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A white sports car roared as it sped along at high velocity. The motorcycle ahead seemed almost within grasp, then just out of reach, taunting its pursuer. After racing like this for some time, the road gradually narrowed. The motorcycle suddenly turned left onto an unpaved road.
The sports car followed close behind. Dust swirled and gravel scattered in all directions. After racing along for a while, the motorcycle squeaked around a turn and came to a stop. Construction work had completely blocked the path ahead. The sports car stopped as well, and immediately a menacing-looking large man stormed out of the driver's seat, fuming. He sneered at the motorcycle that could neither advance nor retreat.
"Hey, you son of a bitch! You're dead today!"
The large man pulled a utility knife from inside his clothes. As he stripped away the newspaper wrapped around the blade, the edge gleamed in the light. The car clearly belonged to Choi Gi-tae, but the man was nowhere to be seen. Soon after, someone got out of the passenger seat as well, and Ja-kyeong observed him closely.
He had yellow hair with piercings on his lips and eyebrows, and a goblin tattoo in exactly the same spot as Choi Gi-tae. They didn't look alike, but there was a high probability they were blood relatives or in a very close relationship. The large man, seething with anger, brandished his utility knife and gestured for him to come closer.
"Come here. I'm gonna pull your guts out through your belly."
Watching the large man cackle, Ja-kyeong removed his helmet. His face was unrecognizable due to a black mask that covered him up to the bridge of his nose.
"I said come here, bastard!"
Judging by the large man's expression, he was thoroughly enraged. Ja-kyeong strode toward him. Perhaps because he didn't look like he would beg for mercy, the man charged with the utility knife raised. Ja-kyeong simply drew a silenced pistol from inside his coat and fired a single shot into the man's thigh in the blink of an eye.
Thwip. The man screamed and fell to the dirt ground, clutching his leg.
"Fuck!"
The yellow-haired man, who had been leaning against the car smoking a cigarette with a leering grin, hurriedly reached for his waist, but Ja-kyeong was faster. He too was shot in the shin and collapsed forward. Ja-kyeong approached and pressed the muzzle against the yellow-haired man's forehead. Then he reached behind the man's waist, pulled out his gun, removed the magazine with one hand, and tossed it into the bushes.
"Where are the kids you brought from the police station the day before yesterday?"
The yellow-haired man raised his head, his eyes rolling as he laughed.
"Fuck. So you're that bastard. You think I'm gonna tell you?"
Before he could finish speaking, Ja-kyeong extended his arm to the side and aimed at the large man. Without any warning, thwip, a bullet fired, and the back of the large man's head exploded as he fell backward. Blood and brain matter flowed from his shattered skull, staining the dirt red.
All color drained from the yellow-haired man's face, which until moments ago had been wearing a vicious grin.
"W-wait, don't do this. I don't know who you are, but you're making a huge mistake right now."
"Where are they."
"Do you know who my father is? If you want something, we should negotiate. Using such crude methods to—"
Ja-kyeong drew a dagger and drove it into the yellow-haired man's shoulder. Aaaaah! A scream that seemed to tear through the air echoed through the silent rural village. The blade tip pierced through skin, severed muscle, and crushed bone. As he twisted the blade, the yellow-haired man's eyes rolled back white as he foamed at the mouth.
Ja-kyeong stopped his motion and looked down at the man with an indifferent expression.
"This is my negotiation style. Question again. Where are they?"
"Ah... ugh...."
"Don't want to talk?"
The man shook his head with bloodshot eyes.
"The... the warehouse...."
"Location."
"If you sp-spare me... I'll t-tell—"
Twisting the blade again, the yellow-haired man writhed in pain and howled.
"I'll talk! It's the Siheung-dong warehouse! Aaaaah! Fuck! It hurts! I told you! Stop! Fuck! I said stop!"
Ja-kyeong extended his hand. Phone. The man pulled a phone from his pocket. After unlocking it, he found Choi Gi-tae in the contacts. There were exchanged messages as well. Just as expected, he was indeed Choi Gi-tae's younger brother.
[Hyung, what's the address of the warehouse in Siheung-dong where the kids are locked up?]
He moved his gaze to look at the yellow-haired man. The guy was bleeding from his leg and shoulder, his face growing increasingly pale, his breathing rough. Ding. A message arrived immediately.
[You idiot. Did you get early dementia already? Why would it be Siheung? It's Doksam.]
One corner of Ja-kyeong's mouth lifted. The yellow-haired man's eyes were gradually being consumed by fear.
"Your brother says it's not."
The yellow-haired man, his face as white as a sheet, hurriedly made excuses.
"I, I remembered wrong. It's Doksam! Doksam! Now I remember. Doksam-dong 298-31!"
