Chapter 181: The Doctor, the Patriot, and the Terrorist (8)
Sunlight from a clear winter day filtered into the car heading toward the columbarium. Combined with the warm air from the heat exchanger, the interior temperature was a drowsy kind of warmth that made one languid.
Sitting side by side with me in the back seat, Suyeon hadn't said a word since we set off. Black suit, white shirt, black necktie knotted in a four-in-hand. Aside from the watch on her wrist, she wore no jewelry. Her gaze angled slightly downward, her expression impassive—it was hard to read her emotions. Even her physical tells, unreadable to a criminal's eye, showed no notable fluctuations, making it tough for me to guess what was going on inside her head.
The only thing breaking the silence was the voice of the current affairs program host drifting from the radio.
"Putting together the latest research from various countries, it seems people with higher body weight are more likely to awaken abilities, right? Though the cancer risk goes up too."
"What this means is that North Korea's core elite in Pyongyang—what we'd call the geumsujadeul—have a much higher awakening rate than the shaky or hostile classes below them."
"Think about it logically. If the ruling class's power surpasses the ruled, how much unrest can society really have? It's premature to assume North Korea's political stability is crumbling, as some so-called experts claim. It's just wishful thinking, spinning the happy circuit."
"Predictions that Kim* will die of immortal cancer soon are a stretch too. Clinically, as the mass grows, it raises other cancer risks, but immortal cancer itself rarely metastasizes systemically—it's usually localized. Stomach stays stomach, lungs stay lungs, skin stays skin."
"So with regular checkups and timely removal procedures, the odds of dying from it drop sharply. It's literally a money-and-time problem. Unless Kim*, the richest guy in North Korea among the richest geumsujadeul, lets laziness eat his brain, the chances of him dying from immortal cancer are..."
I activated my telekinesis incantation to turn down the radio volume. Suyeon's gaze quietly shifted to my knee.
"Was it unpleasant?"
At my question, Suyeon blinked and asked back with a puzzled look.
"Pardon?"
"This. Going together like this."
"Not at all."
"I see."
"Yes."
Even in ordinary companies, it's hard for subordinates to refuse a boss's suggestion. Weekend hikes are a classic example. Though Suyeon was resolute enough to rank second to none in the organization, she always upheld perfect etiquette toward me, so I couldn't rule out that she'd nodded along despite any reluctance.
After a pause, Suyeon met my eyes and asked.
"Did I seem like I disliked it?"
"Hard to say. I wouldn't know."
"......"
What I didn't know was Kang Suyeon herself. I'd once believed I understood her motives and goals to some degree, but as time passed, that confidence had eroded bit by bit. I trusted her loyalty to me, but it was hard to confirm logically or visually, which troubled me.
Maybe Kyung-tae had a point. I might be over-relying on my Golden Age's Eye.
But perfect understanding of humans probably wasn't permitted to humans. Even encountering the occasional outlier off the norm, my judgment of people had never let me down badly.
"To reiterate, absolutely not."
"Alright."
Suyeon, emphasizing with repetition, turned her slanted gaze forward. She seemed a bit disheartened, though it might just be my imagination, as usual.
Visiting a specific subordinate's memorial among the dead was unusual for me. As the organization's head, I avoided favoritism; usually, I paid respects at the collective altar in the annex to show I hadn't forgotten their devotion. My commemorations were official organizational events.
The columbarium we soon reached was a bit noisy outside. An awakened tree's thick roots had encroached on the parking lot edge, so boundary reinforcement work was underway between the forest and facility.
Entering the main building, staff in black suits bowed politely. Some were family of deceased members who knew the organization's true nature, hired here. Even those not directly indebted to me worked as collaborators. With living guarantees and limited business knowledge, they were safe hires unlikely to snitch for self-preservation. A facility worth the investment for morale management.
Inside, external noise dropped to near zero. The interior resembled an old mansion's study. Under soft ivory wall lamps, matching marble floors held rows of soft brown urn cabinets. Ample space between them included seats and tables for mourners per compartment.
