But this man had not just a bean-sized tattoo, but an entire dragon wrapped around his body.
How on earth did he become a police officer?
Then Geun-yeong realized the futility of his concern. The man was already a police officer, so what was the point of wondering how he became one? He couldn’t ask him right now anyway.
If they became closer, more intimate, could he ask then? How close would they need to be to ask such things?
Geun-yeong had a thirst to solve the mystery of the man’s dragon tattoo. For that reason, he wanted to get closer to him.
Having attached a reason to his desire to get closer to the man, Geun-yeong felt better and began to think about how to become friendlier with him by reflecting on the process of meeting, getting entangled with, and following the man to his home.
As he did so, he recalled things the man (who until then he had thought was a gangster) had said and done that seemed strange for a gangster, and now they started to make sense one by one.
“If you don’t want to die, just shut up and study hard.”
“Are you alive? I called to scold you if you were dead.”
“Are you an idiot? Why are you letting yourself be abused when you’ve done nothing wrong!”
“You can stay until you want to go back.”
“Using violence isn’t a bad habit, it’s a disease. A chronic illness with no medicine.”
“If you’re going to go back, you’ll need to be strong.”
“I mean mentally, you fool. Not physically.”
When he thought the man was a gangster, he couldn’t understand the immediate lectures when he showed suicidal tendencies, or the behavior of immediately taking in a runaway who had fled from his adoptive father’s abuse, or the statements that seemed to show aversion to violence.
He may have secretly hoped that such behavior stemmed from some attraction to him. He hadn’t thought about it while adjusting to the rapidly changing situation, but now it seemed he had harbored such expectations.
But that wasn’t it.
This person was a police officer whose professional ethics involved implementing social justice, a detective who fought against unethical violence. What he had shown wasn’t attraction or curiosity toward a single person. It was philanthropy toward all humanity. It meant that it didn’t matter if the person he met, called, drove in his car, and brought to his home was him specifically. It meant that whether the person crying at the bus stop was him, Woo Donghwa, or the noisy Park Sanghun, the result would have been the same.
By now, his dizziness had subsided. He already knew it was different from hypoglycemic symptoms, but it clearly wasn’t hypoglycemia.
As he watched the back of the man walking ahead with his thumb hooked in one pocket of his pants—a habit he now recognized well—there was a different emotion mixed in compared to when he had seen the same back just a few hours ago.
It was regret.
Despite being certain it wasn’t hypoglycemia, there was no strength in his legs as he followed the man. This must be what it means to “feel deflated.”
The man leading the way went deep into the building corridor. Geun-yeong followed about two or three steps behind. A mechanical sound hummed low throughout the corridor. Perhaps because it was an old building, the air conditioning system seemed to be running loudly.
The man walking ahead opened an iron door near the back entrance without hesitation. As soon as he opened the iron door, the sound Geun-yeong had been listening to was greatly amplified. Now he realized that it wasn’t “the sound of an old building’s air conditioning system.” It was the sound of a small electric saw’s engine running. That is, on top of a corpse.
Geun-yeong stood close to the wall near the doorway, and Kyung Jiho also only took one or two more steps without going any deeper. Not because a murderer in raincoat-like clothing and protective gear was dismembering a corpse. It was because things that might be blood, flesh, or bone fragments were flying in all directions.
Amid the noisy machinery, the man sensed another presence and looked up, and Kyung Jiho greeted him by raising one hand, just as he had done to the pink man earlier. The electric saw sound stopped.
“Hey, Detective Kyung, long time no see! Are you here to request an autopsy? Not possible today? As you can see, we’re busy with this grandfather.”
The person pointing at the corpse with his hand not holding the electric saw had his appearance completely concealed by protective gear. But judging from his resonant and rough voice, he seemed to be quite elderly.
“No, today I brought something good.”
This was the second time Geun-yeong had been treated as an object since meeting the man, and he felt a chill momentarily despite knowing the man was a detective. He already knew that the man, whether speaking to someone about his age or much older, would greet them casually by raising one hand and would refer to bringing someone as delivering an object.
“Something good? What is it? That guy? He looks weak.”
“According to him, he’s not that weak.”
Geun-yeong, standing behind Kyung Jiho, didn’t realize that the man smiled while saying this.
“And he’s a medical student. He might be more convenient than items that only know how to use strength. It’s probably not his first time seeing a corpse like this. Right?”
