GBH 92

When Choi Se-kyung was 6 years old, Myung-hyun realized that Se-kyung had the same temperament as himself. It was at the scene of an accident where a little girl died. Choi Myung-hyun was the only person who witnessed the entire accident from beginning to end.

On the day of the incident, Myung-hyun had been looking for Se-kyung, concerned about his son complaining of a headache as he left home. When he discovered his son playing with a girl his age on the second-floor railing, Myung-hyun’s lips curved gently, like any father’s would.

But Myung-hyun’s smile didn’t last long. He saw Se-kyung staring at the girl without blinking. It wasn’t an expression a 6-year-old child should have. Se-kyung’s eyes gleamed darkly. Choi Myung-hyun was stunned. He saw himself in his son. Through his son, Myung-hyun confirmed that his own eyes looked like that whenever he planned a crime.

A mere 6-year-old child, without anyone teaching him, was imagining how to kill someone. Just as Myung-hyun himself wasn’t normal, neither was Se-kyung.

The young Se-kyung’s gaze moved from the girl, to her hairpin, to the spiral staircase in order. And when he smiled slightly, Myung-hyun snapped to attention. He hurriedly headed towards the stairs connected to the second floor. His urgent steps gradually widened. They quickened into a run. But before Myung-hyun could stop it, the girl tumbled down the spiral staircase. Se-kyung was behind her.

The girl died.

Although Se-kyung said he didn’t do it, Myung-hyun thought Se-kyung was as good as guilty.

“When Se-kyung was 6, there was an accident where a girl his age died falling down a spiral staircase. The investigation concluded it was an accident where the girl misstepped, but at that young age, Se-kyung was thinking about how to kill the girl. The girl probably died just as Se-kyung had imagined. Because Se-kyung was looking back and forth between the spiral staircase and the girl.”

“……”

“It was an accident, but there was a high possibility it could have been not an accident.”

Usually, Se-kyung disliked the dead girl. He said she was noisy. He said being near her gave him a headache because she was loud. But the noisy person who died in Se-kyung’s life wouldn’t end with just this one girl.

As he goes through life, Se-kyung will meet countless people who give him headaches. And Se-kyung will imagine getting rid of them. Just like he did with the girl.

What happened when he was 6 could repeat itself.

Accidents happen in an instant. They occur in a moment of carelessness. But if Se-kyung caused it, it wouldn’t be an accident, but a crime. Because Choi Se-kyung was always designing cruel crimes. That’s what it meant to live with dolus eventualis.

“Se-kyung is essentially walking a dangerous tightrope in life.”

Moreover, Choi Se-kyung was sensitive. He was sensitive enough to suspect the changed Song Yi-heon was a different person, and to figure out on his own the truth that Kim Deuk-pal’s soul had entered Song Yi-heon’s body. However, being sensitive also meant that many things bothered him.

While under parental protection, they could remove what bothered him, but once he became an adult and entered society, it would be solely Se-kyung’s burden to bear. To prepare for that time, Myung-hyun had to suppress Se-kyung’s sensitivity. He made him endure and cultivate patience. He forced kindness to prevent him from harming others just because they were noisy. He enforced generosity to prevent him from feeling the frustration of having things taken away. He didn’t allow him to learn martial arts that could hurt others, and even opposed the suggested judo lessons.

“I want to remove as much as possible that could endanger Se-kyung. That includes you, Song Yi-heon, who’s connected to organized crime.”

He expected that after saying this much, Song Yi-heon would distance himself, if only out of horror. However, when Song Yi-heon, who had been listening silently, clenched his fist as if enduring an injustice, Myung-hyun raised an eyebrow at the unexpected reaction.

“No. You’re wrong, Prosecutor. That might be true for you, but not for Se-kyung.”

As if feeling wronged himself, Song Yi-heon spoke with clenched fists. His delicate features, backed by stubbornness, looked fierce, as if growling.

“Choi Se-kyung is not the kind of person who would hurt others.”

He was the only one who had been searching for the original Song Yi-heon. Even though he wasn’t close to Song Yi-heon, he was plagued by guilt for losing track of him on a rainy day. He regretted not being able to empathize with and help Song Yi-heon through his pain. It was absurd to think that someone so emotionally rich would harm others.

“Even while hanging out with me, Se-kyung had many opportunities to use violence. But he didn’t. He didn’t hurt anyone.”

“Yes, because that’s how I raised him.”

“If anything, it’s you, Prosecutor, who’s endangering Se-kyung.”

“That’s rich coming from someone who dragged him out late at night to meddle with gangsters.”

