The metal doorknob turned slowly.
A man in his mid-forties, wearing a dark suit, entered the room. He didn't barge in, and he didn't shout. He walked calmly, placed a leather briefcase on the table, and pulled out a single sheet of paper.
"I am the attorney representing Mr. Ji Hun Min."
Inspector Shin Jae Ho took the paper. He read it in silence.
"Medical records," the lawyer said in a monotonous tone, like reading a grocery list. "A clinic in Cheongdam-dong. My client was there all through last night. Documented, and signed by the chief surgeon."
Inspector Shin didn't argue. He knew it was a lie, and the lawyer knew it was a lie. But in this world, a lie stamped by a doctor who treats top politicians is stronger than any truth a violent crimes inspector possesses.
Shin tossed the paper back onto the table. He looked at Ji Hun with a gaze devoid of sympathy, filled only with a familiar, old disgust.
"You can go."
In the hallway outside, the lawyer stopped. He pulled a new smartphone from his pocket and placed it into Ji Hun's good hand.
"Director Han Jae Won took care of this. Use this phone."
The lawyer didn't wait for thanks, and he delivered no speeches. He turned and walked away, just a clerk who had finished some paperwork.
Ji Hun walked out of the station. He stood on the stone steps. The cold air filled his lungs. A patrol car passed, its blue lights reflecting on the wet asphalt. He didn't move. He wasn't thinking. He was just... standing.
Then the phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen. An unknown number. The phone was still cold in his hand. And someone already had the number.
He pressed the answer button.
"Good evening," the voice was relaxed. Kang Sung Joon. "There's a small party tonight in Gangnam. I sent you the location. Don't be late."
The line went dead.
Evening.
The Gangnam club wasn't loud. It was muffled, bathed in dim blue light and the scent of aged alcohol.
Ji Hun entered the private room.
Five people sat around a glass table. The contrast was sharp. Ji Hun walked past them. A woman in a black dress glanced at his medical brace and quickly turned away. A man in a silk shirt laughed too loudly at a joke he hadn't heard. None of them looked at his face. They looked at the damage, like inspecting a car after a devastating crash.
Sung Joon gestured toward an empty seat.
Ji Hun sat down.
"You don't look well," Sung Joon said, pouring himself a drink. He offered nothing. "I heard the police took you, and Han Jae Won's men got you out. You're wasting your time with a man who sees you as a sharp tool he'll use until it breaks."
Ji Hun didn't reply.
Sung Joon leaned in slightly. "Come work for me. I don't use tools, I buy them. I'll pay you double what he pays."
"I have an agreement," Ji Hun said coldly.
Sung Joon paused. He looked at Ji Hun with slight annoyance, like looking at a malfunctioning machine.
"That's stupidity," he said simply. "Han Jae Won can't even protect your past. Last night, your old gym was smashed and he didn't lift a finger. If you worked for me, no one would dare touch a street you walk on."
He wasn't the one who destroyed the gym, but he was feeding on the incident like a vulture feeding on a carcass.
Ji Hun didn't move. He looked directly into Sung Joon's eyes.
"Am I happy now?"
He asked in a completely hollow voice.
Sung Joon paused. He looked into Ji Hun's eyes, searching for fear, or anger, or even pride. But he found nothing. He was looking into an absolute void. The threat or the temptation lost its meaning. You cannot tempt a man who no longer desires anything.
Sung Joon looked away in boredom, waving his hand as if swatting a fly. "Get out."
Ji Hun stood up, and left the room in silence. He didn't look back. Whatever was in that room wasn't for him.
He pushed the heavy club door and stepped out into a side alley. The music died behind him. The silence in the alley was heavier.
He stopped for a moment. In the midst of this darkness, a tiny red dot glowed.
Kang Ha Eun.
She was standing there, leaning against the concrete wall. Her black coat swallowed her in the gloom. She dropped her thin cigarette on the ground and crushed it with her shoe. The exact same scent of luxury tobacco he had found crushed at his doorstep that morning.
"Get in," she said quietly.
She walked toward a car parked at the end of the alley. Ji Hun opened the passenger door and sat down.
She sat behind the wheel. The car drove off.
The silence inside the cabin was heavy. The yellow streetlights passed over their faces in slow alternation.
She didn't ask what happened inside. And she certainly knew about the police.
After fifteen minutes of driving, Ha Eun spoke, her eyes fixed on the road.
"My brother thinks he can buy anything," she said in an emotionless tone. "And Han Jae Won thinks he can break anything."
She stopped at a traffic light. She slowly turned and looked at Ji Hun. Her eyes were cold, scanning the medical brace binding his arm.
"And you are standing between them," she said. "Just make sure you don't get crushed before this is over."
The light turned green.
Ji Hun didn't answer. He turned his head toward the window, watching the city lights blur into faint lines. So did he. He didn't know where the car was taking him. And for the first time, he didn't care.