Finding Transportation 6
Inside the room, it was now truly just the two of us—me and Sim Geum-a.
She spoke as if she had run into an old friend, her tone warm and familiar, yet I could feel the sharp edge of appraisal hidden in her eyes.
"That's quite a toy you have."
She pointed at the suit I had taken off, speaking in fluent English.
"It's not a toy."
I answered briefly. An intrigued smile curved her lips.
"Okay, okay. So, where did you get that 'not a toy'?"
I replied to her English question in Korean.
"Well. I picked it up? By chance."
At my response she studied me for a moment, then switched to an entirely different language.
"Хорошо, тогда о сделке."
Russian. Not knowing what it meant, I could only stare blankly at her.
Seeing my reaction, she gave a short laugh and tried yet another tongue.
"Jaa, torihiki no hanashi o shimashou ka."
Japanese. Once again, I understood nothing.
"Na women tantan jiaoyi ba."
And finally Chinese as well.
Faced with her dazzling command of foreign languages, I could only sit there looking thoroughly bewildered.
Watching me, Sim Geum-a at last spoke in Korean.
"...So you're not a foreigner, then."
She had been testing me—checking whether this advanced equipment might belong to some foreign special forces unit or secret organization.
Having confirmed me as an ordinary(?) Korean, she once more looked me over from head to toe. Her gaze moved like a scanner, as if determined to analyze every inch of me.
"Hmm..."
She scrutinized me for a long while, then tilted her head and asked,
"You look quite a bit younger than I expected. Why would someone like you take such risks just to get a car?"
I repeated the same answer Yang Jin-ju had given earlier.
"As I said before, there's something I need to bring back, and it's a bit large, so I need a vehicle."
"And what exactly is that 'something'?"
"That seems like a question unrelated to the deal."
At my dry reply she clicked her tongue in irritation.
She refused to give up, circling back again and again with different angles—where we had come from, how many more of us there were, where the suit had come from.
I continued to answer like a machine, always the same lines.
"That's a question unrelated to the deal."
"I can't say."
"I picked it up by chance."
"Geez, this is too much. What are you, a parrot?"
Faced with my iron wall of replies, Sim Geum-a finally seemed to concede. She leaned deep into the back of her chair.
"Fine. Then how about this."
She tossed an interesting proposal my way.
"First I'll tell you my story. In exchange, you either tell me yours, or answer just one thing I'm curious about. Fair enough?"
Before I could even agree, she launched into her past on her own.
Sim Geum-a had been the head of a mid-level organization that protected and managed foreign women who had drifted in from neighboring countries to sell their bodies. In every surrounding nation there were groups that brought women over for money. But those groups only handled the importing; they were clumsy at finding the women work or solving the problems that arose once they were on the ground. Constant management failures led to runaways and police raids that shut down establishments.
Sim Geum-a had slipped into that gap. She bought the women cheaply and managed and protected them inside her own territory. Of course some still ran, yet she had earned a certain reputation—both among the women themselves and among the other organizations. Through steady oversight and careful lobbying of the police, she showed a firm hand inside her zone, weeding out the worst clients early. The women still had to sell their bodies, but they did not regard her as someone who ruthlessly exploited or crushed them. Other organizations, for their part, trusted her because she paid exactly what was owed the moment people were delivered, and the business continued.
In time she stopped being merely a middleman and built an organization of her own, expanding into other lines of trade. She had a good head for business. The truly high-end talent—women with outstanding looks—she invested in heavily so they could be sold at premium prices. The rest she shifted into bars and karaoke rooms where they could earn without selling their bodies, creating a stable stream of income. A portion of the money she funneled back to her people and the working women, securing at least their trust if not full loyalty, and gradually growing her power. To keep rival groups from touching her lightly, she even smuggled in a few guns through Russian contacts.
The business prospered slowly; money and people kept flowing into her hands.
Then the zombie outbreak hit.
A woman who had always lived in the shadows, where fists mattered more than law, she moved faster than anyone in those first days. Armed with the Russian weapons she had quietly stockpiled, she gathered the organization members and women who followed her, seized the most solid building nearby, and used the guns to intimidate and strip the surrounding area of every resource she could reach. Having already survived several bloody clashes with other groups, she no longer flinched at bloodshed. Once she possessed a measure of force, she absorbed or threatened the smaller survivor bands around her, swelling like a snowball. She collected the technicians from those groups and began constructing the massive walls that now stood, the bare minimum needed to keep her territory safe. Recently she had somehow obtained a large stock of food, drawing in still more resources and people until she finished this impregnable fortress.
That was the woman who had built her own kingdom in this hellish world: Sim Geum-a.
When she finished her story she stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and looked at me.
"All right. Now you'll tell me yours, won't you?"
I kept my mouth firmly shut.
She gave a short laugh, muttered that I was really too much, and shook her head.
"Fine. Then just one thing—one thing I'm truly curious about."
She rose from her seat and walked slowly toward me. Settling on the edge of the table in front of me, she looked down and asked a completely unexpected question.
"By any chance... are you married?"
For a moment my mind went blank; I could only stare up at her.
"Looking for a vehicle... you don't seem to be in a position with much leeway, do you?"
When I still said nothing she continued.
"There are other survivor groups around here besides mine. Yet you came to us, offered to keep trading, and even showed your face when I asked. Doesn't that already tell the story?"
She gently brushed her fingertip along my jaw.
"You don't have that much free time, do you? That's why I asked. Honestly, whether you're married or not doesn't matter to me. Just grant me one request, and I'll take only the goods you brought and hand over a clean vehicle—full tank and all."
"...What's the request?"
At my question she smiled for the first time—a strange, dangerous smile.
"Are you... any good in bed?"
Her final words froze every thought in my head.
"...What did you just say?"
I asked again, doubting my own ears.
At my reaction Sim Geum-a burst into laughter, as if nothing could be funnier.
"What, why so shocked? It's just... you're my type, that's all."
She stood, circled me slowly, and looked me over as if appraising goods.
"Think about it. Looking at the things you brought, you've got resources to spare. You're well-fed enough that you've put on some flesh, so food doesn't seem scarce. And with armor that ridiculous, you can't be short on weapons either. In this world right now, you're top-tier specs, aren't you?"
She stopped right in front of me and tapped my chest with a finger.
"I'm not asking you to be my man."
She leaned in, her hot breath brushing my ear as she whispered.
"Rather, I'll be your woman for one night. All you have to do is have a good time with me, and the next morning you drive off in a perfectly fine car. I won't ask for anything else."
She paused, then stroked my jaw once more.
"Ah! Of course, if we stay good partners and keep trading after this, that would be even better."
In her eyes pure desire and cold calculation mixed in a dangerous blend.
Faced with her proposal I could neither speak nor move; I simply sat frozen.