Urn-and-incense cabinets at eye level had albums above and relics below. The lowest, floor-level compartment held a letter box for visitors.
Originally, ancestral rites were at midnight on the eve, but Suyeon wasn't here for a formal rite. Just to reminisce.
I didn't believe in the afterlife, nor did she. What meaning could lavish offerings have for the dead? Especially for someone who'd lost parents early, with no relatives, living simply. Meaningless even as a family gathering tradition.
Thus, our rite was just one stick of incense and silent prayer before the portrait.
Standing statue-still, staring at the portrait for a long time, Suyeon took a key from her pocket and opened the bottom letter box.
Click.
Inside were many stacked letters. Given his reputation and over ten years, few would be odd.
Formal letters to the deceased weren't casually taken, even by family—read and replaced was usual. Formality, ultimately.
Suyeon pulled out the box, set it on the table, and sifted recent arrivals from the past year. Not many; excluding from the former chief secretary and policy director, just three remained. Ten years blurred memories of colleagues and subordinates. Without Suyeon, I'd be forgetting too.
Frankly, in organizational impact, the dead Su-hyuk paled against Suyeon.
If I'd had the mana back then to realize 'Life,' this guy would still be alive and active.
Then Suyeon might never have joined.
The former chief secretary once said, alone with me, that Suyeon was forged by Su-hyuk's death. Crude, unsayable to her face, but not wrong in my eyes.
So I'd profited greatly from Su-hyuk's death. Yet oddly, now I wondered if keeping Kang Su-hyuk alive would've been better. Irrational, uncharacteristic—baffling.
Why had I come here? Surface motive: loyalty management. Exceptions for key limbs were minor. But it felt incomplete, a nagging vagueness.
As I pondered, Suyeon asked.
"Would you like to read them?"
"The letters?"
"Yes."
"Is it alright for me?"
"Yes."
"......Then."
Here already, nothing else to do—why not? Good for sharing memories too.
I randomly pulled letters, carefully unfolding to read without damage.
Just... ordinary stuff.
Ignoring emotional undertones, I checked for internal organization details—potential clues if traced. I'd considered no letter box or censoring, but her predecessor dissuaded me. Preemptive warnings to subordinates sufficed; given our shared experiences, the morale and bonding benefits outweighed risks. I accepted that intangible value.
Reading each took little time—mostly short.
After seven or eight, Suyeon, eyes faintly red, spoke softly.
"I liked my brother a lot."
"I know."
"......No, you don't."
"Hm?"
"Sometimes, I wished Kang Su-hyuk wasn't my real brother."
"......"
I blinked, brow furrowing slightly. Not shock at her romantic feelings for her brother, but confusion at confessing to me.
Silence, then a safe reply.
"Never sensed that from Su-hyuk."
"It was my secret."
"I see."
"Don't you find it dirty?"
"What?"
"The feelings I harbored."
"Why care about outsiders' views? Worthless people who've never added a dime to your life."
"......"
"Furious addicts who ignore others' lives but foam at minor flaws. Nothing cheaper than their meddling. You know that."
"I do. I don't care about the world's gaze."
Suyeon shook her head faintly, staring straight.
"What I want is hyungnim's view."
I'd unwittingly dodged; still unclear her intent, but I answered clearly to avoid misunderstanding.
"Not dirty at all. Just liking someone—why would that be? No coercion, no harm."
"I see."
"Why ask?"
"Just wanted to know."
She's acting strangely today. I understand family conceptually only. Never experienced blood ties. Incest talk feels alien, unrelated.
"One more question?"
"Hm."
"When free of all fears someday, what would hyungnim want to do?"
"After finishing all fights, how I'd live?"
"Similar."
"Honestly, nothing planned."
"I see......"
"Life doesn't need a reason. Living itself can be enough. I just want to survive."
Spinoza's words on self-preservation as nature's essence explain my psyche perfectly.
"Then."
Suyeon, glancing down, met my eyes again.
"When you want something, could you tell me first?"
"......I'll consider it."
"Thank you."
Thanks for what? Once more, she felt unfamiliar today.