SW | Chapter 6

The other patients in the hospital room slowly drew their curtains. The sound of the curtain rail scraping from their movements grated on his nerves.

Damn it, this is so embarrassing…

Judo was something he had learned while enduring beatings. He had truly loved it, so he could tolerate the violent culture. But now that he had to let it go, he felt both regret and resentment.

Guk Jiho placed his hand on the blanket. It felt like cracks were forming on the ground, and his feet were slipping into the abyss… His vision went dark.

You’re nothing.

A voice whispered in his head.

What’s so special about being a bright-eyed eighteen-year-old? Everyone was eighteen. Eighteen-year-olds with their heads filled with math, Korean, and English.

He just had a sinking feeling that his life was about to take a terrible turn.

***

I had a sinking feeling that my life was about to take a terrible turn. Looking back, it was a survival crisis I felt just before becoming an adult. I had spent my whole life focused solely on sports, and suddenly my career path had changed.

What should I write next?

He boarded Line 4 and opened the memo app on his phone. He hadn’t made any progress from the sentence he had written two days ago.

Guk Jiho tilted his neck left and right as he stretched, then stared intently at the screen.

It’s not like he was going to submit this anywhere, so maybe he’ll just wing it with some personal anecdotes.

Tomorrow, he had a mentoring lecture for junior special forces officers undergoing training at the Central Police Academy.

As someone who was only in his second year, Guk Jiho wasn’t exactly the right person for this task, but the senior who was originally supposed to give the lecture had been injured during an operation and was now stuck in the hospital, so this “rewarding yet bothersome” task had fallen to him.

“I don’t do that kind of thing.”

“Come on, who else can do it but you?”

“If you say it like that, the others will feel left out.”

“That’s why I’m saying it secretly. I didn’t want to say this, but—”

“Then don’t say it.”

Even when he responded curtly, Senior Min Jaegyu, who had a cast on his leg, launched into a speech.

“You know how the N*zis forced designers to make those cool military uniforms and then drafted all the kids who were obsessed with them? When you look good, people get inspired. You just have to go and say, ‘Work hard,’ and patriotism will surge. Besides, you’re not a N*zi, you’re a special forces senior.”

At his senior’s words, Guk Jiho stomped on the hospital floor in frustration.

“You want me to do it because I’m good-looking? No way.”

“Hey, hey, you’re the top shooter, right? When you go on missions, you outshine all the seniors. You’re practically a textbook example, that’s why I’m asking! Do I really have to spell it out for you? Just listen to me for once!”

“….”

“Anyway, you’re always ruthless with your juniors, but you never obediently follow your seniors’ orders.”

With them putting it that way, it was hard to refuse.

“When did I ever go that hard on them?”

“I can still hear Hansol, Jiseok, and Kyungchul wailing from hell.”

Min Jaegyu, standing behind Guk Jiho with his hands behind his back, looked down at Hansol, Jiseok, and Kyungchul.

“Jiho, look at them now. They’re so scared they can’t even laugh.”

“Guys, did I scare you?”

“No!”

Guk Jiho smirked and looked down at Min Jaegyu, who was lying on his hospital bed. The senior let out a hollow chuckle.

“This station is Dongjak. Dongjak Station. The doors will open on the left.”

A few people got off, freeing up some seats. Seeing an empty seat, Guk Jiho adjusted the bag on his shoulder and sat down, checking the time.

Eleven minutes to Seoul Station. Then transfer to the bus and get off at the police headquarters stop…

The appointment was in two hours. It took about forty minutes from the Namtaeryeong Special Forces office to the police headquarters, but showing up an hour early was a given when the police headquarters called.

Although the special forces were under the jurisdiction of the police headquarters, the two groups rarely mixed. The special forces were the police’s anti-terrorism unit, responsible for handling terrorist situations, but in a country where terrorism wasn’t common, they were often used like mercenaries for dangerous and urgent situations.

While they served as the police’s sharp blade, they didn’t directly intervene in criminal investigations, which often created tension between them and the detectives at headquarters.

So, today’s summons from the police headquarters was unexpected.

They treated the entire unit like mercenaries, so what business could they have with one person?

“The headquarters? Why me…?”

“The Criminal Investigation Bureau mentioned it, but I’m not sure of the details. They specifically asked for you, so go and see what they want.”

“Can I go during work hours?”

“You’re off the day after tomorrow. Make sure it doesn’t interfere with your duties.”

“Yes, sir.”

The commander’s message didn’t provide any hints. All Guk Jiho noticed was that he didn’t seem too pleased.

Did I do something wrong? Even if I did, they’d send an inspector, not summon me directly to headquarters.

Guk Jiho tilted his head for a moment, then returned to his notes.

“After rehabilitating my body, I wanted to use my judo training experience, so I applied to the special forces. Military life suited me, and I didn’t find it particularly difficult.”

