Hunting Season
That night, Seong-min returned.
Yoo Ji-ah felt a wave of relief wash over her the moment he walked through the door. She had written down everything he asked about the VIPs, but the unease had never left her. What if something terrible happened to him because of her? What would she do then?
The only thing that had kept those worries and that gnawing anxiety at bay this time—unlike before—was Areum. If Areum hadn’t come by and she had been left alone with her spiraling thoughts, she would have crumbled under the weight of them. But Areum had shown up and spent time with her, and that had been enough to hold her together.
And today, Seong-min had come back.
“You don’t have to worry anymore.”
“What… does that mean?”
“The VIPs who used you for their fun—I took care of all of them.”
“…What?”
“They won’t be looking for you. Nothing like that is going to happen again.”
“……”
It was too enormous a claim. Too enormous an answer. Yoo Ji-ah simply could not believe what Seong-min was telling her.
“You don’t believe me?”
Seong-min gave a bitter little smile. Of course she didn’t. How could she? Those men had been high-ranking executives of the Gangil Association—more powerful even than the Yonggol Faction that controlled Daejeon and Chungcheong. They had been senior police officials, local power brokers who ruled their districts, high-level civil servants. Every last one of them was a heavyweight. For Seong-min to say he had “taken care” of them was, from Ji-ah’s perspective, pure fantasy.
But this time he hadn’t come empty-handed. He wanted her to believe him. Seong-min pulled out his phone.
“I’ve got photos of the ones who used you.”
“Photos?”
“Taken at the scene. Proof that I dealt with them.”
“……”
“I’ll show you if you want. But… they’re not pretty.”
Yoo Ji-ah opened her mouth without hesitation.
“I want to see them.”
She needed to know if he was telling the truth. She needed to confirm they were really those men. Just as he expected, she didn’t flinch. Seong-min opened the album and showed her the selfies he had taken of the VIPs.
The images were brutal. Bodies sprawled on the floor, bleeding, faces twisted in agony. Their ruined states were captured in raw, unflinching detail. As she stared at the photos, the hand holding the phone began to tremble.
They were the VIPs. The high-ranking Gangil Association executive the Yonggol Faction had fawned over, the local big shot who threw his weight around, the arrogant police official, the successful businessman, the senior city hall bureaucrat—all ten of them were right there on the screen. Men who had flaunted their power and status, who had swaggered around as if they were untouchable, now reduced to these pathetic, broken figures.
“Last time I didn’t get any pictures. This time I made sure to take them. So you could see for yourself.”
Yoo Ji-ah had no choice but to believe him. Seong-min had truly eliminated every VIP she had named. She had no idea how he had done it—only that he had not lied.
Which meant the Yonggol Faction…
Tears welled up in her eyes without warning. Looking at those faces, it felt as if every knot of bitterness she had carried all this time was finally bursting open. She swallowed the surge of emotion back down.
“…Thank you, Seong-min.”
She offered her gratitude to the man who had stepped forward for her sake. She still didn’t know the method. All she knew was that Seong-min had risked danger and cut those men down for her.
“I took care of the Yonggol Faction and every VIP who used you. So you don’t have to worry anymore that they’ll send people after you.”
She had lived with that fear. Even without the Yonggol Faction, the VIPs themselves had more than enough power to send men after her. Catching one girl like her would have been nothing to them. But now she knew they never would. The photos on Seong-min’s phone made it clear: these were no longer the men who had strutted around ruling their little kingdoms. They were wrecked.
“That’s… enough now.”
Yoo Ji-ah handed the phone back to him.
“Thank you for helping me, Seong-min…”
“No.”
Seong-min cut her off.
“You think this is enough? Not even close. You still haven’t seen the real one.”
“What…?”
“The man who destroyed you and your father. The one who dragged you both into hell. You haven’t met him yet.”
“Seong-min…?”
“This only ends when he’s finished. And finishing him… happens in front of you.”
“……?!”
In the deep dark, a car raced along an unpaved road, following a quiet national highway outside Seoul and pushing deeper into the countryside. Yoo Ji-ah sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window. No music played. The car simply kept driving.
When they finally arrived, the place was an old abandoned house. Seong-min parked among the overgrown weeds in a suitable spot.
“Let’s get out.”
