How Strange It Was
Kim Jong-gil, the head of the Krav Maga Association, had once served as a master sergeant in the 707th Special Mission Group.
After leaving the military, he had introduced Krav Maga, the Israeli close-quarters combat system, to Korea for the first time, then independently developed a Korean-style Krav Maga of his own and spread it through the military, the police, and civilian training. In every sense, he was a true expert in knife-fighting techniques.
At first, he had taken the session lightly.
After all, no matter how good a physical-response training program was, a single lecture was never enough to produce any dramatic change.
Twenty-five? For a detective, he’s really young.
Wasn’t he twenty-four when he enlisted in the Special Forces?
Kim Jong-gil found Song Tan, the youngest detective singled out to demonstrate, almost cute.
Hm. His stance is pretty decent?
For a beginner, the posture wasn’t bad.
Still, if he attacked in earnest, Kim Jong-gil was sure he’d go down within three moves at most.
The first strike came without warning.
It was a thrust aimed at the throat.
The distance had clearly been right, but the blow caught nothing at all.
What?
His breathing stumbled for a beat.
Kim Jong-gil quickened his pace.
Knees, groin, shoulders, abdomen.
A continuous series of attacks that faithfully embodied the basic creed of Krav Maga.
Unless someone was wrapped head to toe in stab-resistant gear, those were blows you couldn’t just block.
And yet—
He’s still not getting caught?
Only the hem of Song Tan’s clothes was being grazed, barely, and never the flesh beneath.
He wasn’t even blocking or parrying.
He simply let the attacks flow past him and slip off the line, cleanly, naturally, amid the chaos.
Kim Jong-gil stared at the youngest detective’s eyes before he could stop himself.
He’s reading my movements completely.
That wasn’t possible through sharp reflexes alone.
It was the kind of movement only possible if you had fully deciphered an opponent’s muscle shifts and intent.
Cold sweat ran down his back.
Grinding his teeth, Kim Jong-gil pushed his speed to the limit.
A tempo he had never even seen in elite Special Forces training.
It was pure combat mode, nothing else.
Then the youngest detective, who had vanished from his field of vision, suddenly lunged in.
Flustered, Kim Jong-gil tried to retreat.
“Huh?”
His center of gravity broke, and his balance crumbled.
He reflexively tried to break his fall, but by then Song Tan had already seized his wrist.
Thud!
By the time he came to his senses, he was already lying on the mat with his arm twisted behind him.
A flawless restraint, impossible to deny in even the smallest way.
“.........”
Silence washed through the gym.
Song Tan released the wrist he had been holding and bowed politely toward the instructor.
“Thank you for your consideration. I learned a great deal.”
A small murmur spread through the room.
“What? The instructor was going easy on him?”
“For something like that, didn’t he seem completely serious?”
“Even if he did go easy, that guy’s incredible. He didn’t get hit once by that monster of an instructor.”
“And why is his arrest technique so clean? Was he on the national judo team or something?”
Kim Jong-gil rose to his feet and stared at Song Tan with a dazed expression.
“Have you perhaps studied jujutsu? Or maybe judo or hapkido?”
“No, I haven’t learned anything separately.”
“Then maybe the military—”
“I completed my service as a full sergeant in the 6th Division.”
“Ah... I see.”
Kim Jong-gil looked at Song Tan with eyes full of confusion.
Not a single breath out of place.
Not a hint of agitation in those calm eyes.
He couldn’t believe it.
He’d been taken down without landing a single proper attack.
Even if his discharge had been long ago, was something like this really possible?
“You said your name was Song Tan, Senior Constable?”
“Yes.”
“Your athletic sense is remarkable. This is the first time I’ve seen a trainee evade every one of my attacks and then turn the tables.”
“I was simply lucky.”
“Lucky, huh... Well, I doubt even an active-duty Special Forces soldier could have handled it the way you just did. No matter how lucky they were.”
“..........”
When Song Tan scratched his head with an embarrassed expression, the instructor sensibly chose not to press further.
“Everyone, thank you for your hard work in today’s training. I believe this short session, which may not have seemed like much, could one day save your lives. Remember this: if you can run, run; if you can avoid trouble, avoid it without hesitation. You only get one life. That is all.”
Clap, clap, clap—
At the instructor’s declaration that the grueling training was over, the detectives could not hide their relief and applauded.
The instructor approached Song Tan and extended a hand first.
“Senior Constable Song Tan. I’ll remember your name. I suspect I’ll be seeing you again, Constable Song.”
“Thank you, Instructor.”
