BITM Ch18

When the decision was made to return to the orphanage, whether his calves were broken or his head smashed, it was then that Gyo Jin saw a boy about his age handing money from a round wallet to a fish-shaped pastry vendor.

The boy passed the pastries he received to the woman standing beside him, who smiled gently and communicated with her hands. The boy moved his hands in sync with hers—they were using sign language.

Gyo Jin bit his lip tightly. They can’t speak. If I steal the wallet and run, they won’t be able to call for help. He didn’t think twice. He grabbed the wallet from the boy and sprinted away without looking back.

It’s too late—much too late. I have to get back quickly.

Stopping at the pharmacy where he had been turned away, Gyo Jin used the stolen money to buy fever reducers and cold medicine. Then he ran as fast as he could back to where Jaemin and Woomin were waiting. But when he arrived, no one was there.

This can’t be the spot—I must’ve made a mistake.

As Gyo Jin turned to search elsewhere, he noticed a candy wrapper at his feet. It was the same candy he had given to the two boys before they left the orphanage.

Seeing the wrapper, stained with dirt and snow, and the crushed candies scattered around it, Gyo Jin felt a jolt of panic. He tore through the alleyways, screaming their names until his voice gave out.

Shoeless and exhausted, he eventually found himself back at the same spot, clutching the medicine bag he had bought for nothing.

* * *

Jin’s eyes drifted to the asphalt.

The medicine bag from that day was long gone. What was once a red-light district twenty years ago was now a street filled with nightlife establishments. A mere fifteen-minute walk away had been the now-demolished Flower Field Orphanage.

For children, the world outside must have seemed like a labyrinth. Even with their small strides, they wouldn’t have known they were in a red-light district. But Jin remembered. He had naively thought a single night out would be enough to return safely.

When he was stationed nearby after becoming an adult, he revisited this place. The area had transformed into something unrecognizable, emphasizing the passage of time. The harsh reality was that no one had filed a missing persons report for the boys, and the orphanage director had been more concerned with covering up their disappearance than finding them. Jin, who was beaten for losing them, carried the guilt for years.

That winter, after becoming a prosecutor, Jin searched all the unidentified child death cases from that period. To his relief, there were none matching Jaemin or Woomin. He chose to believe they had survived somehow.

* * *

As Jin walked toward his car, a tout wearing a bowtie approached him.

“Sir, why not enjoy yourself while you’re here? Our girls are top-notch,” the tout said with a grin.

Jin ignored him, quickening his steps, but the tout blocked his path.

“Come on, don’t be like that. Looking for a specific type? Just take a peek, no strings attached.”

Jin scowled and tried to pass, but the tout babbled incessantly.

“Prices are fair, the girls are gorgeous—no place beats ours. We even give discounts.”

Jin finally stopped, glaring at the tout. “Give me your business card.”

The tout’s face lit up. “Ah, no cash? We can do tabs too—”

“Your card,” Jin repeated firmly.

The tout reluctantly pulled a garish, floral-printed card from his pocket and handed it over. Jin snatched it, walked to his car, and took a picture of the card before texting it to a detective he knew.

About ten minutes later, a police car pulled up outside the establishment. Officers entered, and the tout frantically made phone calls. Jin watched the chaos unfold, feeling a bitter sense of satisfaction.

Back then, no one had listened.

When he had filed a missing persons report after being adopted, the response had been dismissive.

“Do you think this is the only missing persons case we’ve got? You’ll never find them. Forget it and move on with your life.”

Now, as a prosecutor, all it took was his title to make people act. The irony was both laughable and tragic.

Jin turned on his phone and hesitated before typing a message.

“Are you okay? If I said something wrong today, I’m sorry. I’ll wait to hear from you.”

He waited, but no reply came. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

* * *

The animal clinic remained closed indefinitely after that day. The windows were covered with blinds, and a printed notice was taped to the door:

“Closed temporarily due to personal reasons.”

The neatly printed letters lacked the warmth of a handwritten note.

Even when the bell was rung or calls were made, there was no response. Despite messages saying there was something to discuss regarding the request, there was no reply. Worried that something might have happened to Han Naeyung at home, Jin walked past Han Naeyung’s building every night. Sometimes the lights in the living room were on, sometimes they weren’t.

The urge to obtain a warrant and force the door open was overwhelming, but Jin barely managed to hold back. Was it really such an offense to mention finding something on the CCTV? No matter how much he thought about it, that seemed to be the only reason Han Naeyung might be upset. Or rather, it wasn’t even anger—Han Naeyung had just gone silent.

