Moon Village Manhunt
***
JK Credit Info rooftop. Most of the truly important happenings in the company wafted subtly through the cigarette smoke. JK Credit Info was no exception.
Secretary Jeong Hye-rin was chatting amiably with her college senior, Manager Ga Kyung-pyo, on the rooftop.
“Oh really? That new hire seemed like he’d be great at the job.”
“We brought him into HR because he had the top grades, but watching him work makes me want to die of frustration.”
“Senior, you know how it is—business smarts and book smarts are totally different.”
“Different, sure, but not this different. Why’s he gotta be like that?”
Both their gazes landed simultaneously on Manager Hwang Jeong-min, who was stomping toward them with a cigarette clenched in his teeth.
PTs in front of the newbie, constantly coddled by Assistant Manager Seo, and now extra workload on top—the manager blamed it all on Min-ho.
Manager Hwang, approaching the two, stomped hard on an empty soda can on the ground and kicked it away with all his might.
“Damn it, they’re making me report to the newbie—what the hell is this?”
Manager Ga Kyung-pyo waved him over with a grin as Hwang grumbled his way closer.
“What’s got you in such a foul mood this time?”
“Don’t even ask, man. I’m losing my mind. For real.”
“Secretary Jeong’s right here, you know? It’s not just us—watch your mouth.”
Secretary Jeong, catching Hwang’s eye, gave a quiet nod to acknowledge her presence.
“Anyway, what’s going on?”
“You know our team’s newbie, right?”
“The guy who dug up gold bars like a country bumpkin from Seoul? You’d have to be a spy not to know.”
“I’d rather just be a spy at this point.”
“What’s that mean? Spill the details.”
Manager Ga handed over his soda, and Hwang downed it in one go like a thug chugging makgeolli before answering.
“Come on, does it make any sense that a slum rat’s pulling in 300 million won?”
“Whoa, 300 million this time? I like the newbie’s guts.”
“What guts? He’s a lunatic. Our assistant manager’s overlooking it to climb the ladder or something—I just had to clown around in front of him.”
Soda spilled down his chin from the aggressive gulp. Secretary Jeong covered her mouth to stifle a laugh at the comical sight, listening intently.
“The newbie’s sitting there and you’re doing the presentation?”
“Yeah, the assistant manager ordered it like it was nothing. Even for a lame-duck manager, who treats people like this anywhere in the world?”
“He’s doing it because you’re good—teaching you the ropes.”
“No way, you know I’ve got good instincts. Something’s off.”
“What’s off?”
“No proof, but my gut says he’s got connections.”
Manager Ga Kyung-pyo from HR, the first to suspect irregularities in Min-ho’s hiring process. He didn’t know the exact line, but he knew Min-ho was a parachute drop. Of course, with orders from above to keep quiet, he played it cool and continued the conversation.
“Come on, logically—if he had connections, would they send him out collecting debts?”
“That’s why it’s even weirder. The assistant manager babying him is new too—none of it adds up.”
“Nah, you’re overthinking. Look, he’s chasing headache debtors all over instead of mining gold in downtown Seoul. Who with connections would hustle this hard?”
Hwang had to nod at the undeniable fact.
“Yeah, true. And he got into our team because the assistant manager fought for his personnel rights.”
“If you’re unlucky, you end up like sliced meat smelling incense after getting knifed by a crazy boss—or shaking like Deputy Oh at the sight of a blade.”
“Kyung-pyo, you got any guesses?”
“You think I don’t know after years in HR? If there was something, word would’ve spread already, right?”
“This is getting more complicated. Let’s just smoke.”
Hwang, meeting Secretary Jeong’s eyes, pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket and offered it.
“Manager, I don’t smoke.”
“Then why’d you come up to the roof?”
“For some fresh air.”
“Fair enough—stuck indoors is the same hell either way.”
“I’ll head down first then.”
Secretary Jeong, feigning nonchalance after gathering intel, gave a light nod and left promptly. She had to report Min-ho’s story to President Kang.
She moved to the break room, grabbed a coffee, and carefully opened the president’s door.
“President, I brought coffee.”
The timing was oddly sudden, but President Kang knew her intent.
“The swallow’s brought another morsel for the magpie.”
“Yes, President. I overheard talk about employee Lee Min-ho on the rooftop.”
“Tell me everything you heard.”
Secretary Jeong reported every detail from the rooftop to President Kang. The shocking news left him doubting his own ears.
“300 million? Did you say 300 million just now?”
“Yes, President. Clearly 300 million.”
“300 million... That’s the bearing factory deal with President Hwang... You sure?”
“Should I call Assistant Manager Seo?”
“No need. Grumbling—that was Manager Hwang Jeong-min, right?”
“Yes.”
“Got it. That’s enough.”
“I’ll be going then.”
As she turned, President Kang called her back.
“Secretary Jeong.”
“Yes, President? Need anything?”
Water it just right, add some fertilizer, and the straw gets sturdier and its mouth stays shut. President Kang pulled out his wallet, handing over a thick stack of bills.
Staring at the hefty sum with wide bunny eyes, Secretary Jeong looked at him.
“What’re you waiting for? Take it.”
“President, this is too much. I got some last time—no reason for more.”
“You’ve kept your promises to me. You know the rest without me saying.”
“Yes, of course. No worries.”
“Keep it up like this.”
“Thank you.”
The stone Min-ho had thrown sent massive ripples across President Kang’s pond. His mind was pure chaos. No matter how he thought about it, securing 300 million was impossible.
How’s this kid pulling 300 million? He’s my nephew, but I can’t read him. No time to slack.
