Reasons for Leaving Korea (2)
Older folks have plenty to teach us.
The wisdom and insight accumulated over decades of life can turn them into true elders.
But where there's light, there's shadow.
The deadliest flaw of age is how it makes people shameless.
Shame wears thin, personal greed trumps others' opinions, and narrow experiences get paraded as absolute truth—stubborn arrogance.
We usually call such people one thing:
"They've grown old disgracefully."
Unfortunately, Jin-su had fallen right into the clutches of these disgraceful elders.
It was a rare peaceful afternoon.
Jin-su finished his farm work early and headed to his family home in Busan.
Today was his mother's birthday.
Armed with gifts in both hands, he planned a cozy dinner with his parents for the first time in ages.
The moment Jin-su's car pulled out of the village outskirts, the eyes of the village elders lounging on the rice paddy ridge flashed.
"Hey? That Jin-su punk's headin' out."
The owner was away from home.
To them, it was an opportunity.
Arriving at his Busan family home, Jin-su sat down at the table with his parents.
He was just about to scoop up a bite of the warm home-cooked meal they'd prepared for their son's visit when—
Smart Farm Security System Activated
Jin-su's smartphone blared with a piercing alarm.
The smart farm security system had detected an intruder and sent an immediate notification.
"What the—?!"
Jin-su's face drained of color.
This wasn't some glitch—the sensors were reacting too intensely.
"Sorry! Something urgent came up—I gotta go!"
He bolted without even finishing his rice bowl, jumping into his car.
From Busan to Hampyeong.
A drive that usually took leisurely hours, Jin-su floored the accelerator and covered it in two.
Bursting through the pitch-black darkness to the farm, the sight that greeted him as he stepped out was utter devastation.
"Ah......"
The farm door, which he'd securely locked, had been pried open with a crowbar or something similar and stood wide ajar.
Inside, things were even worse.
Hiss!
Someone had tampered with the control system, triggering the ceiling sprinklers into a malfunctioning deluge.
The floor was a flooded mess.
Sensors and environmental controls worth tens of millions of won—vulnerable to moisture—were already waterlogged and dead.
But what truly shattered Jin-su was the crops.
The neatly aligned hydroponic growers had been trampled into wreckage, and his prized high-value leafy greens were uprooted and scattered everywhere.
With trembling hands, Jin-su pulled out his phone to check the CCTV footage.
The screen showed familiar faces: village elders giggling as they yanked up lettuce, poking at the machines in curiosity until the malfunction started, then fleeing in panic.
"These... insane old bastards..."
Jin-su dialed 112 in a daze.
Soon, police sirens wailed as a car arrived.
Even the officers clicked their tongues at the massive damage.
"Sir, let's head to the station and file a formal statement."
Jin-su bit his lip hard.
This time, he wouldn't let it slide.
A cold venom glinted in his eyes.
Before long, the tiny village station turned into a bustling marketplace.
The elders, hauled in the back of the patrol car, showed no remorse or fear.
Instead, they chewed gum obnoxiously or lounged on the station sofa, legs crossed, slurping mix coffee the cops had given them, faces sour like they'd been caught unfairly.
"What? We didn't break in to steal or nothin'!"
The ringleader, old man Kim, raised his voice indignantly.
"We just heard Jin-su was farmin' with all these fancy machines, got curious durin' our stroll, that's all!"
A grandma nearby chimed in.
"Right! Door was locked, thought maybe someone was inside, so we pried it a bit. Then water came pourin' from the ceiling—scared us half to death, so we ran!"
Jin-su let out a disbelieving laugh.
"Ha! A stroll?"
He slammed the desk.
"Prying open someone else's business with a crowbar is a stroll? That's special theft and trespassing!"
"What? Special... whatevs?"
Old man Kim glared and pointed accusingly.
"You punk! When an elder speaks, you at least pretend to listen—don't gawk and yell like that. No manners at all, tsk tsk."
It was the height of audacity.
Committing a crime and then using age as a shield to shout—Jin-su's reason nearly snapped.
"What does age have to do with anything?! You trashed my farm!"
"Hey now, Jin-su, calm down."
Sergeant Kim, who'd been watching, sidled in awkwardly.
He stood between them, looking troubled.
"Sit down first. Cool off."
He pulled Jin-su aside and whispered slyly.
"Look, sir... If we file this officially, it's trouble for everyone. The elders weren't malicious—just curious..."
Jin-su couldn't believe his ears.
"No malice? They broke in!"
"C'mon, rural old folks—how much law do they know? Settle it amicably? You're neighbors; gotta see these faces forever."
Neighbors.
The repulsive word twisted Jin-su's guts.
"Sergeant, do you get the situation?"
Jin-su enunciated through gritted teeth.
"It's not about a few lettuce leaves. Flooding wrecked tens of millions in sensors and gear. Repairs alone are millions; crop losses push it over a hundred million!"
"A... hundred million?!"
Sergeant Kim's eyes widened.
But he scratched his head, looking inconvenienced.
"Still... those old geezers got no money. How're they payin' that? Apology, some repair cash—call it good? Don't make a fuss and sour things."
