The Three Villains of Ugok-ri

According to Oh Seung-seo, there were three men in Ugok-ri you should never, under any circumstances, cross.

The first was Son Gu-chul, owner of Ugok Marsh Snail Hangover Soup.

Apparently Son Gu-chul had been a lowlife punk since he was a boy, and had only grown more rotten with age. Once he held a grudge, he would torment a person with endless, spiteful persistence — so the best policy, Seung-seo said, was simply to steer clear of him.

I had to agree.

From what I've seen of him myself, Son Gu-chul isn't smart enough to be subtle about it. His kind of harassment would be filthy and direct.

Smashing the windows of a shop he didn't like. Hurling food waste at the front door. Sending his thugs to intimidate customers, or showing up at someone's house in the dead of night to throw his weight around. Things like that.

Of course, he can't pull any of that on me.

He knew perfectly well that the county governor thought highly of me. If he wanted to snatch even a crumb of any county-sponsored project, he couldn't afford to get on the governor's bad side.

The second man was Lee Do-shin, the owner of Pyeongcheong Napoli — the restaurant where Do Seo-gyeong used to work.

Lee Do-shin had clawed his way up to become president of the Ugok 3-ri Merchants' Association, no less. A stone that had rolled in ten years ago, and now he wasn't just prying out the stones that had been settled there long before him — no, he was trying to press the merchants along the Pyeongcheong River into service as his personal lackeys, preaching that there was strength in numbers.

The reason the merchants couldn't defy him was simple: Lee Do-shin had gotten his hands on the state-owned land along the Pyeongcheong River early on and was using it as parking lots. During the Ugok 3-ri riverside festival, losing access to that parking would devastate their business — so every year they swallowed their bile and re-elected him as their association president.

The last of the three was Choi Jeong-tak, who ran the Ugok 3-ri Early Morning Soccer Club. Unless I planned to join the club myself to network, Seung-seo said, I could go my whole life without ever running into him.

That was because Choi Jeong-tak was far too busy wandering the countryside playing politics. Whenever Pyeongcheong County held any kind of event, he'd appear under the guise of being some kind of club president, dispensing unsolicited advice and delivering speeches.

Then, while he was at it, he'd get greedy over the prize merchandise and shake down donations for his beloved soccer club.

When Seung-seo finished his explanation, he added that Do Seo-gyeong, having worked at Pyeongcheong Napoli, must have suffered terribly for it. Anyone who'd fallen out of Lee Do-shin's good graces, he said, would find that no one in the area was willing to hire them.

So even out here in the countryside, people get up to this much nonsense over a whisker's worth of wealth and power.

When I clicked my tongue and rubbed my ears like I wanted to wash the story out of them, Oh Seung-seo laughed.

"Boss, you never go to the screen golf ranges or billiard halls where those guys hang out. So there's really no chance you'll ever bump into them, even by accident."

Right. Avoiding them was the best policy. If I did run into men like that, my temper would come out. I'd built up a good image as the face of Pyeongcheong County — there was no reason to go ruining it.

"Even if we cross paths, I just won't engage."

Oh Seung-seo smiled at that.

"You hardly ever go to Ugok 3-ri anyway, so there's no way you'll run into them."

That was what I thought, too.

It turned out I was wrong.

"How on earth are those men all here?"

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠next day. Oh Seung-seo had come out to the starting line before his café shift to cheer me on for the Pyeongcheong Marathon.

And there they were — the three villains of Ugok-ri, limbering up right in front of us!

Thwump, thwump!

What was worse, Son Gu-chul, Lee Do-shin, and Choi Jeong-tak were wearing matching outfits. They weren't the Red Devils or anything, but there they stood in red T-shirts and black shorts.

"Boss, it looks like those guys are running in the marathon today? And they seem to be on the same team."

"So I see."

"Azza, azza, fighting!"

Just then, the three villains clasped hands and thrust them skyward, shouting a war cry about how they'd claim victory in today's marathon.

The participants around them could be seen quietly inching away. It was painfully obvious they didn't want their day soured by getting mixed up with those three.

And yet whenever their eyes happened to meet, they forced a smile and a polite bow, then turned away and ground their teeth with the sour look of someone who'd bitten into something foul.

It made me wonder just how rotten a man's deeds had to be to earn reactions like that.

"Boss, don't stare at them so openly. If you really butt heads with those guys, your life gets a lot more annoying."

Oh Seung-seo gently took my arm and steered me around.

"You stay lofty and elegant like a swan, Boss. Let the cackling crows squawk at each other."

"Your brother's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the village head, Seung-seo, so I figured they'd leave you alone. You really can't stand them, huh?"

"A cockroach doesn't bite people the way a mosquito does. Doesn't make it any less loathsome to look at, though."

"Fair point."

Just then my phone buzzed. It was Choi Ho-gyeong.

Marathon registration was normally done online, then on race day you presented your ID at the venue, confirmed your participation, received your race number, pinned it on, and ran.

I told Ho-gyeong there was still plenty of time, wished her luck parking, and hung up.

"Thanks for coming all the way out here to cheer me on, Seung-seo. And today's Do Seo-gyeong's first day at the café — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠take good care of her for me."

"Don't worry. I'll do my part so we can all laugh together and work side by side for a long time."

"Good."

"Boss, hurry and go. I'm heading to work."

"Right. Drive safe — see you this evening."

I parted ways with Seung-seo and headed for the desk. Where, of all people, I ran smack into Son Gu-chul.

"Well, well, look who it is! Never thought I'd see you here."

