My Bloody Valentine - 2

Chapter 2

The sea doesn’t get wet.

As Han looked at the orange shimmering surface under the streetlights, that phrase suddenly came to mind. This wasn’t the sea, but a river.

Han sat by the Han River, gazing at the river with the same name as his. After gulping down what was left in the can, he exaggeratedly sighed, as if trying to convince himself.

“Ah, it’s nice.”

A woman who had been enjoying a late evening walk with her dog passed by and glanced at Han, who was sitting alone on the bench.

She might have thought he was drinking a cold beer, but what he was actually sipping was cola. He had bought it at his workplace, a convenience store, paying full price for it. To enjoy a proper romantic moment, beer would have been a better choice, but Han’s sluggish liver couldn’t process even a few sips of alcohol.

The sea doesn’t get wet.

Back in high school, when his homeroom teacher, who taught Korean language, mentioned that phrase, Han’s classmate, the class president, came up with a creative interpretation: “The sea can be seen as a big person who isn’t affected by small things like rain, right?”

Until that student with a name called by the teacher delivered this presentation, Han had been silently speculating on the meaning of that phrase: “I’m already so battered that even small things can’t hurt me anymore.”

As they say, to a pig’s eye, everyone looks like a pig, and to a Buddha’s eye, everyone looks like a Buddha. You tend to see what you want to see.

In fact, he had recalled that phrase not because he was looking at the flowing river, but because he had been hurt.

“Give me a pack of cigarettes, please.”

The customer who entered the convenience store just before closing time was a man who appeared to be in his mid-fifties.

“That’s five thousand won.”

He handed over a fifty-thousand-won bill and casually requested a cigarette. He then picked up the change, along with the item he had asked for, and paid for it.

The man took the item and, as if fishing for something, gestured towards the cluster of lighters next to the cigarette storage.

“Aren’t you giving me a lighter?”

“Oh, yes. That’s five hundred won. What color would you like?”

“What? Five hundred won? Are you charging for a lighter?”

“…Yes?”

“What’s wrong with you? You should be giving it as a service. I bought a pack of cigarettes.”

Such incidents were extremely rare, but the problem was that they were more common than one might think.

“I’m sorry. We don’t offer services like that due to our store policy.”

“What? Policy? That’s ridiculous. Where did you learn to have such an attitude? Did your parents teach you to be this rude to adults?”

“…I apologize. I grew up in an orphanage.”

Normally, in such situations, people would be flustered, mumble apologies, and retreat or run away, but this customer was different.

“Oh, really? You’re not even giving me a lighter as a service, even though I bought a single pack of Han Bo-ru? If I were in your shoes, I’d give it for free, even if I had to pay it myself.”

Gigantic raindrops fell on the vast sea, and I felt like I was soaking wet for the first time.

Originally, this time slot was when the university student part-timers worked, but they had swapped shifts to prepare for their club’s festival. It was, in fact, an exchange that involved a gift certificate worth 3,500 won, but…

Regretting the decision he had made without much thought, Han took out a 355ml chubby cola can from the refrigerator, paid for it, and put it in his bag.

Then, he mindlessly wandered to the Han River, without any clear intention.

As he sipped the last drop of cola, he pressed the empty can flat with the same foot that wore the low turquoise Converse sneakers, which had lost their original bright color, stepping on it as if it was something to be trampled underfoot.

The rubber sole of the old shoes, which had been ground down as if to withstand all the trials of the world, crushed the aluminum can as if playing a punching machine at the arcade.

They say 12:30 AM is the darkest time of the 24-hour clock, and it’s a time when people become exceptionally sentimental, believing they can hide everything in the darkness.

However, for some, the buses and subways had already stopped running a long time ago, and taxis had entered the time of surcharges. So Han decided to walk.

It would take about an hour from here to his home. It was a distance that he could walk comfortably, feeling good without any thoughts as he walked.

Just a few days ago, the air had been muggy, soaked with moisture, causing his hair to stick to his forehead. But now, with the transition to a new season, a cool breeze had arrived.

Han crossed one of the eight-lane bridges, walked along a major road for a while, and eventually turned onto smaller streets. He arrived near his home, where he entered a narrow uphill road that could barely accommodate one car.

He walked earnestly, passing by the streetlights that had recently been replaced with LED lights, giving off a bright white glow as part of a city development project.

From his earphones, a cheerful voice of a girl group singing about a hopeful future played. Han deliberately chose to listen to bright songs, even if life itself felt like a dull ballad.

As he walked to the lively rhythm of the song, with a BPM exceeding 220, his steps slowed slightly, and then his head tilted slightly. He had noticed that his shadow, elongated below his feet, had become noticeably plump.

Why was that? In the moment of absent-mindedness while thinking, his single shadow suddenly split in two, as if torn apart.

Up until that point, Han hadn’t realized what was happening to him and had merely been staring at the ground.

As the separated shadow continued to grow larger, Han eventually stopped walking completely.

“Huh…?”

By the time Han realized that the shadow wasn’t his, but belonged to someone else, it was already too late.

