BITM Ch13

“Volunteering is quite common, but it’s rare to see people work with such dedication as the folks from Nuri Church. I suppose it’s because your deacon is such a good person that those following him share his heart.”

A good person, huh… Jang Joontae had pulled off his identity laundering perfectly.

Ding, ding. The washing machine signaled that the cycle was complete. Han Naeyung opened the circular lid and pulled out the blankets packed tightly inside. The director also picked up one of the blankets, and they headed to the courtyard, where a laundry line was strung up.

It wasn’t cold enough for frost to form, so they draped the blankets over the taut line and gave them a few firm shakes. The scent of fabric softener dispersed into the breeze.

“Excuse me…”

The director, busy shaking out the blankets, didn’t hear him. Han Naeyung raised his voice slightly.

“Director.”

“Yes?”

After glancing around to make sure no one else was nearby, Han Naeyung continued in an even tone.

“Have there ever been instances of the children disappearing?”

“Disappearing…? Ah, you mean kids running away?”

The director shook his head.

“Yes, some of them do run away now and then. It’s because they hate the situation of living in an institution. I’ve been running this place for over ten years now, and it’s become harder to manage the kids as the years go by. It’s not like the old days when everyone was struggling to survive. These days, what kid doesn’t have a phone? Even five-year-olds throw tantrums, yelling, ‘Director, buy me a phone!’”

Listening to him, it was clear how different things were compared to his own childhood, a time when having a phone was an impossible dream.

Sarangwon provided a well-balanced diet and snacks for the children, ensuring they were well-fed.

“And the kids who run away…?”

“Most either return after a few days or never come back. It’s one of the two.”

“If they never come back, isn’t there a chance they might get caught up in something dangerous?”

“That’s possible, but the older ones seem to find their place in society somehow.”

“Have any young children ever gone missing?”

As he wondered if he should have phrased the question differently, the director let out a hearty laugh.

“Haha, no, the younger kids don’t usually have such big complaints. It’s only when they grow older and realize what they’re lacking that they decide to leave.”

If he wasn’t lying, that meant no young child had ever gone missing. Still, Han Naeyung couldn’t shake the suspicion that this director might be in league with Jang Joontae. Just because someone’s presence didn’t feel repulsive didn’t mean they were good. After all, only he could sense the scent of another’s breath.

As a child, he had casually mentioned this strange sense to Jaemin, who had merely responded with confusion. Perhaps this was just another instinct of his, like how he sometimes had prophetic dreams or an unsettling intuition that proved accurate. Through others’ breaths, he felt it.

“…Hyung.”

Startled, he snapped his head up, realizing he’d been absentmindedly shaking out a blanket.

“What are you thinking so deeply about?”

“Just… wondering if there’s anything else to do.”

“The laundry’s done now. Why don’t you head inside and warm up?”

The director, also feeling the cold, cupped his hands near his mouth and blew into them. Despite having gloves on, Han Naeyung’s hands felt damp. He stepped into the main building, removing his shoes at the entrance. The floor of the children’s residence was warm beneath his feet.

Looking for something else to do, he wandered around picking up scattered toys. Suddenly, a child dashed up from behind and clung to his thigh.

Han Naeyung, surprised, looked down to see a small child gazing up at him with mischievous eyes.

“Try walking!”

“…What?”

“Walk with me hanging on! I’m light, really!”

“…Alright.”

With the small child clinging to his leg, Han Naeyung resumed tidying up the floor. The child laughed gleefully, seemingly enjoying himself. Han Naeyung reached down and patted the little one’s head, planning to tidy up the child’s hair with his bare hand after removing his gloves.

“The kids seem very fond of you, Hyungje-nim.”

The voice came from beyond the door. Jang Joontae appeared, holding a child who looked about six years old.

For a moment, Han Naeyung’s eyelids trembled with unease. The child, seemingly familiar with Jang Joontae, pinched his cheek and tugged at his hair playfully.

“Hyung, move faster!”