Ja-kyeong called Choi Gi-tae without hesitation and put it on speakerphone. Soon, a voice thick with irritation came through. It was Choi Gi-tae. Ja-kyeong held the phone in front of the yellow-haired man's mouth. Confirm.
[Hey, you son of a bitch. What now!]
The yellow-haired man looked at the gun muzzle aimed at his forehead and spoke.
"Hyung... there... the place where you gathered the porters... Doksam-dong 298-31, right?"
Haa. Choi Gi-tae's exasperated sigh came vividly through the speaker. But that wasn't the only sound. The sound of flesh striking flesh and suppressed male groans were mixed in as well. He could roughly guess what Choi Gi-tae had been doing when he answered the call.
The yellow-haired man looked anxious, worried that Choi Gi-tae might say something off.
[You idiot. Have I only been there once or twice? Fuck, you bastard really have all kinds of ways to annoy people.]
"S-sorry... I forgot...."
[Hang up, you son of a bitch. I'm busy.]
Click. The call ended, and the yellow-haired man sighed with relief as he looked up at Ja-kyeong. That worked, right? You'll let me live now, right? Ja-kyeong pocketed the yellow-haired man's phone and pulled the trigger. Thwip— the back of his head exploded as he fell backward, blood and flesh splattering onto his face.
Ja-kyeong walked past the man who died with his eyes open, toward the car. After wiping the blood splattered on his face using the window, he took a bomb from his bag and attached it underneath the vehicle. He started the motorcycle and headed back the way he came, hearing a distant explosion. The smell of blood rose intensely at the tip of his nose.
***
After getting out of the car, Il-hyeon took a deep breath. Perhaps because there was nothing else around, the air was undeniably clean. Building a house here had indeed been an excellent choice. With a satisfied expression, he entered the gate and discovered two staff members coming out from behind the house carrying a ladder.
They set down the ladder and bowed respectfully to Il-hyeon.
"Managing Director, you've returned."
"What's going on at this hour?"
"It seems they disturbed the CCTV while coming and going for the swimming pool construction earlier. The angle was off, so we put it back in place."
He had been contacted earlier that a construction vehicle had hit a utility pole during the day, causing a brief power outage. They had considered installing an emergency generator but put it off; it seemed they were finally doing it now. After sending them away, Il-hyeon went to the completed swimming pool with a satisfied expression.
The size and depth were exactly right. Two sunbeds had been placed beside the pool. He went over and lay down, stretching his legs out long. The stars were particularly visible tonight. Nice. He murmured to himself. He wanted to fill it with water soon and rest here.
On the way home, he had received word that the errand center owner and employees had been found floating as corpses in the reservoir. He didn't need to look to know who was responsible. The fact that he was one step too late made his insides burn with bitterness. By now, Kim Seon-yeong was probably cackling with delight. That damned old hag. There was a reason she had been so high and mighty at the company during the day.
Frowning, he shifted his gaze to the second floor. The bedroom where Jang Ian stayed had its lights off. Was he already asleep? He had been so busy with work that he hadn't seen him for two days and was curious about what he was doing. He kept remembering how Ian had writhed in shame while beneath him, yet grew excited until his eyes grew red.
Il-hyeon rose and entered the house. The housekeeper came out first to greet him.
"Welcome home, Managing Director."
"I'm back. Nothing unusual today?"
"Other than a brief power outage during the day, nothing happened. Ah, and it seems Ian has symptoms of a cold. He took medicine early in the evening and went up to sleep. He hasn't come down yet."
Il-hyeon's expression stiffened. So that was why the lights were all off. He was about to go up to the second floor when the housekeeper called out to him.
"He said he wanted to rest thoroughly today, and asked me to convey that to you, Managing Director."
Which meant Il-hyeon shouldn't come either. After thinking for a moment, Il-hyeon pretended not to hear the housekeeper's words and went upstairs. When he opened the door and entered, the living room lights came on. He went all the way to the bedroom door, but the room was silent as death. Knock, knock. He waited, but no response came.
"Ian."
No answer even when he called his name. He knocked again. Same silence. He turned the handle, but the door was locked. Il-hyeon's brow gradually furrowed. Should he force his way in? At that moment of hesitation, a message arrived on his phone.
[Managing Director. I caught the flu and I've lost my voice. I'm sorry, but let's meet tomorrow.]
It was the first message Jang Ian had ever sent him. Il-hyeon stared at the door. Another message arrived.
[I took medicine. I think I'll get better if I sleep. Thank you for your concern.]
"All right. Rest well."
This time there was no answer, no message either. After thinking for a moment, he turned away from the door. Before leaving, he looked back once more, but that was all. He had no desire to drag out someone who was ill and torment them. Though it would certainly be entertaining....