“You done?”
While Baek Donghyeon struggled to write the names of the Cheonghwahoe members with his left hand, I went and watched a variety show.
It had looked like it would take longer than I expected.
It was just a simple program about men and women meeting and breaking up; I don’t know what it was about it, but it was entertaining as hell.
Mixed within it were desire and jealousy, regret and tears.
I watched it in a daze, without even realizing it.
When I came back in, Baek Donghyeon silently held out a sheet of paper.
The A4 sheet was packed with names.
Crooked and scrawled.
He’d managed to write well with an impaired hand.
That must be how badly he wanted to live.
“This is all I know. I don’t know any more.”
“Huh? Why don’t you know? Aren’t you close with them?”
Baek Donghyeon exhaled as if scoffing.
“You stupid bastard. Do you think all alumni are close? That they all know each other?”
“I wouldn’t know, since I don’t have any alumni?”
Baek Donghyeon seemed slightly flustered by my words, but he spoke naturally, as if teaching me a lesson.
“There are over four hundred thousand Seoul National University alumni from my year. Do you think I know and am close to every single one of them? It’s the same here. People just happen to know each other and become moderately close.”
“Oho. Is that so? Then it’ll be fun digging them up. They’ll all come crawling out, connected like sweet potatoes.”
I was getting more excited.
Like a treasure hunt, I suppose?
A game of finding hidden pro-Japanese collaborators.
But Baek Donghyeon seemed to think differently.
“What?”
“I mean, you just said it yourself. That this is only the tip of the iceberg. If we keep digging, couldn’t we eradicate the pro-Japanese collaborators?”
“Eradicate pro-Japanese collaborators? You think that’s possible?”
“If we try, couldn’t we?”
Baek Donghyeon looked at me as if I were naive.
“Kehehe. Do you know this? Many independence fighters ended up as pro-Japanese collaborators. At first they thought they had to fight for independence, but when it dragged on, they decided it was better to side with Japan. It was a wise decision. I still think we haven’t achieved independence. We still need Japan’s help.”
I looked at the list Baek Donghyeon had handed me, then looked at Baek Donghyeon.
This bastard had eyes that truly believed that.
“That could be. Thinking that way is your freedom, after all. But I think differently. Why do you think those bastards collaborated? Because it was comfortable and profitable. But if collaborating doesn’t make money and puts their lives at risk? Would they still collaborate?”
“······”
Baek Donghyeon’s lips stiffened.
He hadn’t thought of that, it seemed.
“I fully understand your loyalty to Japan. I value that loyalty so much that I’ll scatter your remains in Japan. Live well as a ghost there. Maybe you’ll get some memorial food offerings in Japan. Though I don’t know who’d prepare them… Ah! But before that, there’s something you need to eat.”
Baek Donghyeon’s gaze swept the surroundings.
In one corner, someone could be seen mixing cement.
Gray powder was slowly mixing with water.
Baek Donghyeon’s face turned pale.
He seemed to realize that cement was what he had to eat.
“Last time the cement was too thick, so you had trouble getting it down. So this time I made it a bit thinner. Smooth going down. Well then, off you go.”
“What? Weren’t you going to let me live?”
Baek Donghyeon asked back in surprise.
He must have thought he was going to survive.
That was why he had cooperated.
The reality was cement.
“When did I say that? I said I was punishing pro-Japanese collaborators. I never said I’d save you.”
“No. You said you’d save me.”
Baek Donghyeon argued obstinately.
He must want to live that badly.
“No, I never did? Don’t push your luck. There’s no Cheonghwahoe here to help you, no NIS either.”
“No. No!!!”
Baek Donghyeon thrashed in the chair as if wronged, but there was nothing he could do.
His hands and feet bound to the chair wouldn’t move.
His broken right arm only brought pain.
“No. You said you’d save me. You said you’d save me.”
Baek Donghyeon screamed and begged for his life.
“Please save me. I’m begging you.”
Baek Donghyeon’s begging continued.
Then he suddenly asked for the reason.
Was it an occupational disease of the NIS?
Always asking questions.
“What’s the reason for doing this?”
“There is no reason. I told you, because I feel like shit. If I really had to make up a reason, maybe because I don’t like your font? It’s hard to read.”
Baek Donghyeon was bewildered by the sudden rant about fonts.
He had probably expected some grand excuse about doing it for the country, but fonts?
He would have tried to scoff if it were anything else, but fonts?
“That’s because I wrote with my left hand…”
“Do I have to care about that? I only look at the results. If you’re done talking, let’s begin.”
“No—”
Baek Donghyeon screamed, but nothing changed.
A funnel was forced into Baek Donghyeon’s mouth, and the cement went down.
Because it had been made thin, it went down smoothly.
.
.
.
Hwang Onyu was bothered by Director Baek Donghyeon, who hadn’t come to work for several days.
It wasn’t that she was worried about his safety.
It was because she felt like she had experienced this exact situation before.
That was what bothered her.
