The Heart of Compassion
Compassion.
"I'm here, Father."
Sang-goo's voice echoed low and quiet through the solemn memorial hall.
He uncapped the bottle of soju he'd brought along and filled a paper cup to the brim, setting it before the photograph.
"I took down a lot of bad men today. The mad doctor who bled those kids dry—got him too. And the gangster bastards who tormented people… I made sure they'd never walk again."
Sang-goo took a swallow of the bitter soju that remained in the bottle. The heat burned down his throat.
"Damn it…."
There had seemed to be so many other words he wanted to spit out, but now that he stood here, they all jammed up in his throat at once.
He looked into his father's eyes in the photograph. The old man still stared back at him with that same dour expression, as if to say, Aigo, you rascal—a gentle scolding from beyond.
Sang-goo smiled and went on.
"Hwang Sang-chul told me to follow my own convictions. To stop hesitating. And I… I don't want to change the way I think. Living decently doesn't mean the world gives a damn about you. If you look at you, Father… you know it. The world devours good people first, before anyone else."
He poured the last of the soju around the base of the urn.
"So… I'm going to try. My way of thinking. My way of doing things. Until no one dares even think about raising a hand against us."
Sang-goo picked up the empty bottle and turned away.
As he left his family behind him, there wasn't a flicker of doubt in his eyes. Only the hard, unshakable resolve of a man who had made up his mind about what he intended to do.
"Watch over me. I'll come again."
He headed for the entrance, where Little Dog waited, wagging its tail like a proper Jindo.
"Little… let's go."
Come to think of it, he really ought to give the beast a proper name. They had a long road ahead of them together.
"Let's take our time thinking it over."
Whether it understood him or not, Little wagged its tail and gave a little hop.
Sang-goo scooped the animal up and settled it into the sidecar himself. Above the darkened night sky of Yeongdo, the stars were beginning to appear, one by one.
The Grand Hotel.
By the time Sang-goo reached his quarters, it was already past nine in the evening. Kim Dae-gi and Park Ji-hoon had clearly been waiting for him, talking up a hot dinner and cold beer, but Sang-goo begged off with an apology.
"Whew…."
The moment he shut the door behind him, every ounce of tension drained from his body, and exhaustion crashed over him like a tsunami. He'd been on edge the entire day, without a single moment of rest.
He peeled off his heavy gear piece by piece—the jacket reeking of blood, the body armor still humming with the smell of gunpowder, the heavy work boots.
He stepped into the bathroom and turned on the hot water.
Shhhhhhhh—
Steam filled the room. The body reflected in the mirror was clean. For all the ferocity of the day's battles, there wasn't a single new bruise or scrape on him—nothing but the old scars from his past.
Sang-goo thrust his head under the scalding stream.
The sensation of snapping Choi Min-seok's neck. The heads of the guards bursting open under gunfire. The sorrowful eyes of the old man. The afterimages washed down the drain along with the water.
Don't think about it.
After the shower, he lowered himself into the bathtub. And in deliberately pushing the day's events away, something new surfaced instead.
Could my blood have that same ability too?
Objectively speaking, he and Jang Seok-woo had a great deal in common. He'd never taken dozens of rifle rounds at close range the way Seok-woo had, but back in Busan he'd caught a few 5.56 and 9mm bullets here and there. He still remembered how stunned he'd been the first time he watched his muscles push the bullets out after the horrific pain.
He'd been tempted to tell Charles right away, out on Lion's Island—but he'd deliberately held back. Ryan hadn't gotten where he was by being stupid. Even the man who'd so generously provided a safe house would have it bugged from wall to wall. There was nothing to gain from revealing the state of his body.
They want Charles and San-i through me.
That, Jang Sun-woo's goal had supposedly been.
It couldn't be….
Jang Seok-woo was type O. Sang-goo was type A.
If the chance comes, I'll check.
That was where Sang-goo left it.
The next morning.
Habit woke him at six a.m. sharp. January 30th. Outside, darkness and light were still locked in their daily struggle.
He stretched out lightly and headed downstairs.
"You're up, Hyung-nim."
"You're up early, Hyung-nim. Shall we get breakfast ready?"
"No. Let me work the kinks out first. I'll eat slowly."
"Yes, Hyung-nim."
"Fighting out there today too, sir!"
The two men's faces were brighter than usual. On his way down to the basement gym, Sang-goo asked offhandedly, "What's the good news? Something to do with the camp yesterday?"
"Ah, that too, but… the Lunar New Year holiday starts tomorrow, Hyung-nim. Word is they're increasing rations for a few days as thanks for everyone's hard work."
"We're planning to take turns on leave as well, if that's… all right with you?"
"Me? Of course it's fine. But… where exactly are you going on vacation?" Sang-goo asked with a laugh.
"Haha… well, Yeongdo's plenty big. Apparently they're even putting on a sports day on one of the off days."
"Don't tell me this was decided just yesterday?"
"Er, yes, it was. Captain Baek decided that with the Geumji New City people, he needed to do something to build unity. The call came down during the night meeting, from what I heard."
Fair enough, really. If you wanted to fuse two households into one overnight, nothing worked better than a common enemy or a team-building retreat.
"Right. Don't worry about me—enjoy the holiday."
"Yes, Hyung-nim."
"Have a good one, sir!"
Down in the basement, Sang-goo warmed up and stepped onto the treadmill.
Keep it light.
Just an easy run today. He intended to give his body a proper day of rest.
