Joker (6)
The article began no differently from those in other media. It was the same tired story: a woman in her 20s found as a gruesome corpse in a villa in Yongin-gu last night, with police now considering the possibility of a serial killing.
He nodded absently.
But the moment he reached the final article, the man's throat stiffened, a foreign lump filling his mouth. Like he'd been struck on the head with a blunt object, the comfortable bed rocked violently beneath him.
N-No, that's impossible!
[...The perpetrator mutilated the victim's mouth area before sewing it back shut with fishing line, leaving behind this grotesque signature that has shocked the public. This is Cha Mi-ran reporting for Kangseong Daily.]
The final chapter of the Joker murders—a case that existed only in his imagination, never spoken of to anyone—was laid out plainly by the Kangseong Daily article, as if the reporter had witnessed it firsthand.
Kyaak!
A middle-aged woman's piercing scream jolted the man into slamming on the brakes. The crosswalk light was green, but the woman who'd fallen on her ass in front of his sedan was now charging at him with glaring eyes. Cheap clothes from an outlet mall, a typical neighborhood perm job from some back-alley salon. From his perspective, she was bottom-of-the-food-chain trash, the kind he'd never even glance at on a normal day.
"Hey! Are you blind? How do you drive like that on a green light?!"
It was the kind of ridiculous mistake he wouldn't have made under normal circumstances. Ignoring the barrage of insults, the man buried his face deep into the steering wheel. Horns blared furiously from the cars behind him.
"Someone almost died, and you're just gonna ignore it? How are you gonna compensate me for this?!"
"I'm truly sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment. Please, take this."
"...Be more careful next time."
The man startled as he reached for his business card, instead pulling out three or four 100,000-won checks from his wallet. The woman eyed them suspiciously before nodding and snatching them from his hand.
Ever since reading that Kangseong Daily article, his morning had been one blunder after another. A sigh like a groan escaped the lips of the man who'd spent last night replaying his crime.
He distinctly remembered the disappointment when slicing the prey's lips— it hadn't turned out as the perfect subject he'd envisioned. That's why the impulse to sew it back with fishing line had surged. But it was just an impulse; yesterday's hunt had ended there.
He roughly undid the tightly buttoned shirt collar up to his neck and shook his head.
Am I going insane? Is that why I can't remember what I did?
His thoughts kept surging, turning his eyes bloodshot. He had to resolve this doubt.
As he pulled over to the shoulder, a payphone booth caught his eye.
* * *
"Yes, this is Jeong Seong-gyu from Kangseong Daily's social affairs desk. Yes? Reporter Cha Mi-ran? What's this about? Yes, Reporter Cha is out right now. If you tell me what it's regarding... Hello? Hello?!"
Shaking his head, Jeong Seong-gyu shot a glare at Cha Mi-ran sitting beside him.
"Do I have to play errand boy like this when I can't even go out to the field? That's why you gotta stop writing weird articles that make the phones explode! Even the section chief's grilling me, asking where the hell you got that intel from!"
"Shut up. Where'd this latest call come from?"
"...Doesn't seem like another media outlet. Wouldn't say their affiliation. But, well, something off about how they talked."
"How so?!"
"Hey! Back off while we talk."
Cha Mi-ran leaned in urgently, and Jeong Seong-gyu waved her off in panic.
"The wording was professional and restrained, but the emotional state felt extremely unstable? You know the type, seniors like you have seen it—after busting those financial crooks, their interviews are just rambling nonsense with no substance."
"...Rambling, huh. Track the originating number for now."
"Make me beg my cop buddies again? No way."
"Ooh! Nail this, and you'll be bragging to the whole neighborhood about being my assistant. So shut it and do it!"
Cha Mi-ran watched Jeong Seong-gyu grimace and pick up the phone, her eyes gleaming. Her social affairs reporter instincts were tingling.
"...It's just a payphone. Shouldn't have bothered my buddy for nothing. Huh? Reporter Cha, where you off to now? At least tell the chief before you go!"
* * *
After checking Cha Mi-ran's face on the newspaper website and waiting an hour in front of Kangseong Daily, the man's phone buzzed.
– Teacher Gu! Where are you? You need to be here for surgery, and you haven't even clocked in...!
"I've got something urgent today. Hand off any emergencies to Teacher Yoon, cancel the rest."
– What do you mean? Hello!
He hung up roughly. His bloodshot eyes gleamed through the driver's window, mirroring the gaze from that first day he'd confronted the demon inside him.
The white gown was soaked in blood droplets.
'What's the point of clamping every single vessel cross-section with forceps? Give me the Kelly.'
'Yes, Doctor.'
'It's one of the splenic artery branches. That's why the blood's gushing—it's severed. Get a tie in there now.'
'Yes, got it!'
In surgery, blood spurting like that tied directly to the lead surgeon's incompetence. The man tossed his gloves and steadied his breath, staring at his still-trembling hands.
