A Boy Left Behind
Five years old.
To reach South Korea, the land of their dreams, Chul-jun's parents had crossed the frozen Yalu River with their young son and arrived in Yanbian, Jilin Province, China.
An ethnic Korean broker they had contacted beforehand guided them to a church.
But along the way, his parents were caught by the public security police.
Chul-jun was very small, and because he managed to hide beneath a church pew, he escaped capture.
His parents had told him never to make a sound.
So, Chul-jun was careful even when he breathed.
Beneath the pew.
From that cramped space, Chul-jun stared blankly at the legs of his mother and father as they were dragged away by the police.
Tears streamed down his face, but he choked back his sobs.
Because they had told him never to make a sound.
Long after the doors slammed shut, he continued to weep in silence.
The broker who had guided Chul-jun's family had already fled.
The church staff were also taken in for questioning by the police.
Just like that, at the age of five, Chul-jun became a fugitive.
It was a bitterly cold winter.
Lee Jae-gang looked down at the cold corpses of the Black Dragon Triad members.
They were the ones responsible for smuggling North Korean drugs here in Yanbian.
Even if he wiped them out like this, another gang would soon rise to take their place, but he was merely following the Company's orders.
His gaze drifted out the window.
Sigh...
Having been active in Dandong until recently, he hadn't secured any reliable informants or escape routes here in Yanbian.
There was bound to be a safe house somewhere, but since the Company hadn't briefed him on it, he had no way of contacting them.
To make matters worse, he had only recently returned to Korea after his mother—his only remaining relative—passed away, before being hastily deployed on this operation. His preparations were lacking.
He had to get out on his own.
Stepping slowly out of the building, Lee Jae-gang put a cigarette between his lips as he looked toward the bustling market.
He lit it, scanning his surroundings.
Rushing would only draw attention.
He had to move slowly.
Like someone with absolutely nothing to hide.
The afternoon market was crowded.
Merchants shouted from their stalls, customers haggled, carts piled high with goods rolled by, and a noisy blend of Korean and Chinese filled the air.
Lee Jae-gang took a long drag, exhaling a trail of smoke as he walked.
His eyes were fixed ahead, but his peripheral vision remained wide.
He kept himself within arm's reach of potential cover at all times.
He had known since he entered the area that plainclothes police were crawling all over the place.
Word of his movements must have leaked from somewhere.
Over the years, Lee Jae-gang had participated in countless operations in China.
To the Chinese authorities, he was a massive thorn in their side.
Fortunately, they only had a rough description of his build; his face remained unknown.
One in the alley to the left, two up front, and one behind the tofu stall.
He didn't rush.
Instead, he slowed his pace even further and intentionally stopped in front of the tofu stall.
Pretending to fish for change in his pocket, he checked to see if their eyes were locked on him.
For now, they didn't seem to have spotted him.
Good.
He bought a block of tofu and had it bagged.
The elderly vendor thanked him in Korean.
Jae-gang gave a brief reply in Korean as well.
Naturally, like a local.
He started walking again.
Three blocks ahead was an alleyway, and just around the corner was the motorcycle he had parked.
He just had to use that motorcycle to escape Yanbian.
It was a simple route.
The simpler it was, the less suspicion it would arouse.
He had just passed the second block.
Something caught his eye on one side of the market.
He didn't stop.
He just kept walking, casting a casual glance.
Huddled in a corner between the stalls was a figure covered by a tattered straw mat.
At first, he thought it was a bundle of goods.
But looking closer, it wasn't.
It was a child.
A very small child.
Wrapped in a blanket that looked like a rag, only the child's eyes peeked out. For some reason, that gaze felt strangely unsettling.
It was only a fleeting glance, but those eyes looked as if they were watching something highly entertaining.
Lee Jae-gang raised an eyebrow and kept walking.
Passing one more block, the entrance to the alley came into view.
Just past that alley lay his motorcycle.
It was then.
Two plainclothes officers were walking toward him from the front.
For a split second, their eyes met.
After exchanging a few words, the two began walking straight toward him.
Damn it...
The moment he turned around, it would be over.
Slipping into another alley would look too suspicious, and the officers were already too close.
Lee Jae-gang took a deep drag of his cigarette, his mind racing.
Sigh...
He couldn't think of a single way out of this.
Even if he managed to take them down, other officers would swarm the area immediately. They would blow their whistles the second anything seemed off.
Jae-gang casually flicked his cigarette ash, maintaining a calm facade.
Can I take them out quickly enough...?
As the distance closed, his heart beat faster.
Today might very well be his last day.
Just then—
"Uncle!"
He quickly turned his head to see a small figure running toward him, grabbing his hand tightly.
"Mom said a guest is waiting, so she wants you to come home quickly!"
Though utterly bewildered, Jae-gang maintained his composure as he looked down at the child.
It was the child from earlier.
Those same round eyes that had peeked out from under the straw mat.
Jae-gang quickly replied in Chinese.
"Oh, I was just on my way. I just wanted to finish this cigarette first."
