GBH 90

As the sound of the bathroom door opening was heard, Se-kyung, who had been leaning against the wall, straightened up. SongYi-heon, emerging from behind the frosted glass door, also noticed Se-kyung and stopped drying his hands.

The bathroom he had just left was where he had been tormenting the chairman, playing with him, and where the chairman had been screaming for his life. Displeased that Se-kyung had heard that unsightly scene, Song Yi-heon looked at him like a cat irritably tapping its tail on the floor.

His already sharp eyes looked feline, and when the pupils within them also became like those of an angry cat, Se-kyung smiled faintly. He approached and brushed Song Yi-heon’s cheek. Blood stained his thumb. A droplet of blood that had splattered unnoticed was wiped away.

Though Se-kyung said nothing, Song Yi-heon offered an excuse first.

“I just scared him.”

He had only cut areas that could be seamlessly stitched up with the chairman’s wealth. If the chairman were to press charges against Song Yi-heon, he’d have to reveal the reason Song Yi-heon had wielded the knife, which would be disadvantageous to him. The fact that an illegitimate child had attacked his biological father would be like spitting in his own face if it hit the media.

Since he had cut in a way that could be managed, the chairman would be angry but wouldn’t make a big deal out of it.

But after saying this, feeling like he was making excuses to avoid Se-kyung misunderstanding him, Song Yi-heon awkwardly changed the subject.

“Hey, Choi Se-kyung.”

“Yes?”

“Let me meet your father.”

Song Yi-heon’s eyes shone with determination. It was time to resolve something else now.

* * *

The engine of the black vehicle that arrived at the garage after midnight turned off. As the headlights went out, the garage faded into darkness. Choi Myung-hyun, who got out of the driver’s seat, climbed the spiral staircase leading to the living room.

His return home was late. Though one might feel tired or irritated at finishing the day past midnight, Myung-hyun was impassive. His lack of emotion made him seem like a stone statue. Like a statue left alone in a deep forest, enveloped by green moss, silently enduring in its place.

Myung-hyun’s life wasn’t about integrity, but obsession.

Knowing that his way of thinking was different from normal people, the obsession to live like an ordinary person dominated his life.

It probably wasn’t antisocial personality disorder. Just teetering on the edge. That’s what Myung-hyun believed. That he was a person straddling the line between a murderer and a normal person, and that he still belonged in the category of normal people since he hadn’t committed any crimes.

He entered law school because he needed to establish clear standards for what was a crime and what wasn’t. That way, he thought he wouldn’t cross the line. What others knew without being taught, Myung-hyun learned through study.

But when he felt a sense of kinship with confessions of murderers, his efforts to be normal seemed ridiculous. He found murderers who were brought to trial pathetic. How careless. Why get caught? While mocking murderers, he would plot the perfect crime.

When such thoughts arose unconsciously and the desire to act on them stirred, he realized how different he was from others. The more he felt this way, the more he suppressed himself.

Meeting his current wife in this life constricted by obsession was a miracle. Unlike him, his wife was a free spirit. If she hadn’t been the only Korean he met abroad, he wouldn’t have even struck up a conversation. His marriage was an inexplicable mystery and blessing in Myung-hyun’s life.

When their child was born, he experienced what he thought was a unique miracle for the second time. The day he held newborn Se-kyung in his arms, Myung-hyun was convinced he was normal. For the first time, he empathized with another person’s emotions. He could understand what people called paternal love without needing an explanation.

His enduring life changed. Myung-hyun, who had been enduring to avoid crossing the line from normal to murderer, now refrained from crossing that line to protect his family.

Everything was perfect. What tightened his loosening obsession again was his lovable son, who was 6 years old at the time. The memory of confessing in his wife’s arms that it was his fault after that incident is still vivid.

Myung-hyun, who had paused for a moment holding the doorknob to his study, turned the handle as if shaking off all memories. He felt for the light switch but didn’t flip it on. He entered and closed the door, guarding the doorway.

“……”

As the light from the hallway was blocked, the silhouettes of furniture became clearer in the darkened room as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

And who the man sitting in the moonlight streaming through the study window was.

The man was actually a boy. He didn’t recognize him immediately because he was wearing a suit instead of his usual school uniform or athletic wear, but it was a familiar face. On the window pane, the characters ‘舐犢之愛’ (meaning “a parent’s love for their child”) written in permanent marker by Myung-hyun’s wife cast a shadow like a tattoo under Song Yi-heon’s eyes in the moonlight.

His footsteps were muffled by the carpet. As Myung-hyun approached, Song Yi-heon, who had been maintaining eye contact, bowed his waist.

“Good evening, Prosecutor.”

It wasn’t the greeting one would give to a friend’s father, and Myung-hyun didn’t treat Song Yi-heon as Se-kyung’s friend either. A normal high school student wouldn’t visit a friend’s father’s study after midnight. Perhaps he had anticipated a day like this since meeting Song Yi-heon at the morgue.

“How did you get in here?”

“I asked your son.”

Song Yi-heon answered readily, but Myung-hyun didn’t let his guard down. His gaze slowly scanned Song Yi-heon from head to toe, pausing at his wrist. Seeing Myung-hyun looking at his wristwatch, Song Yi-heon hid it behind his back. Perhaps because it was given by Se-kyung, he felt uncomfortable showing it.