The child on his leg urged him, but Han Naeyung paused, adjusting his gloves. Losing interest in his stillness, the child eventually slid off his leg and ran toward Jang Joontae, latching onto his.

“Haha, this one’s as rowdy as ever.”

Jang Joontae took a biscuit from his pocket and handed it to the child, who eagerly tore open the wrapper and took a bite. Part of the biscuit broke off and fell to the ground.

“You dropped it again. Pick it up and throw it in the trash.”

The child pouted but picked up the broken piece. When the child tried to eat it instead of throwing it away, Jang Joontae stopped him.

“I told you not to eat what falls on the floor.”

“Damn it, filthy brat. You dropped it, so you lick it up yourself.”

It was what the man had said when he’d made him vomit. Whenever he was in a foul mood, he found ways to nitpick and make things worse.

Han Naeyung clenched his jaw, holding back the nausea that threatened to rise.

It felt as though his entire body was burning, from his toes to the top of his head. Though his expression remained blank, he wanted to scream and tear at his hair like a madman.

He had to inflict a pain worse than this on the man. Otherwise, he wouldn’t survive.

You have no idea, do you? That your original sin is standing here, right in front of you.

There was no need for scales to weigh it. He would grip the swords of revenge in both hands and thrust them into the man’s throat. Cage him, rip out his tongue, cut it again and again, severing his limbs…

“Brother, is something the matter?”

Jang Joontae asked as he took the biscuit from the child.

“Nothing at all.”

Han Naeyung softly replied, running a hand over his face. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch upward, distorted by the intrusive imagination. Swallowing hard, he forced his breathing to steady.

“Aren’t they adorable?”

Jang Joontae stepped closer to the window where Han Naeyung stood.

“Watching them, I feel like my soul is being cleansed. But Hyungnim, what line of work are you in?”

Jang Joontae put down the child who had been fussing in his arms. Han Naeyung spoke before the silence stretched too long.

“I’m a veterinarian.”

“Oh, that’s admirable! Saving animals—that’s a noble pursuit. I often wish I had pursued more education myself.”

“What kind of work do you do?”

“Ha, I’m just a humble preacher.”

Han Naeyung turned his head to look down at the shorter man.

“What did you do before becoming a preacher?”

“Before that… I just scraped by with day labor, barely making ends meet.”

If he hadn’t been breathing through his mouth, he might have vomited on the spot. Jang Joontae wore a faintly bitter expression as he gazed out the window.

“I’ve committed many sins.”

Han Naeyung forced a smile to his lips.

“I’ve sinned as well.”

And I will continue to do so.

“In that case, you must repent deeply.”

After I kill you.

“I intend to.”

Forgiveness was never something he sought. He had walked through hell his entire life, so falling into the real thing wouldn’t make any difference.

Jang Joontae, who had been watching Han Naeyung, eventually turned his head.

“Well, Hyungnim, I should get back to helping with the chores.”

As soon as he finished speaking and turned to leave, there was a loud thud from behind. The sound came from a high school-aged boy jumping down from a locker he had perched on, his uniform giving away his age. The boy ambled over casually and sneered.

“What a pain.”

“…”

“Not you, Hyung.”

The boy gave Han Naeyung a once-over before blowing a large bubble with his gum, letting it pop loudly.

“That preacher guy or whatever. He’s so freaking annoying.”

“…Why?”

“Because he only gives me five bucks for allowance and then acts all smug about it. My friends expect me to treat them, but I have to mooch off them all the time. It’s humiliating.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“There’s more.”

When Han Naeyung showed interest, the boy spat his gum into a trash can and held out his hand.

“Pay up, and I’ll tell you.”

The boy snatched Han Naeyung’s wallet before he could protest, pulling out two bills and waving them teasingly before pressing them to his lips. Though his face was obscured, the smirk was unmistakable.

“The other reason? He just looks so damn punchable. Hyung, you better watch out for scammers. You’re too easy to take money from.”

“…Treat your friends to something nice.”

