Jiho ended the call with those words of thanks, and with a kind warning of “don’t get excited,” he gave Yang Hwa-ja another back hug. While putting Yang Hwa-ja’s phone back into the inner pocket, he pressed his lips close to the earlobe and whispered.
“You and I are going to be together forever now. I’ll be under the table next to any restaurant you go to eat at. Nice, right? I’ll be in the stall next to the bathroom where you take a shit. Happy, aren’t you? Hmm? The moment you call Ji Seokhun and say anything, I’ll be right next to Ji Seokhun. Do you understand me? Mr. Yang Hwa-ja?”
Yang Hwa-ja gave in to the gloomy blackmail that could have triggered anthropophobia or panic disorder. He nodded with the largest possible angle his cervical spine could create. He nodded very vigorously.
Patting the cheek of the man who looked like his neck might break, Jiho said it was enough, stop shaking, at your age shaking like that will make your bones come loose. Then he checked his watch.
“Wow, twelve minutes have passed? In exchange for reducing various fines, including obstruction of official duties for wasting valuable police time—”
To the man whose eyes were sparkling, he showed Park Man-sik’s phone, which he had unilaterally decided to take as collateral without the other party’s consent, and said:
“From now on, whatever transactions you make with Ji Seokhun, report them to me immediately through your son. Got it? Yang Hwa-ja?”
Yang Hwa-ja immediately began reporting.
“Actually, he also asked me to find a man named ‘Kyung Jiho.’ I told him that when Kyung Jiho was hospitalized, a police officer named Lee Dongjae from the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency came as his guardian and left a phone number. And Ji Seokhun knows Kyung Jiho’s resident registration number, so he was going to check the property registry…”
He swallowed the rest of what he was going to say, but the water was already spilled. Having confessed to the crime of checking property registries, Yang Hwa-ja eventually had to wet himself with a coin-sized amount of urine because of the eyes he met through the rearview mirror. And he began hiccupping.
“That bastard seems to be.”
“Hic!”
“Looking to get fucked up.”
“Hic!”
“Right? Yang Hwa-ja?”
“Hic!”
* * *
After identifying Yang Hwa-ja’s real name and personal information, Kyung Jiho unlocked the handcuffs. As he got out of the car, he left a friendly greeting about getting along well in the future, but Yang Hwa-ja’s soul didn’t return easily. Thanks to the driver who was absent-minded with fright, cars trying to enter the building’s parking garage were lined up honking their horns.
Jiho switched to his own car and leisurely drove past, watching a security guard running out from the building. And as he drove along familiar roads that he could navigate with his eyes closed, he organized his thoughts.
This man Ji Seokhun had apparently been monitoring Ji Geun-yeong’s every move. Where he went, who he met, whose car he rode in—he knew everything up until Geun-yeong decided to disappear. That wasn’t something an adoptive father would typically do.
He had thought it was just a violence issue. But it wasn’t simple violence. It had that feeling of pathological obsession leading to violence, like men with morbid jealousy who hit their wives.
To summarize, Ji Seokhun was obsessed with Ji Geun-yeong and had been violent toward him. Unable to endure it, the kid finally ran away. He had mentioned being adopted at age 6, so the kid must have endured his adoptive father’s obsession and violence for over a decade.
Damn. He endured it for a long time.
It was strange. Though his actions were naive and cute, he wasn’t a simpleton by any means. He was quick-witted. He definitely wasn’t the type who couldn’t understand after being told twice, making others frustrated. It was strange why such a kid hadn’t tried to change his situation earlier. Was he reluctant to give up the comfortable life guaranteed by wealth? If so, running away now made even less sense. Especially with medical school graduation right around the corner.
He set aside the problem that was useless to ponder alone. That issue could be resolved by asking the kid he’d left at home.
First, he’d stop by the government building to report his attendance as having arrived around mid-morning, then learn more about Ji Seokhun—as Jiho was organizing his rough schedule, he roughly pushed back the hair that was irritating his forehead.
The case of the missing drug dealer remained, but Dongjae had said he’d handle it. It was something he could trust him with. It seemed he’d need to clock in for the afternoon, pretend to be out on fieldwork, and then head home early. There was much he needed to ask and confirm with the kid he’d left at home.
He knew exactly where each speed camera was located and how many there were. As soon as he entered a section without enforcement cameras, he pressed down harder on the accelerator. He increased his speed.
After parking in the back lot of the government building, Kyung Jiho took large strides. He was in a hurry. Not just because of the precarious attendance time, but because he was concerned about the herbivore he’d left at home.
He felt slightly guilty about telling him to just eat the rice and cucumbers he’d made while staying at home. Although the kid who had lived a rough life watching people’s reactions didn’t seem particularly hurt, still. He thought he should say something slightly affectionate when he returned.
