Amhyanghoe (1)
Seonhwa Dongdae
A car with its affiliation painted large across the hood and sides rolled to a quiet stop.
The window slid down, and a wrinkled forehead jutted out into the night. Moonlight spilled in at once, carrying Choi Yeon's question with it.
"Why'd the Chief come?"
"Then who else would?"
"Heeseok hyung."
Hmph. Dongdae Chief Kim Jaesang snorted at once. Then he needled Choi Yeon as if laying down the law.
"If Heeseok had come, you'd have been the one drivin', wouldn't you?"
"Well, I couldn't exactly make Heeseok hyung drive."
"And then, when things go south, you'd dump it all on him?"
"…"
"I can't stand seein' that kind of mess again. No way."
Kim Jaesang bobbed his head in firm agreement. The exaggerated up-and-down of it made the point impossible to miss.
An incredulous voice slipped from Choi Yeon.
"What if it gets dangerous, though?"
"I'd leave you behind and run for it."
"You never considered I might ditch you and run instead?"
"Go right ahead. Heeseok'd love that."
"…"
Snap.
Kim Jaesang turned his head and looked at Lee Chae-young.
Having neatly shut Choi Yeon up, he offered a greeting. His expression and voice were bright, almost cheerful.
"Dongdae Chief Kim Jaesang. Pleasure."
"Hello. I'm tattooist Lee Chae-young."
"I heard from Yeon that you… didn't put that tattoo on her on purpose?"
"It's true. Psyche's Breath imbues power into things made with real care and effort—"
"Just didn't know tattoos counted, huh."
"Right…"
Lee Chae-young's answer shrank into something small. She seemed embarrassed that she hadn't fully understood her own skill.
Whether he noticed her mood or not, Kim Jaesang spoke slowly.
"Happens all the time, so don't worry about it. Ah—still, when we get to City Hall they'll want an appraisal. That all right? Not that I'm suspicious of you, Chae-young-ssi. Just makin' sure."
"Of course. That's fine."
Lee Chae-young nodded right away.
Before Kim Jaesang arrived, Choi Yeon had already explained everything to her.
"Good. Then shall we head out? Yeon."
"Yes."
Choi Yeon opened the rear right door. He didn't climb in; he looked at Lee Chae-young instead.
She quickly realized why and, a little sheepish, scratched her neck before getting in.
Fair enough. When in her life had she ever been treated like a VIP?
Thud.
Choi Yeon shut the door and started toward the passenger seat.
Then he stopped and looked ahead. Two figures were walking toward them.
Out of the dark, faces he knew soon took shape.
"Haedeurim Detective Agency…?"
About three weeks back, these were the ones who'd tried to black-market monsters smuggled out of a dungeon.
The same men Choi Yeon had caught and handed over to the police now approached with cheerful greetings.
"Hey, Choi Yeon. You been well?"
"Well now? The Chief's out too?"
"Yun Min-gi, Jo Seong-cheol. You two got out quick, huh?"
"The boss posted our bail."
"That's an ugly thing to hear. Detective work payin' that well?"
Kim Jaesang, arm hooked on the window frame, narrowed his eyes.
The discontent rising with the creases on his brow sent the Haedeurim men into a flurry of awkward coughs.
Still looking at them with open dislike, Kim Jaesang asked a question. If they'd broken out, that would be one thing—but they'd paid money for a guaranteed release, so there wasn't much he could do about it.
"So? You here to block our road? You think you can handle that?"
—As long as they didn't interfere with official duties, that is.
"Whoa, that's a scary thing to say! How could we ever block Seonhwa Dongdae's path?"
"Our Haedeurim Detective Agency wants nothing more than a friendly relationship with Seonhwa Dongdae, anytime, anywhere."
"Seong-cheol's right! We just came to introduce ourselves to that young lady over there."
"Tch… And why do that introduction right in front of us? You're lookin' down on us, that's what."
"Come on, Chief. We can't exactly do it in front of City Hall, can we?"
"He's right, Chief. Don't be so cold, yeah?"
"Hmph. Guess I gotta show you what cold really looks like. Yeon."
Flash.
Choi Yeon had a dagger out in an instant.
The men, remembering the paralysis that had hit them when blades flew their way before, went wide-eyed.
Wave, wave.
They flailed their arms and shouted,
"Amhyanghoe! Amhyanghoe's on the move!"
They'd meant to hand over the information and get something for it—but the fear of going numb again made them spill it first.
Having already messed up, Yun Min-gi decided to go all in and added,
"And the Daejeon branch manager himself is handling it!"