That had been the only reason he didn’t stop the boy from taking the money. Han Naeyung shoved his wallet back into his pocket.

* * *

A group of children huddled around a patch of muscari flowers in full bloom.

The long flower stalks, blooming from the base upwards, seemed like they would chime if tapped. The deep lilac hues swayed gently in the breeze, releasing a subtle musk fragrance.

Two children sniffed at the flowers, their noses twitching. One propped his chin on his hand.

“Hyung, why do flowers smell nice?”

Standing beside them, I looked down at their tiny heads, amused. The child with his chin propped nudged the other, urging him to answer quickly. After fidgeting for a moment, the other child replied in a voice as soft as cotton candy.

“Because flowers breathe too.”

“Flowers breathe!?”

Startled, the first child fell back onto his bottom, his mouth agape.

“Everything alive in the world breathes. That’s why we can’t step on or kill them. It stops their breathing.”

The child looked up at me expectantly, seeking confirmation.

I scratched my cheek awkwardly under their gaze. The other child stood, dusting himself off, and ran off toward another flower bed. Watching him go, the remaining child held out his hand to me, clearly asking for help to get up. I couldn’t help but smile.

Despite being so shy at first, he had now completely opened up to me, which filled me with joy. As I reached to take his hand and called his name—

I flinched.

* * *

It felt like waking from a nightmare, sweat drenching his body as if he’d been pinned down by sleep paralysis.

“Why does this keep happening lately?”

Jin muttered to himself. He had dozed off on a foldable latex cot about an hour earlier. As he opened his eyes, the harsh glare of a fluorescent light stung his vision.

After being unable to go home and only stopping by a sauna for a quick shower, Jin’s hair was messy. He chuckled at the thought: If I end up dying suddenly, at least would they handle the workplace accident insurance properly?

“Doctor Han is too much,” Jin muttered again to himself as he climbed out of bed. It had been weeks since he’d last seen her, with no contact in between. Not that they were ever in the habit of sweetly exchanging messages.

Even when he tried to squeeze in time after work to see her, either the hospital was closed, or Han Naeyung was already in dreamland. Jin left the break room and headed to the prosecutor’s office. Both Seon Wookjae and Lee Inyeong looked exhausted, their eyes wide like startled rabbits. Jin pointed to the door for Lee Inyeong, the next in line.

“Go get an hour of sleep.”

“I’ll just tough it out. If I sleep, I’m afraid I won’t wake up.”

“Then can I take an extra nap for you?”

“Chief, do you know how annoying you’ve been lately?”

“Wait until you’re my age. Sitting for an hour makes your whole body ache.”

“Put on a pain relief patch.”

It was 5 PM. After an all-nighter, everyone looked eager to leave work early for once. Jin focused his attention on the documents piled on his desk.

Case No. 23 – Ogeori Victim

The file contained details of the victim’s familial ties, personal relationships, and criminal records. The victim, Song Iljae, was a two-time convict known for blackmail and extortion. Going back further, around 20 years ago, he had served time for something even more heinous:

Charges of facilitating child and women’s prostitution

Perhaps due to fatigue, Jin had to double-check the words blurred before him.

“Prosecutor, I remembered when I saw this file—I’ve encountered that scumbag before,” Seon Wookjae said, setting down a cup of coffee for Jin and gesturing to the documents.

“You know this victim?”

“I saw him during one of my first cases after joining. Of course, the details weren’t as explicit back then… but Song Iljae was likely just a lackey at the time.”

“Are you referring to the prostitution case mentioned in these records?”

“Yes, the prosecution office was in an uproar back then. Since the witness was a child, the trial was held behind closed doors. If you look at the bottom of this document, the summary of the trial should be there.”

Jin rummaged through the papers and found the trial file. The crisp white pages made it seem like a freshly printed copy.

