Chapter 19
Chapter 19
-------------------------------------------------
Translator : M.N 1391
Chapter: 19
-------------------------------------------------
He had crippled that guy, so retaliation from the organization was inevitable.
Since the guy was weak and had no backing, weak enough to end up in juvenile detention, they would first squeeze him for a hefty settlement, and if that wasn’t enough, they’d probably sell him off to a Chinese deep-sea fishing boat to make up for their losses.
But Kyung-wan only shrugged.
“No.”
His expression said, I don’t know what you’re talking about, and to Song Cheol-ho, that expression looked unbelievably stupid.
But that made it even better.
Stupid kids were easy to use.
“To be blunt, what you need right now is an umbrella to keep the rain off.”
“I don’t need one.”
Even after he himself stepped forward and tried to talk smoothly, he was rejected instantly, and Song Cheol-ho’s face hardened.
“You’ll regret it.”
“So what? Life is something you regret anyway.”
There isn’t a single person in this world who lives without regrets.
People regret getting married, regret not getting married, regret failing to get married.
Even sages renowned as the Four Great Saints couldn’t escape the torment of regret.
A person without regret? That would be nothing but a monster wearing a human mask.
At Kyung-wan’s answer, Song Cheol-ho gave a sly smile.
“Well, you’ll see later. Just don’t come crying and clinging to me then.”
“If I cry and cling, you’ll pretend to be generous and help me anyway. Don’t act coy.”
“…”
Song Cheol-ho’s expression went blank as he looked at Kyung-wan.
His face seemed to say, How did this brat know that?
Human psychology was strange, when someone hurts you and then offers the cure, people often feel more gratitude than resentment.
People hate the sister-in-law who tries to stop the beating more than the mother-in-law who actually hits them.
There’s even Stockholm Syndrome, where victims take the perpetrator’s side.
All of these were examples that perfectly represented the contradictions of human nature, and Kyung-wan understood them very well.
That was why he saw right through Song Cheol-ho’s little scheme.
In the end, the guy wanted to act like he was doing a favor so he could leash and exploit him.
He was still too young, he couldn’t even hide that intention properly.
Kyung-wan continued speaking.
“So what you want from helping me… is probably my skill?”
“I told you I’m not helping.”
Song Cheol-ho tried to feign innocence after his motives were exposed down to the core, but that didn’t work on Kyung-wan.
“I’m not planning to get involved in that world. Thanks for the offer, but no thanks.”
“You little punk. Then what are you going to eat and live on?”
He snapped at him.
Song Cheol-ho felt regret, but also quietly gave up.
This brat could fight, could think, and was sharp.
If he tried to use him, he might end up being the one eaten instead.
Even so, pretending to worry about the kid’s future was simply a way to confirm where he would go and whether he might eventually become an obstacle.
And if he did become an obstacle…
He’d eliminate him in advance.
Was this really the thought process of a minor?
But juvenile crime was lowering in age every year, and the brutality was only getting worse.
Kids knew everything nowadays.
They knew exactly what “age of criminal responsibility” meant and how to exploit it.
In the flood of information brought by the internet, there was no room left for innocence.
Kyung-wan answered.
“I’m just going to live quietly without bothering anyone.”
“And how exactly?”
“I’ll work a little, and when I get tired of it, maybe I’ll go live in the mountains or something.”
His real goal was to become a homeless guy living off other people’s kindness, but he wasn’t stupid enough to confess that to a young budding villain.
The kid seemed satisfied with the answer and let out a relieved expression before giving advice again as if doing a favor.
“If you ever need help, come find me.”
“Thanks.”
He wasn’t thankful, but Kyung-wan thanked him anyway, as if Song Cheol-ho had acted out of goodwill.
If a few sweet words could buy some peace, wasn’t that a profitable deal?
Thus ended his meeting with Song Cheol-ho.
And the warden called Kyung-wan again.
“I think you’ll have to remain in solitary.”
“Kim Jintae. Right?”
“…Sigh.”
The warden confirmed it with a long exhale.
Just as Kyung-wan said, Yoon Kyung-seok had been hired for a hit job, and a gangster named Kim Jintae was backing him.
There was no proof, but the warden had dealt with criminals for years, this much circumstantial evidence was enough to be certain.
And that certainty led to the conclusion that Kyung-wan needed to be separated from the young would-be gangsters.
“From now on, solitary confinement will continue.”
His tone implied that it would be rough, but Kyung-wan only shrugged.
“As long as you increase my outdoor walks, I’m fine.”
Since it was already promised, the warden nodded, and Kyung-wan was allowed thirty minutes of fresh air three times a day after each meal.
A considerable privilege, an exceptional accommodation by the warden.
The warden was human too.
If Kyung-wan had attacked someone who was obediently serving his time, there would be no mercy.
But he had disciplined a future gangster, hadn’t he?
He couldn’t admit it due to professional ethics, but frankly, it felt good.
Running a juvenile detention center made one realize, year after year, that “kids these days” weren’t really kids at all.
Thanks to this arrangement, Kyung-wan spent his days quietly.
He was a bit bored, but recalling memories from the past or calming the turmoil rising from the depths of his mind took effort, and that was enough to kill boredom.
When he got tired of that, he exercised.