Now that Jin couldn’t see Han Naeyung as often as before, he thought of him even more. To say he was preoccupied with thoughts of Han Naeyung all day wouldn’t be an exaggeration.

“Prosecutor Jin.”

As he was about to take out his phone after finishing a meeting with the Chief Prosecutor, Prosecutor Park called him. Prosecutor Park’s eyes were sunken with fatigue.

“How’s that matter coming along?”

“It’s not.”

Jin replied curtly.

“What? The case with the unidentified body is still stuck?”

“The case is progressing.”

“Then what isn’t?”

“My love life.”

“What!?”

Prosecutor Park’s eyes widened as if they were about to pop out.

“The celibate Prosecutor Jin… dating!? Dating, really? Honestly, I thought you were like a seedless watermelon! All size, no action.”

“Your voice is too loud.”

Prosecutor Park, grinning slyly, continued teasing as if Jin was just being modest.

“Hey, who is it? Who managed to thaw our stoic Prosecutor Jin?”

“An incredible beauty.”

“An entertainer?”

“Broaden your perspective.”

“Come on, just tell me. Who is it? Someone in the same building? Or did you meet through a matchmaking agency?”

“Matchmaking agency?”

What was that about? Jin put his still-silent phone back in his pocket.

“Not sure how they get my number, but they’ve been calling me nonstop since I was a trainee. Heck, even after I got married, they’d call. I got furious when they said they’d introduce a fine woman to a divorced man like me.”

“I never got any calls.”

“Hmm… Well, I guess that agency has a keen sense.”

“Thinking of getting divorced?”

“You little—!”

“What? You said they had a keen sense.”

Jin stood up, pulling his chair back.

“Prosecutor Park.”

“What.”

Prosecutor Park grumbled about how divorce wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“How do you win someone over?”

Prosecutor Park raised his eyebrows, looking like Jin’s question came out of nowhere.

“Who wouldn’t fall for you if you really tried?”

“…”

Prosecutor Park’s expression seemed to ask, Seriously? You tried and they still didn’t fall for you?

“If even someone like you can’t do it, then there’s no solution. Just give up.”

“This is hard. Really hard.”

Jin muttered as he left the meeting room.

The suspect in the Ogeori case was still elusive. On the other hand, the murder weapon from the homicide in the nearby mountains was found by the police a week ago.

As Jin had predicted, the murder weapon was a hiking stick. The fingerprint analysis had already been completed that morning, so he just had to wait for the report. Meanwhile, the child abuse murder case was in the middle of its trial, with the prosecution pushing for a 20-year sentence. But Jin’s personal life was in shambles.

While he replayed every detail, wondering what went wrong and thinking about Han Naeyung several times a day, was Doctor Han at least eating properly?

The sensation of those smooth thighs, damp with saliva, was beginning to fade from his memory. Even when he touched Han Naeyung, he seemed to have started to accept it, unlike at the beginning. Jin had thought to himself, He must have some interest in me if he’s like this.

If Han Naeyung’s silence was meant to humble him, it was a flawless success. Jin’s confidence had sunk so low that he was even asking Prosecutor Park for dating advice.

Jin smoked a cigarette and returned to the prosecutors’ office, tossing the pack onto his desk.

“Prosecutor, haven’t you been smoking more than before?”

Lee Inyeong asked.

“Really?”

“You used to go through half a pack a day, but now it seems like you’re at least a full pack.”

Lee Inyeong pointed out something Jin hadn’t even noticed himself. He shook the nearly empty pack. He definitely had been smoking more.

“You should cut back on cigarettes first.”

As soon as Han Naeyung’s voice came to mind, Jin let out a bitter smile.

“You must want to keep hearing his affectionate nagging.”

“Huh? From me?”

Jin shook his head with a faint smile. Lee Inyeong pouted, saying she figured as much.

“Oh, right, Prosecutor! The gold tooth hasn’t been identified yet, but we’ve narrowed down the suspects!”

The decomposed body found in a remote mountain area was referred to as “Gold Tooth” because of its crown. Thankfully, if they could narrow down the suspect, identifying the victim would be straightforward. It seemed like a relatively simple case, but Jin’s expectations were dashed when Lee Inyeong wore a perplexed expression.

“About that… The fingerprint analysis results from the murder weapon came back, but there’s a bit of an issue. Prosecutor, you’ll need to take a look at this.”

“What do you mean by an issue?”

Jin asked as he picked up the file from the desk.

The murder weapon, a hiking stick, was discovered in a shallow grave approximately 500 meters away from the site where the decomposed body was found. Latent fingerprint analysis identified the fingerprints as belonging to Song Iljae, the deceased from the Ogeori case. Matched with AFIS.

