Salt Fields (1)
“Officer... um, over there...”
I turned my head. It was Son A-young, the bastard's second rape victim.
“Thank you so much, sir. Actually, I overheard my parents talking yesterday. They said you've never seen chaebol heirs get punished in Korea. That the law sides with the rich, and people like us without money or connections get no protection.... But today, I felt hope for the first time! Thank you so much!”
A-young clenched her small fist with determination.
“Good. So what now?”
“There's a freshman welcome party soon. I'm going shopping for clothes. Gotta look pretty for it.”
Her blushing smile was pure college newbie. Not the soul-dead girl from a few weeks ago. My eyes crinkled without me realizing it.
I pushed open the thick courthouse doors. Contrary to the forecast of all-day downpours, sunlight poured down. In the distance, camera flashes chased Park Hyeok-cheol as he was dragged away, head bowed.
* * *
The moment Gwang-il's car pulled into the station lot, Team Leader Hwang and Gyu-cheol rushed out. Detective Heo Seon-sil followed a step behind, a faint smile on her lips.
“Lieutenant Kang! I heard! That fucker Park Hyeok-cheol's finally getting his due!”
“Hyungnim, I was honestly worried. What if he slipped away like a goddamn eel again? You really pulled it off!”
“Haha, word travels fast. Let's head in, everyone.”
As we walked arm-in-arm, someone thrust a soda can at me. Team Leader Seo Dong-gyun from Violent Crimes Unit 1. The guy who'd been baring his teeth at me subtly since I first transferred to Gangcheon Station.
“Congratulations from the heart, Lieutenant Kang.”
His face flushed like it pained him to say it.
“Honestly, we cops always manage arrests somehow, but I never believed that prick would actually face real sentencing. Not just me—every cop thought the same. This country's too soft on the elite. Today, you gave hope to police across Korea. Sincere congrats... and thanks.”
He extended his hand. Behind him, his team members flashed satisfied smiles and thumbs-up. We usually growled over case stats, but today—shattering cops' long-held victim mentality—we were all family. And in the shadows, one figure watched, lips pressed tight.
* * *
“Aigoo, hope you've been well, Director Gwak Jae-gyu. This is Gangcheon Station Chief Kim Dong-sik.”
- Ah, Chief Kim. What's up?
What the hell? That punk Kang Cheol-gu's fame is shaking the nation, and all he asks is what's up? Can't he read the room?
Kim Dong-sik's hand trembled on the phone. His voice dropped even lower.
“Yes, well... about those plans you mentioned last time. The ones to take out Kang Cheol-gu and straight up to Security Commissioner Kang Hyeok all at once...!”
- Hey now! What nonsense is that?
Gwak Jae-gyu's voice boomed through the receiver, laced with paranoia like someone might overhear.
- I don't know where you heard that crap, but if you're spouting bullshit, I'm hanging up. Oh, and I just heard—Park Hyeok-cheol's detention is confirmed. If I had an officer like that, I'd give him a few days' reward leave. You really don't know how to handle people. Sheesh!
The line went dead without so much as goodbye. Chief Kim covered his face with both hands.
Fucking bastard. Stir shit up first, then bail when the board turns? His breathing grew ragged enough to hear. When he finally lifted his head, a bead of sweat trickled down his forehead.
Yeah, not just today. That punk Kang Cheol-gu doesn't know I've still got my blade hidden. Cozy up, play nice, then slit his throat when the chance comes. Keep good relations till then.
“Get Violent Crimes Unit 3's Hwang Woo-sik in here.”
He barked into the intercom, sinking deep into his chair. Kang Cheol-gu's piercing gaze—like he knew everything—gnawed at him, but he shoved it down. No way. That bastard can't know my secrets.
* * *
“Whoa, hyungnim! How long's it been since we got reward leave?”
“Forever? Nah, first time. Heard your fishing's pro-level, Gwang-il?”
“Damn right! I'll stuff you with raw fish for a week straight.”
On the ferry deck to Sinseon Island in the South Sea, Gwang-il and I chugged canned beers, watching foam crash against the stern.
“Sucks Team Leader Hwang couldn't come.”
“He's the only married guy with a family among us, right? He's off vacationing with them. Gyu-cheol hyung and Heo detective are hitting the library for some joint profiling study. Who the hell spends leave studying? Beats me.”
Gwang-il shrugged with a grumble.
“But seriously, what wind blew through the chief to give our whole team a week off?”
“Who knows.”
