IBP Prologue Part 5
by AoiI stopped by my usual bar. As I opened the door in my investigator uniform, I immediately drew attention. I’ll be honest, that’s why I came. Some people turned their heads uncomfortably or even left the bar, but most glanced at me with favor, curiosity, and admiration.
Ordinary people don’t know the difference between office work and field work. They just think all investigators are special agents who crack down on anti-establishment figures. That’s because there’s little difference in the uniforms.
‘There’s nothing more convenient for an office worker like me.’
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While investigators are admired by the public, there’s also an underlying fear. In short, just wearing the uniform filters out most of the troublemakers.
Although sometimes, if I’m unlucky, no one approaches me, and I just sip my drink alone and go home pathetically.
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“Hello!”
Today, my luck wasn’t bad. I quickly scanned the man who greeted me as he sat down next to me. I inwardly admired him. He had reason to be confident. He was about my height and quite handsome. His style was good, and above all, he was well-groomed. I glanced at his neatly trimmed nails and smiled.
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“Hello.”
“May I sit next to you?”
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The man introduced himself as Kiboose. It was an unusual name. He said, as if accustomed to it, “I like my name. It’s easy to remember.”
I inwardly agreed, but like the last domino you just have to topple, I felt an urge to poke at this man.
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“Haven’t you ever thought that it’s too unique and therefore harder to remember?”
“This face?”
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Kiboose cheekily rested his chin on his hand. I laughed out loud. Even though I had only known him for a short while, I quite liked him. He was talkative and sociable.
“It’s so cool that you’re an investigator. When I was young, I dreamed of studying hard and becoming an investigator, too.”
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“Haha, I see. So, what did you become? An orthopedic surgeon? That’s also very cool!”
As we continued our small talk, I suddenly remembered something and asked,
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“Do you have a tattoo on your clavicle, by any chance?”
The man replied with a resounding “Yes!” and opened his shirt collar. My eyes widened. The clearly inscribed letters were identical to mine. I showed him mine by pulling aside my uniform, and the man jumped up. Ignoring his fuss, I muttered to myself,
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“Lettering tattoos were quite trendy.”
“Even if they were trendy, it’s the same word. Maybe there’s something between us?”
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“Isn’t that pick-up line too cheesy, even for a face like yours?”
“With a face like mine, I can get away with it.”
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Chuckling, we left the bar together. The sky was already dark. Suitably intoxicated and with a clear mutual understanding, there was no need to wander. We just had to decide whether to go to Hotel A, which had a large and clean bathroom, or Hotel B, which had a large and comfortable bed.
Since both places weren’t far, located on opposite sides of the street, we decided to just start walking in that general direction. We walked for a while, exchanging jokes.
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Thwack!
With a dull thud, Kiboose collapsed forward. The feeling of his arm, which had been around my waist, slowly slipping away made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
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Even though I was an office worker, I was still an investigator. I quickly turned, trying to assess the situation…
Crackle!
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…I couldn’t. I was shocked by the taser that jabbed into my side.
There wasn’t just one!
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My convulsing body collapsed. In my blurring vision, I saw Kiboose, lying motionless and unconscious.
“Let’s see.”
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Thick hands rummaged through my hair.
“What the… It’s clean? Where did this bastard hide the chip?”
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“He’s in his twenties, so it’s the clavicle. Turn him over. There it is. He even marked it kindly…”
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***
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My head was clear for the first time in a while. I felt refreshed and relaxed, like a weekend morning after sleeping in, but it didn’t last long. The place I was lying in was uncomfortable.
It was cold, hard, and smelled strange. What kind of bed is this? …Is it not a bed? Did I roll off while sleeping? Even the floor seems a bit much. Kiboose, was it? That guy, despite looking decent, bringing me to such a shady motel…
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I woke up as if splashed with cold water.
Gasp!
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I inhaled sharply and sat up with a start. A rusty, dirty metal plate was supposed to be the ceiling.
Groan.
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Clang. Clang.
“Ugh.”
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A deafening engine noise, footsteps echoing off the metal ceiling, all sorts of noises assaulted my ears.
The last memory flooded back. Coupled with my current situation, I was dumbfounded.
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I was in an enclosed space of about 23 square feet. The walls, pieced together with rusty screws and metal plates, jutted in and out irregularly, and some had metal pipes of unknown purpose attached to them.
I wasn’t the only one trapped. The old, cold warehouse was full of naked men. Just counting roughly, there were over thirty.
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Those who were awake were all huddled up, sitting with their backs against the wall, and those who had lost consciousness were scattered in the center like dead fish. I had been one of them.
I have to move. I have to think. I’m good at that, right? Using my head. But my brain had gone on strike, and my mind went blank.
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What was imprinted on my retina were tattoos. On the clavicles, the left clavicles, of the men lying as if dead, the same phrase was seemingly stamped.
Although it was hard to see because they were huddled, those sitting against the walls probably had the same thing. I swallowed hard.
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‘This isn’t simple human trafficking.’
As I covered my face with my anxious palms, I noticed something strange.
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I didn’t have my glasses. I didn’t have my glasses, but even in this place, with only a fist-sized incandescent bulb hanging from the ceiling as a light source, I could see clearly.
Confusion and fear choked me. At that moment, the warehouse shook. It felt like gravity had been halved. A strange, nauseating sway that could never be felt on land.
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‘…A ship.’
Goosebumps erupted all over my body. The words of my fellow investigators struck my paralyzed brain.
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‘They mainly receive fully grown ones from factories outside the city, but they also kidnap men from within the city and drag them off as slaves. Before arriving on the island, they’ve already undergone basic body modification, so they can withstand all sorts of harsh treatment and bizarre acts.’
My suddenly clear vision without glasses. My strangely languid body. Despite what I had just experienced, there was no fatigue, pain, or paralysis.
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What if I had been unconscious for longer than I thought? Long enough for body modification surgery to take place.
Gasp. Heave.
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I realized the ragged breathing I heard was coming from me. With a trembling face, I repeatedly wiped around my eyes and mouth. There was no doubt.
This ship—
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Thud. With a dull impact somewhere, the shaking subsided. At the same time, there was a commotion above.
Soon, what I thought was part of the wall burst open, and armed men poured in.
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“Come out.”
“..…”
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They roughly dragged out those who were awake and even more roughly woke those who hadn’t yet regained consciousness. A man, kicked by a boot, groaned and curled up.
I obediently went outside. I could see a small pier, accompanied by the smell of salt. An empty beach with no sign of life, armed soldiers, and the endlessly stretching sea.
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My ominous suspicions were confirmed. I swallowed hard. I didn’t know if my dry throat was due to anxiety or dehydration.
Then there was a commotion inside. I heard shouts of “Let go!” and a moment later,
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Rat-a-tat-tat!
There were sounds like popping beans and screams, then silence. Someone grabbed my arm. A stranger pressed their naked body against mine, but I couldn’t push them away.
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Soon, the armed men dragged out several bodies by their feet. Crimson trails marked the path where the limp bodies had been dragged.
They threw the bodies overboard. White and red bodies floated in the shallow water.
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The naked people couldn’t take their eyes off the surreal and violent scene.