Song Yi-heon retorts without backing down an inch. He’s known for his cold demeanor, enough to have built a reputation as a prosecutor who takes down gangsters, making even tough criminals tremble. But when it comes to guts, Song Yi-heon seemed more like a gang boss than a high school student. Amazed by this, Choi Myung-hyun threw out a question off-topic.

“Are you really a high school student?”

“What, should I call you ‘hyung-nim(big brother)’ instead?”

His sarcasm proves he’s no ordinary high schooler. If he weren’t involved with gangs, Myung-hyun might have liked him, but his son was Myung-hyun’s top priority.

“It’s not a bad offer. You could repay your debt to the Chilseong Faction. Seeing how they searched for you all summer, you must feel quite indebted.”

Though he felt sorry for the Chilseong Faction members, Yi-heon had come to cherish the time spent with Se-kyung. Neither was willing to back down, creating a tense atmosphere, but Yi-heon was the first to yield.

What was the point of butting heads with Myung-hyun when he came to ask a favor? Yi-heon ran his fingers through his short hair and lowered his fierce gaze. Keeping quiet would be best, but thinking of Se-kyung made his mouth move on its own.

“…Se-kyung likes you a lot, Prosecutor.”

Se-kyung was good at pretending to be kind, but fundamentally indifferent to others. Yet when talking about Myung-hyun, he would put himself down for not meeting his father’s expectations. It was a typical sign of resignation after long-held hopes were dashed.

“Please let Se-kyung like you freely.”

“I don’t mind being hated as long as Se-kyung is happy.”

Like all parents, Myung-hyun hoped Se-kyung wouldn’t inherit his bad traits.

Perhaps not entirely unaware of Myung-hyun’s feelings, Yi-heon groaned and pressed his temples before finally proposing,

“Then let’s do this. I don’t want to take Se-kyung away from you either.”

“You think I’d let that happen?”

Though he didn’t seem much like a high schooler in many ways, to Myung-hyun he was still a child. Myung-hyun was baffled by Yi-heon’s confidence in his ability to take Se-kyung away.

“Children don’t always do what their parents want. As I said, while I’ve never raised a child, I’ve had many who were like children to me.”

“Coming from a high school student like you, Song Yi-heon, that’s not very credible.”

“I picked up many from the streets. Whether you believe it or not is up to you.”

Did he mean he picked up stray cats? Even if Myung-hyun didn’t understand, Yi-heon didn’t explain further. He just dug his nails into his thigh, trying not to treat Se-kyung like the subordinates he used to pick up like stray cats in his Kim Deuk-pal days.

“Since I’ve become quite close with Se-kyung, if I can persuade him somehow…”

As he said this, Yi-heon buried his face in his hands, seeming troubled, but soon made up his mind, rubbing his face hard and dusting off his palms.

“I think I can get you about 5 minutes of Se-kyung’s time. I can’t promise he’ll take your side, but if you want to mend your relationship with Se-kyung later, I’ll arrange 5 minutes with him then.”

It sounded like he was declaring that Myung-hyun and Se-kyung’s relationship was bound to fall apart, which wasn’t pleasant for Myung-hyun to hear. Yet he couldn’t argue because he too felt his relationship with Se-kyung was strained. He had noticed resentment in Se-kyung’s eyes at some point, but Myung-hyun couldn’t stop his surveillance. Yi-heon’s proposal wasn’t far-fetched.

“Of course, the price is not touching the Chilseong faction.”

Having finished his one-sided proposal with nothing more to say, Song Yi-heon stood up, leaning on the table. Despite the arrogant proposal, his final bow was respectful.

“I’ll take my leave first. Please think it over and contact me.”

As Song Yi-heon was about to leave the study as if he had no regrets, he hesitated before speaking, wondering if he should say this. Choi Myung-hyun remained seated by the window.

“Please don’t push Se-kyung too hard. He’s always saying he’s not good enough when we talk about the prosecutor.”

Choi Myung-hyun frowned, but sighed as if genuinely saddened by that point.

“He’s always my proud son. My treasure.”

For that moment, he was as gentle as a father watching his child take its first steps. At the calm smile recalling something irreplaceably precious, Song Yi-heon looked at the glass window facing the garden. Intense parental love. The blue moonlight tinted it. Looking at Choi Myung-hyun, Song Yi-heon realized why that idiom was written on the window pane.

* * *

Lee Mi-kyung woke up with a terrible headache. Even with her eyes open, it was pitch black. By this time, her eyes should have adjusted to the darkness, distinguishing silhouettes, but there was none of that. She was breathless and drenched in sweat. It was a narrow, dark space, like a rice chest.