Before purging a thorn, win their favor, strengthen ties. Chief Kim Dong-sik's sleazy routine. I pictured his awkward face, avoiding my eyes. Obvious moves like that mean no concrete plan to take me out yet. Just sharpening his knife in the dark. No threat to me now.
I'd considered blowing the whistle on his corruption early—peel off his uniform based on past-life knowledge—but shook my head. Dad always said: Keep friends close, enemies closer. A visible sword's less dangerous than a hidden needle. Maintain things with Kim Dong-sik like this for now.
“You sure you're okay? That stab wound hasn't even fully healed.”
“Tough as nails!”
His face darkened as he bellowed at the sea. I knew. After letting Park Hyeok-cheol slip at the scene, he'd tormented himself. Every time I opened his hospital door, rough breaths from push-ups hit me. Defeat as a fighter, guilt as a cop—all shoving him into self-made hell. He'd overcome it alone. I stared out at the sea too.
That's when it came.
“Oh my god, is that Detective Kang Cheol-gu?”
“And that uncle next to him looks familiar from TV.”
A strange voice pierced my thoughts. Early-20s college girls.
“OMG, it is! We're heading to Sinseon Island for vacation and run into you here.”
“Mind if we snap a quick pic? Bragging rights for my friends.”
Their fresh energy turned Gwang-il's face beet red.
“...Uh, arm around's a bit...!”
“Pfft, what? This mountain of a man blushing...?”
“H-Hey, I might look it, but I'm not uncle age yet...!”
“Okay, cheese! Squeeze in closer.”
As the phone shutter clicked, a seagull dove for their shrimp snacks. The shot captured Gwang-il's cold sweat, the girls' giggling laughter, and a gull slicing between us. Rare peace washed over me.
* * *
“Folks don't usually come out this way—how'd you find it? Drop your bags here; it's late, so dinner first or straight to fishing?”
Mid-50s maybe. The minbak auntie greeted us warmly.
“We're here, so let's taste your cooking first. Where's the spot?”
“Follow the road 500 meters, hit the pine grove. Veer right for the rocky shore—that's prime. Want a ride on the cultivator?”
“Nah, our ride's sturdy. We'll take that.”
I shook my head, thinking of the jeep we'd loaded onto the ferry from the mainland.
* * *
“That minbak auntie's super friendly. Hyungnim, forget cases for the week—pure healing time.”
Gwang-il's excited voice rang as he packed fishing gear in the trunk.
“Rocky shore, so 5-30 rods should do. Test with live shrimp? Your call, hyungnim?”
“......”
“Hyungnim!”
“Ah! Sorry.”
“What're you zoning out on? Ignoring me? Thinking crooks again? Rest when you're resting!”
I climbed into the driver's seat, ignoring his gripe. The auntie's gaze lingered as an afterimage. She watched for reactions 1-2 seconds after speaking. Locked eyes challengingly, checking if you bought it. Past-life lens: classic gaze of a confident perp. Common in cult suspects. Staring down strangers drains mental energy like crazy. Why would a plain minbak auntie have that? I shook off the suspicion and turned the key. The jeep's heavy engine roar tore the quiet island air. A faint waning moon hung at the low hill's edge.
Then—
Shh-shh-shush!
Something rustled bushes, piercing the engine noise. A subtle sound normally drowned out. I flung open the door, twisting toward it—a shadow darted away. Human? Or animal?
“Hyungnim, what? Better go while moonlight's up or it'll be pitch black—no fish-spotting.”
Gwang-il nagged, head tilted.
“No, something was here. Watching us.”
“Pfft, probably a raccoon or whatever. C'mon.”
He shoved me back in with his pot-lid hand.
* * *
Gwang-il's Pacific Ocean shoulders slumped limply.
“A week's unlimited sashimi, huh? Zero catches?”
“...Tide must suck today, hyungnim. Tomorrow for sure!”
He lifted the empty bucket weakly.
“Tonight, just eat whatever the auntie makes. She said her turtle hand dumplings are killer—local specialty...!”
A faint shadow flickered behind Gwang-il as he stepped from the jeep. He sensed it too, whipping his head around. Instinct screamed: the same shadow from the bushes.
“...Gwang-il. Don't move. Eyes front on me!”
His throat bobbed. I closed in step by step. Sparse streetlights on the island village. The dim moonlight felt cursed tonight.
“...Hey, you human?”
“......”
Shh-shh-shush! Whoosh!
The shadow bolted the opposite way. Dry twigs snapped, echoing in the silent village. Under the low moonlight, a short shadow stretched briefly.