Before Hwang Onyu became a team leader, Gong Inbae had said this:
“I should make you a team leader.”
After those words, Team Leader Bak Dojin disappeared.
And Hwang Onyu became a team leader.
At the time, the NIS had been in an uproar over internal corruption,
and since it was a time when many positions were changing, she hadn’t suspected much.
But not long ago, Gong Inbae had said, “Shall I make you a director?”
Along with those words, the director disappeared too.
There was no way to even figure out where he had gone.
This situation was chillingly similar.
What if Inbae was kidnapping those people for her?
It was dangerous.
Far too dangerous.
Yet she was grateful.
That he would go this far for her.
Hwang Onyu hadn’t done anything for Inbae,
but she was grateful that Gong Inbae would do this for her.
But this method wouldn’t do.
There were too many potential problems.
And she didn’t want to become a director this way.
If it was a promotion, she could achieve it through her own accomplishments.
She wanted to believe that.
Inbae kidnapping people, and Hwang Onyu sitting in that vacant seat.
She couldn’t accept it knowing the truth.
No matter what position it was, not just the director’s seat.
She had to stop Inbae.
Just then, a breaking news report came on the TV.
News of disappearances.
A high-ranking official from the Ministry of Economy and Finance.
An official from the Ministry of Land, Infrastructure and Transport.
An official from the Board of Audit and Inspection.
News was coming out that a university professor and others had disappeared one after another.
Reports were saying that the police had formed a dedicated investigation team and launched an investigation into the continuing disappearances.
.
.
.
Internet community.
[Commonalities of the Recently Disappeared]
(Gim Dohyeon / Ministry of Economy and Finance Director) — funneled budget to pro-Japanese groups.
(Bak Sangwu / University Professor) — sparked controversy with remarks calling the Japanese colonial era a blessing to our times.
(Choe Minseok / Prosecutor) — gave non-indictment dispositions to all suspects in cases related to pro-Japanese groups.
(Yun Taegyun / Journalist) — praises Japan; periodically writes columns insisting we must learn from Japan.
(Han Jaeho / Webtoon Author) — you know this guy even without me saying, right? He’s famous.
Starting to make sense?
The people who have disappeared are all pro-Japanese collaborators.
I learned under Professor Bak Sangwu back in college, and that professor was no joke.
He’d always go on about how we have to learn from Japan.
That our country exists because Japan exists.
That we have to repay the grace.
It was truly disgusting enough to make you vomit.
But what could a measly student do against a professor?
I just had to endure it.
But seeing the disappearances this time, I checked in surprise, and all the disappeared people were pro-Japanese collaborators.
It’s a bit iffy to say this, but I actually feel refreshed.
They were people you couldn’t touch no matter what.
At least I do.
\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_
A post went up on the internet.
A post claiming to reveal the commonalities of the disappeared people.
That they were all pro-Japanese collaborators, or people loyal to Japan, or people who distorted history.
The post was shared everywhere, and the reactions were heated.
Comments exploded.
- Honestly, it’s a huge relief.
- Those pro-Japanese bastards should all be beaten to death.
- Pro-Japanese collaborators aren’t even human.
- I’m just grateful someone is doing what the law can’t.
└ I support them. Don’t get caught.
- The list is really incredible. Each one is a gem.
└ Seems like a truly well-made list. An all-star team of pro-Japanese collaborators.
There were those who supported.
- No matter how you package it, it’s still a crime.
- Private justice? In the 21st century? Ridiculous.
└ So what about when public authority can’t do it? Then who does?
- Still, this doesn’t seem right. It should proceed according to law and proper procedure.
There were those who opposed.
- I’m neutral for now. I’ll judge after seeing how things go.
- Honestly, how do we know if it’s a disappearance or if they went into hiding?
- There must be some reason, right? Would there really be a crazy bastard who kidnaps people just because they’re pro-Japanese?
And there were also those who threw it in neutral and waited.
- But why isn’t anyone saying it’s tragic that they were kidnapped?
└ Is there anything tragic about it? It’s their karma.
└ It proves what kind of life they lived.
- That professor was seriously the worst when I was in school. I don’t know how he’s still a professor.
- Yun Taegyun’s columns are really infuriating. Link.
Even then, the pasts of the missing were continuously being unearthed.
The more they dug, the more horror stories and absurd remarks poured out.
Public sentiment was gradually flowing in a positive direction.
It was heading toward the level of supporting a kidnapper whose name no one even knew.
.
.
.
“Kehuk… you… do you know who I am?”
“I don’t. And I don’t need to.”
The pot-bellied man in his fifties still didn’t seem to grasp the situation and kept screaming.
Asking if I knew who he was.
He was bellowing at the top of his lungs that we were making a mistake messing with him.
Shouldn’t he have come to his senses after taking a few hits?
Why hadn’t he come to his senses yet?
“You think you’ll be safe after doing this?”
“Yeah. I think I’ll be safe. So stop worrying about me and worry about yourself.”
“What?”