– 11th Criminal Division Ruling –
Case: xx District Court – Sentence on xx.xx.19xx Case No. 19xxrk64 (Presiding Judge: Chief Judge Han Sungwon)

Order:
Under Criminal Law Chapter 2, Section 31, Articles 287–290:

Defendant Jang Seongjun: 12 years

Defendant Lee Kyungchul: 12 years

Defendant Song Iljae: 5 years

Defendant Lee Chulwoo: 5 years

“Why is this trial record so sparse?”

“It wasn’t as systematic back then. Over time, some documents probably went missing. You know how it was—those days made it easy to smuggle files out,” Seon Wookjae replied nonchalantly as Jin flipped the pages.

“Still, why is the witness name blank in the record?”

“Huh? It’s blank?”

Seon Wookjae paused mid-step and returned to Jin’s side.

Witness: 000

Adjusting his glasses, Seon Wookjae confirmed the blank section Jin pointed to.

“Oh! That witness was one of the victims. I believe the witness protection program was applied later, after it was introduced domestically.”

Though Seon Wookjae had handled tens of thousands of cases, he still recalled this one vividly—it was his first. Jin, knowing this, refrained from pressing further.

“This case is from 20 years ago, so it likely has no direct connection to the current Ogeori incident, but I thought it might help to have it reviewed,” Seon Wookjae added.

Jin pushed the old trial documents aside.

“Investigation Clerk, did we receive the CCTV footage?” Jin asked.

Lee Inyeong nodded.

“It’s supposed to be analyzed by tomorrow morning, and then we’ll have it.”

“Do you think the perpetrator will really show up again?”

“You can’t rule out even the smallest possibility.”

“That’s true…”

Lee Inyeong swallowed back a remark about how their workload was already overwhelming. After about an hour of document review, Jin clapped his hands.

“Alright, let’s call it a day. Go home, clean up, and let’s meet tomorrow with fresh faces.”

Relieved, Lee Inyeong stretched and declared freedom. Seon Wookjae quickly grabbed his coat and dashed out, eager to see his late-born child. Jin also had errands to run. It was a little past 6:02 PM.

Jin rushed to the parking lot, calculating his route. Stopping by his brother’s house would take over an hour, so he needed to move quickly.

He regretted having left his dog, Nari, with his brother after not being able to come home properly for over a week. Hopefully, the animal hospital was still open late. Arriving at his destination, the clock neared 7 PM.

Jin parked by the fence and stepped out of the car.

Woof! Woof woof! Nari greeted him enthusiastically, wagging her tail and drooling as she stood on her hind legs. Though her chain was long, it didn’t reach the front door. Jin keyed in the gate code, glancing at the nameplate hanging to the side.

Tapping the nameplate, which bore both his and his brother’s names, Jin chuckled.

“What a twisted sense of humor.”

Jin picked up the overexcited Nari, tucked her under his arm, and headed back to the car. His brother wasn’t home yet, judging by the darkened house.

Jin’s hands were soon covered in dog drool, which he wiped with tissues before grabbing the wheel. Memories of living with his brother during his internship as a prosecutor flashed through his mind. Though he’d moved out after being assigned to a different district office, seeing the nameplate still up made him smile wryly. His brother’s persistence—even over petty things like this—was no surprise.

As the image of a prescription bag flitted through his thoughts, Jin suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to see Han Naeyung. Meanwhile, Nari spun in circles on the passenger seat.

“Nari.”

Woof woof!

“Let’s go see Doctor Han. It’s been a while.”

At the mention of “Doctor Han,” Nari panted with its tongue hanging out, almost as if it understood. Its wide-open mouth resembled a strange grin. Jin chuckled, reaching out to stroke Nari’s head, gently removing a strand of grass caught at the corner of its mouth.

* * *

Woof! Woof woof!

Han Naeyung, who had been tidying up the clinic, turned toward the door at the familiar, loud barking. The scene before him felt eerily similar to something he’d experienced before. Jin stood there holding Nari by its metal leash, barely keeping the dog from bolting inside. As soon as the door opened, Jin released the leash.

