17 years later.
About ten minutes after leaving Seoul. The cityscape filled with skyscrapers had already disappeared, and green mountains and fields now dominated the view. The taxi driver, who had initially hesitated when asked to drive to Gyeonggi Province, was now humming along to music, bobbing his head to the rhythm. He seemed to be in a good mood. But could he be as happy as I am? If someone told me to stop the car and dance right now, I might actually do it. Seoyoung composed herself and quietly opened her phone.
“When are you coming this weekend?”
“Hey. Are you ignoring me?”
“So rude. Is that how you treat your mom?”
“Answer the phone. Stop driving me crazy.”
There were several unread messages from Sena. Sena was always like this. She would contact unexpectedly, pushing people without giving them time to think. In her eyes, Seoyoung was always the villain. The despicable bitch who pretended not to know after pulling out the family’s foundation.
Seoyoung dismissed the messages. She hadn’t made up her mind yet, and right now, maintaining her condition was more important.
“This is Bantech HR Team.”
Seoyoung clicked on the subject line of the email she had checked dozens of times.
“Hello, Yoo Seoyoung-nim. Thank you for applying to our job posting. As a result of the document screening, you have been selected as a first-round interview candidate, and we would like to inform you of the interview schedule as follows.”
She couldn’t describe how happy she was when she first received the call and confirmed it by email. Seoyoung discovered for the first time that she could jump up and down, and scream like a child. That’s why Sena’s knife-like texts couldn’t pierce Seoyoung today. After all, Bantech was the place she had desperately wanted to enter for a long time.
“But why are you going there?”
The taxi driver glanced at Seoyoung through the rearview mirror. He seemed curious about why a young woman who looked like she’d just graduated from university was taking a taxi to the outskirts of Seoul.
“I’m going for an interview.”
“An interview? What kind of company is this? I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s a defense company.”
“Defense? You mean, like making weapons and such?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Must be a small company. Doesn’t even make the news from what I can tell.”
The driver clicked his tongue, looking at the company name displayed on the navigation. Since there couldn’t be a more inappropriate conclusion, Seoyoung just smiled instead of answering. Bantech had long since risen to become Korea’s largest defense company. Their missiles and tanks appear in the news, but people only see the weapons and remain indifferent to Bantech, which makes them. This is probably because the defense industry is an unfamiliar field, and Bantech itself is a company shrouded in secrecy. Even this executive secretary recruitment wasn’t publicly announced but proceeded through unofficial channels via recommendations and connections.
“Hmm. I shouldn’t be saying this, but think carefully. Your life can diverge depending on where you start your first job. There’s a reason people say your first workplace is important. I’m saying this because you remind me of my daughter.”
“Yes.”
“With a pretty face like yours, you could easily get into a major corporation.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Seoyoung closed her mouth, not wanting to respond further. She could feel his gaze sticking to her through the rearview mirror along with the unsolicited advice. This was when one of Bantech’s disadvantages became apparent. It was too far from home.
A moment later, the taxi arrived at the destination. Seoyoung’s mouth fell open as she looked out the window. The scene unfolding before her eyes was completely different from the quiet small-town landscape they had passed through. Two guards stood imposingly in front of a tall fence with a gleaming automatic gate. Beyond them, at the end of a long stretching road, a building combining black and gray colors rose high. The spacious garden and well-decorated plaza visible between the iron gates gave a magnificent and sophisticated impression. Seoyoung felt her blood warming again at the intimidating yet mysterious atmosphere befitting a defense company.
“Hmm, hmm. I didn’t know something like this existed here?”
The taxi driver spoke awkwardly, then hurriedly drove off. Seoyoung silently gazed at the main gate before carefully walking toward it. On a black pillar at one side of the entrance, the words “BANTECH Advanced Military Intelligence Division” were embedded in metal type. Feeling a tingling sensation near her chest, Seoyoung presented her ID to the security guard.
“I’m here for an interview.”
***
Bantech building basement, weapons testing room.
The interior, surrounded by sound-absorbing panels, was filled with white light. Even with the clean air system running, a faint smell of gunpowder still lingered, revealing that experiments had been conducted until just a few hours ago. Seeing that the remote sensors that would have captured ballistic trajectories and firing recoil were turned off, the testing room would likely be sealed until tomorrow morning.
