Seeds of Conflict. (2)
May 25, 2020.
8:10 p.m., United States.
A case of excessive police force led to the death of a Black suspect, George Paul.
At the time, police had forced the unarmed George Paul facedown on the ground and pinned him there with a knee on his neck.
Writhing in the agony of suffocation, Paul kept repeating the same words over and over.
“Don’t kill me.”
“I can’t breathe.”
Even after Paul lost consciousness, the police kept pressing down on his neck for another two minutes and fifty-three seconds. By the time the ambulance arrived, he was already dead.
The so-called George Paul incident.
In the wake of it, Black communities across the country launched sweeping protests, along with riots marked by looting and arson.
The police answered with a hardline crackdown, and the situation spiraled completely out of control.
Something similar had happened in Korea as well.
The difference from the George Paul case was that the group confronting the police wasn’t Black people.
It was firefighters.
It all began with an accident.
Just after midnight, someone called the 119 emergency center.
A firefighter dispatched in response arrived at a club in Gangnam.
A woman was lying on the floor, gasping for breath.
“Ma’am. Stay with me.”
“Haa. Hah!”
The firefighter immediately began CPR.
It was a moment where one person’s life hung in the balance.
Nearby, a group of men were snickering as they filmed the scene on their phones.
“Stop filming. Move back, you’re interfering.”
Even when another firefighter tried to restrain them, the men paid no attention.
“Why? It’s funny!”
“I’m warning you. Step back.”
“A warning? Pfft. What bullshit.”
One of the men swung a beer bottle into the back of the firefighter’s head.
The club exploded into chaos in an instant.
In the end, the firefighter who was struck was rushed to the hospital.
An innocent firefighter took the damage because of a drunk’s rampage.
And the woman who lost her emergency care golden hour collapsed and died in the end.
The media made a racket for a while, but after a few weeks, things quieted down.
That was supposed to be the end of it.
No, it only looked like the end.
Slowly, the dark underside that had been buried began to surface.
As it turned out, there had been not only firefighters at the scene, but police officers dispatched alongside them.
The police stood by and did nothing while the drunk attacked the firefighter.
And as it turned out, the drunk was...
a high-ranking member of a notorious villain organization in the Gangnam area.
Because the police had been taking bribes from the villain organization, they had deliberately turned a blind eye to the incident.
In a way, it was all painfully ordinary.
After the Gates opened, the police became more corrupt by the day.
And since monster incidents were happening everywhere, there was never any shortage of crimes and accidents to bury them.
It looked like just another scandal that would blow over.
But this time, it didn’t.
The fire department formally demanded an apology, pointing out the grave seriousness of the police corruption.
How did the police respond?
They didn’t even pretend to listen.
Because the moment they apologized...
it would be the same as admitting the police were corrupt.
As time passed, the conflict deepened, and the firefighters’ anger spread like wildfire.
In response, the fire department released a statement.
- We are firefighters who devoted our lives to the safety of the people.
- We demand reform within the police.
- We endured our impoverished reality with the pride of being firefighters.
- We demand the punishment of the corrupt police who trample that pride.
Even so, the National Police Agency didn’t even bother to snort.
Instead, they labeled the firefighters’ protest illegal and forcibly dispersed them.
At last, something unprecedented in world history happened.
Police vs. firefighters.
Two groups gathered in Gwanghwamun Square and started brawling with each other.
In one sense, it was almost laughable.
Public servants who were supposed to protect the people beating the hell out of each other like gangsters.
It sounded like an episode ripped straight out of a comic book.
It was hard to believe this had actually happened in real life.
And yet, it had.
Later, this event would be called the fight between police and firefighters, the Police-Fire War.
Now then, let’s ask the question.
Was it really necessary for me to get involved?
Looking back through history, how many ideological clashes had humanity already seen in its tangled affairs?
Purple Devil wore a purple mask, and all I had to do was eliminate monsters, punish villains, and save civilians, didn’t I?
The conclusion I reached was...
I had to step in.
I nodded at once.
I couldn’t just sit and watch.
Who won the Police-Fire War?
