Faceless Killer (6)
“Is that so? Anyway, you really worked hard today.”
“Nah, it's nothing. Of course I had to help take down a psycho like that.”
“I'll need your help again. You good with that?”
“Of course. Call me anytime. Especially after getting paid this handsomely. I'll go beyond customer satisfaction—straight to customer awe!”
I didn't mind the guy's face as he sniffed the cash in the shopping bag.
* * *
“Heh heh. Kekeke!”
A low chuckle leaked from the top-floor penthouse.
“Ahahaha!”
The laughter he'd stifled to avoid being heard by others exploded, filling the room with uncontrollable echoes.
“...Ahh! This is why I can't quit.”
Once he'd calmed, the falsetto voice steadied a bit.
Intense death? Mortality? Eternal life? All bullshit.
And there are people even worse than dogs, throwing their lives away for such nonsense.
And heaven's on my side!
This prey lived and worked right in Gangcheon-gu. No need to painstakingly pick a spot like last time with the Yangji Stream case.
He bowed his head and peered out the window.
The line of cars looked like a chain of fireflies, tails linked end to end. Moths joyfully hurling themselves toward death.
His lips curled into a cold smirk.
* * *
Caught in rush hour, the drive back was worse than usual.
The city's night glowed brighter than day under neon signs and streetlights.
Thinking of that bastard out there somewhere, baring hidden fangs in this dazzling blaze while hunting victims, made my blood boil in reverse.
For a monster toying with human lives, it was only fair I bill him with his own.
I pulled up a contact on my phone.
Lee Myeong-ho, Gangnam Police Chief.
He'd helped during the Joseonjok gang case before, and he was one of the few who knew my style pushed past regular cop limits.
Recently appointed head of the 22nd Police Guard Unit for presidential protection.
“Hello, sir. This is Lieutenant Kang Cheol-gu. Sorry to call so late. First off, congratulations on your promotion.”
– What? Who is this? Lieutenant Kang? I've been following your news. What's up?
“I have a favor to ask.”
– Haha! Still charging straight ahead without brakes, I see. Fine. Whatever I can do, I'll help.
His breathing quickened over the line as I explained. A hint of bewilderment crept into his voice at the end.
– It's possible, but can I ask what this is about?
“Sorry, sir. Can't disclose right now.”
– Hmm. Got it. I'll send someone tomorrow. Got just the right guy.
I hung up and stared out the car window.
The city's night still glittered.
“Oppenheimer.”
I murmured the bastard's name.
“Your games end here. I'm coming for you.”
I spat each word like he stood before me, chewing them out.
Words carry power. To a guy who seals fates with a few phrases, I unleashed my own word spirit.
* * *
“Lieutenant Kang Cheol-gu, sir. There's a visitor. Won't come in—says he's waiting at the station entrance. Run ID check?”
“No need. It's who I was expecting. I'll go out.”
Officer Yoon Seon-yeong from the general affairs team had come by.
Violent crimes detectives rack up favors and grudges alike. Mostly grudges. Visitor checks are standard protocol.
Deeply pulled-down cap, black mask. Way too suspicious for a police station.
Passersby stared, but he ignored them.
“Hello. I'm Kang Cheol-gu.”
“Yeah. Just call me Team Leader Park.”
Mid-30s voice. His jacket hid it, but flexing muscles betrayed hardcore training.
His neck was darkly tanned, but the skin around his eyes was a lighter bronze—camouflage cream from long stakeouts in the wild.
“Sent by Chief Lee Myeong-ho. Sorry for the secrecy on rank and face—security protocol.”
“Understood.”
They handled close presidential protection with the 101st Security Unit. Anonymity was mandatory.
“Heard you need help.”
“Yes. Let's talk in the car en route.”
* * *
Team Leader Park in the passenger seat burned holes through me—not directly, but via the window reflection.
He dissected me: veins on my hands, pupil shifts in the rearview, reaction time to cutting cars.
How much time passed? A low sigh escaped him.
“Damn! I thought all Korea's monsters were on our team. You're Lieutenant Kang Cheol-gu, right? Now I get why the chief said you'd show him another world.”
“You're too kind. Just think of it as the chief's joke.”