Even inside a narrow solitary cell, he had ways to train effectively, and he sweated with consideration to his one shower time per day.
He hated to admit it, but the freshness and comfort humans felt could not be obtained without sweating.
During that month in solitary, Kyung-wan spent his time rather productively.
He meditated, trained his body, read books or browsed the internet to gather information about the world he would live in.
His access to outside information was limited, but even if he had more, he had no intention of overworking anyway.
He simply knew how to extract maximum efficiency in minimum time.
They say some people learned quickly because they wanted more time to play.
It sounded like a lie, but for those who knew the trick, it was true, and Kyung-wan was one of those people.
Of course, not everyone could learn such tricks.
It was a kind of enlightenment built on talent.
Over that month, his body also improved significantly.
His muscles grew in a healthy, functional way.
Youth accelerated his physical conditioning, and his stronger body ensured greater comfort.
The body was the prison holding the mind, polish it, and the mind inside grew calmer as well.
Kyung-wan thought he would remain trouble-free until release.
Then came one lunchtime.
He received his tray and sat down.
Other inmates did the same.
And then, a sharp sensation flared across his nerves.
The instant something sharp flew toward his neck, the sixth sense he had been ignoring activated.
Kyung-wan raised his forearm to shield his throat and leaned back, dodging the attack aimed at his neck.
But the stabbing pain in his arm told him he hadn’t completely avoided it.
“Die!”
A voice dripping with murderous intent made it clear he intended to attack again, but Kyung-wan’s other hand grabbed the wrist holding the weapon and yanked.
The boy, unknown and still immature, grabbed Kyung-wan’s head for balance, but the strength Kyung-wan had honed, combined with the turning motion from his waist, stole the boy’s balance and toppled him onto Kyung-wan’s thigh.
Their faces were inches apart.
The attacker’s young face twisted with killing intent.
Kyung-wan’s expression looking down at him was indifferent, like a factory worker on an assembly line.
As if performing the most natural task, he drove the plastic chopstick straight into the boy’s eyeball.
“Aaaagh!”
The boy dropped the weapon and covered the area around the embedded chopstick with trembling fingers, but Kyung-wan grabbed his hair and tossed him aside like throwing out trash.
Then he looked at his ruined tray and sighed.
“Damn. I didn’t even get to finish…”
The complaint, muttered casually, was so mundane compared to the situation that it felt uncanny.
Its strangeness was enough to make even the guards rushing over hesitate.
But like all weary office workers, they had to clean up whatever mess occurred in their jurisdiction.
They rushed the one-eyed inmate to the hospital and sent Kyung-wan to the infirmary.
They also hurried to secure the weapon used in the attack.
The weapon that had cut Kyung-wan’s forearm was a sharpened tile fragment, about three centimeters long, attached to a finger-sized wooden stick, essentially a crude knife.
= = = = =
“Hey! Didn’t I tell you not to cause trouble?!”
A familiar scolding.
Kyung-wan replied.
“That’s the third time you’ve said that.”
“When someone talks to you, you should listen!”
The warden yelled, and Kyung-wan shrugged.
“Well, I can’t exactly let myself die.”
“Good grief…”
The warden was a reasonable man.
He understood the circumstances, so he didn’t assign extra blame to Kyung-wan.
But the situation itself was a headache.
He had to deal with the fact that a kid had smuggled in a weapon, and then deal with the fact that the same kid lost an eye because of Kyung-wan.
It was all one big migraine.
“Did you really have to go that far?”
The warden calmed his anger enough to ask.
Even if he had been attacked with a weapon, impaling the kid’s eyeball without a moment’s hesitation was shockingly brutal.
Kyung-wan answered.
“It was a reflex.”
“Unbelievable.”
Stabbing someone’s eyeball with a chopstick without a split-second of hesitation, a reflex?
At the warden’s disbelief, Kyung-wan offered a shameless excuse.
“I was born like this. What can I do?”
“That’s a cowardly excuse.”
“You can think so. I’m going to live the way I was born.”
“You’ll end up back in prison at this rate.”
“I’m actually quite a law-abiding citizen, you know.”
“Bullshit.”
The warden was exasperated, but Kyung-wan genuinely believed he was law-abiding.
“If I wasn’t, I would’ve broken out and become a fugitive already.”
“You could just follow the law from the start.”
“That’s not always possible. Like this, imagine a law gets passed that being bald is illegal. Bald guys start scrambling to get hair implants, but I say screw it, I’ve got no money and no desire to get implants, so I’ll stay bald. Fine me, toss me in prison, do whatever.”
As he spoke, Kyung-wan glanced subtly at the warden’s forehead.
The warden, trying to hide the fact he wore a toupee, forced a calm expression and responded.
“No such law would ever pass.”
“It’s just an analogy. My basic rule is this: if someone swings a weapon with the intent to harm, they should be ready to face the same.”
“You have no intention of changing that rule?”
“If I could change it that easily, would I even be in here?”
Their conversation spun in circles.
A member of society and someone who rejected society spoke like two gears, one intact and one with all its teeth worn down.
Sometimes they meshed, but often they slipped and spun uselessly.
Feeling sorry for the sighing warden, Kyung-wan offered comfort.
“At least now, nobody in here is going to take a contract on me anymore. No one wants to end up one-eyed.”