"…"
Choi Yeon pulled the dagger back. It was the kind of intel that didn't need a demonstration of coldness after all.
Amhyanghoe.
He looked over at Kim Jaesang. The wrinkled forehead was loaded with complaint and discontent.
It made the earlier talk of detective-agency bail sound like nothing.
"…What do we do?"
"What. You scared?"
"You going to be all right?"
"What do you think? Think it'll be fine, or not?"
Shrug.
Kim Jaesang rolled his shoulders as if it were no big deal—but the lines on his forehead stayed put.
"You decide."
"You're the Chief. Why would I—"
"Bullshit. Only time you treat me like the Chief is when it's convenient, huh?"
"Ahem, ahem…"
"I've always been a field man. What's some desk jockey know about any of this?"
"Is that so? You always throw up roadblocks, so I never noticed."
"Only with you. Only with you. I don't say a peep to Heeseok."
"…"
Choi Yeon was beyond words. If you were going to make a comparison, at least pick someone comparable.
Even the mayor of Daejeon wouldn't dare pick a fight with Choi Heeseok.
Kim Jaesang pressed him.
"So? What are we doin'? Wait till Heeseok gets here?"
"…We go. Just us."
"Fine. Route?"
"You're deciding that too?"
"Told you. I'm a field man."
Since when, exactly?
Choi Yeon swallowed the urge to argue.
Between Samcheon Bridge and Yongmun Bridge, where the Yudeungcheon flowed, a man sat alone on the embankment, drinking.
Slosh—the bottle tipped, and a soft rolling sound rose from inside.
It might have been the river itself, or the clear liquor swaying in his hand.
"Khh…"
The man made a sound as if his throat burned.
The sound that had spread across the embankment came back as footsteps—men climbing the path that ran along the southward riverbank.
Fresh from a fight, maybe?
Roughly a dozen of them carried the marks of battle here and there on their clothes.
They halted.
Only the young man at the front walked up beside the drinker. His long hair looked neat and yet freely waved.
"Branch Manager."
"…"
"Branch Manager Song Jong-in…?"
"Yeah. You're a bit late, our young blood Kang I-jun. Looks like you had a rough go of it?"
"…I'm sorry. The information spread farther than we expected, so cleaning it all up took time."
"Huh? Nah, I wasn't givin' you grief."
Saying so, Song Jong-in took another mouthful of liquor.
Kang I-jun stared hard at the tilted bottle in the older man's right hand. He didn't say a word, but his disapproval of Song Jong-in's drinking was plain on his face.
Feeling awkward, Song Jong-in held the bottle out.
"Young blood want a drink too?"
"I'm fine. More importantly—Park Do-kyeong just left."
"Finally? Khh, that man really is something. Comin' all the way out here himself to lead by example…"
"…"
"Well, that's how he's stayed the top of Chungcheong for over twenty years. Makes me proud to be his junior, y'know?"
When he finished, the bottle tipped again with a soft slosh.
Khh—the same burned sound left Song Jong-in's mouth as before.
This time, though, he squeezed his eyes shut and steadied his breath as if it weren't his throat that hurt, but something deeper.
Slick.
He roughly wiped the liquor running down his patchy-bearded jaw with the back of his hand.
"…So. We chase the chicken and end up starin' at the roof like a dog, that it?"
"No. According to the recon team, Park Do-kyeong left with a face full of pure disappointment."
"Huh? You mean that tattooist girl didn't join Pakator?"
"Looks that way."
"Why? He'd have spoiled her rotten and taken perfect care of her."
"I'm sorry. That much I don't…"
"Hey, hey. I was just askin'."
Song Jong-in waved the hand holding the bottle. The liquor inside rolled with every motion.
"You know what kind of man he is. If you'd gotten close enough to hear his voice, he'd have caught you for sure."
"…"
"…What, he did catch you?"
"We weren't the ones spotted. Some detective-agency types—"
"Hold on. You said Park Do-kyeong left. He caught someone and just walked away?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Pardon?"
"Ah, what's that man schemin' this time…"
Song Jong-in scratched roughly at his beard.
Once, twice—on the third pass his fingers stopped.
"Eh, the people upstairs can worry about that."
"…"
"So now we go grab the tattooist girl, that it?"
"Branch Manager, it's a scout. Not a kidnapping."
"Right, a scout."
"Mm. About that…"
Kang I-jun let the sentence trail off.
It had the look of a problem, so Song Jong-in simply waited.
Once Kang I-jun had his words in order, he spoke.
"Didn't I just say some detective-agency types got spotted?"
"You did."
