Ep. 11: Stealing the Five Senses (6)
"Could that person's daughter be Lee Sol?"
At my question, the smile drained from Kwon Mu-seop's face.
"Who told you about that?"
"I didn't hear it from anyone."
Kwon Mu-seop's retort was as good as a confession, and I marveled with pure, unfeigned admiration.
Truly astonishing, that I was only figuring this out now. The people at the Bureau really did know how to keep their mouths shut.
If Heo Gu-young hadn't happened to let slip that detail about the 200 million won, I never would have worked out who Lee Sol was.
Cha Si-eon and Kwon Mu-seop had handed me 200 million won out of their own pockets when I came out of the "Railroad Station." Dipping into personal funds meant a personal motive — and only one reason could explain it. Lee Seop, former squadmate to them both. And Lee Sol, whose father she'd said had already passed away. The two of them had been father and daughter.
But for the sake of Supervisor Heo Gu-young's wellbeing, I couldn't say any of that out loud.
"Then how did you know?" Kwon Mu-seop pressed, with unruffled composure.
How was I supposed to explain this without throwing Heo Gu-young under the bus? Taking comfort in the fact that the man couldn't see me, I committed to the fabrication.
"They looked alike."
"Alike?"
"I thought their smiling faces were oddly similar, and they even shared a surname — both had single-syllable given names, too. When you run into names like that, it's usually because the parents had them first and passed the habit down to the kids."
...
Kwon Mu-seop's expression turned dubious.
No! Protect Supervisor Heo Gu-young!
"Her name came up an unusual amount around the Bureau, too. Everyone else gets called 'Survivor Number such-and-such,' but Team Leader Cha, Baek Sa-ra, Jae-gyeom — all of them called her by name, 'Lee Sol.' I found that strange."
...
"So I took a shot in the dark. Am I right?"
"Haah..."
Kwon Mu-seop let out a long sigh of surrender, as if to say there was no helping it.
Nice. Supervisor Heo Gu-young is safe.
But then — what was this about? The whole thing was already out in the open, yet Kwon Mu-seop had gone quiet, his face a knot of conflicting emotions.
I studied his expression for a moment, then asked again. "The compensation, too — that's why it was so large, isn't it?"
"...Can't hide a thing from you. That's right — it worked out that way, one thing and another."
"Is there any reason you'd need to hide it?"
"It's on the restricted-topics list, for one, and some things still need sorting out."
Kwon Mu-seop murmured it with a weary smile.
I understood now exactly why Cha Si-eon and Kwon Mu-seop had pressed that 200 million won into my hands. What I still couldn't see was why Kwon Mu-seop kept trailing off, right to the very end.
I wanted the full story. I still had questions that could dig deeper, too. But one look at Kwon Mu-seop's face, and I thought better of it.
"Then just one more question."
"...Go ahead."
"Was the Otter Slaughter HQ also created because of Lee Sol?"
"Hm?"
Kwon Mu-seop blinked, as if he'd never anticipated that question in his life.
I didn't acknowledge the reaction and pressed on in complete earnest. "If they treat me like an otter because of Lee Sol, I'd actually be relieved."
"Relieved?"
"When frightening people whip themselves into a frenzy for no reason at all, that's genuinely terrifying. But if it's because of Sol, at least it makes sense."
At my earnest explanation, Kwon Mu-seop blinked a few more times. Then he finally burst into helpless laughter.
"That reason counts for quite a lot. Not all of it, mind."
His voice had grown much lighter.
Right. I still wanted to know. But I didn't want to dig it out of him at the cost of making him uncomfortable. I hadn't expected him to be this troubled by it in the first place — I'd figured he'd brush it off with a breezy aw, you got me. I couldn't say why he was like this, but hounding a superior I'd only just found worth respecting probably wasn't proper conduct either. With that thought, I took a step back.
Maybe he'd read my mind; Kwon Mu-seop laughed a few more times, soundlessly, through his breath alone. Then, in a voice gone quieter still, he murmured:
"When Sol was dragged in there, it felt like every last one of us was being punished for our sins."
Divine punishment?
"And then you appeared."
Kwon Mu-seop opened and closed his mouth as if to say more, but in the end he only shook his head. "Let's leave it at that for now."
"Yes, sir."
Exhaustion ran through Kwon Mu-seop's voice. So there was something I couldn't bring myself to ask.
She wasn't just anybody — she was the daughter of a fallen comrade. Why had they merely stood by and watched instead of rescuing her?
"Did Lee Sol get home all right?"
So I asked the easier question instead.
My respected superior simply smiled.
We spent two more hours in that same spot. Just as Kwon Mu-seop had planned, we brought down "Ants" without a hitch. What remained were No. 1 through No. 5, and No. 26 through No. 28 — eight in all. For the remaining twenty-two hours, we would have to hold out, playing tag with those "Ants."
"Understood. We'll start our circuit of the 'Stone Towers' now."
Following Yoon Woo-jeong's guidance, Chief Kwon Mu-seop felt his way to the "Stone Tower" set beside him. Then he rolled up his sleeve so that the brand on his wrist showed plainly.
"Do-woon, checking the brand is your job from here on out."
"Understood."