Jin squinted at the file.

“Ogeori victim…?”

“That’s correct. The fingerprints found on the stick match the deceased from the Ogeori case.”

Song Iljae had been the victim of the Ogeori case, murdered via euthanasia drugs intended for animals.

Though the discovery of the bodies happened in reverse order, “Gold Tooth” had actually died first, followed by Song Iljae. In other words, the documents strongly suggested that Song Iljae had killed “Gold Tooth” with the hiking stick and then was murdered by someone else.

Jin smirked in disbelief. It was a bizarre case where the predator became the prey, like a twisted food chain.

Then who killed Ogeori’s Song Iljae?

“If we assume that Song Iljae killed ‘Gold Tooth’ in the mountains, then who killed Song Iljae? Plus, both had their tongues cut out.”

Her question mirrored Jin’s thoughts.

“Ugh, this is giving me chills. What if the murdered ‘Gold Tooth’ turned into a ghost and killed Song Iljae?”

Of course, “Gold Tooth” didn’t come back as a ghost to exact revenge. Occasionally, when a case was completely baffling, some detectives or prosecutors would turn to psychics for help, but Jin didn’t believe in superstitions.

“Grudges.”

It was a cliché, but grudges were the most likely reason behind murder cases.

“We should focus on that. Song Iljae has a record of blackmail, so it’s highly likely this case is related to that.”

The most plausible theory at the moment was that Song Iljae had blackmailed “Gold Tooth” and eventually committed murder, or perhaps “Gold Tooth” had tried to eliminate Song Iljae but ended up being the victim. The starting point was finding the connection between them.

“I’ll investigate as you said. I’ll also report this to the Chief. And I’ve organized today’s schedule, so please review it.”

Jin sat down, pressing his fingers against his forehead.

Though his department specialized in violent crimes, they didn’t handle only major cases. When manpower was short, they frequently took on smaller criminal cases as well.

Today’s suspects included a delivery worker who committed petty theft and a habitual bicycle thief, among others—essentially small-time offenders. The bicycle thief was a minor and would be accompanied by their parents. Jin hoped, at the very least, the kid showed some remorse for their actions.

* * *

A Few Days Later

Except for one minor, the residence details of all suspects have been confirmed.

Han Naeyung stared at the text message from Jin. He then glanced at a previous message sent days ago.

Nari says she misses Dr. Han. Honestly, I miss you more. Let’s talk soon.

Han Naeyung’s lips twisted on their own. The message seemed to carry Jin’s voice, and though he wanted to smile, his brow furrowed instead.

Pushing his phone aside, Han Naeyung sat in a single-seater chair. In front of him was a firmly closed door. His bloodshot eyes lingered on the doorknob.

After three months of digging into Jang Joontae’s background, Han Naeyung had discovered that the information from the private investigator was wrong.

Jang Joontae’s movements were confined to orphanages, nursing homes, and animal shelters. He had no fixed residence and slept or ate wherever his volunteering took him.

Repentance…? Had he really repented? Did God forgive his sins? If so, that was a mistake. The person Jang Joontae needed to beg forgiveness from wasn’t God but Jaemin and Han Naeyung.

I haven’t forgiven you. You can’t just repent on your own.

Han Naeyung’s gaze turned icy.

Through the private investigator, he had first found Lee Kyungchul.

Lee Kyungchul had been the one who bought Jaemin and Han Naeyung from a middle-aged woman. When in a bad mood, Lee Kyungchul would starve them for an entire day. He’d even spit out chewed food and force it down their throats. Han Naeyung thought of the cabinet beyond the closed door, where formaldehyde-preserved remnants were stored.

He mocked the pathetic scraps floating in the liquid. The sensation of cutting away a cooling tongue lingered in his hand.

As his gaze locked on the door, memories began to resurface—memories of the day everything had gone awry.

* * *

“Lee Kyungchul, you bastard. Are you kidding me? No money?”

“Why don’t you quit being a thug and settle down for once?”

“Hearing that from you is so laughable I could cry. Whatever. I’ll just call your boss directly.”

“Please, stop tormenting me! I barely managed to get this job. My hands and feet are tied now—I can’t do anything else!”

“That’s your problem, you bastard. Did I ask for much? Just 300,000 won. That’s not unreasonable, is it?”

“Three months ago, you took 500,000! Now you’re asking for more?!”

“Hey, Lee Kyungchul. Why don’t you find a new job? No matter how kind your boss is, no one’s going to keep a guy with a child prostitution record employed.”