He stepped from the driver’s seat; she climbed out of the passenger side. She followed him through the rusted iron gate into the grounds of the dilapidated Western-style house, but he led her not to the main building—rather to what looked like an old warehouse. Its iron door, too, was rusted shut.
“Have you steeled yourself?”
Yoo Ji-ah nodded, watching him open the door. Her heart hammered. Her pulse raced. Beyond that door was the man. The man who had shoved her father and her into the abyss was waiting inside.
Seong-min went in first. She followed.
“W-who’s there?”
A rough, hoarse voice called out.
“P-please spare me! I’ll give you anything you want, just please…!”
“……”
Seong-min looked at the figure whose eyes were bound with cloth, hands and feet tightly tied. The man was shaking with terror—violently.
“Why the hell did you drag me out here…! Why did you bring me to this place…!”
Seong-min’s gaze was cold. Beside him, Yoo Ji-ah’s eyes trembled. He stepped closer and untied the rope around the man’s legs.
“On your knees.”
At the order the man scrambled awkwardly upright and dropped to his knees, hands still bound behind his back.
“P-please spare me…! If it’s money you need, I’ll find it and give it to you! Please…!”
“You’ll give me all the money?”
“Y-yes! How much do you want? I’ve got more than you think! So please, just let me live…!”
Seong-min said nothing. He simply grabbed the cloth covering the man’s eyes and yanked it off. The middle-aged man squinted hard as his vision returned, then slowly adjusted to the moonlight filtering into the warehouse. And then he saw the two people standing in front of him.
One was a man he had never seen before. The other…
“Hiiik…!”
The middle-aged man—no, Yun Jong-gyu—jerked as if he had been struck by malaria.
“You… recognize me?”
“J-Ji-ah!”
Why was Yoo Ji-ah standing there? Why was that girl here? The thought barely formed before panic took over.
“I-I was wrong! I was wrong…! Please spare me! For old times’ sake, please spare me, Ji-ah!!!”
“Spare you…? You’re asking me to spare you right now…?”
“I’ll beg on this floor if you want! Huh?! So please… just let me live…! I was wrong…!!!”
Watching him beg for his life any way he could, something rose hot and thick in Yoo Ji-ah’s chest.
“Why… did you do it…? Why on earth did you do something like that? Father… trusted you. So why……”
“I was so jealous… He was born into a good family and became a successful businessman—I just couldn’t stand it…!”
“That’s why…? Just for that…”
Her fists clenched so hard they shook. She had imagined there must have been some grand reason. She had even wondered, more than once, whether her father had committed some terrible wrong. But it had only been jealousy. Inferiority toward her father.
The rage she had been holding down surged up; her eyes turned bloodshot.
“I-I was wrong, Ji-ah…!!! Please forgive me…!!!!”
“You don’t know…! What it feels like to be betrayed by someone you trusted. Until the very end… Father couldn’t believe you had betrayed him…!”
Yun Jong-gyu averted his eyes. He could not bear the weight of her gaze, the raw fury in it. Yoo Ji-ah turned away.
“J-Ji-ah…!!!”
She left the warehouse, leaving his desperate calls behind her.
“N-no! Please… Ji-ah… Aaaaaaagh!!!!!”
A scream tore through the air. Yoo Ji-ah squeezed her eyes shut.
Ten minutes passed. The screams from inside fell silent. Seong-min stepped out.
“That man will have to eat lying down for the rest of his life.”
“……”
“He won’t even be able to control his own bowels.”
Seong-min had broken Yun Jong-gyu worse than anyone else. Not years of recovery—he would spend the rest of his days flat on his back. Seong-min led Yoo Ji-ah back to the car.
“……”
Inside the vehicle she said nothing at all. Leaving her there, Seong-min went back into the warehouse, carried Yun Jong-gyu to his bedroom, and left him. Tomorrow the family that found him would go into an uproar. Then, using his Teleportation Skill, Seong-min returned and climbed into the car. They quietly left the place behind.
On the national highway heading back toward Seoul, a small, broken sound came from the passenger seat.
“…Uhhk…”
Yoo Ji-ah was crying. The tears she had held back until the end finally spilled over.
Hunting season.
Winter is cold. Is there any season more suited to the hunt than this?
“……”
The heater kept the car warm, yet the sound of Yoo Ji-ah’s sobs—
“Uhhk…! …Uhhhhhk…!!”
—carried a chill as sharp as midwinter frost, settling over the heart…