Judge Yi Gicheol felt this situation was like a dream.
A nightmare.
He had definitely been drinking at a bar, on his way to round two.
He thought he’d fallen asleep for a moment, but when he woke up, he was in a warehouse.
His body was tied up tight.
It was the first time in his life he had ever been treated this way.
Since childhood, he had lived being praised for studying hard and acing tests;
he had lived being treated with nothing but respect as a judge.
Facing treatment he had never once experienced, he thought this absolutely could not be reality.
Kidnapping?
He had never even considered it.
He had never thought there would be a crazy bastard who kidnapped a judge in the Republic of Korea.
Kidnapping a judge carried a heavier punishment than other crimes.
Other judges wouldn’t leave a criminal who kidnapped a judge alone.
They’d add charges for contempt.
One phone call was all it took.
One phone call and the police would come, rescue Yi Gicheol, and arrest that bastard.
The countless phone numbers saved in Yi Gicheol’s cell phone.
From the police commissioner to the prosecution, they would rush right over.
But he couldn’t make a call because he was tied up.
No, he didn’t even know where his phone was.
Unlike Yi Gicheol, whose body trembled from fear and terror, the man in front of him was perfectly calm.
He had to change the atmosphere.
He had to survive.
Only then could he sweep away these trash-like bastards.
If he could just get out, he would sweep these bastards away in one go.
For that, it was fine to act a bit servile for a moment.
“Let’s talk. Let’s talk. What are you curious about?”
“There’s nothing I’m curious about.”
“There must be a reason you kidnapped me, right? Me, a judge of the Republic of Korea!”
“Oho~ you know you’re a ‘Republic of Korea’ judge?”
“Of course.”
“Then why did you hand down judgments the way you did? As a Republic of Korea judge.”
“What?”
I listed the judgments Yi Gicheol had handed down one by one.
“You refused the pro-Japanese collaborator asset recovery law, right? On the grounds of private property rights. You also dismissed compensation for forced labor victims, rejected provisional disposition requests to ban the sale of history-distorting books, and even sentenced someone to actual prison time for snatching and tearing the Rising Sun flag from someone marching with it in the middle of Seoul. One year. Without probation. For tearing a measly flag.”
Yi Gicheol’s eyes wavered.
“That’s… because it could cause a national dispute…”
“A national dispute?”
“Exactly. Think about it—wouldn’t you be angry if a Japanese person tore our Taegeukgi?”
“The Rising Sun flag isn’t the Japanese national flag, though.”
“…It’s not the national flag, but it symbolizes Japan…”
“It’s not because you like Japan? You’re watching Japan’s mood.”
At my words, Judge Yi Gicheol exploded in anger.
“I’m not someone who mixes personal feelings into trials. What do you take me for?”
“What do I take you for? A dog bastard. Look at the judgments you’ve handed down. Doesn’t a judge speak through rulings? But your rulings are dog-like. So a dog… no, this is really an insult to dogs.”
“We only act in accordance with the law…”
“Go find the law you love at the courthouse. It’s not needed here.”
“Huh?”
“Here, I’m the judge, the prosecutor, and the lawyer.”
“Where does that happen? This is a crime. You’re committing a crime.”
Yi Gicheol became agitated.
His voice grew louder.
“I know. I’m committing a crime. I’m doing it knowingly. And I’m not going to reflect on it either. In your courtroom, you’re the king, but here, I’m the king. So I’ll do whatever I want.”
“No. Where in the world does this happen?”
“Here? Now. I seek the death penalty for the defendant, Yi Gicheol. Defense attorney, please present your argument. No objection. Then I shall deliver the verdict. I sentence the defendant Yi Gicheol to death.”
I acted out a one-man show, playing three roles alone.
Prosecutor, lawyer, judge.
I passed judgment through proper legal procedures.
Of course, they were my own laws.
Watching that, Yi Gicheol’s face turned pale.
“Ridiculous. There’s no evidence, no proper procedures. This is ridiculous.”
“Now. I shall carry out the execution.”
Yi Gicheol’s body trembled.
You could see his body trembling even though he was tied up.
A thick rope was placed around Yi Gicheol’s neck.
“No!! No. Save me. I’ll do anything you tell me to.”
Yi Gicheol really looked like he would lick the floor if asked.
He begged for his life with desperate, pitiful eyes.
“Feel wronged?”
“······.”
“The people being judged in your courtroom probably felt the same way. So when you go to hell, apologize to them.”
The rope around Yi Gicheol’s neck pulled taut.
Yi Gicheol was lifted straight up while still tied to the chair.
.
.
.
This was what I was curious about.
If they like Japan so much, why not just go live there?
Then they could live large as Japanese citizens.
I don’t know why they insist on keeping Korean nationality while helping Japan.
I really don’t understand that part.
They have money and social standing, so it wouldn’t be hard to go live in Japan.
I can’t understand that part.
Is there a thrill in being a traitor?
Then I too feel the pleasure of catching them.
Let’s see how far I can take this.