The child grinned.
"If you take this long just to buy a block of tofu, Mom's going to nag you again."
"Ha, as long as you don't say anything, we'll be fine."
"For free?"
"Haha. You little rascal!"
The officers heading toward Jae-gang tilted their heads in confusion for a moment, then walked right past them.
Jae-gang patted the child's head and started walking toward his motorcycle.
But then, the child tugged at his hand.
"I told you, we have to go quickly."
"..."
"This way."
Looking down in confusion at the child pulling him toward a different alley, Jae-gang subtly expanded his field of vision to check on his motorcycle.
At the end of the alley, a faint puff of cigarette smoke drifted into the air.
It seemed there were officers stationed near his motorcycle as well.
Led by the child's hand, Jae-gang slipped into the other alley.
After walking hand-in-hand for quite some time, the child finally stopped.
He turned and stared intently at Jae-gang.
His eyes were filled with intense curiosity.
Jae-gang asked in Chinese.
"Who are you?"
To his surprise, the child replied in Korean.
"You're Korean, aren't you, Mister? From the South!"
"..."
"First, give me that tofu."
Snatching the block of tofu from Jae-gang's hand, the child began to devour it ravenously.
Jae-gang watched the scene in utter disbelief.
Having wolfed down the entire block, the child wiped his mouth and grinned.
"I saw a motorcycle I'd never seen around here before, so I kept an eye on it. Then I noticed the police were everywhere. I've seen them raid this market plenty of times, but the ones today felt different."
"..."
"I figured they weren't just here to catch defectors."
Even accounting for stunted growth due to malnutrition, the boy looked six years old at most, yet he spoke like a seasoned adult.
"But the moment I saw you, Mister, I knew. Ah! They're all gathered here to catch him."
For the first time, panic flickered in Jae-gang's eyes.
The police hadn't even realized yet, but this child had figured it out in a split second just by making eye contact?
"If you were just a regular criminal, they wouldn't have sent plainclothes officers. You're a secret agent from the South, right?"
Jae-gang shook his head.
"Sigh..."
He couldn't treat this kid like a normal child anymore.
He had to treat him as if he were a cunning old man trapped in a child's body.
The boy smiled brightly and spoke again.
"I'll help you get out of here."
"And what do you want in return?"
"I want to go to South Korea."
"Not right away."
"I know. Just take me with you for now. I'll be useful for your escape. We can talk about the rest later."
"..."
The child's brow furrowed slightly.
He glanced out toward the alley entrance.
"I'll scream."
As Jae-gang stared at him in disbelief, the boy gripped his hand tightly.
"I'm Chul-jun. Lee Chul-jun. Seven years old!"
Without waiting for Jae-gang's reply, he began pulling him along.
"What are you doing? Aren't you coming?"
"Sigh..."
As Jae-gang reluctantly followed, the boy beamed.
That was their very first meeting.
It was a time when winter was fading, and a warm breeze was just beginning to blow.
The boy, who had lived alone in Yanbian for two years after escaping North Korea and losing his parents, was incredibly intelligent.
Having never attended school, he could neither read nor write, but his wits were razor-sharp. His Chinese was so flawless that he sounded like a native, and after just two months of living with Jae-gang, he could speak with a perfect South Korean accent.
Furthermore, his ability to read people was better than most adults—even better than some trained professionals.
He could discern with absolute precision whether someone was dangerous or safe to ignore.
His situational awareness was also extraordinary.
When they encountered sudden danger while out together, he would move toward the safest escape route even before Jae-gang did, without needing a single word.
Normally, he was just a cheerful child, but in those critical moments, his genius would shine through.
Jae-gang had once asked if someone had taught him these things.
The boy had simply replied that he had learned it on his own because it was the only way to survive.
Is that really something you just learn on your own?
Living with him, Jae-gang became absolutely certain of one thing.
This child was extraordinary.
Jae-gang took a drag of his cigarette, quietly watching the boy walking ahead of him.
Hop, skip, jump.
A lighthearted, innocent stride.
He was small.
Far too small.
He claimed to be seven, but he could easily pass for five.
The boy turned around and flashed a bright smile.
"Uncle!"
"Yeah?"
"Is it true that there's so much food left over in South Korea?"
"Huh?"
"I heard kids leave food behind because they're too full."
"Well, yes, that happens quite often."
"And the streets are lit up even at night?"
"Yeah, that's true."
"And the roads are so packed with cars that they can barely move?"
"That's right. The traffic is terrible."
"That's amazing!"
Chul-jun grinned.
"What color is the sky in South Korea?"
"It's just blue."
"I bet it's way brighter there!"
"..."
"I want to go see it soon!"
Their conversations always went like this.
However, finding the safest way to send Chul-jun to South Korea took much longer than expected.
More than anything, it was because Jae-gang had grown a bit selfish.
The hope that he might be able to return home together with this lovely child kept delaying his decision.
The boy seemed to have noticed this early on, but he never pressed for details.
By the time they had lived in Dalian for about a year, the title "Uncle" had become second nature.