Nari lunged forward, enthusiastically leaping into Han Naeyung’s arms. The force made Han Naeyung stumble, but he managed to steady himself. Despite Nari’s size, it acted like a tiny puppy, nuzzling affectionately. Jin walked in casually, a warm smile on his face.

“…It’s been a while,” Han Naeyung said, almost as if he’d been waiting. Realizing how that might sound, he quickly shut his mouth, but Jin didn’t seem to overthink it as he put on gloves.

“Seems like I got lucky; your business hours are over, right?” Jin asked, glancing at the wall clock.

“Yes.”

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Are you hungry?”

“…A little.”

Han Naeyung hadn’t eaten properly since lunch, leaving his stomach almost empty.

“If you’re done with work, let’s go out,” Jin suggested.

“…”

It had been a tiring day for Han Naeyung, with the clinic unusually quiet in the morning and overwhelming in the afternoon. He had just seen off his last client when Jin arrived. Without a word, Han Naeyung placed Nari down and brushed past Jin. He pulled down the blinds, turned on the emergency lights, and switched off the main lights.

“Let’s go.”

Jin scratched his cheek awkwardly. He had expected to do some persuading, but Han Naeyung’s quick agreement left him feeling oddly disarmed.

After stepping outside and locking up the clinic, Han Naeyung glanced at Jin, wondering if they’d end up at a street stall again. Jin, meanwhile, was busy putting Nari in the back seat.

“Prosecutor Jin, I’m too tired for drinks today. And with Nari here, I’m not sure where we could even go,” Han Naeyung remarked.

Without hesitation, Jin opened the passenger door. “Just get in for now.”

Han Naeyung sighed as he glanced up at his second-floor home. With Nari barking excitedly, he climbed into the passenger seat. But as soon as he sat down, Nari jumped into his lap, making itself comfortable.

From the driver’s seat, Jin looked over. “Not like you’re light or anything,” he teased, playfully flicking Nari’s nose.

Nari yelped in mock protest and squinted at Jin in mock irritation. Jin leaned an arm on the steering wheel, turning to Han Naeyung.

“Since you’re a vet, you must know of some pet-friendly places, right?”

“Not really…”

Jin nodded, as if expecting that answer, and gripped the wheel.

“How about my place, then? Like I told you before, I’m good at cooking,” he offered, half-joking.

“Sure. Let’s go to the prosecutor’s place,” Han Naeyung replied, head bowed, absentmindedly petting Nari.

Jin blinked. It had been a lighthearted suggestion, but Han Naeyung’s agreement caught him off guard. Did he take it as a joke and just go along with it?

“Actually, I’d rather go to Dr. Han’s place,” Jin said, reaching out to lightly pat Nari’s head—though what he really wanted was to touch Han Naeyung.

“…I…”

Han Naeyung mumbled something almost inaudibly.

But Jin heard it. Barely. And as unbelievable as it sounded, he was sure Han Naeyung had said: “I want to sleep… with you.”

For a moment, Jin thought he’d misheard. But no matter how many times he replayed it in his head, that’s what it was.

“That… came out wrong. Just… forget I said it,” Han Naeyung stammered, his face pale with embarrassment. He climbed out of the car in a hurry, leaving Nari and Jin behind. Jin, still processing, quickly pulled himself together and followed.

Jin caught up to him with long strides, grabbing Han Naeyung’s wrist firmly through his coat. Han Naeyung winced slightly from the grip.

“I heard you clearly.”

Jin tightened his hold, as if afraid Han Naeyung would slip away if he loosened even a little.

Jin led the reluctant Han Naeyung back to the car with more force than usual. Although Han Naeyung’s expression suggested he was going along reluctantly, he didn’t resist.

Back in the car, Nari wagged its tail energetically as Han Naeyung returned to his seat. Once Jin was seated, Han Naeyung broke the silence.

“If what I said offended you… I’m sorry.”

Jin’s expression, however, didn’t soften.

“Why would you think I’d be offended?”

His gaze lingered on Han Naeyung, scrutinizing this side of him he hadn’t seen before.