It became increasingly difficult to breathe. Trying to inhale repeatedly, her mouth wouldn’t open, only letting out a wheezing nasal sound. The carbon dioxide density increased, and the heat from her body couldn’t circulate, making it hot. Her armpits became damp, and sweat-soaked hair stuck to her forehead.

At that moment, her body, curled up like a shrimp, floated up and sank down. It was the jolt of crossing a speed bump without slowing down. Then came the smell of washer fluid and the low sound of an engine. The space she was trapped in was a car trunk.

Why was she here, where was she going? Lee Mi-kyung tried to recall her memories.

She had heard that Song Yi-heon contacted the chairman and would attend the bazaar. If they were going to kidnap Song Min-seo and put her in a mental hospital, this was the opportunity when she would be alone at home.

Getting rid of Song Min-seo was something agreed upon with the chairman. Song Yi-heon said he cared for Song Min-seo as his mother. The chairman wanted to use the kidnapped Song Min-seo as a hostage to tame Song Yi-heon, while Lee Mi-kyung wanted to get rid of Song Min-seo, who lived off the chairman thanks to her pretty face.

As was her way of handling things, she used the same method this time too. She hired thugs who would do anything for money. Having failed twice to put Song Min-seo in a mental hospital, she pressured the broker, who boasted that this time he had picked truly skilled guys who wouldn’t disappoint.

It wasn’t an exaggeration, as she received a call from a restricted number saying they had kidnapped Song Min-seo and were taking her to the mental hospital.

However, it was too early to rejoice. A call past midnight said Song Min-seo’s condition was critical. They said she was about to die, and indeed, the labored breathing heard over the phone was precarious. Lee Mi-kyung hurriedly grabbed her car keys.

The car she drove and the house she lived in were under Song Min-seo’s name, so it would be troublesome if Song Min-seo died. Inheritance issues would arise, and the changed Song Yi-heon wouldn’t easily sign a renunciation of inheritance.

She entered the address received by text into the navigation and stepped on the accelerator. After wandering for a long time due to the strange address, she arrived at an unpaved road in a mountain village in Gangwon-do, where an old car was parked. The parked car without hazard lights on was suspicious, but Lee Mi-kyung was the one who had ordered that suspiciousness.

Lee Mi-kyung turned on her headlights to illuminate the car. In the trunk, which was wide open, there was indeed a human-sized lump bulging out. Whether Song Min-seo had died while Lee Mi-kyung was coming, violating traffic signals, the lump was covered with a waterproof cloth.

Given the circumstances, that lump in the trunk must be Song Min-seo’s corpse. Lee Mi-kyung gripped the steering wheel to suppress her trembling. Now that Song Min-seo, whom she had always wished dead, was really dead, the aftermath looked bleak. She wondered what those thug bastards had been doing until Song Min-seo died, as they were nowhere to be seen.

Lee Mi-kyung, who had been pressing her chest against the steering wheel, lowered the phone from her ear. The thugs had contacted her from a restricted number, and the broker who had connected them wasn’t answering. In the end, she was the only one who could verify the corpse directly.

The lump covered by the waterproof cloth cast shadows in the light of Lee Mi-kyung’s headlights. The lump seemed to move. The trembling of her foot on the pedal intensified. With equally shaking hands, Lee Mi-kyung pushed open the driver’s side door.

The cool air from the car’s air conditioning spread into the sultry summer night. The sound of cicadas tightened her spine. Lee Mi-kyung stepped out with her red high heels through the slightly opened driver’s seat gap. As she came out, leaning on the car body while unable to take her eyes off the rustling waterproof cloth, a blow to the back of her head made her eyes roll back. That was the last thing she remembered.

“Mmph…”

Inside the trunk, Lee Mi-kyung twisted her shoulders trying to free her arms tied behind her back. As the vibration coming through the floor stopped, so did her struggle. As the trunk opened and the waterproof cloth was removed, the pent-up heat dissipated. Lee Mi-kyung squinted her eyes, avoiding the flashlight illuminating her.

The man shining the phone flashlight lifted the brim of his cap above his eyebrows. His eyes, slanted sharply towards the temples, gave him an ordinary appearance. What made her remember who the man was wasn’t his common features, but his three-syllable name that was so unfashionable it was hard to forget once heard.

“Kim Deuk-pal.”

“…!”

Upon hearing the name of the gangster who died trying to save Song Yi-heon, Lee Mi-kyung’s resistance became more fierce than ever before.