The Grim Reaper
Chairman Wang Gil-nam was talking to Lee Myeong-hee, a smirk playing across his face.
Lee Myeong-hee had borrowed so much money from the nouveau riche chairman that she could no longer push back against a word he said. Still, she was itching to get a word in — her lips practically twitching with the urge.
You stupid old bastard. Keep this up and some other guy is going to snatch her right out from under you. He'll put a ring through her nose before you even know it. She wanted to throw that in his face. But there was nothing to gain from poking Wang Gil-nam's temper, so she kept her mouth clamped shut.
"Ah... the finish line is right in front of me."
Yoo Kang-soo muttered it to himself, a faint smile on his face. He'd ordered an extra-large sundae gukbap — a hearty bowl of blood-sausage soup with rice — and a bottle of soju to go with it.
Just two more cases to close, and he could head back home. He'd spoken with the managing director at headquarters during the day, and the man had gone so far as to tell him to leave those two cases alone and come back immediately.
Kang-soo had been cleaning up the dirty insurance-fraud cases around this region far more thoroughly than anyone had expected. Headquarters was giving him a standing ovation for the way he charged around like a battering ram, steamrolling through case after case and racking up results.
The managing director had said that even if he stopped here this quarter, they'd easily pay him more than double his target compensation. But Kang-soo had told him he wanted to finish strong — wrap up the remaining two cases cleanly, and then come home. Once those two were done, he'd go back and rest properly for about two weeks, treating it like a real vacation.
The soju went down sweet. But he couldn't manage more than a single bottle. He'd originally planned on just half a bottle as a drink with his meal, but today the sundae gukbap seemed packed with an unusually generous helping of pork head meat, and he ended up draining the whole thing.
This was his first time at this particular sundae gukbap place. He'd wanted to try the broth elsewhere, so he'd deliberately chosen a restaurant he'd never set foot in. He'd already hit every gukbap shop around his studio apartment, so today he'd come to a place a little farther out — somewhere he'd never been.
Walking back to the studio was a bit of a stretch, but taking a taxi felt awkward too. In a small provincial city, cabs weren't exactly plentiful, and calling one wasn't convenient either. So, figuring a leisurely thirty-minute walk would get him there, Kang-soo started off at an easy pace.
He hummed an outdated pop song he'd loved in his younger days.
You said you really loved me...
That you couldn't live without me...
I believed you like the sky itself...
Because this was a small provincial city, not the capital region, the streets emptied out once the sun went down.
Kang-soo felt a presence behind him and glanced back. Nothing there. But he had definitely felt something. Thinking it might be the alcohol, he picked up his pace a little.
Ever since that lynching incident with the young thugs, Kang-soo had honestly been avoiding going out at night whenever he could. It wasn't fear. He wouldn't flinch if a whole truckload of punks like that showed up. It was the hassle. If he got tangled up in some messy assault case and had to pay even a thousand-dollar fine, he couldn't think of anything more annoying — or more wasteful. So as a rule, he had no interest in getting mixed up in dirty business.
He walked a bit faster and cut onto a wider main road. But a strong premonition was settling in — the presence he'd felt hadn't been his imagination.
The moment he turned the corner of an alley, a chill ran through him, and someone came charging from behind. Instinctively, Kang-soo flung the bag slung over his shoulder and blocked the attack.
A man with a cold expression, gripping a short knife, shifted from behind him to the front in a flash, and suddenly they were face to face.
"Who are you?"
The man spoke with a blank face. He was wearing a black mask. His voice was hoarse — not a clear voice at all, but a thoroughly raspy one, like metal being ground down.
Kang-soo looked at his leather bag. The outer surface had been slashed open by the knife. If he'd been even a fraction slower, it would have been a disaster.
"Who sent you?"
"Who sends a grim reaper to do anything? You arrogant bastard. Just stay still. I'm not going to kill you."
The voice was pitched very low, as if he were chewing iron filings as he spoke. The man wasn't large, but he had a fast, compact, solid build — a man who somehow looked like he had no openings at all.
Kang-soo knew physiques like that. The type born with fast motor skills, built for speed. He picked up the leather bag and scanned his surroundings. First he activated the action cam attached to the bag, then looked for somewhere to run. But the place was far too deserted.
"Let's not do this. Put the knife down. You're going to get badly hurt. One of us could spend the rest of his life regretting this."
Kang-soo spoke as if trying to reason with a man who looked considerably younger than himself.
"I'll just take one of your legs. Accept it. It's your karma."
The way he spoke was a little strange. It didn't sound like a regional dialect, exactly — the intonation was slightly off — but it wasn't slurred speech either.
Kang-soo set the bag down, pulled a telescopic baton from inside it, and snapped it open.
"You picked the wrong guy today."
He stood facing the man with the baton in hand. But his opponent didn't even bother with a probing exchange — he charged straight at Kang-soo.
The speed was truly like lightning. It looked like he was wildly slashing the knife around, but that wasn't it. This was blade work that only someone who had used a knife extensively could pull off. Kang-soo felt like this was the first time he'd ever faced an opponent like this.
He swung the baton, fighting back, but age, it seemed, could not be cheated. He'd fall back, try to put some distance between them, then block the knife again — and the cycle kept repeating. It felt like the man was reading every one of Kang-soo's movements and coming right after him.
"I'm calling the cops."
Kang-soo said it as he pulled out his phone — but in that instant a knife came in and tore his pants. He dropped the phone. He had the baton in one hand and couldn't let go of it, so he had no choice but to let the phone fall to the ground.
Whether the blade had reached the flesh of his leg through the torn fabric, a sharp sting surged through him. Kang-soo's vision went dark.
Until now Kang-soo had been focusing almost entirely on defense rather than attack. The moment the words high school son came out of the man's mouth, something in him snapped.
"Who the hell are you?"
Kang-soo said it with a look of utter shock. But in that instant, the opponent almost collapsed forward, rolled once across the ground, executed a cat-like breakfall, then quickly started slashing at Kang-soo's thigh.
At that bone-chilling sensation of the blade grazing his thigh, Kang-soo yanked his foot back. But the man immediately closed the distance, pressing his body against Kang-soo's, and started sending the knife toward his upper body. When Kang-soo dodged and defended better than expected, the opponent raised the intensity of his attacks, going after Kang-soo's torso outright.
At this rate, I'm really going to die.
As he pulled back, a sharp pain exploded in his wrist. The man had kicked the wrist holding the baton. It wasn't just that he was good with a knife. This was a man with incredibly fast feet.
Kang-soo had only had one bottle of soju, but cold sweat was pouring over his entire body. He felt boxed in on all sides, with no way out. He couldn't even pick up the baton that had fallen to the ground. The opponent's knife would come in for certain.
The man suddenly shouted and came in, slashing toward Kang-soo's throat.
The killing strike of Hapkido — Salsu — rose in Kang-soo's mind, instinctively, without him even realizing it.