Faded Traces in Dangjin
Seo-ah, Hyeon-a, Hyeon-a's brother, and Zhao Xin headed to Dangjin. They met the manager uncle's acquaintance—an active-duty police officer who had taken a short leave to ensure their safety—at a cafe in the city center.
No matter where they investigated, even if they wandered into sketchy spots, having a real cop in tow would make anyone think twice before slamming the door in their faces. Especially if it involved shady dealings.
"Hello."
"Just like I heard, only two women showed up. Aigoo, young folks diving into dangerous work. Even pros don't go hunting missing people in pairs."
"We're just looking for one person who vanished ages ago. Dangjin's not that dangerous a city."
"Not dangerous... well, no, but there's no country safe for a woman walking alone."
Even in countries or cities with top-notch public safety, you couldn't control every individual's deviance. He figured it was a relief to be there himself rather than let his acquaintance's little sister get hurt in some dumb spot. Plus, he had plenty of eager juniors ready to jump at his word.
"And you're after that missing Chinese lady? That's even rougher territory."
"It's been so long that finding the perp isn't the main goal—more like grabbing any trace to take back home. If she's alive, it'd be like holding a rite for the strict one."
"Fair enough."
While Zhao Xin lit up at the sight of old traces of his mother, snapping photos from the side, they stepped back a bit and lowered their voices. When asked if they could really find someone after ten years, the rational man grasped the situation instantly. He wasn't one to buy into shamans or ghosts.
"Ah, if that's the case, we can show you our records. Want me to search now?"
"I'd be grateful. But will records even still exist?"
"Gotta check."
They confirmed he was making a separate call, then stuck to the pre-planned schedule. No real expectations despite his offer to look into it. Better to head straight to where she might have lived than wait blindly.
It was a place they'd never return to, so Seo-ah scanned the surroundings, committing to memory every spot his mother might have walked. Coming alone, she couldn't afford a proper home, so she'd likely lived in a semi-basement of one of these squat two- or three-story houses crammed in the neighborhood.
They parked roughly at the village entrance and strolled up the alleys slowly.
"That industrial complex went up over there, so lots of rebuilds and fresh remodels. Used to be all rundown."
"So addresses changed a ton, huh?"
"Not sure on details. They demolished buildings and slapped up villas left and right."
"Hmm..."
After translating for Zhao Xin and following the smartphone map as best they could, a recently built villa greeted them—parking on the ground floor, three stories up, the standard Seoul-style setup.
"This matches the old address, but digging up traces looks tough."
"I see."
"Where was the factory she worked at? We should check there at least."
"Here."
He rummaged in his bag and pulled out worn paper. It was like a museum artifact, a precious keepsake of a used letter sheet, hard to handle casually. She read it aloud: worked assembling parts for cars, inspecting electrical components for autos, roughly speaking. Korea's major carmakers boiled down to three big ones. If it was a subcontractor for her cousin's company, it'd be even easier to probe.
"Today, we'll hit the factory, just confirm if records exist, and call it. You flew in at dawn—must be wiped out."
"Yeah. Coming here in person has my heart racing."
Japan was recent enough, with so few Koreans that fading memories could be dredged up by force. But this? Forget it. In a tiny country bursting with mobile populations, memories spiderwebbed thin and splintered into dozens of threads. How many Chinese had passed through in ten years?
"Ladies, factory then straight to the hotel?"
"Yep."
"No need for me to tag along then. I'll head to the station, check, and call. Any trouble, ring the station direct."
He was wary of back alleys or weird buildings under the guise of "investigating," but normal spots didn't need an escort. Since they were going legit without shady background hires, he relaxed a bit and peeled off first. Old files might be buried in disused cabinets.
"Let's go."
"Boss, no prior contact—think they'll just let us in? Auto and semiconductor plants are a pain to enter."
"They won't hassle you two or the uncle behind, but I can stroll right in."
"Why?"
"'Cause my connections are solid, duh."
"Whoa..."
Hyeon-a had no comeback to the obvious, so she turned to the photos she'd taken so far. While she eyed letters from his bag, Seo-ah shot a direct line to her uncle, the auto company's head honcho. No need to call for a mere assembly plant on paper—not some R&D zone. A quick text—"Need to pop in to find someone"—and done. Their bond, forged via baldness cure, made it possible. He doted on his niece.
"I'd love to go in too... probably impossible?"
"Afraid so. Even I'm just slipping in via contacts—copy records and out. Wait here a sec."
"Okay, bummer."
Seeing the factory from letters alone must have him all bittersweet. Seo-ah couldn't relate, so she skipped fake comfort, hopped out, and headed to the guard post.
Flashing ID and her name got her a smooth escort to HR, no hassle. Folks glanced at the suited woman striding in confidently, but chalked it up to business as usual.
"Hello."
"Hello. We got the heads-up. Need HR records from ten years back?"
"Yes. Available?"
"This way."
The HR manager in work overalls greeted her personally, belly proudly unhidden by fabric, no suspicion of the outsider. He showed the prepped records.
"We were digitizing lately, dumping old stuff—got lucky finding it quick. A bit later, and it'd be trashed."
"Fortunate."
"This the one? Asked a longtime crew chief who remembered vaguely. Said she was diligent, family obsessed—always bragging her straight-A son topped the school."
"Social butterfly, huh. Tough gig for a foreigner."
"Now we get tons of foreign labor, but back then? Rare birds."
He figured she prioritized cozying up to locals and bosses over bonding with scarce compatriots. Chinese didn't clump blindly by nationality.
"Her sudden leave stuck in memory."
"Any oddities around then? Talk of going somewhere?"
"Eh... too long ago. Nothing stands out for me."
Just a longer home trip, tacking on a day off—nothing fishy. Quirky bit: distrusted banks, cashed cash for China run. When contact dried up, they shrugged "China thing," waited extra, hired replacement, done.
"Thanks for the solid answers on short notice."
"No trouble. Head office asks, we deliver. Heh."
His words dripped subcontractor woes and the torment of dredging decade-old trivia—why now? Brass brushed it off easy; underlings grilled endlessly. Time healed that. Seo-ah bid farewell and returned to the car.
"Got it?"
"Here."
She flipped the factory docs to the back and fired up the engine. Zigzagging from Seoul had darkened the sky already. West Coast Expressway jams stretched the drive beyond plans—mentally draining more than body. Narrow alleys conjured traffic lawyer YouTube vids; hard to speed carefree.
"Hotel first then food? Or eat then hotel?"
"Either works for me."
"Mr. Zhao Xin, dinner then hotel?"
"Nah, stomach's iffy. Straight to hotel rest."
"Got it."
Less tummy trouble, more brooding over the docs she'd brought.