Chapter 89
Chapter 89
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Translator : M.N 1391
Chapter: 89
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The situation steadily turned against him. It didn’t look easy to escape either. A metal net woven from wires and steel chains clung to him, repeatedly pinning him to the ground whenever he tried to flee into the air by riding the black smoke.
At this rate, it looked like it was only a matter of time before Black Smoke was hunted down.
“Yeah! Kill him! Kill that bastard who killed my children!”
From a safe place, the old man watched the live footage of the battlefield, shouting in excitement. It was Black Noya who had killed his children, but to the old man, Black Smoke, who had inherited Black Noya’s ability and beaten his grandson half to death and broken his legs, was no different from Black Noya himself.
However, Black Smoke’s disadvantage did not last long. Out of nowhere, a man dressed in black suddenly appeared and began attacking the hired killers from behind.
The man in black charged at them with a single karambit in hand. His knife skills were far from ordinary.
The hired killers tried to split their numbers to deal with the man in black, but Black Smoke’s situational judgment was faster. The black smoke began supporting the man in black.
The man in black took the vanguard, and Black Smoke covered the rear.
Their coordination was far from perfect, but the ability known as telekinesis was more than enough to make up for their mismatched rhythm.
At critical moments, the black smoke blocked incoming crossbow bolts, thrown daggers, and other lethal attacks, creating plenty of openings for the man in black to rush in.
The encirclement fell apart. Their combination wasn’t enough to defeat the superpowered hired killers, but it was more than sufficient to withdraw.
“Uaaaah! Aaaaargh!”
Watching the two of them escape, someone screamed in a voice filled with madness, smashing and throwing everything within reach.
= = = = =
Returning once again to a monk-like quiet life, Kyung-wan was twisting his entire body out of boredom.
Nam Dong-geon was doing his job too diligently and too well, leaving Kyung-wan with no room to step in. Even if they weren’t superpowered, anyone who disrupted prison discipline got beaten down by Nam Dong-geon himself, and among the superpowered inmates, there was still no one who could be compared to him, so no one dared to resist.
The guards, too, relied more often on Nam Dong-geon, who showed a sincere attitude toward rehabilitation and was easy to deal with, than on Kyung-wan, who displayed a bit(?) of a lunatic streak.
From the perspective of the Human Rights Commission, this was a situation ripe for criticism, but the prison had already effectively become a dedicated facility for superpowered criminals, operating under the protection of both the government and corporations. The Commission didn’t dare say much. No matter how much people talked about human rights, in the current situation, a place capable of securely housing superpowered criminals was absolutely necessary.
What eased Kyung-wan’s boredom, even a little, was internet surfing.
These days, he found it quite entertaining to read posts and comments about a documentary titled ‘The Mentalist’ that had aired in the United States. It was the very documentary Kang Woo-bin had filmed using Kyung-wan as the subject.
The comments were filled with insults toward Kyung-wan and heated arguments from those defending him, escalating to the level of outright personal attacks.
At the core was the clash of opinions between the destruction of the rule of law caused by allowing private punishment, and the resulting social instability, and the citizens’ right to resist a rule of law that had been broken to an almost unfair degree.
The gap between these positions showed no sign of narrowing. The reason was that it was extremely difficult to simultaneously crack down on those currently engaging in self-help justice, the so-called villains, and reform the judicial system at the same time.
Another point of contention was whether judicial reform would really proceed smoothly even if the villains were caught first. After all, would those who had formed cartels by colluding with the entrenched elite willingly accept reform? It was obvious they would band together, mobilizing every connection they had, media, politicians, legal professionals, to sabotage the reforms.
Because it was such a difficult issue, the divide over private punishment versus citizens’ resistance rights went beyond simple likes or dislikes of Kyung-wan himself. It split people into those who opposed all so-called villains as a whole and those who accepted them.
‘Congratulations! That bastard’s grandson hospitalized!’
└You commie bastard
└Yeah, gas-tank boomer.
└This feels a bit wrong. There’s no guilt by association in this country.
└Let’s see if you still say that after your parents or kids get grabbed by soldiers on the street, raped or beaten with rifle butts until they die, then dumped in some pit so you can’t even find the body.
└That’s way too harsh.
└Yeah, says the would-be criminal who can’t empathize with victims and only sympathizes with perpetrators.
└Talking about empathy? Must be a fem-type.
└No, you’re the fem for sympathizing with the perpetrator.
└Doesn’t it smell like an idiot around here?
└Yeah, it does. Ever since you showed up.
“Heh heh heh!”
Kyung-wan laughed like a mischievous kid as he typed. What he did online was like bringing firewood from one side when that side ran short, then taking it back from the other side when the other ran out.
He cackled at the reactions of the people he provoked, but since he couldn’t spend all 24 hours on the internet, he eventually had to return to his solitary cell.
Lying down to sleep, he suddenly fell into a deep post-clarity slump. What was all this nonsense, anyway?
“Damn, I’m bored.”
Kyung-wan accurately diagnosed his own condition. What he needed was stimulation.
But for someone who had already given up money, fame, women, and society itself, what kind of stimulation could he possibly need?
While he was lost in those thoughts, Kang Woo-bin came to visit him some time later. Kyung-wan didn’t refuse. His boredom outweighed his annoyance.
“Thanks to you, it was a huge hit.”
“That’s because the director did a great job.”
Kyung-wan deflected the credit while tearing into the chicken Kang Woo-bin had brought.
Kang Woo-bin brought up money first.
“So, about your appearance fee, how should we handle it?”