Even the cops were in on it.
Damage amount, the law—none of it mattered.
Just lazy bureaucrats avoiding hassle and village drama.
Jin-su realized: in this rotten backwater, no law or justice protected him.
Bam!
Jin-su stormed out, fury boiling over.
Once he was gone, the tense station air loosened into a rural gossip den.
"Tch, kids these days got no patience."
"Yeah, jumpin' around over that."
The elders sank deep into the sofa, gulping their mix coffee noisily, as if they'd never flinched.
They chewed over insults and gossip about Jin-su like snacks.
Then, old man Kim—the ringleader—glanced at the uniformed sergeant and casually dropped the honorifics.
"Chun-bong, how's it? Nothin' big, right?"
Chun-bong.
Sergeant Kim's real name.
Indeed, he was old man Kim's nephew.
Sergeant Kim—Chun-bong—flashed a friendly grin and waved it off.
"Nah, Uncle, don't worry."
"Saw that punk earlier, eyes blazin', talkin' 'bout filin' charges."
"Oh, that?"
Sergeant Kim eyed Jin-su's complaint form on the desk and shrugged nonchalantly.
"It's filed, but I make excuses, don't process it, bury it—done. Haha."
Words unfit for a cop sworn to uphold the law.
The elders' faces lit up.
"Hahaha! Right!"
"You bet! Our Chun-bong handles it perfect~ Gotta run for county office someday!"
"Go home, sleep easy!"
What they'd done, how they'd ruined Jin-su's life—none of it mattered.
Drunk on having an insider, they roared with laughter that shook the station.
The estimate: 40 million won for core controls and sensors.
10 million more for ruined crops and lost production.
Total: 50 million won.
The blood, sweat, and loans young farmer Jin-su had scraped together—gone up in smoke.
Clutching the trembling estimate, he stormed the station.
But the response was pure despair.
"Closed with no charges."
"What?! Bullshit! CCTV proves it!"
"Well, report said amicable settlement on-site. No prosecution."
"Settlement? Who settled? Me?!"
Fuming to his scalp, Jin-su filed complaints with the district station.
But same story.
Sergeant Kim had pulled strings, or the village cartel had kicked in.
Papers dismissed with a single lie: "Closed due to on-site settlement."
No officials, no cops.
Not one soul in this alien rural hell helped Jin-su.
That's when it started.
A deep, dark hatred of humanity sprouted in his heart.
"Fine... we'll do it by the book. Handle it yourselves. Let's see if you pull that in court."
Grinding his teeth, Jin-su headed to the courthouse.
No faith in cops? File a civil suit directly.
Luckily, the court wasn't as rotten as the outpost.
Evidence and estimates were ironclad; the complaint was accepted smoothly.
Days later.
Claim Amount: 50,000,000 KRW
The red-stamped summons hit the elders' homes—folks who'd never seen a courthouse.
They jolted in shock.
But instead of remorse, they chose something viler.
"That rotten punk suin' us?!"
Word spread; the whole village rose up.
From then, Jin-su's home became hell.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Hey! Kim Jin-su! Open up!"
Day and night, they pounded the gate like it would shatter.
Abuse was baseline; threats daily.
"You human scum? Extortin' over a little mistake?"
"Drop the suit now, or you won't last here!"
"Watch your back at night, huh? Might bury you quiet-like."
Stones flew through windows; trash piled at the door.
Jin-su drew all curtains, lights off, huddled inside.
Curses and yells from outside.
Pitch-black night fell.
But around his house, it was broad daylight noise.
"Kim Jin-su! Come out, you poison!"
"Gonna choke elders to death?!"
Village head's megaphone for noise terror.
A stone shattered a window pane—crash!
Staring at glass shards on the floor, Jin-su hugged his knees, shivering.
He was scared.
Not just of them harming him.
Of staying put and killing them.
Of his reason snapping, turning murderer.
Pop!
Suddenly, the house lights died.
The smart farm's fans outside cut off too.
"They... cut the power?"
This mad village? Totally possible.
Powerless smart farm? Scrap metal now.
Remaining crops would suffocate.
Then, something snapped in Jin-su.
Lingering attachment.
"I'm leaving."
This wasn't fit for humans.
It was hell.
In the dark, Jin-su packed furtively.
As he did, Ji-hoon's job ad from days ago flashed in his mind.
Requirements: Preference for unique talents / Farm work capable
Jin-su gave a hollow laugh.
He'd handled smart farm setup, crop growing, system controls solo.
"...Why not apply?"
Beasts who won't talk sense? Better mute foreigners—they seemed more human.
3 a.m.
Elders worn out, quiet at last.
Jin-su slipped out like a stray cat.
Into the car, ignition on.
Vroom!
Rearview: silent village.
Demons hid in that peaceful rural scene.
Jin-su gripped the wheel.
"Suit stays on. I'll see it through."
Lawyer had full power of attorney.
Body leaves, but legal reckoning to the ends of the earth.
Jin-su hit the gas.
No looking back.
Thus, young farmer Kim Jin-su—who'd come with dreams of rural life—
fled the village like a fugitive in the dead of night.