The result was a crushing victory for the police.
At first, the firefighters had the upper hand, but the tide gradually turned.
It was because the police had borrowed the power of another faction.
There was no official announcement, but...
The force that sided with the police was believed to be villains.
The police and villains had joined hands and become one and the same.
There wasn’t a better joke than that.
The defeated firefighters submitted to the police and surrendered.
After that, the humiliation kept coming.
Police mocked them on the street.
They even deliberately blocked fire trucks that were rushing out to extinguish fires.
The police grew even more arrogant and raced headlong toward the bottomless pit of corruption.
At this point, one had to wonder:
What had the Hunters been doing all this time?
Nothing at all.
Hunters who belonged to guilds were a group driven by profit.
Even if they joined the Police-Fire War, there was nothing to gain.
They’d only end up jumping into a fire that had nothing to do with them and getting burned for it.
So they simply pretended not to see.
As always, Hunters entered dungeons and exterminated monsters.
In truth, the real victims of the Police-Fire War were someone else entirely.
Who, exactly?
The woman who died because she didn’t receive emergency care in time? The firefighter who was wronged?
It was the citizens.
Because of the Police-Fire War, public power temporarily went vacant.
During that time, criminals ran wild and looted to their hearts’ content.
They broke into homes and stole valuables, robbed convenience stores, and arsonists set fires whenever they pleased.
Assault, rape, and murder didn’t even need to be mentioned.
South Korea had literally turned into a lawless zone.
At that point, it would almost have been easier to hunt monsters.
One year after the Police-Fire War.
The Seoul District Prosecutors’ Office released an investigative white paper on the incident.
According to the report, the details were as follows:
2,400 related protests.
Approximately one million participants.
760 police companies mobilized.
680,000 officers deployed.
More than 500 police officers injured.
177 buses consumed.
The damage caused by it all was beyond imagination.
Direct losses totaled 1.057 trillion won.
Indirectly, the figure reached...
2.7 trillion won.
It was enough to make your jaw drop.
A small conflict that erupted in a Gangnam club had somehow inflicted economic damage capable of shaking all of South Korea.
My long train of thought was nearing its end.
Could I really stop the Police-Fire War?
The signal flare had already been fired.
The Gangnam club incident had happened.
The fire department and the police were still in a cold war.
Living a second life made one thing painfully clear.
It wasn’t easy to overturn a fate that had already been set.
Still.
If I had the will and put in the effort...
I might be able to fight fate itself.
I put on the purple suit in the dark.
Over it, I wore a hoodie and track pants.
Inside my pocket, I folded up my purple mask and tucked it away.
Finally, I pulled on a padded jacket and pressed a black cap low over my face.
I decided where I needed to go.
The starting point of the Police-Fire War.
I headed there.
* * *
It was the moment Friday night tipped over into early Saturday morning.
The club entrance was packed wall to wall with people.
I raised my head and looked at the glittering neon sign.
Red Moon
A huge blood-red full moon seemed splashed across the sign as if it had been soaked in blood.
So this is it.
The best club in Gangnam.
It was the place where a firefighter had recently been beaten by villains.
As I moved toward the entrance, a burly guard blocked my way.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I came to go to the club.
Was there some other reason?
Truthfully, this was my first time in a club.
In my past life, I’d almost never enjoyed drinking and dancing.
Once in a while, I’d go to a karaoke room with the workers from the factory.
A club really is unfamiliar territory.
The guard looked me up and down.
“Did you make a reservation?”
I shook my head.
“Do you know someone inside?”
Again, I shook my head.
The guard frowned.
Then he jerked his chin toward the long line stretched out beside the entrance.
“Get in line.”
His tone had suddenly gone casual.
Looking at the crowd lined up for blocks, I could tell an hour or two wouldn’t be enough.
Even in the cold weather, the women were wearing short skirts and shivering.
As I stood there, the guard puffed out his chest and glared at me.
“What are you standing there for? I said get in line.”
Then, with obvious contempt, he clicked his tongue.
“Hey. Just go home. Even if you wait in line, they won’t let you in.”