Kim Jong-gil, gathering his gear in a fluster, left first, and one of the detectives suggested to the others around him, “If anyone doesn’t have anything going on after this, how about a light beer?”
Those who had work to do asked to be excused and departed, while about five stayed behind.
“Senior Constable Song, you’re coming too, right?”
After a brief moment of thought, Song Tan nodded.
It wasn’t his shift to be on duty today.
“Yes, I’ll go.”
“Haha, good call. We’re all the kind of people who’ll end up crossing paths anyway, so it’s best to get acquainted early.”
And so Song Tan, by complete accident, ended up joining a team dinner with detectives from another unit.
***
At a barbecue place in Jangan District, Suwon.
“Honestly, do gangs even still look like gangs these days? They’re all just thugs now, aren’t they?”
A detective from Anyang Police Station, his face flushed red, poured out his grievances with great passion.
He was a veteran who had spent more than fifteen years handling nothing but gang investigations.
“Still, if you only handle gangs, wouldn’t that mean you don’t have to worry too much about performance pressure?” someone asked.
The Anyang detective shook his head.
“That’s all old news too. These days, we’re starving for results. It’s probably the same everywhere, but can you honestly point to many places still doing proper organized-crime investigations? I’m willing to bet there are almost none left.”
Several detectives nodded in agreement.
“The current legal system can’t keep up with how the gangs have changed. These days, when was the last time you heard of a gang openly brawling as a group?”
“Almost never. You still get small fry throwing punches at each other, but that’s about it.”
“The higher-ups keep bragging that crime’s gone down because public safety has improved and gangs have decreased, but doesn’t everybody on the front lines know that’s complete bullshit? They just look less visible because they’re getting around the law more intelligently. Damn, it’s so damn frustrating I can’t even stand it.”
Apparently he’d been holding it in for a long time, because the Anyang detective knocked back soju and beer mixed together in one gulp.
“Back in the day, gangsters used to extort shop owners and threaten people, so they’d get nailed right away under the Violence Punishment Act. But do young gangsters even touch that sort of thing now? They only mess with private sports betting, money laundering, and drug distribution, right? Which means you can’t build a case under the Violence Punishment Act anymore; you have to handle each offense separately. So the results don’t come, and all the hard work piles up. Ugh! Anyway, gang investigations these days are fucking boring.”
Once the Anyang detective opened the floodgates, the others from different units began quietly sharing their own complaints.
That was when someone at the far end of the table spoke to Song Tan, who had been doing little more than picking at the meat.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Detective Inspector Lee Jun-hyeok from Suwon Yeongtong Police Station.”
A tall, sharp-looking man extended his hand to Song Tan.
“Nice to meet you, sir. I’m Song Tan from Annam Police Station.”
“Heh, I know. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Lee Joo-seok’s classmate.”
“Oh? I’ve heard that before. Please, speak comfortably.”
“Haha, can I do that then?”
Despite his cool-looking face, Lee Jun-hyeok had a boisterous, easygoing nature.
He poured Song Tan a drink and said, “It must be hard dealing with that crazy bastard Lee Joo-seok, right?”
“Not at all. I’m learning a lot from him.”
“Honestly, I’ve been really curious about you.”
“About me?”
“Your résumé’s pretty flashy. Sure, graduating top of the class at the Central Police Academy is impressive enough, but then you subdue a knife-wielding maniac while still a trainee, catch a wanted criminal on your very first day as a probationary officer, and the moment your probation ends you get the fastest possible special promotion and are assigned to the Violent Crimes Team. Not exactly a career that leaves people unconvinced, is it?”
The other detectives who had been eavesdropping on him could not hide their surprise.
“Holy crap. The trainee who took down the knife attacker at Chungju Station was Senior Constable Song?”
“Wow! That makes a lot more sense now. So that’s how he was dodging the blade so cleanly.”
“Did you do some special training or something? I’m a detective too, but when I’m actually standing across from someone holding a knife, my body never moves the way I want it to.”
With everyone’s attention suddenly on him, Song Tan scratched his head and said offhandedly, “The instructor really was going easy on me. He gave me a visual signal for where the attack was coming from in advance.”
“Really? I had no idea.”
“No wonder. He was dodging so precisely, it was like watching a stuntman hit his marks.”
“Either way, our youngest detective pulled that off in one go, and that’s incredible enough. Come on, have a drink.”
Because they were all in the same weary boat, the mood remained warm and easy.
As the drinks began to loosen everyone up, Lee Jun-hyeok studied Song Tan’s face with obvious fascination.
“Really, it’s strange.”
“Pardon?”