As the man turned away with a sneer, Lee Kyungchul swung his fist.

“No matter how hard I try to live right, scum like you ruin everything! Huh? Die! You bastard! Die!”

Lee Kyungchul climbed on top of the fallen man, gritting his teeth as he strangled him. As his grip tightened with murderous intent, the man clawed at his arms.

“Ugh… cough. You… insane…”

Realizing things wouldn’t end well, the man fumbled on the ground, grabbing whatever he could. Swinging it, he struck Lee Kyungchul, and blood gushed from his eye.

“Gasp… Huff… You son of a… I’ll kill you today… Ugh…”

The man spat out a mixture of blood and saliva and then drove the tip of the stick into Lee Kyungchul’s head as he knelt and screamed. The sound of dull thuds and sharp cracks echoed through the slightly open windows. Neither of the two men could have imagined someone witnessing the horrifying scene. But in the darkened car, its windows heavily tinted, Han Naeyung was silently watching the carnage unfold in the dimly lit auto repair shop.

Han Naeyung’s pupils dilated, reflecting confusion and disbelief. As the trembling in Lee Kyungchul’s convulsing body slowly subsided, Han Naeyung gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“…I didn’t do anything wrong. That bastard tried to kill me first! Damn it! It’s self-defense!”

The man alternated between glancing at the bloody hiking stick and Lee Kyungchul’s lifeless body. In a panic, he hurled the stick away before slapping his face repeatedly, muttering incoherent phrases under his breath.

He grabbed Lee Kyungchul’s legs, hoisting him awkwardly under his arms, and began dragging the body across the yard. His eyes darted nervously as he stuffed the corpse into the trunk of a nearby car.

“Damn fool. If you’d just handed over the money, none of this would’ve happened,” he muttered before scanning his surroundings again.

The man pulled out a water hose and began spraying the repair shop’s yard, scrubbing away the bloodstains until the ground looked untouched. He then placed the hiking stick and the bloodied broom in his car’s backseat. However, he didn’t start the engine immediately. For a long moment, he sat still, staring ahead.

Han Naeyung, still watching, turned off the car’s lights and slowly followed when the man finally pulled onto the road. Sweat drenched the gloves in his hands as he gripped the steering wheel.

The man drove past the newly developed apartment complexes into a barren mountainside area. The shadowy, half-built buildings of the so-called “new city” loomed ominously in the dark. The fewer cars there were on the narrow road, the quieter it became. Sensing he was being followed, the man slowed down, eventually stopping his car at the roadside.

Han Naeyung couldn’t afford to stop, so he drove past the man’s vehicle as though heading somewhere else. He continued around a curve before stopping at a distance where the engine noise wouldn’t be heard. In his pocket, he felt the small vial rattle alongside a syringe and scalpel.

It had to be tonight. Tonight was the night he would finally kill Lee Kyungchul.

Planning revenge had always been the easy part. Carrying it out, however, had taken months. Hesitation had held him back countless times, and he loathed himself for his weakness. But finally, he had made it this far.

Han Naeyung waited until the faint light of dawn crept in before stepping out of his car. He climbed into the woods, searching. Lee Kyungchul had to be alive—alive to face what was coming. Alive to pay.

Wandering through the autumn foliage, Han Naeyung gagged as the stench of blood filled his nose. He followed it to find Lee Kyungchul’s body lying haphazardly in the woods. Someone had covered him poorly with leaves instead of burying him properly.

“…Help,” Lee Kyungchul croaked weakly, sensing Han Naeyung’s presence. His trembling arm reached toward him in a feeble attempt to hold on to life.

Han Naeyung froze, staring at the pitiful sight before him. Lee Kyungchul, gasping for breath, probably thought his salvation had come. But Han Naeyung was no savior.

“Why?” Han Naeyung asked, voice trembling. “Why did you do it? Why did you hurt us?”

Lee Kyungchul coughed, his words slurred and barely audible. Han Naeyung leaned closer, desperate for an answer.

“I… don’t want to die,” Lee Kyungchul whispered. That was all.

His eyes rolled back, leaving nothing but the whites. The moment hung suspended as Han Naeyung grabbed his collar.

“No! Not that!” Han Naeyung screamed, shaking the lifeless body. “Why did you do it?! Answer me!”

He pounded on Lee Kyungchul’s chest, his fists bruising against the unresponsive corpse. Tears streamed uncontrollably down Han Naeyung’s face as his screams echoed through the woods.