“Well? Maybe donate it somewhere good?”
“A noble sentiment, but I’m skeptical about whether there’s a foundation that’s truly decent.”
At the negative tone, Kyung-wan watched him as if telling him to continue, and Kang Woo-bin went on.
“To be honest, charities are basically business models that use people’s sympathy as bait.”
After deducting all sorts of operating costs, labor, materials, and so on, what percentage of donations actually reaches those who need help?
Kyung-wan replied like this.
“It’s hypocritical, but isn’t it better than doing nothing at all?”
If disgust at hypocrisy stopped even small acts of kindness, then not a single person would receive help. And realistically, the convenience of donating existed precisely because someone made a profession out of handling and delivering those donations.
But Kang Woo-bin responded like this.
“The problem is that there are too many trash people who profit off human goodwill.”
When donation money funds luxury yacht lifestyles and gets handed out as so-called performance bonuses, it’s no longer strange that people put on tinted glasses the moment they hear the word ‘charity.’
Since when did charities become profit-seeking corporations? Is it wrong to expect that the place I donate to will act in genuine goodwill and pass on as much of the money as possible after keeping only minimal operating costs?
Kang Woo-bin continued.
“If you give your permission, I’d like to use your appearance fee and royalties to create a foundation with a different character from existing ones.”
“What kind of foundation?”
“A foundation to protect whistleblowers, no, public interest reporters, from economic threats.”
“Oh ho~.”
Seemingly intrigued, Kyung-wan leaned his upper body toward the table.
Pleased with the reaction, Kang Woo-bin also leaned forward slightly, speaking like they were plotting something together.
“There are plenty of foundations that help the poor, but you’d be hard-pressed to find even one that helps those who risk everything because of a rotten society.”
“Well. Then corporations wouldn’t donate, would they?”
“Of course not. Aren’t they despicable? Cutting off the livelihoods of people who showed courage to help society. If that weren’t the case, I wouldn’t even be making this proposal.”
Is it really possible to crack down on every illegal or unethical act committed by corporations? In a country without punitive damages?
In the end, society has no choice but to rely on whistleblowers, yet the reality is that even those whistleblowers aren’t properly protected.
If their identity is exposed, they’re branded as internal snitches and traitors, making it nearly impossible to find employment. Didn’t the naval officer who exposed corruption end up unable to get a corporate job and had to join a government agency that monitors social corruption?
That meant that once a whistleblower’s identity was revealed, the only way to make a living was through state support.
Even then, that was only possible because he had been a commissioned officer with sufficient ability. No matter how conscientious someone was, the state couldn’t just hand out positions to people without the qualifications. If it did, there would inevitably be people who attacked that decision.
When someone gains an opportunity, someone else loses one. Rice bowls were a sensitive issue.
Kyung-wan nodded.
“Sounds good. I’ll contribute all my guarantee and appearance fees to the foundation. But will the money be enough?”
“If it’s not enough, we can accept donations from elsewhere. Not everyone will sympathize, but given the nature of the foundation, expenses won’t be that high.”
Indeed, there wouldn’t be that many whistleblowers. How many people truly possessed both a sense of public good and public virtue, and the willingness to act on their convictions while accepting personal loss?
Kyung-wan pointed out another concern.
“Aren’t there going to be a lot of people who hate this?”
Protecting whistleblowers from economic hardship? Corporations wouldn’t like that. And it was already an open secret that those corporations had long managed prosecutors and courts behind the scenes.
In response, Kang Woo-bin shrugged as if it were no problem at all.
“I’m an American. And my network is broader than you’d think.”
“Oh! That’s reassuring.”
“By the way, are you planning to stay in prison indefinitely?”
Kang Woo-bin changed the subject.
“Why?”
“With your abilities, you could become a free man anytime you want.”
From a common-sense perspective, it sounded absurd.
Paradoxically, Kang Woo-bin’s question implied that he wasn’t thinking in common-sense terms.
But when you thought carefully about what reality really was, it wasn’t entirely wrong.
A world where things beyond imagination happened all the time.
If Kyung-wan truly wanted to, he had more than enough ability to leave this prison, whether through a pardon in Korea or laundering his identity as an American.
If only it weren’t for that damn personality of his.
“Oh come on~. For my sake, and for the world’s sake, it’s better if I keep my distance like this.”
“Well, you’re not someone bound by worldly values.”
Having interviewed experts and researched extensive material about Kyung-wan for the documentary, Kang Woo-bin had a decent grasp of what kind of person he was.
“You’re the kind of person you could describe as having a very heavy backside.”
“I acknowledge that.”
Kyung-wan nodded.
Kang Woo-bin then changed the topic again.
“By the way, did you know there’s been a very controversial contract signed in the U.S. lately?”
“No idea. I hardly follow foreign news.”
Dynamic Korea was already so packed with incidents and accidents that there was no need to look abroad.
But what Kang Woo-bin said next was no trivial matter.
“They say the city of Detroit signed an MOU with the National Superpower Association.”
“The fact that it was signed matters less than what’s in it.”
“Yes. The content is essentially the privatization of a public security organization.”
“Uh… isn’t that basically vigilante activity?”
“Well. Even I find it hard to define.”
The reason armies and police are generally state-run organizations is to secure public authority through the monopoly on violence. North Korea’s military-first politics, and dictators trying to privatize armies, all stem from the same truth: power comes from the barrel of a gun.
But the privatization of public security? Was it because it was a country where the citizens’ right to resist was enshrined in the constitution and firearms were freely available? It was a very different mindset from Korea’s.