By the time they had moved to Dandong and lived there for two years, the title "Dad," which they had briefly used as a cover, became the one they used most.
Jae-gang taught him everything he knew.
The boy's Chinese was already better than Jae-gang's, so he taught him English, Italian, and Russian.
They ran together at dawn and hit the punching bag together in the evening.
He had only intended to teach him basic self-defense, but after catching the boy watching him train and mimicking his movements perfectly, Jae-gang began teaching him Jiu-Jitsu and kickboxing.
His physical aptitude was astonishingly high.
He could easily overpower an average adult.
From time to time, Jae-gang bought elementary school textbooks from secondhand bookstores.
He excluded subjects like ethics, history, and social studies, which differed wildly from South Korea's curriculum, and focused on universally applicable subjects like mathematics and science.
Chul-jun solved math problems effortlessly and showed a deep interest in science.
Like a sponge, Chul-jun absorbed everything.
If a child like this had grown up in South Korea, he would have undoubtedly been hailed as a prodigy.
Jae-gang watched him with pride, and the boy would shrug his shoulders with a smug grin, basking in his praise.
And so, time passed.
By the time they moved to Shenyang, marking four years of living together, the boy had turned eleven.
To Jae-gang, Chul-jun was no different from a real son, and to Chul-jun, Jae-gang was a real father.
Even when he was deployed on dangerous operations, crossing the line between life and death, the black agent Jae-gang was no longer lonely or isolated, because he knew Chul-jun would be waiting to welcome him home.
His life had been empty and devoid of family after his mother's death, but this child had given him a reason to keep going.
Bang!
Even on that sudden day, when an intruder burst into their safe house and shot him, Jae-gang had been in the middle of imagining which neighborhood in South Korea he and Chul-jun should live in.
Collapsed on the floor, Jae-gang's eyes blinked slowly.
His lips formed a silent shape: Shh...
Bang! Bang!
Flat on his stomach beneath his low study desk, Chul-jun quickly clamped his hands over his mouth.
He had been warned countless times that something like this could happen.
He had been told over and over again how to react.
So, Chul-jun kept his mouth covered, his round eyes blinking rapidly.
His vision kept blurring, making it hard to see his father's face.
Holding his breath, he stared at his father's blood-stained face and wept silently, his body shaking with muffled sobs.
After what felt like an eternity, Chul-jun forced himself to snap out of it.
When he had been separated from his parents, he had been utterly lost, but this time, he had a clear set of instructions.
"If I ever fail to return on the promised day, or if you confirm that I am dead, take all the documents from the safe and go straight to the Shenyang Consulate. Then, speak and act exactly as I taught you."
He quickly wiped away his tears.
Then, Chul-jun crawled out from under the desk.
Eleven years old.
Just like that, Chul-jun lost his second guardian.
"Yes, the documents are authentic. It looks like he had been preparing them for several years. The records of his operation in Yanbian twelve years ago match, and it's confirmed that he frequented entertainment establishments back then to secure informants. It makes sense if he developed a deep relationship with a woman working there at the time. According to the records, they crossed paths again by chance four years ago during the operation to dismantle the Black Dragon Triad. It seems they lived together ever since. The child's statement matches perfectly, and his answers regarding his past life in Yanbian are entirely consistent. He was a bit incoherent at times due to the shock, but there is absolutely nothing suspicious."
Jang Soo-hyun, a consulate employee and NIS white agent who was on the phone, glanced at the child sleeping soundly on the sofa.
He had stayed up all night conducting the investigation.
He had subtly rephrased his questions and checked them multiple times, but not a single discrepancy arose.
Even trained agents would eventually show cracks when trying to maintain a complete lie, but this child showed absolutely none.
"Please issue a temporary ID first. I'll handle the preparations on this end. Yes, it seems he had already secured a few guardians in South Korea in case of an emergency like this. I'll send over the data, so please contact them as well. Yes, understood."
Jang Soo-hyun hung up the phone and let out a low sigh.
Sigh... To think the great Kite 1 is dead...
He never imagined that a man hailed as a legend in the history of black ops would meet such a futile end.
The leak of the agent list had been catastrophic.
The news should have been relayed to the agents immediately, but the high-ranking officials at the headquarters in South Korea had hushed it up, making matters far worse.
Right now, chaos was erupting all across China and Russia.
Kite 1—Lee Jae-gang—was one of the names on that leaked list.
It was likely the work of the Russian mafia or the Chinese triads he had dismantled over the years.
He had probably been caught completely off guard.
He turned his head to look at the boy.
He was remarkably small for an eleven-year-old.
Yet, his frame looked surprisingly solid.
Though he was sleeping peacefully now, Soo-hyun remembered how the boy had been on the verge of tears throughout their conversation.
He must be in deep shock.
Losing his mother at such a young age, wandering Yanbian, finally reuniting with his father, only to watch that father die right before his eyes.
I hope you can live happily once you reach South Korea...
Jang Soo-hyun gently stroked the child's hair.