Faceless Killer (7)
The elevator doors closed. A child of about seven years old reached out toward the closing doors. He pressed the open button to wait for the kid.
“Aigoo! Thank you so much, Yuseon. Gahon-ah, didn't I tell you not to go off without Mommy? You could get in big trouble!”
“Haha, no big deal. The kid's got spunk—looks good on him.”
The late-arriving mother's panting breaths were annoying to hear. But he kept a smile on his face.
“How is it that you're always so kind, Yuseon? Smart, handsome... If I had a little sister, I'd set her up with you in a heartbeat. Hohoho!”
The woman cackled gleefully, lightly slapping her own shoulder. It was meant to be friendly, but Yuseon's face stiffened without him realizing it. A wave of disgust washed over him, like he'd touched rotten fish.
“Gahon-ah, you study hard like big brother over there and get into Hanyang Science University, got it?”
All the residents of this penthouse were in the top 10% of South Korea. True to form, their interests centered on high salaries and elite credentials. Slaves to plebeian capitalism.
Yuseon's eyebrow twitched for a moment, but his expression quickly returned to a smiling mask. Today was a joyful day. The play he'd meticulously prepared was finally taking the stage. He wouldn't let some lowly pleb ruin his mood.
Yuseon's eyes narrowed deeply.
[I've made up my mind. Today, I'm going to be reborn as a true human being!]
A message from Park Pil-sang pinged on his laptop. He'd been ready to prod the man himself if he hesitated, but this inferior creature was rushing headlong to his own death.
[How about thinking it over one last time? A normal life might not be so bad.]
The dumber and more indecisive the human, the more conviction they clung to once they'd made up their minds. He pretended to dissuade him, only fanning the flames of his resolve.
[No. Even if it's just one day, I want to live like a human. I can't go on like this!]
[I respect your will to become a true human. Have you decided on the place and time?]
[Yes. Tonight at 10 PM, on our company rooftop!]
[I'll be cheering you on from afar!]
The telephoto lens, camera, and laptop in his bag pressed pleasantly against his shoulder. To avoid leaving traces, he took public transport. He retrieved a hoodie and cap from a subway locker, changed in the bathroom, then switched buses and got off in front of Taeyoung Apartments.
He passed the security booth without anyone stopping him. In Seoul's massive apartment complexes, security had long lost its purpose. They were overwhelmed just helping residents with parking privileges or delivering packages.
He swiped the pre-copied keycard through the entrance door. No one was around. The lobby CCTV caught his eye, but Yuseon smirked. The red light indicating recording had been off for ages.
Taeyoung Apartments was a straight-line 80 meters from the Samyoung Furniture building. No one would care enough to come all the way here even if a self-immolation happened.
But Yuseon's obsessive compulsions demanded maximum caution. Ignoring the elevator in front of him, he headed for the emergency stairs.
15th floor. Should've exercised more... His scrawny muscles screamed, but he dragged his body up step by step. The ultimate show was about to begin! Framing it as an epitaph for the performance, he wiped the sweat from his brow.
The rooftop access door came into view. The unlocked iron handle gave way easily. He took a deep breath. As the sweat cooled, a thrilling chill swept over him. Was it fatigue from climbing 15 floors? Or excitement? His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
Now, the show just for him was about to start.
* * *
[Yes. Tonight at 10 PM, on our company rooftop!]
[I'll be cheering you on from afar!]
He closed the laptop. Wind howled through the only window on his cosmic computer.
“You think you can pull it off like I said?”
“Yes. The fight's already started. I'm gonna show this bastard what real is!”
Park Jin-tae's face looked suitably determined as he bit his lip.
“Samyoung Furniture locks down after 6 PM. How're you getting in?”
“No problem. Most copy entrance keys with RFID cloners, but who am I? I already hacked the wireless module.”
“He's suspicious as hell. Stick to the exact time and don't do anything that smells off.”
“I was in the drama club back in school. Don't worry.”
* * *
Yuseon's face was always masked by a smile. When dealing with ordinary people, that mask was a vital weapon to hide his true feelings. But now, cracks formed in the facade as a genuine laugh bubbled up.
Far off, a shadow flitted across the Samyoung Furniture rooftop. Too distant for the naked eye, but his high-magnification telephoto lens captured the target's expression and streaming sweat in crystal clarity.
Park Pil-sang had arrived. The face matched the SNS photos—no doubt about it.
He hurriedly set up the tripod and hit record on the camera. A defeatist face, but eyes burning with fire. A sneer escaped him. Lowly creatures without talent but full of obsession always wore the same expression when deciding their end.
They thought they'd made a grand decision. Deluded themselves into greatness. No. Your death is just another piece in my collection!
