’ll work?!”
His eyes misted, thinking of someone.
“...Grandma lives hand-to-mouth. Diabetic, needs insulin shots daily. Skips work to come to court. You get what that means? Anyway…. I’m quitting this shit.”
“Wow! So touching!”
Byung-sik clapped, approaching Sung-tae.
“So now you wanna bail? Play the good boy solo or what?”
He grabbed Sung-tae’s collar, shaking him, blowing smoke in his face.
Then—
Thwip!
A whoosh of air, and an arrow slammed into Byung-sik’s leg.
“Argh! What the—? Ugh.”
Byung-sik, still gripping the collar; Sung-tae taking it; Im Jin-uk and Sung-cheol-hyung giggling with smokes—all their eyes bulged in shock.
Someone shot with an arrow in Korea? Unreal.
Even Byung-sik, pain shooting through him, felt more disbelief than agony. They’d threatened kids with lit cigs or cutter knives plenty, but an arrow? Scale was way off.
“W-Wait. This? Gah!!”
Im Jin-uk screamed in horror, spotting something late.
“Ah, shut the fuck up! I’m the one hit—why’re you freaking?!”
Byung-sik snarled, clutching Jin-uk’s collar through the pain.
“No, not that…. L-Look at that. The arrow…!”
Gritting his teeth, Byung-sik checked the arrow in his leg. The fletching had a 1cm Spider-Man face printed on it.
“……!”