Pretending not to recognize the watch, Myung-hyun asked, “Where is Se-kyung now?”

“In his room upstairs.”

Myung-hyun relaxed a bit at Song Yi-heon’s additional words.

“He’s safe. Not injured either.”

Myung-hyun placed his briefcase on the tea table. As he sat on a single-seat sofa, Song Yi-heon returned to the sofa where he had been waiting.

“Thank you for what you did at the morgue.”

“……”

With Choi Se-kyung, the connecting factor, absent, the two men’s attitudes towards each other changed. Neither found this strange. Their polite behavior in front of Se-kyung had been closer to acting. Neither a prosecutor nor a gangster would welcome cordial conversation between them.

It was better to exchange purposes quickly. To Myung-hyun, while Song Yi-heon wasn’t a gangster, he was someone connected to gangsters, so he continued the conversation as if interrogating.

“What’s your relationship with the gangster I saw at the morgue?”

“A complete stranger.”

“You seemed quite upset to a stranger.”

“Well… he died trying to save me.”

Song Yi-heon attached a plausible excuse to his reaction at the morgue. However, it was just plausible enough, not fully convincing to Myung-hyun. Not lowering his suspicious gaze, Myung-hyun asked about his purpose.

“You must have a reason for seeking me out.”

“I came to offer you help, Prosecutor.”

“Whether it’s helpful or not is for me to judge.”

“It will be helpful.”

Song Yi-heon stated with certainty. Myung-hyun had heard that Song Yi-heon’s personality had changed significantly since last winter break, and indeed, he didn’t seem like an ordinary high school student.

“You’ve repeatedly missed the heroin smuggling routes, haven’t you?”

He was also mentioning information a high school student shouldn’t know. Myung-hyun’s hand, resting on the sofa armrest, tensed.

“Do you know about the marijuana cultivation by the guys operating in Dongdaemun? Loan sharks playing with money, illegal gambling dens operating brazenly – it’s frustrating that you can’t see what’s right in front of you.”

Song Yi-heon detailed crimes various organizations had been hiding. It was a kind of internal whistleblowing about which organization was doing what and where. In a world crawling with dirty characters, secrets were hard to keep. They knew each other’s dirty deeds, holding them as leverage to keep mouths shut.

But another organization had betrayed them first. Kim Deuk-pal wasn’t foolish enough to maintain loyalty after being betrayed, so he informed the other organizations that had backstabbed him.

“……”

It was up to Myung-hyun whether to believe it or not. But given his nature, now that he knew, he wouldn’t just let it go. He’d at least stir things up a bit.

Myung-hyun, who had been staring as if trying to see through Song Yi-heon, stroked his chin. The stubble that had grown late into the night felt rough. His lips, brushed by his long fingers, moved.

“What about Chilseong-pa?”

“……”

“I can’t imagine that the organization is clean.”

Myung-hyun knew from having Se-kyung tailed that Song Yi-heon had been visiting Chilseong-pa. Among the organizations Song Yi-heon had informed on, Chilseong-pa was absent. In other words, this information was for Chilseong-pa’s benefit. However, Myung-hyun had no reason to turn a blind eye specifically to Chilseong-pa.

“It’s a defunct organization. The Chilseong-pa leader is dead, and the members are scattered. Even if you arrest them, there’s no one left to hold responsible.”

“So, while I round up the other organizations, you plan to gather Chilseong-pa members and rebuild it?”

Song Yi-heon clenched his fist on his thigh. He had expected Myung-hyun to catch on, but he hadn’t anticipated being instantly seen through, and tension ran down his spine. To be precise, he had been planning to reclaim the business that had been taken.

He thought he could reclaim the stolen business by taking advantage of the moment when other organizations, which had seized Chilseong-pa’s operations, were weakened while evading prosecution. It was also revenge against the other organizations that had backstabbed them.

“Who are you, Song Yi-heon? Who are you to know information that even I, an active prosecutor, don’t know?”

Myung-hyun fired off questions, seemingly not wanting to give Song Yi-heon time to scheme. Perhaps not wanting to be swayed by Song Yi-heon, his sharp gaze over his glasses and quickened speech were aggressive.

“That’s……”

While it didn’t matter if the chairman discovered his identity since they’d never meet again, it was different with Myung-hyun. For Se-kyung’s sake, he didn’t want Myung-hyun to find out about his soul switch. He hoped to end up being seen as just an unusual high school student, even if it raised suspicions.

As Song Yi-heon was about to make up a story about hearing it from Kim Deuk-pal before he died at the accident scene, Myung-hyun cut him off.

“Never mind, you’re unlikely to tell the truth anyway. I’ll find out how you knew by myself. More importantly-.”

Normally, Myung-hyun would have pressed for the source of Song Yi-heon’s information that even he, a prosecutor, couldn’t uncover. But Myung-hyun had a more pressing concern. Song Yi-heon’s gangster connections and knowledge, along with Se-kyung’s watch on Song Yi-heon’s wrist. As he sensed that Se-kyung’s erratic behavior this year was connected to Song Yi-heon, concerns about gangsters faded from his mind.

“What’s your relationship with Se-kyung?”

As if his previous expressionlessness had been leniency towards Song Yi-heon, his dark eyes, which had been as calm as a sleeping night sea, now roiled like a storm.