The train entered the above-ground section crossing the Han River.

In the early autumn afternoon, high-rise apartments and buildings lined the riverbank like decorations, and the river’s surface sparkled with ripples.

While passengers admired the peaceful scenery outside the window, Guk Jiho remained hunched over.

***

The wooden desk and chair in the director’s office gleamed as if polished with oil. The orchid by the window had withered at the tips of its leaves, and the muddy water in the tray had dried into droplet shapes.

The central table was covered with a green cloth. On top of it laid the map of South Korea marked by regions and the police headquarters’ goals.

The director’s office was located at the very back of the Criminal Investigation Bureau. It had no extravagant decor, but it exuded the solemn air of a sanctuary where only a few could enter.

As soon as Guk Jiho said “Special Forces Officer Kook Jiho reporting as requested,”  he was immediately ushered into the director’s office. He felt out of place, so he fiddled with his tie.

He should have worn his uniform. Who would have thought he’d be meeting the director one-on-one?

“Have a drink.”

Jang Eunhyung, the director of the Criminal Investigation Bureau in her early sixties, was in full uniform. Her chest was adorned with numerous medals, and each side of her collar bore a taegeuk¹ and a mugunghwa emblem.

She took a can of orange juice from the mini-fridge and placed it in front of Guk Jiho.

“Thank you.”

His hands were clammy, so he just held the cold can. Director Jang urged him.

“Why aren’t you drinking?”

“Ah, I’ll drink it now.”

Director Jang Eunhyung watched intently as the young man opened the can and took a sip.

“Drink while you listen.”

There was no way he could drink while the director was speaking, so Guk Jiho quickly set the can down.

“There’s an important operation. The police have been working on it for eight years now.”

She got straight to the point without any small talk, her gaze unwavering.

“Yes, Director.”

“The problem is, every time we send our detectives in, they end up dead.”

“Is that so?”

“Three have died. Of course, we questioned the person in charge of the deployment. And you know what they said? ‘Send someone who can handle themselves.’ He was blaming the dead officers.”

The pace was too fast. Even though her tone was slow, Guk Jiho felt like he was scrambling to keep up with what she was saying. 

“Yes…”

First of all, it didn’t make sense for the two of them to be meeting like this, and sharing operational details was way above his pay grade.

“Special forces officers are good with their bodies, right? And they make quick judgments.”

The director dipped her tea bag into hot water. As the tea spread, her intentions became clear.

So, she wanted to deploy a special forces officer for this operation.

Guk Jiho pushed the juice can aside and leaned forward. He only drank this stuff before workouts, he wouldn’t even touch it otherwise.

“Does our commander know about this?”

“Hmm… Don’t worry about that. Of course, we’ve politely asked for your cooperation.”

That meant the commander couldn’t protect him. Feeling his blood run cold, Guk Jiho spoke up hastily.

“Director, I still have a lot to learn. I’m not ready for such an important mission…”

“We’ve looked into everything. There are some areas where you’re lacking, but Officer Guk Jiho, you’re the most suitable person for what we need.”

“Do I have the right to refuse?”

“I heard you’re quite skilled with firearms. You use them often, and you’ve even tend to overdo it sometimes, right?”

Director Jang Eunhyung casually remarked as she removed the tea bag and set it aside.

“I’ve never fired without orders.”

“This isn’t America. What situation in South Korea requires the police to use guns? We’d have to investigate whoever gave that order. The older you get, the more skeletons you have in your closet, so it’s easy to strip you of your rank².”

Director Jang’s voice sounded like that of someone in their thirties or forties. Her speech was clear and smooth, almost as if she were deliberately modulating her tone. It felt like she was setting a trap, waiting for her prey to fall in…

Either do as you’re told, or drag me and many others into despair.

Guk Jiho realized he only had two choices. It was a tired old threat often used in hierarchical organizations.

“…If the mission succeeds, will I get a special promotion?”

Guk Jiho asked in a half-resigned tone.

An operation that had been ongoing for over eight years, a flagship project of the police headquarters. Only small, elite teams were deployed, and it was so dangerous and secretive that three detectives had died.

If it were related to North Korea, it would fall under the National Intelligence Service’s jurisdiction… So what was it?

“Officer Guk, you’re currently a police sergeant, right?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“I’ll promise you a three-rank promotion.”

A three-rank promotion… to police lieutenant. That’s a position that would normally take decades to achieve through standard procedures. Guk Jiho’s face stiffened at the director’s extraordinary offer.

“Director…”

“Don’t get emotional yet.”

“I’m not emotional yet.”

“I see you’re not easily moved.”

Director Jang tilted her head and looked at the young man with a bored expression. To her, this back-and-forth was just another nuisance.

“Nothing good comes easy in this world.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“…Is this an undercover operation in a gang?”

The director took a sip of her tea and smiled faintly.