For four months, Han Naeyung had searched and seethed, consumed by rage and grief. Yet here lay Lee Kyungchul, granted too merciful a death. Han Naeyung had imagined cutting out his tongue while he was still alive, watching the blood gush and hearing his screams. But now, someone else had stolen that moment from him.

Han Naeyung grabbed the corpse’s limp tongue and yanked it out. The dawn light caught the blade in his hand, casting a cold gleam.

“…Haah, haah…”

Snapping back to the present, Han Naeyung shivered uncontrollably as he shook off the icy memory. His gaze fixated on the closed door before him, tears silently streaking down his face.

It was all finally nearing its end. The long, hellish journey of vengeance was almost complete. But even if they all died, Jaemin would never return. The cruel truth tore at Han Naeyung’s heart, leaving it in tatters.

* * *

Han Naeyung descended into the hospital basement for the first time in a while. The lingering scent of perfume had long since vanished, leaving only emptiness in its wake.

Han Naeyung opened the medicine cabinet and took out three vials one by one, gripping them tightly in his hand. The sound of glass scraping against glass grated on his nerves. His hands were already sullied once; there was no need to hesitate now. Jang Joontae was wide open for an opportunity.

The only thing left was to carry it out. So why did his thoughts keep drifting to him? Could he still touch him after secretly killing Jang Joontae? No. It was impossible. If he were to remain silent about this forever, he had to leave now. He couldn’t embrace Dikē** with bloodstained hands.

“I’ve done nothing wrong. It’s them who drove Jaemin to his death. I’m punishing them on behalf of myself and others who’ve suffered more than death. What’s so wrong about that? Why must the victims always endure it quietly? If the law won’t protect us, I’ll resolve it myself. I’m not in the wrong.”

The voice of his nine-year-old self still screamed within him.

Leaning against the medicine cabinet, Han Naeyung clutched his ringing ears. Just then, the hospital door’s alert chime broke through his thoughts. He quickly slipped the vials into his pocket and hurried out of the medical room. He froze when he came face-to-face with the man who had entered.

The man also stood silently, looking at him. As always, he was dressed in a sleek black suit, with a neat tie wrapped around him like armor.

“Are you okay?” the man asked from a distance.

Han Naeyung suppressed the tremble in his face.

Why didn’t you contact me? How can you be so shameless? He had braced himself for harsh questioning, but the man’s words weren’t reproach—they were concern. And that concern threatened to unravel him.

The cold glass vials pressing against his palm brought him back to reality. He steadied himself and spoke.

“Prosecutor.”

After a deep breath, he continued.

“Please… don’t come here anymore.”

Jin’s gaze fixated on Han Naeyung’s lips. From those delicate-looking lips, an icy breath escaped, colder than frost, freezing Jin in place.

“…Do you hate me now?” Jin asked.

“I never liked you to begin with,” Han Naeyung replied, his previously soft tone now turning sharp.

Jin took a step closer. When Han Naeyung didn’t back away, he took another step forward.

“I don’t like you, Prosecutor.”

Jin was now close enough that Han Naeyung could feel his breath. The disbelief on Jin’s face was mixed with a faint, ironic smile.

“Then why did you sleep with me? Or, how could you? You told me only I was possible.”

Han Naeyung prayed his voice wouldn’t shake.

“Sleeping with you… was because I wanted to.”

“You only liked sleeping with me, then?”

“…Yes.”

Jin didn’t know what expression to wear or what to say. He only knew that, even now, as Han Naeyung tore him apart with calm detachment, he couldn’t bring himself to hate him.

That beautiful face was wielding razor-sharp words, mercilessly ripping through his heart and gut. Yet he still couldn’t let go.

“Are you pushing me away on purpose? Is there a reason?” Jin asked.

“Why would I do that?”

“You said I was okay, but no one else was.”

“I told you. I used you, Prosecutor.”

“For what, exactly, did you use me?”

“I let myself be led by my feelings before. I don’t want to anymore.”

Those detached eyes, as if tired of everything, made Jin feel like he was going insane. It was like waking up from a sweet dream into a brutal, unforgiving reality.

“Leave.”

Han Naeyung turned his gaze away as though tired of the argument.

“One last question,” Jin pressed. “Did you really never like me? Was it just my body you wanted?”

Han Naeyung didn’t even turn to look at him. His silence felt like an implicit demand for Jin to leave.

“All this time, I must have been a nuisance to you,” Jin murmured, not even knowing himself what answer he hoped to hear.

Han Naeyung gave him the one response he dreaded most: “Yes.”

“At least you said you liked sleeping with me,” Jin said with a bitter smile.

“Well then, good for you.”