“No, sir. At our level, we gauge combat potential without clashing. But you? Unreadable. Looks mid-20s, endurance and reflexes match. No youthful lightness, though. Feels like a special forces sergeant fresh from hell—pure aura. Tell me: why does someone like you need my help?”
“Heard you're a 1-tier sniper. I need that skill.”
“...What? You asking me to take a shot?”
“Haha, no way. We're almost there—I'll explain on foot.”
* * *
Samyeong Furniture in Ilsandong, Gangcheon-gu. Fake ID 'Park Pil-sang'—Park Jin-tae's paper trail workplace.
Parked in the public lot nearby, I looked up.
9th floor of the 13-story building bore the Samyeong sign.
“Straight to it. Assume a target on that roof.”
His gaze followed my finger to the rooftop.
“Best spot to snipe from?”
His brow twitched.
“Hmm! Question first: will my advice be used for anything illegal?”
Easy to deny. Call it investigative reference.
But this was a 22nd Guard team leader. Defense specialist. Lies wouldn't fly.
“If 'illegal' means breaking Republic of Korea law as set by the legislature? Probably. But it's based on my own justice.”
His brows furrowed. He turned to leave.
“But!”
He stopped.
“I believe the Korean people will agree with my justice. There are monsters law can't touch—ones who dictate ordinary citizens' fates and mock the system. I need your help, Team Leader.”
His eyes locked mine in a stare-down.
“Defies the legislature but wins the people? Bold and intriguing. And a monster beyond law...”
He drew a deep breath.
“Chief Lee ordered me to assist you. I'd have helped even with bullshit excuses. So why the honesty...?”
“You don't strike me as the type fooled by excuses.”
He shook his head, then chuckled.
“You know the 22nd is more military than police. Soldiers obey superiors absolutely. Shit orders get shat—today, I heard nothing.”
* * *
“Sir! 22nd Police Guard Unit Team 3 Leader Park Woo-jin, reporting as ordered.”
“Ah, Team Leader Park. Have a seat.”
Chief Lee Myeong-ho set down his tea to greet him.
“Need you on dispatch today.”
“...Dispatch, sir?”
Guard dispatches planned weeks ahead—never same-day.
Ignoring the confusion, the chief continued.
“How long since we connected?”
“11 years, sir.”
“Haha, already? That green recruit from police academy's all grown up. Time flies. So...”
He pulled his chair closer.
“Call this less dispatch, more personal favor.”
Personal favor? Park's brow twitched.
The chief he'd known never asked such things.
“There's this headache—a total wildcard, like a bomb ready to blow anytime.”
Odd. Negative words, but the chief's eyes crinkled warmly.
“Problem is, I'm starting to look forward to the blast.”
He opened a window, breathing fresh air.
“Head to Gangcheon Station's Violent Crimes Team 3, find Kang Cheol-gu. He'll ask something crazy. Up to your beliefs whether to help.”
* * *
“What's the sniper's skill level?”
Park asked calmly. Initial doubts gone.
“Early to mid-20s with basic military service, regular infantry. Or a teen with zero experience.”
Oppenheimer was hacking prodigy enough for Park Jin-tae to respect. Hacking demands peak computation and focus—like Go mastery. Geniuses peak in teens. Likely young.
“Teen or grunt level? Total amateur—easy to narrow.”
He pulled his phone, dialed.
“Hey, it's Park. Satellite pics of buildings in 300m radius around Ilsandong 312, Gangcheon-gu. Include access controls.”
Tablet out from his bag—pro moves.
He scanned sats, erasing buildings on the map.
“Infantry can't handle scoped rifles. Best they'd smuggle is an air gun—modded range under 100m. Sniper spots need height over target, so 13+ floors min. Depth under 100m: five buildings. Media Town and Oseong after 6 PM? Locked. Three left.”
His eyes sharpened.
“Estimated sniper time?”
“Post-sunset. Around 10 to 11 PM.”
“...Post-sunset? Public transit's running—too exposed here. That one's got mountain cover for concealment, but escape routes suck...”
His finger stabbed the map.
“Here. I'd pick this.”
Conviction rang in his voice.