A man was kneeling on the vinyl-covered floor, his hands tied behind his back. His face was marked with bruises from multiple beatings, and his entire body was covered in dirt, dust, and dried blood. In front of him sat another man, legs crossed, watching him. The man felt extreme fear as he watched him slowly spin a silver pistol playfully. The man painfully moved his bitten and mangled tongue. No matter how unpredictable Sa Kangjun might be, as a human being, he must have a strand of compassion. Somehow, he needed to grasp onto that.
“I’m, I’m sorry, CEO-nim. From the beginning—”
“You didn’t intend to do it?”
“Well, my parents got sick, and my wife’s body—”
“Is not well, so she can’t work, plus your child’s study abroad expenses are piling up, and you lost all your money on stocks and cryptocurrency. So you tried to make a fortune by selling company technology?”
“That, well…”
“I don’t know why these vermin always have the same boring script.”
The spinning gun suddenly stopped. With an irritated sigh, “Haah,” Kangjun extended his hand, and the subordinate standing behind placed a magazine on his palm. He lightly gripped it and inserted it into the gun barrel. Click. At the sound of metal friction, the fallen man’s face turned pale. He crawled on his scraped knees to Kangjun and buried his head to the ground.
“I’ll, I’ll take punishment. According to the law, for the crimes I committed.”
“Ah. The law.”
Kangjun muttered indifferently as he pushed bullets into the magazine.
“Industrial Technology Protection Act, Article 36, or Military Secrets Protection Act, Article 13. 90 percent of those who leak core technologies of companies or nations are found not guilty, and even if they are guilty, they hardly get more than 5 years of actual imprisonment. Those fucking laws?”
Kangjun closed the gun and stood up.
“Development Team 3, Assistant Manager Jung Yongjin. Because of people like you, the company suffers fatal blows, and this country’s security is compromised, so what’s the point of throwing your worthless body in prison?”
“CEO-nim.”
“Even then, you’d live a few years, hire a lawyer, get released on parole, find the money you’ve hidden, and smugly chuckle about how all your suffering paid off while sipping a cocktail in Southeast Asia. Isn’t that right?”
Having casually thrown out harsh words, Kangjun pressed the gun barrel firmly against the man’s forehead.
“I’m sorry, CEO-nim. I didn’t pass on the information, so please show mercy…”
“You didn’t pass it on because you couldn’t. Because I stopped you before that.”
As he finished speaking, Kangjun stretched his gun-holding hand downward.
“And I’m not the kind of idiot who shows mercy.”
With his words, bang, the silver gun spat fire. Aaaagh! With an eardrum-piercing scream, the man curled up like a shrimp. Red blood was flowing ceaselessly from his thigh, where the bullet had lodged and torn flesh. The burning pain spread throughout his body. In the illusion of blood covering even his vision, the man realized how foolish he had been.
Sa Kangjun would kill him. And it wouldn’t even be a big problem for Kangjun. The law would circle around him and disappear, leaving only traces.
By the time the man’s sobbing subsided, Kangjun firmly stepped on his thigh. Aaaagh! The man let out another pain-filled scream.
“See, fuck, why did you do it?”
“Kuhuk, huk.”
“A caterpillar should just eat pine needles and live its life, why get greedy for the whole tree? Huh?”
Kangjun twisted his foot on the man’s thigh again. The pain was so extreme that now he couldn’t even scream. Only intermittent, desperate crying and labored breathing came out.
“Please… huh-uh. Save, me, CEO… nim.”
“Of course I’ll save you. I’m not a murderer.”
Kangjun answered while wiping his bloodstained shoe sole on the man’s pants.
Suddenly, a mechanical sound rang low from somewhere.
Even with one eardrum ruptured and his hearing impaired, the sound of metal scraping against the floor, clunk, clunk, was clear. The man raised his head. When he discovered the familiar entity approaching him, he was so surprised that he momentarily forgot the pain in his leg.
“It’s been a while since you’ve seen it, so say hello.”
No way!
Looking at Kangjun, who kindly moved his leg away, the man finally realized where his fate was heading. And that from the beginning, there wasn’t even a speck of mercy to be expected from Sa Kangjun.
With a bored expression, Kangjun looked at the watch on his wrist and smiled faintly as if he had remembered something. Returning to his seat, he said to the man:
“Don’t waste more energy and let’s make this easy, Manager Jung. I have an important interview today.”
As his words ended, the metallic sound drew closer.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