“I hate to say it, but you don’t exactly look like the type with a lot of edge. So how is it that you’ve managed to stick it out under Lee Joo-seok? He and I were in the same class, but he’s genuinely out of his mind. I’ll grant his skill, sure.”
Lee Jun-hyeok laughed to himself, then looked Song Tan over again.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that bastard praise someone else out loud. And not just anyone—his own junior partner, at that. I was so shocked I dropped the coffee I was holding while I was on the phone.”
“I see.”
“You know exactly what kind of temper that bastard has, don’t you? No wonder even his classmates avoid him. I’m basically the only one who can put up with him enough to answer him at all.”
It was nearly insulting enough to count as outright abuse, and yet it only made their closeness seem more obvious.
After a while, Lee Jun-hyeok alternated between cursing Lee Joo-seok and praising Song Tan until, checking his surroundings, he lowered his voice and asked, “So, let me ask you this—are you interested in the Violent Crimes Division too?”
“I am interested, of course, but... can just anyone go there?”
“Only the best of the best. That’s why I’m telling you to get your foot in the door early.”
Lee Jun-hyeok’s face grew serious.
“It’s too soon right now. Just rack up solid results for another year or two. I’ll get there first and do what I can so I can call you over once I’ve settled in.”
“In a place like that, wouldn’t it make more sense for Senior Officer Lee Joo-seok to go instead of me?”
Lee Jun-hyeok shook his head vehemently.
“He’s done for. He’s caused too many incidents, so the higher-ups have got him marked.”
It was an undeniable fact, so Song Tan remained silent.
“And this—this was your senior officer asking me personally.”
Song Tan’s chopsticks, which had been reaching for a piece of meat, stopped in midair.
“He said he couldn’t just let someone like you rot away at a local police station? Ha. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard that bastard ask me for a favor. Because of him, I dropped my coffee again.”
Song Tan was dumbfounded. He had never imagined that his stone-faced superior would do something like that behind the scenes.
“That’s... something I should be grateful for, isn’t it...”
“On the surface, that bastard might be rude and sharp-tongued, but once he takes a liking to someone, he’ll pull out his own liver and gallbladder for them if he has to. That just means he really likes you.”
Lee Jun-hyeok refilled Song Tan’s glass as the younger man fell into thought.
“So from here on out, work even harder. That way, if I drag you over, nobody can complain.”
“I will.”
“Good. Unlike that crazy Lee Joo-seok, you’re a decent kid. Here—let’s drink.”
Clink.
With that toast, the short dinner ended.
***
On the way home, Song Tan leaned against the bus window and looked down at his phone as he sent a text to someone.
The corners of Song Tan’s mouth lifted slightly.
He thought the reply was exactly like him.
In his past life, it had been normal to fight alone.
That was why, only in this life, had he learned for the first time how much strength it gave him to have someone beside him who would watch his back.
“I should buy some jelly and bring it to him tomorrow.”
That Lee Joo-seok, the very picture of a tough, macho man, had a secret weakness for bear-shaped jelly. And that was a secret known only to Song Tan.
***
A few days later, the head of the Criminal Investigation Division suddenly summoned every detective from the Violent Crimes Team.
The detectives who answered the call gathered with puzzled expressions and lined up along the conference room wall.
Click.
The division chief closed the door and looked at the team leaders.
“Everyone here?”
“Yes, sir. All present.”
After a brief headcount, the chief picked up the file he had placed on the desk.
“This came down from the provincial office just now. Listen carefully.”
After that, only the quiet rustle of paper turning filled the room.
“At dawn two days ago, a murder occurred in Jangan-dong, Pyeongtaek, and the autopsy results came in today. The analysis says the method is identical to the serial homeless murders that broke out in northern Gyeonggi Province three months ago.”
At some point, the conference room had gone silent as death.
The red-marked points on the map displayed on the large screen came into clear view.
“According to the profiler, there’s a high likelihood the suspect has shifted his operating area from northern Gyeonggi to the south. The profiler’s predicted next crime zones are Anyang and Gunpo. Finally, Annam.”
Someone at the back of the room drew in a low breath.
“The Violent Crime Division of the Northern Gyeonggi Provincial Police Agency has requested cooperation, and the commissioner has issued a special directive: jurisdiction doesn’t matter. All detectives in the field in those areas are to put every effort into catching this serial killer.”
The chief’s voice dropped a notch.
“And the detective who puts handcuffs on the culprit will be immediately considered for special promotion.”
At that one sentence, the detective who had been leaning back in his chair straightened up, and those with their arms crossed lowered them at once.