I didn't answer. I just walked past him.

It wasn't simply that I disliked Son Gu-chul for growing up a neighborhood thug and doing nothing but wrong.

There was how he'd schemed to act as a lackey for Cho Eun-sun of Boram Loan after failing to land the county contracts. How he'd trailed a pack of hired goons to threaten me, Chai, and Bang Jeong-su.

If that was simply how Son Gu-chul lived his life, I hadn't wanted to bother with him. If he broke the law, he'd be punished with or without my interference. His reputation in the village was already in the gutter, so any business he tried from now on was bound to fail.

He knew that too — that was exactly why he ran with other villains, wasn't it? The outcome was obvious to anyone.

The more vicious bastard would lord it over the slightly less vicious bastards and squeeze profit out of them.

Fine. Live like that, then. Use each other and stab each other in the back in your own private little league.

"Hey, damn it! Seems like nobody listens when a man's talking!"

Son Gu-chul planted himself in front of me — and grabbed my shoulder.

In that instant, I saw a vision: Son Gu-chul, collapsed on the ground, bleeding.

What is this?

In the vision that flashed through my mind in a heartbeat, Son Gu-chul's hair had gone snow-white, and his face had turned a sallow, jaundiced black like a chronic alcoholic's.

A gaunt, skeletal body with hollow, vacant eyes — and a man standing over him, holding a bloodstained knife.

Son Seok-ha?

Son Seok-ha — Son Gu-chul's own son!

Son Seok-ha, who looked thirty-something in that vision, would turn on his own father?

I'd had brief flickers of the future brush through my mind before, and wondered if I'd developed some gift of foresight. But this time it was unmistakable. The vision I'd just seen carried a visceral certainty that it would actually happen.

Oh, my God.

I raised a hand and dragged it down my face.

Son Seok-ha, the thug who'd picked a fight with Bang Seong-hyun on his very first day of school. That kid had worn the marks of being beaten at home all over him — and his father was Son Gu-chul.

I saw it that time too, when I drove Bang Seong-hyun into town — Son Gu-chul beating Son Seok-ha in the street.

Apparently Son Gu-chul was the kind of man whose temper wouldn't rest until he'd put his hands on his own wife and child. A son raised under domestic violence — and it looked as though he'd end up broken past all mending.

"Son Gu-chul."

I forced down the bitterness swelling in my chest and looked him in the eye.

"You know what they say these days? Hell's so full that people are taking their punishment while they're still alive."

"The hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you."

I stepped in close and lowered my voice to a warning.

"If you don't stop raising your fists — starting now — you will die paying for it. Remember my words. Stop using violence, not just on your own flesh and blood, but on anyone."

"You — what gives you the right to—"

My eyes must have been quite something to behold. Or perhaps a flame had flickered up in them, chilling and bright.

Son Gu-chul couldn't even breathe. He blinked rapidly, then shuddered from head to toe.

"A-and you're no damn shaman, so what's with the fortune-telling garbage?"

"I'm not a shaman. I'm something a good deal higher."

"Wh-what?"

"Be grateful. Not that I gave you the warning for your sake — I'd just rather not hear on the news that Ugok-ri produced a murderer."

I clapped a hand down on Son Gu-chul's shoulder — thud.

A small, trivial repayment for him grabbing mine without permission a moment ago.

And then—

"Ugh... creepy bastard."

Son Gu-chul, ashen-faced, shuffled past me and walked on. But he'd barely taken a few steps when he let out a strangled yelp and pitched forward flat on his face.

Abe had swept his leg. Neatly, precisely, face-first into the dirt.

"Uuuggh, aigoo... ow, ow."

Being the marathon starting line, the place was crawling with guides, medics, and police. The medical team was even chatting idly in the tent directly in front of where Son Gu-chul had fallen.

Yet not a single soul moved. Nobody hurried over to ask if he was hurt.

Son Gu-chul must have sensed something too, because he stiffened, scrambled to his feet, and limped away without so much as tending to his scraped knees.

I hoped — really hoped — he'd remember what I'd told him. That he'd pay for it all while he was still alive.

A few days spent horsing around with Spirit No. 1, and Abe had picked up a streak of black as well, had he?

I gave him a small shake of the head. Don't. He's got nothing left ahead of him but suffering under the weight of the karma he's piled up himself.

A shadow of failure hung about Son Gu-chul — misfortune, calamity, even the sign of parting. I didn't want to sense any of it, and yet I couldn't help it.

"You have to win this! If you do your part, Yoon-ho, we've got first place in the bag!"

Park Seok-tae loosened up, eyes blazing. Beside him, Choi Ho-gyeong snickered.

"All three of us have to cross the finish line for a team win, you know. No matter how well Yoon-ho does, if you collapse at the halfway mark, Seok-tae, it's all for nothing."

"That's not going to happen! I need that money for fertilizer, I'm telling you!"

Park Seok-tae vowed to himself that he would claim the three-million-won first-place prize no matter what it took.

"The way I see it, as long as we beat the Nonghyup team, we can actually take this."

"I think so too."

Word was that the Nonghyup team had been jogging every single day on the chairman's orders to promote community sports. One look at them and you could tell they were built to run.

Park Seok-tae sidled up next to me.

"Which means it all comes down to you, Yoon-ho. Stick to the plan we made — exactly as we planned it. Got it?"

"Leave it to me."

The marathon was finally about to begin.

Huh. I'm actually kind of excited?

I was looking forward to it — to finding out just how fast I could really run.