With his hands in his pants pockets, leaping up the front steps two at a time, Kyung Jiho let out a small snort. For no other reason than that he’d suddenly thought of that cross-eyed face.
As he entered through the glass doors, pushing them with his shoulder while grinning, he noticed a man standing in front of the information desk.
Although many people were coming and going in the lobby, this man stood out because of his long suit coat. He was definitely not a plainclothes police officer, who typically wore short jumpers or jackets to avoid hindrance when running, nor did he give the impression of a criminal. Of course, he could be there to file a report, but anyway.
Unless this man’s report came up to the criminal investigation division, especially the violent crimes unit, it had nothing to do with him, so he indifferently walked past toward the elevator. Due to unavoidable professional curiosity, he glanced once more, and at that moment, saw the face of the man who had just turned around.
The smile disappeared instantly from Kyung Jiho’s face.
The man who turned around while the information desk staff was on a call with someone was absolutely not an acquaintance, but not a stranger either.
The man in the long coat was none other than Ji Seokhun.
Jiho let out a cold laugh and changed direction from the elevator. Hiding his sneer to conceal his true feelings, he headed toward the man standing at the desk.
He didn’t know if the man was looking for him or for Lee Dongjae. Probably Lee Dongjae. According to Yang Hwa-ja, he had identified Lee Dongjae’s name and affiliation based on the guardian’s phone number. However, he said he hadn’t been able to check the property registry of Kyung Jiho—himself—despite knowing his resident registration number.
Whether the man was looking for Lee Dongjae or himself, there was no reason to avoid him.
He seemed uncomfortable standing in the middle of the police headquarters, like a person with something to hide sitting on a bed of thorns. His head, gaze, and small movements were frequent.
Like a dog that needed to pee, the man was scanning his surroundings when, about five steps away, he noticed someone approaching him and turned around.
Kyung Jiho maintained eye contact with the man as he closed the distance, examining his appearance.
He was quite famous in the medical field. Jiho had already seen his face in the portal site’s biographical dictionary. The neatly combed hair with a precise part, the silver-rimmed glasses, and the cool, slender eyes behind them. Except for the fact that he wasn’t wearing glasses now, he looked identical to the photo.
However, unlike the photo where he had a faint smile at the corners of his mouth, now there was no particular expression to speak of. The photo on the portal felt much more alive. The real person looked like a freshly dead corpse.
This man knew about the existence of Kyung Jiho, whom Ji Geun-yeong was looking for. And he knew the resident registration number of Kyung Jiho—himself—whom he met at the hospital. He also knew the make and license plate number of the car that Ji Geun-yeong had gotten into at the bus stop—the car that he drove.
I thought the person might know my face since they had discovered so many things. I stopped walking about two steps ahead and examined Ji Seokhun’s expression. Finding no answers in his expressionless face that looked like a corpse, I asked.
“What brings you here?”
“He said he came to see Detective Lee Dongjae from the Criminal Investigation Division.”
Just then, an employee who had finished a call with the Criminal Investigation Division answered from behind the man, and Kyung Jiho gave instructions with his eyes. Stay put.
The employee, catching the meaning of Kyung Jiho’s gaze, began pretending to be busy by picking up a phone that wasn’t even ringing and putting it to his ear.
With the employee out of the way, he asked again.
“What’s the matter?”
“I came to ask Detective Lee Dongjae a few questions for personal reasons.”
Ji Seokhun apparently didn’t recognize the face of someone who knew his name, resident registration number, and even his car model. As Kyung Jiho relaxed, he found himself standing with a slight slouch. Hiding the natural aversion rising in his expression, he said:
“I am Lee Dongjae.”
The employee behind Ji Seokhun at the desk made a face that said, No, you’re not. But having received instructions, he remained silent.
Despite coincidentally running into the person he was looking for, the man didn’t seem particularly pleased as he took out a business card from inside his jacket and handed it over.
“I am Ji Seokhun.”
I know. From the name he revealed himself, the phone number on the business card, his workplace, and even the name of the adopted son he’s obsessed with, to all the dirty deeds in between—but I pretended not to know and accepted the card.
It was uncertain when Lee Dongjae, who was out in Miari using a dealer as bait to catch both the contact and the broker at once, would return. Kyung Jiho, temporarily pretending to be Dongjae, suggested moving to a nearby coffee shop. Ji Seokhun, who was anxiously searching on his own without filing a missing person report for fear of damaging his career, also seemed to prefer changing locations.
Leading the way out of the building, Kyung Jiho headed toward a coffee shop a little distance from the police station, conscious of the back parking lot where his car was parked.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