Not because the surgery was grueling.
It was that unfamiliar voice, audible only to him, the moment he incised the patient in the warzone-like OR.
'Why bother saving this one? Just some random ER case you've never met.'
'I'm a doctor. Saving lives is what we do.'
'Be honest. Do you really want to save this patient? Why'd you become a doctor anyway? Hippocratic Oath? That's bullshit. On the surface, it's the social status high; deep down, that cheap thrill of holding a human life in your hands.'
'...Sh-Shut up.'
That obsessive voice had haunted him every time he entered the OR—until the day his medical malpractice killed a patient for the first time. Everyone offered condolences, saying it couldn't be helped, but no one saw the pale grin tugging at his lips.
So this is what it feels like to kill someone.
He shook his head violently. His gaze landed on a woman in her early thirties biting her lip hard as she exited the main gate.
She glanced around before climbing into her white compact car. The man's brow twitched as he alternated between her and the photo on his phone.
* * *
Newsroom parking lots are always jammed with reporters rushing to scenes and aggrieved citizens bearing their sob stories. Amid that chaos, a single black sedan had been parked facing the main gate for a while now.
"Gyu-cheol, run a check on that 329 Sa 21XX plate up ahead."
"Got it. But you really think the perp will bite?"
Tilting his head, Gyu-cheol pulled out his phone and logged into the police intranet.
This was our one shot today. Miss it, and Cha Mi-ran posts a correction, gets disciplined; the killer, sensing something off, dives deep into hiding.
As I cracked my knuckles and eyed the parked sedan, Gyu-cheol called out in a meaningful tone.
"...Bro, check's back. Matches Teacher Kim Chan-heon's profile on the perp. Age 41, name Gu Cheon-hee, works orthopedics at Now Hospital. A doctor's swamped right now—why's he parked at a newspaper? SNS check: hobby's fishing. All pics of him with big carp."
The perfect job for precise, uniform mutilation of a body. And though Gyu-cheol didn't know, the suturing from my past life case too. Circumstantially, perfect.
I nodded slowly—just as Cha Mi-ran emerged from the gate.
Less than a minute later, my phone rang, her trembling voice on the line.
– Just got a call at the paper looking for me. Payphone, no ID—feels like the guy you described, Inspector!
Got in the car like planned.
"Confirmed you boarding. Head to the spot we discussed. I'll handle protection—just act natural!"
– Yes!
I heard her swallow hard over the line. As her compact pulled out, the black sedan's engine roared to life.
"Bro, that car's moving! Looks like our suspect. Shouldn't we tell Reporter Cha?"
Gyu-cheol wrenched the wheel, breathing hard.
"No. Just tail 'em. She's a civvie, even if a reporter. Moment she realizes she's being followed, she slips. If he notices, we're done."
"...But!"
My lips pressed tight as I buckled up.
...So you're using me as bait to lure the killer?
Yes.
Whoa! I've nailed folks with scoops before, but this is a first. ...Odds?
Of you coming out safe?
No, odds I hit the jackpot and the other reporters swarm like bees copying my byline.
100%. Worst case, you're the social affairs reporter who uncovered a serial killer's mastermind and died tragically.
Whaaat?!
Cha Mi-ran shook her head with a smirk and offered her hand.
...Don't worry, trust me 100%. More reassuring than some cheesy line. Job makes me skeptical of words anyway.
* * *
The woman's white sedan veered toward Seoul's outskirts. Gu Cheon-hee, who'd worried she might head into a busy district, felt his lips twist grotesquely.
Once he confirmed the truth of her article from her mouth and got a satisfying answer, he'd kill her. If not satisfying...?
He shook his head. Nothing in this world was inexplicable to him.
She seemed oblivious to his tail; her driving was bold. Just as he thought she'd hit Gyeonggi-do, her car stopped in front of an isolated farmhouse.
No other cars parked—probably abandoned. Why come all the way out here?
Meeting some secret source who couldn't risk crowds?
She entered the farmhouse, and an hour passed with no sign of life. Gu Cheon-hee scanned the area again—no traffic.
No more wasting time.
He touched the knife hidden in his chest pocket; fear vanished, excitement surged.
As he stepped out, the muddy rural ground caught his eye. Clicking his tongue, he grabbed rugged sneakers from the back seat.
Soles sanded down for traction. Prep complete.
Slipping on disposable gloves, Gu Cheon-hee headed for the building. Rice sacks laid on the floor crunched unpleasantly underfoot, but not too bad.
Up close, it wasn't a house—a storage shed for harvested crops. No windows to peek through, as expected.
As he circled and opened the shed door, the rusty wood creaked loudly.
And then.
"Wh-Who are you?!"
The woman's shrill, startled scream pierced his ears. A familiar reaction. The man's lips pulled back in that pale grin once more.