The bag slung over Park Pil-sang's shoulder looked heavy. Probably stuffed with accelerants like xylene or gasoline.
Yuseon's tongue flicked across his lips like a serpent's. He gnawed his nails like a middle-schooler discovering porn for the first time, awaiting the climax.
Park Pil-sang rummaged in his bag. Yuseon swallowed hard. His hand emerged slowly.
But it was empty. And then Park Pil-sang's head turned slowly toward him.
80 meters in a straight line from Samyoung Furniture to Taeyoung Apartments. Impossible to spot in the dark after sunset. Yet Park Pil-sang's eyes locked precisely on his position.
With trembling hands, Yuseon cranked up the lens magnification. The empty hand twitched, then the middle finger flipped him off.
'Wh-what?!'
Suddenly.
“What, not going according to plan?”
A cold voice struck his ear from behind. The faint heartbeat he'd been hearing exploded like thunder.
He turned slowly. The familiar face from repeated video viewings—Kang Cheol-gu—smiled at him.
If Yuseon's smile was a shield hiding his truth, Kang Cheol-gu's was a blade ripping it apart. He felt like he was plummeting off a sheer cliff.
Yuseon bit his lip hard. 'Nothing's confirmed yet. I'm just here shooting city nightscapes. No evidence pins a specific crime on me!'
“...What do you mean, not going according to plan? And who might you be?”
He feigned composure, but his voice quavered at the end.
“Aw, don't disappoint me. If you're gonna use the name Oppenheimer, at least live up to it.”
Yuseon dropped his gaze and backed away unconsciously. 'He knows everything!'
Kang Cheol-gu locked the rooftop's rusted iron door. His eyes flicked to the still-recording camera, a sinister smile curling his lips.
“Filming someone else's last moments? What a hobby.”
His rough hands checked the camera. “N-no! Don't touch it!”
Yuseon lunged in desperation, but he flew back without knowing how or where he'd been hit. Pain from violence. Is this what hurt feels like?
His body curled like a shrimp. It was a first. The only pain he'd known was intellectual torment from ideals clashing with reality or metaphysical yearnings. Watching UFC on TV just made him scoff. Brains stuffed with muscle—base stock. The cheering crowds were no different. They died without grasping life's true essence.
For him, physical pain was alien.
Kang Cheol-gu hit play on the recent recording. Through the viewfinder, Yuseon watched too.
Yangji Stream's rushing waters filled the screen alongside a battered SUV. Rain blurred it, but a schoolgirl's face rose in the backseat. The footage shook as it closed in. White fingers appeared in the cracked door.
BAM! The door slammed shut with a boom. The girl's terrified eyes gleamed through the window. She clasped her hands in prayer, then pounded and clawed at the glass. Nails snapped. Torrential rain muted all sound like a silent film.
Then her hands fell limp.
Kang Cheol-gu's eyes twitched. “I knew it was you. But I didn't peg you for filming it too, you psycho. Human lives are just entertainment to you?”
He closed the distance step by step. Yuseon's body prickled under the palpable killing intent. 'Killing intent? That doesn't exist!'
A ridiculous wuxia novel trope. Intangible senses couldn't affect the body! Right. This was just dopamine overload from crisis. Regulate breathing, slow the heart rate...
Suddenly, darkness flooded his vision.
Kang Cheol-gu spoke as he gripped Yuseon's wrist. “I know your type. Manipulating inferiors with half-assed talent, trapping yourselves in your fake worlds while ignoring reality. Pathetic losers.”
Half-assed talent?! The words stabbed deeper than the physical pain. Yuseon's eyes blazed with venom.
“They could've never lived human lives anyway! They were fated to be prey for the world's true predators! Giving hopeless trash like that peace—is that wrong? They'd fulfilled their purpose just by inspiring a genius like me!”
“You're one crazy bastard. Predators? Geniuses? Who decides that? You?”
Before the words finished, Kang Cheol-gu's foot rocketed toward Yuseon's face. THUD! A dull impact sent his head skyward.
Biting his lip, Yuseon clawed at fading consciousness. Unknown madness surged. He glared at Kang Cheol-gu.
“Kuhk! That's all you got? You brainless thugs have no way to convince people but brute force! Think violence solves everything?”
He was terrified, blustering to hide it. His trembling legs betrayed him. He wanted to submit to this primal pain he'd never felt. But he was Yuseon. Chosen one gazing down from on high. He wouldn't kneel to savagery.
“You're right. Violence doesn't solve everything. But experience tells me most things do. So I ask myself...”
He closed in. “When violence fails, wasn't it just not enough?”
Yuseon's vision drowned in blackness again.