The brand's duration was never consistent. Which meant that for as long as the "Ants" hunted us, someone had to keep confirming whether it was still there — and that fell to the one of us who could see.
With some breathing room before Ant No. 26 arrived, we went first to the woman caught in the "Ant Silk."
"Have you reached your decision?"
"You're not even human..."
The woman's face, when we met again, was brimming over with resentment. Her voice was thick with venom too, but Kwon Mu-seop continued calmly.
"If you need more time, we will return in nine hours."
"You rotten bastard...!"
"In the meantime, please think over anything you'd like said to your family or friends. We will deliver the message."
Kwon Mu-seop turned away, and the woman broke down sobbing.
It was then that I understood. Kwon Mu-seop was, for all practical purposes, forcing that woman to accept her own death.
"The 'Ant Silk' is something the 'Ants' spit back up at regular intervals."
By the time we'd walked far enough that her sobbing no longer carried, Kwon Mu-seop, ahead of me, spoke up. "Given time, it hardens white, so it's not so bad then. But a freshly spat strand is transparent — you can barely see it at all. The Deputy Head will be backing us up, but a new strand of 'Ant Silk' could still slip past, so stay alert."
Kwon Mu-seop had been in the middle of cautioning me when Yoon Woo-jeong cut in without warning. At that ever-constant needling of hers, he smiled faintly.
"We'd be grateful if you did."
"That's..."
Somehow, Kwon Mu-seop looked put on the spot.
"The protective suit?"
"Deputy Head..."
The moment I showed curiosity, Yoon Woo-jeong took over the storytelling herself. Kwon Mu-seop looked ready to stop her, but it was hopeless.
"Who on earth?"
It sounded like a sound idea. The mucus spattered loose and became thread — but thread already lying flat on the ground had nothing left to spatter.
"So did it work?"
"Beats me."
"Ah..."
"I'm sorry — what?"
"You mean for real? Not as a prank?"
"So how did it end?"
Good grief...
That one, I had to admit, deserved the scolding...
"Someone I know?"
Please let it be Cha Si-eon.
But the way she said "that gentleman" — putting him up on something of a pedestal — didn't sound like Team Leader Cha. Then who?
Oh... oh no...
Clapping a hand over my mouth, I turned to look at Kwon Mu-seop. He was rubbing his forehead with a profoundly sheepish expression on his face.
Perhaps Chief Kwon Mu-seop was simply too great a man for the likes of me to presume to respect. Or perhaps I was the philistine, incapable of embracing both the admirable sides of the man and the cringe-worthy ones.
Looks like even his halo had burnt out — I couldn't see it anywhere.
I ended up snorting with laughter, and Chief Kwon Mu-seop smiled despite himself. Pitiful flailings, the both of us, to shake off the guilt.
Doing our best to forget the woman left abandoned to the "Ant Silk," we set off in search of the "Stone Towers."
The little mountain had well-tended trails winding along its lower slopes, easy on the legs. But we deliberately secured the "Stone Towers" on the roughest ground first, figuring we ought to suffer while we still had the strength for it. Climbing that way, we eventually came out onto some seriously steep rock face.
"The summit's right up there."
"There's something up top that looks like a big stone tower."
"That's the beacon tower. The 'Ant Nest' sits directly beneath it."
So the next generation of "Ants" would come pouring out of that beacon tower? And the core of this special zone was said to lie at the very deepest point of the "Ant Nest." Dangerous territory by any measure — best not to get too close.
We were skirting around short of the summit when it happened.
Rustle—!
I turned at the crunch of dead leaves and nearly had my heart drop clean out of my chest. An "Execution Ant" was scuttling back and forth forty meters away, head and antennae fixed on us. It plainly ached to fall on us, yet it fretted in place as though an invisible wall barred its way.
"We've got an 'Ant' on us."
"Huh. That's No. 26."
So it had come to avenge No. 25. Not that the brand let it close the distance. And from now on, we were the ones who'd be carrying that mark around everywhere? Grim. Truly grim.
Until today, every ant that came at us had ended up caught, so I'd never had the leisure to study one properly. Seen in full at last, the "Execution Ant" was bigger than a calf. With the segmented proportions unique to insects, its round head alone was nearly the size of a human torso — and the antennae and mandibles set into that head writhed in our direction. It was genuinely horrifying.
"As long as we keep the brand fresh, it can't touch us. Let's move."
At Kwon Mu-seop's urging, I tore my eyes from the "Ant." The brand was said to last fifty minutes at the very most, though in practice most faded somewhere between twenty and thirty. Which meant we had to push up the mountain trails at a fairly relentless pace.
We were about two hours in.
We were on our way to renew my brand. Even without the complication, we'd have been reaching the "Stone Tower" by the skin of our teeth — and now a variable had to pile on top.
"This won't do. It's not even the next number in line — earlier than planned, but we'd best take No. 26 right here."
But what was there to worry about? Chief Kwon Mu-seop took even the variable in hand with practiced ease.
The problem was me.
"Do-woon. You can shoot, can't you?"
Just like that, I found myself shoved onto the proving stand. No dodging it. No failing it, either. A test with the honor of every man who'd ever served in uniform riding on the result.