"Because of that, a Seonhwa Dongdae hunter hasn't left—he's standing by. Looks like they mean to take her to City Hall."
"Ah. Secure her safety first, then figure the rest out—that kind of thinkin', huh?"
Song Jong-in shook his head slowly.
He glanced at the bottle in his right hand.
To drink or not—his voice came out mixed with a sigh, as if he were weighing it.
"Ha, that senior Choi Heeseok really is something else… With skills like his, why's he still a Dongdae hunter? He should've stayed in Seoul…"
"Uh—it's not Choi Heeseok."
"Huh? You said Seonhwa Dongdae."
"There's one more hunter in Seonhwa-dong. A C-class named Choi Yeon."
"That so?"
"Here. This is what he looks like."
Kang I-jun pulled a smartphone from his coat and held it out. The screen held dozens of photos of Choi Yeon.
Passing the phone over, Kang I-jun went on.
"Age twenty-eight."
"Oh. Same generation as our young blood."
"…Main weapons are throwing daggers coated in paralytic poison and a short blade linked by wire. Specialty is stealth work on par with a stealth skill, they say."
"Hmm. That so…"
Song Jong-in's reply stretched out long at the end.
Tap, tap.
As if something felt off, he flipped through more photos, bringing the screen close to his eyes and then holding it far away.
After he'd done that several times, Kang I-jun couldn't hold back and asked,
"What is it?"
"Nothin'. Just feels weird."
"What does?"
Kang I-jun looked at the screen.
When he'd checked earlier, nothing had struck him as odd.
Tap.
A calloused finger pressed down on Choi Yeon's face in the photo.
Especially—
"This guy. Why's he got his eyes closed in every single shot?"
—the eyes.
"…He has naturally squinty eyes."
"Squinty eyes?"
"Yes."
"…Huh! That's somethin'. Can he even see straight like that?"
"Branch Manager."
Kang I-jun called Song Jong-in's name, crisp and clear. The meaning was obvious: cut the empty talk and get back to the point.
The middle-aged man caught the young one's wish at once.
"Huh? Ah. Look at me. Right—so this guy's the only one escortin' the girl?"
"The Seonhwa Dongdae Chief did show up. Mm—he's been retired from the field a long time, so he shouldn't be much of a problem."
"That man came himself?"
"Yes."
"Tch… That feels off…"
"…What now?"
Kang I-jun narrowed his eyes as he asked. He was half-expecting more nonsense.
His worry was wasted this time; the answer that came back actually made sense.
"The Dongdae Chief moved, but that stickler Choi Heeseok didn't come along?"
"Ah."
"Is it just me, or is that weird? Huh?"
"…"
It was a fair point.
When the Chief drove out, Choi Heeseok could easily have ridden along—but he hadn't.
Because it was Friday and he'd gone home early?
…That Choi Heeseok?
"A trap… maybe?"
"There's a chance."
"Then should we pull back?"
"I'd love to… but if it turns out it wasn't a trap, the other regional branch managers'll raise hell, won't they?"
"Mm. Well…"
Even as empty comfort, Kang I-jun couldn't bring himself to say they wouldn't. He left the sentence unfinished.
That was answer enough; Song Jong-in nodded.
"So we've got no choice but to take a swing at it. Let's see… Kang I-jun."
Slick.
Song Jong-in raised both arms.
The bottle in his right hand pointed toward Samcheon Bridge; his left hand pointed toward Yongmun Bridge.
"To reach City Hall, they've gotta cross a bridge. Which bridge you think Seonhwa Dongdae's gonna take?"
"…We'll take Samcheon Bridge."
Choi Yeon climbed into the passenger seat.
Arms folded, Kim Jaesang asked,
"Why?"
"It's closer, for one. The northern Hanbat Bridge or the southern Suchim Bridge would mean going around, and the traffic's way heavier."
"Yongmun Bridge is close too, ain't it? Less traffic than those other two."
"It cuts straight through downtown. If we take Samcheon Bridge and run Daejeoncheonsaro, we can cut down civilian casualties. Once we're across, it's a straight shot to City Hall."
"Mm, mm. Fair point."
Kim Jaesang's head bobbed up and down. A smile bloomed on his face as if the answer pleased him.
"Problem is, the Amhyanghoe bastards'll think the exact same thing."
"They will. As for that…"
"As for that?"
"We'll figure it out when we get there."
"…"
Kim Jaesang's face crumpled hard.
Only seconds ago a full smile had been flowering there; now not a trace of it remained.
Choi Yeon didn't care either way.
How was he supposed to map out a whole plan when he didn't know how things would go? You decided on the fly, reading the situation as it came.