“Why not?”
“Why? Who wears track pants to Red Moon? You’re just getting bounced at the door.”
“Bounced?”
“Bounced at the entrance, that’s what!”
The guard shouted at the top of his lungs.
I’d come because I’d heard it was a place to dance, so I’d dressed comfortably, but apparently there was a dress code after all.
Only then did I notice the men in their twenties and thirties who had dressed to the nines.
Their hair was styled with dramatic part lines, and they wore shirts with thin coats over them.
Don’t they feel cold?
Still, when in Rome, do as the Romans do.
But going all the way back home was...
“What a pain.”
As I muttered to myself, the guard’s face hardened.
“What are you doing? Are you going to leave or not?”
Then he grabbed me by the collar.
He was probably planning to drag me out, but I didn’t budge an inch.
“...Huh?”
When you work with mana long enough, your center of gravity naturally drops into your lower body.
The more firmly that center of gravity settled, the more stable you became, so it was not easy to topple me.
“You bastard. You’re resisting? You want to make this a thing?”
The guard radioed someone.
“Situation on site. Everybody get out here.”
In an instant, ten guards rushed out of the entrance.
The people lined up all turned their eyes toward me.
The guard shoved his swollen face close and growled.
“Looks like you’ve got some muscle. You wanna leave quietly, or do you wanna get dragged into that alley over there and beaten senseless first?”
After becoming an Awakened, and after gaining the Purchase talent...
The stronger I got, the more often this kind of situation made me feel uneasy.
Not because they were frightening.
I was afraid I might accidentally tap them and kill them.
One of the guards recognized me.
“Huh? I think I’ve seen that guy somewhere.”
“Who is he?”
“Dunno... Isn’t he some famous Hunter?”
“No way. Why would someone like that come here without a reservation?”
“Fair point.”
After making a name for myself as the savior of Haeundae, I was no longer someone who could go around running wild.
“Hm.”
I fell into thought.
Isn’t there another way?
Something more elegant than just bulldozing my way through.
For example...
Yes. That would work.
Just as I was about to reach into my pocket...
“What’s going on?”
A woman appeared at the club entrance.
She wore a red dress with one side of the hem torn along the thigh, and her hair had been swept up high in an elegant style.
The guards quickly bowed to her.
“Ah, Director Bin.”
“Welcome.”
Judging by their attitude, the person called Director Bin seemed to hold a fairly high position at Red Moon.
Director Bin looked straight at me.
“Oh? And who might you be?”
Then she walked toward me.
“You look familiar. Have we met before? A model? An aspiring celebrity?”
As Director Bin came closer, a faint, fishy scent drifted into my nose.
Blood?
After working around violence long enough, the senses sharpened on their own.
There’s something rotten about this place.
I stood squarely in front of Director Bin.
“Hey. It’s my first time at a club. I’d appreciate a little guidance.”
“Oh, ho ho!”
Director Bin burst into laughter.
“You’re an interesting one. All right. I like a man with a backbone.”
She raised one finger.
“There are two ways to enjoy Red Moon.”
Director Bin pointed at the line stretched outside.
Then she leaned in and whispered in my ear.
“You can enjoy it like a commoner.”
Her red fingernail pointed up at the Red Moon sign.
“Or like a noble.”
Director Bin continued,
“For the record, the second option costs a lot of money.”
I pulled my hand from my pocket.
Then I took something out of my wallet.
It was the black card issued to me when I took over the DIO Guild.
Its official name was The Rich Card from American Express.
Unlike an ordinary credit card, it was made of high-strength titanium.
“Good.”
It could only be issued if you had more than 20 billion won deposited in the bank.
“I’ve got a little more than that.”
Director Bin’s eyes changed as she looked at the card between my fingers.
“Oh. So you were someone important. I’m terribly sorry I didn’t recognize you.”
Director Bin spread both arms toward the red-carpeted entrance.
“This way, please. I’ll escort you to the VVIP room.”
The guards stepped back and cleared the path.
Leaving behind the envious gazes of the people in line, I entered the club.