He worked up a good sweat and ate a hearty breakfast. After a shower and a change of clothes, Sang-goo radioed Captain Baek.
—I'll send a car over. The parents are undergoing a few examinations, so you'll be able to see them at your leisure.
"Yes, Captain."
A sedan arrived at the hotel shortly after, and the car carrying Sang-goo headed for a middle school on the southern edge of Yeongdo—the place where the children he'd rescued yesterday were living alongside their parents.
He passed through tight security and stepped inside to find a cleanly kept dormitory. The moment he entered, laughter echoed from every direction. It was hard to believe these were the same children who, just yesterday, had lain pale and drained of blood. They ran around clutching balls and stuffed toys instead of IV lines—a sight both foreign and welcome.
One single day. Just from a change of environment, their faces could brighten this fast.
Sang-goo found himself astonished—and, at the same time, his heart ached. It occurred to him that the world children lived in was, in the end, shaped entirely by the adults around them.
Even these bright kids surely carried somewhere in their hearts a residue of distrust and pain where grown-ups were concerned. Washing that away and filling the space with love—that responsibility fell to all of them.
That was what Sang-goo believed.
"Oh? It's Ahjussi!"
The girl who'd locked eyes with him yesterday recognized him and came running. Behind her, a sharp-eyed boy and the rest of the children swarmed after her in a flood.
"Ahjussi! Hello!"
About twenty of them in all. Ten were the kids he'd seen in that hellhole of a lab; the rest had been locked away somewhere else entirely. They didn't know his face, but they'd clearly heard plenty—their ears would've been ringing—because for all their shyness, they wouldn't leave his side.
For the first time, he was embarrassed by the knife scar carved across his own face. He was afraid the children might be frightened of it.
Even so, Sang-goo bent down and met their eyes at their level. Sincerity was what mattered.
"Have you been eating well? Sleeping well too?"
"Yes! The food is super yummy, and the beds are so soft! And no more shots!"
The girl answered with a beaming smile. A bandage covered the needle mark on her arm. Sang-goo gently ruffled her hair.
"Good to hear. From now on, no one here is ever going to hurt you. You'll study, play with your friends… just live an ordinary life. That's all."
"Can we rearry, weally live here foreber? Our mommys too?"
The boy missing his front teeth asked with his eyes gone wide as saucers.
"You can. Of course you can."
At that, the boy's lip began to tremble. Whether the emotion simply crested too high, fat tears soon came dripping down his face.
"Waaaaaaaaah…."
And with that as the starting gun, one after another, all around him and behind him, the children broke into open, wailing sobs.
"Ah…."
First they'd all been laughing together; now they were all crying together. Sang-goo had no idea what to do and felt like his whole body was cramping up.
"Ah… um… h-hey, kids…."
They were sobbing in chorus. It was enough to drive a man mad. While Sang-goo fidgeted helplessly, the gap-toothed boy suddenly buried himself into his arms.
"There, there. It's okay. It's all okay now…."
Before he knew what he was doing, Sang-goo wrapped his arms around the child and patted his back.
But that must have been like pressing a booster button.
"WAAAAAAAH!!"
The children all began piling into Sang-goo at once.
"Ahh…."
Damn it all.
The tears must have been contagious, because Sang-goo couldn't hold back any longer either.
Just then—
"Aigoo, children!"
"Oh my, I'm so sorry!"
The teachers hurried in, arms loaded with snacks. Gently peeling the sobbing children away, they began to soothe them one by one. Sang-goo hastily wiped his eyes and gave an awkward smile.
When the children had drifted off one by one, the girl came back over, holding the boy's hand tightly in her left. Siblings, apparently.
"Thank you so much, Ahjussi. For saving us…."
The girl bowed a full ninety degrees at the waist.
"M-me too! When I grow up, I'm gonna be strong like you, Ahjussi!"
The gap-toothed boy balled his little fist and raised it.
"You will. I'm cheering for you."
Watching them, Sang-goo felt something warm stir deep in his chest.
This is enough.
Even if it meant wading through blood and becoming a demon himself—this was the reason to keep going. What else could it be but these children's laughter? This was surely the very scene his father had fought so hard to protect.
And then, out of nowhere, he thought of San-i, far away on Lion's Island.
Having been healed in spite of himself by the visit with the children, Sang-goo moved on to his next destination: a sealed isolation room on the second sublevel.
The new place they'd transferred the man to. Ordinary civilians couldn't get within a mile of this restricted zone.
Keeee-klik—
The massive steel door swung open, and he stepped inside. Beyond the glass wall, Jang Seok-woo came into view.
He was sitting on the bed, reading a paper book. A two-meter giant with that hulking frame holding a small book—it made for a strangely incongruous image.
The man must have sensed Sang-goo's presence, because he closed the book.
A commentary on the Heart Sutra.
Sang-goo let out a wry laugh. Jang Seok-woo rose from his seat and bowed his head respectfully.
"That's a pretty convincing persona you've got there."
"This is just… something I happened to pick up a long time ago. I asked Captain Baek to bring it for me…."
"How is it? Now that you've read some."
"It gives me a great deal to think about. About my existence. And about… the people around me."
"Your face has been looking better."
"Thanks to you. That… did you confirm the results?"
Sang-goo nodded. "Better than I expected."
"Haah… thank goodness."
Jang Seok-woo slumped heavily onto the bed. In his pale blue eyes, a faint mist had gathered.