President Kang Myeong-seon quickly picked up the receiver and dialed her brother Kang Du-seong’s number.
Du-seong answered in his usual flat tone.
“What’s up this late?”
“Brother, you know Hwang Gi-cheon running the bearing factory in Seongsu-dong?”
“Father just came down from the office telling me to settle it on maturity.”
“Dad did? What’d he say?”
“What’s to say? His brothers clearly skimmed—flip them and it’s done. Why ask out of the blue?”
“Maturity? How long left? It’s been so long, I forget.”
“Exactly half a month and two days.”
From her brother’s words, Myeong-seon caught the hint and nodded with a sly smile. This debt Min-ho was handling was also a massive claim nearing maturity. Once could be coincidence, but twice made it inevitable.
Replaying Min-ho’s words and actions, President Kang Myeong-seon nodded as if scenting something.
Oh my, is our Min-ho playing a bigger game than I thought?
Unable to easily accept her nephew’s changes, Myeong-seon latched onto one possibility flashing in her mind. Truth be told, she hadn’t been able to make sense of Min-ho’s transformation. But focusing on that one unimaginable possibility changed everything 180 degrees.
If she assumed Min-ho was scheming big, it explained every event. Still just a hunch, but a thread had unraveled for Myeong-seon. She began laughing innocently, like a girl giggling at tumbling leaves.
Kang Du-seong wouldn’t welcome the sudden laughter barrage.
“Drinking in broad daylight or what?”
“Brother, looks like you won’t need to bother.”
“Quit cackling like you’ve lost it! Hang up if it’s nonsense.”
“Might drop by again later anyway. See you, brother.”
Hanging up, Myeong-seon smiled meaningfully. If Min-ho nailed this deal too, he’d prove himself the golden goose. The goose belonged to her brother, but she was the current owner.
President Kang Myeong-seon recalled her own grand design with a faint smile.
No need to gut it—if I use Min-ho right... my calculations change too.
***
Bongcheon-dong. The taxi driver yanked the side brake with a screech and pointed at the shanty town.
“See that? That’s Moon Village. Car only gets you this far—walk the rest.”
“Thanks.”
“Rumors around here are nasty, so you young folks watch yourselves.”
“Got it, sir.”
Stepping out, Min-ho looked up at his destination: Moon Village. Tiny houses crammed onto staggering heights.
He opened his notepad to confirm the address again and could only sigh. This was like searching for Kim from Seoul Station.
“Deputy, ever been to Hwang Gi-cheon’s place?”
“Poison to me too. No addresses or owner names like downtown—you gotta ask around raw.”
“Then we might not find it all day.”
“What can I do? Head midway up and ask. Let’s climb.”
To two guys unfamiliar with Moon Village, charging up blindly was like entering dense jungle without GPS. Time was critical for this collection.
Min-ho scanned around and spotted a hole-in-the-wall shop at the entrance.
“I’ll ask there and come back.”
Pushing open the old sliding door, he saw the elderly owner hunched in the corner, reading the paper through reading glasses. White hair galore.
“Sir, mind if I ask something?”
“What’re you looking for, young man?”
“Trying to get to this address—any idea roughly where?”
The old man removed his glasses, stared long at the address, then slowly eyed Min-ho’s face like appraising it.
“You look too polished—not from around here...”
“Here on business.”
“Debt collector, by chance?”
“How’d you know? Written on my face?”
The old man folded his paper in half and set it aside.
“Obvious as day. First-timers here are half debt chasers.”
“See a lot of us?”
“Most of ‘em. But give up—it’s folks who fled here to dodge rent. What money they got?”
Staring at the address again, the old man stood and pointed to a spot.
“See that bluish roof at the end?”
“Yeah.”
“Ask there again. Easier to find.”
“Thanks.”
“Treat it like hiking—tie those shoes tight. Won’t be easy.”
“Appreciate it, sir.”
Min-ho headed out and started up the narrow, steep Moon Village stairs. Not far, but the incline soaked his undershirt quick.
Deputy Oh followed doggedly, eyes on Min-ho’s feet. Exhausted, he paused to catch his breath.
“Told you—this one’s impossible.”
“Remove one ‘no’ up front, and it’s possible.”
“Change your mind, say so—I’ll handle the assistant manager.”
“Won’t happen.”
“I can’t figure your thinking. Let’s go.”
Min-ho reached the summit—the cheapest rent spot in Moon Village. The house with the blue roof the old man mentioned.
Houses built wherever there was empty dirt—no addresses.
After looking around, Min-ho asked a passing resident.
“Excuse me, sir—know where this is?”
The resident shook his head after eyeing the memo.
“This way, you’ll take all day and still miss it.”
“Even with the address?”
“Here, it’s by name, looks, kids’ count, move-in date.”
Min-ho checked the debtor’s info again.
“Moved in a few years back, middle-aged guy with a scar near his right jaw.”
“Kids?”
“One daughter.”
“That’s the guy! Wheelchair dude—straight down that alley, right turn. You’ll see.”
“Thanks.”
Following directions, they trudged the narrow alley. Arrived at a green gate with all paint peeled.
Deputy Oh, drained, collapsed gasping by the gate.
“This is it—Manager Hwang said old green gate-ish.”
“I’ll go in first.”
No bell around the gate, naturally. As Min-ho knocked lightly, the rickety front door creaked open loudly.
In the cramped yard, a man in a wheelchair puffed a cigarette. The vivid scar on his right jaw confirmed it—Hwang Gi-cheon.
Min-ho handed over his business card with a polite bow.
“Lee Min-ho from JK Credit Info.”