Kyung Jiho turned just his upper body to look at Geun-yeong for agreement, and Geun-yeong hesitated before nodding. He wasn’t sure if he would be more convenient than strong people—no, items—but it was true that this wasn’t his first time seeing a corpse. Not only was it not his first time seeing a corpse, but he had learned the process of removing and dissecting 12 organs, including the brain, and had even taken group practical exams.
“Really?”
Meanwhile, the man who had put down the electric saw removed his gloves and lifted his face shield. As Geun-yeong had expected, the man who appeared to be well over sixty, possibly seventy or more, asked:
“A medical student?”
He looked quite interested in the mention of a medical student, probably because there had been cases where “items that only know how to use strength” had lost important organs while assisting with autopsies.
“What year?”
“Third year of medical proper.”
“Oh, really? You’ve learned everything then?”
It could be considered that he had learned everything he needed to. In the fourth year, students spend the entire year preparing for the national licensing exam based on what they’ve learned so far. But Geun-yeong, who didn’t think he knew anything given his complete lack of clinical experience despite having completed the medical proper coursework, did not nod.
“Hmm…”
The man, nodding instead of Geun-yeong and looking him up and down, said:
“Can you start working today? Both this gentleman and I are elderly, you see. The difference is that he’s comfortably lying down, while I’m straining myself to the point of exhaustion, which isn’t good for my stomach, you know.”
The one who laughed with a “haha” was Kyung Jiho. Geun-yeong didn’t laugh, wondering if this was a joke that was appropriate to laugh at. Considering himself too strict to laugh comfortably at what was clearly a joke, Geun-yeong looked at the man who had brought him here, wondering if he should answer the question about starting work today. But the man turned his upper body to meet Geun-yeong’s eyes and asked instead:
“Do you want to start today?”
“What? Yes.”
Was it up to him to decide? Though he inadvertently questioned this, he hurriedly answered without delay.
In truth, Geun-yeong wanted to do something as soon as possible. That’s why he was willing to do any job, whether at a restaurant or a coffee shop, wherever they needed people. Staying idle at home made him think too much, and most of those thoughts drifted toward feeling sorry for the man who had taken him in, which made him uncomfortable all the time. And then, just a few hours ago, he had ended up washing the bedding—which, though not innocent by Geun-yeong’s standards, was innocent by the man’s standards as it wasn’t time to wash it yet—and greeted the man in his underwear. So he wanted to work right away if given the chance.
“Then put on those clothes over there and come here.”
“Yes!”
Wanting to show his willingness to work, Geun-yeong answered energetically and went to where the man, who was picking up the electric saw again, had indicated with a nod of his chin. It was a coat rack made by hammering a nail into the wall. He took down one of the protective suits hanging there and put it on in the same way as the man standing in front of the corpse, glancing at him for reference.
Meanwhile, the man who could now probably be called “Detective Kyung” received a phone call. The content of the call, which would have sounded like he was going to have a showdown with an organization called “Sangsik” if he still thought the man was a gangster, sounded completely different now that he knew he was a detective.
“Got it. I’m coming now.”
After ending the call, the man looked at Geun-yeong, who was wearing an oversized protective suit, and said:
“I’ll come to pick you up before dinner. Help Mr. Baek Moonjong well.”
It was already kind enough that he had introduced him to a suitable job, but in the midst of casually stating his business, he was also letting him know the name of the person who would be his employer. That kind of sensibility from the man was really cool and appreciated.
Not knowing that he thought the man was cool, and simply thinking that his heart was racing and excited because of the new job, Geun-yeong raised his tightly closed lips into a smile, nodded his head vigorously, and even gave a clear “Yes!” in response.
Not noticing that Kyung Jiho hastily turned his head away at that moment, Geun-yeong lowered his head again after briefly raising it to answer. While he was tying the string that he had wrapped around once to the front, he heard the man’s words of instruction for Mr. Baek Moonjong.
“That guy can’t miss his time, so I’ll come to pick him up around dinner time.”
Hearing these words of clear concern, Geun-yeong’s heart raced again. New people, a new beginning. Despite the worry and burden of standing on his own, he thought how genuinely happy and excited he felt. Not realizing that the joy and excitement weren’t solely due to his independence, he tightened his waistband firmly and raised his head.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