He felt someone’s presence and tried to turn around, but at that moment, a hand as firm as a brick slammed forcefully against Han’s throat. He couldn’t resist, and he slumped to the ground.

The man wearing dark clothing, like an emerging shadow, encircled Han’s shoulders and effortlessly moved him into the back seat of a black SUV he had arrived in. He didn’t forget to tie Han’s wrists behind his back.

As if part of the night itself, the black vehicle quietly left the run-down neighborhood, as if nothing had happened.

…

At the sound of a thud, Youngdal turned his head and found Han lying on the ground.

“Huh? What’s that again?”

Youngdal called out, turning his head towards his subordinate, while aimlessly tossing cement toward his underling.

“Hey, this guy. Why isn’t he tied up?”

“What? That’s strange. I’m sure we tied him up…”

“What? Strange? I’m sure we tied him up? Geez, are you a cement mixer, or are you a person? Are you more absorbed in mixing cement than this?”

Youngdal was about to say a few more words, standing tall with his hands placed firmly on his waist, when, once again, the dull sound reverberated, and the iron door inside the construction site swung open.

With the sound of sturdy shoe heels tapping the ground, three men entered through the open door.

The tallest of the men, who remained silent, brushed past Youngdal without responding.

One of Youngdal’s subordinates quickly fetched a folding chair and wiped off the dust from the seat with his jacket sleeve. It was a showy gesture.

The man in the chair slowly crossed his legs and looked somewhat like Youngdal’s younger brother, even though there was no particular standout trait in him. Perhaps it was because of Youngdal’s old age that made him seem that way.

His name was Jang Taesin, and he had been directly appointed by Chairman Baek Junggil, making him a vice president of Cheongsong Construction at the young age of twenty-seven.

With his short sideburns and long scratches, his seemingly expressionless face had gained black shadows under his eyes at some point, becoming his trademark feature.

One of the men who had been tied up next to Han recognized the face of Jang Taesin, which was revealed from under the squid mask, and urinated in his pants.

“Let’s begin.”

A languid voice with a low tone filled the space.

The first man to face judgment was a member of a contractor’s organization suspected of providing information to the police about the financial flow of Cheongsong Construction. Naturally, as soon as he was untied, the defendant claimed his innocence.

“Sir! I’m really not involved in this. Why would I stick with those lowlifes? What could I gain from there!”

“It’s probably not the police you passed information to but the other side. For example… Jaegyeong Construction.”

“…!”

“You leaked it to the other side.”

With tears streaming down his face as he pleaded, the man continued, “Please save me!! My mother is sick! So, I needed quick cash, and there was no other way.”

Interrupting the man’s tearful plea, Youngdal interjected, “Ah, every time you hear it, it’s so predictable and boring. That’s right, isn’t it, sir?”

Rather than sir, he pronounced it “niim,” elongating it with a hint of playfulness. Junho, who stood silently behind Taesin, frowned slightly and pushed up his silver-framed glasses on his bridge with his middle finger.

Where’s the playfulness? Coming to the establishment and talking about family and mothers all the time… what a pervert.

However, Taesin didn’t seem to mind, as he casually lit a cigarette and gave brief instructions.

“Have some fun.”

“Sure thing.”

“No need to watch.”

Following that, the three judgments and verdicts that followed were swift and clear. As the number of prisoners receiving death sentences increased, Youngdal’s face became more radiant.

“And, that’s the last one. Sir.”

The last chair was vacant.

Taesin’s gaze slid down to the small-built man lying on the floor in front of the empty chair.

Taesin slowly rose from his seat and approached Han, who was lying face down on the ground.

He pushed the hard tip of his sturdy Oxford shoe into Han’s side and lifted it with a sharp thrust, causing Han’s limp body to flip over.

Intermittent, squid-like neon lights, mixed with dust and cement powder, danced above Han’s pale face.

Staring at Han’s lifeless face, Taesin asked, “What’s going on here?”

“I didn’t do anything. He got scared and passed out by himself. How could that shark just lend money without any fear? He used to be bold, borrowing money like that. Hehe.”

“Shark?”

Junho, who had approached from behind, handed a document to Taesin instead of answering. The document displayed the logo of ‘Green Money,’ a loan company managed by Taesin, which featured a leaf-shaped symbol. The contents were simple.

Principal: 100 million won, Interest: 7,000.

“What should we do?”

“Take him to Tacenda.”

And just like that, the immediate judgments for the five defendants were concluded in less than 10 minutes. If all civil complaints in South Korea were as fast and straightforward, no one would ever complain.

“Uuaaah! Please, spare me!! Noooo!”

The sounds of Youngdal’s entertainment began. The other four who had been tied up next to Han would become a part of the new premium outlet’s underground parking lot that Cheongsong Construction was about to build tonight.

Taesin didn’t show a hint of hesitation as he exited the construction site. Following him were Junho, who had stood by his side for over a decade, and behind them was Han, the only one of the five to survive the chains, slung like a burden over the shoulder of a man in black.