BITM Ch21

One afternoon. An unexpected visit.

The man in the dark brown cashmere coat and stylish fedora scanned the animal clinic as if exploring it. Only after politely responding to Lee Seolhwa’s greeting and thoroughly inspecting everything from the floor to the windows and display shelves did he approach the desk.

‘No companion animal, just looking around… strange,’ thought Lee Seolhwa, though her smile didn’t falter.

“Is Dr. Han Naeyung here?”

“Our doctor? May I ask the purpose of your visit?”

“My name is Han Sungkwon. If you tell him my name, he will know.”

His overly courteous manner almost made Lee Seolhwa snap to attention out of reflex.

“Please wait a moment. Have a seat on the sofa. Would you like a drink while you wait?”

“No, thank you.”

His stiff yet slow speech seemed familiar somehow… Lee Seolhwa tilted her head in curiosity as she headed to the examination room. Since there was a guest already, she waited outside the door until they came out.

It wasn’t long before the guest, who had come for a routine check-up, opened the door. Lee Seolhwa smiled at the guest holding a white rabbit, then called for the doctor.

“Doctor.”

Her voice was low enough for only them to hear. Han Naeyung paused in the act of removing his gloves.

“There’s a man named Han Sungkwon here to see you.”

At her words, Han Naeyung immediately stood up. At the same time, a thoughtful expression briefly crossed his face. Nari followed closely behind Han Naeyung as he exited the examination room.

“You’re here,” Han Naeyung greeted his father, Han Sungkwon, who was sitting on the sofa.

“Yes, Naeyung. It’s been a while,” Han Sungkwon replied with a kind smile.

“Please come inside.”

Han Naeyung made way for Han Sungkwon to enter the hallway. The man removed his fedora and walked into the examination room with a straight gait. Han Naeyung greeted the rabbit’s owner and waited for Lee Seolhwa to finish the payment process.

The perceptive Lee Seolhwa asked first, “Should I change the status to a consultation?”

“Yes, it might take some time.”

It was the first time his father had visited since the clinic opened. His visit could only mean he had something important to discuss.

“Who is he, by the way?” Lee Seolhwa whispered.

“He’s my father.”

She then realized that Han Sungkwon’s slow and stiff speech was identical to Han Naeyung’s.

“Go on in.”

“Thank you.”

Lee Seolhwa nodded reassuringly.

Entering the examination room, Han Naeyung saw Nari sniffing around Han Sungkwon. Ignoring the dog, Han Sungkwon inspected the medicine shelves before putting his hands behind his back.

“Have a seat,” Han Naeyung offered his own chair.

“No, I can’t take the doctor’s seat,” Han Sungkwon replied, sitting in the visitor’s chair and gesturing for him to sit. As he sat behind the examination table, Nari jumped up out of habit.

“Is that… yours?” Han Sungkwon asked.

“She belongs to another guest. Would you like some tea?”

“No need for formalities, just be comfortable.”

After that brief exchange, an awkward silence filled the room. Despite being father and son, the atmosphere was tense. Han Naeyung had to keep pulling his gaze back up as it kept drifting downward.

“Naeyung.”

“Yes.”

“Is there nothing you want to say to me?”

“……”

Han Naeyung looked at his father with calm eyes, his lips firmly closed.

“Silence always carries a lot of meaning. Sometimes it’s better than saying something unnecessary. But you know, Naeyung, what’s more important than silence are words that can become a weapon. Just because a victim stays quiet doesn’t mean the issue gets resolved.”

“……Father.”

It was a word he couldn’t easily bring himself to say. Even after being adopted, he called him “Judge” for a long time, struggling to even utter the first syllable of “father.” At first, he resented him. He hated the judge who spoke of the law but didn’t punish them enough.

As he thrashed and convulsed, his father never took his eyes off him. Until he saw the tear-like blood flowing from his father’s eyes, he only resented his adoptive parents.

“If you hadn’t sought me out, I wouldn’t have come. That’s why I stopped your mother from coming too. Seeing me itself must be horrible for you.”

“No.”

It’s not true, never. Han Naeyung wanted to deny it strongly, but his father shook his head first.

“You said before that seeing my face brings back memories and makes you suffer.”

“That was…”

He had said it when he was only ten.

“I’m not blaming you. I know you’ve done your best as our son. It was my selfishness that brought you into our home and raised you. If I had found another good adoptive family, you would have lived more comfortably. It’s largely my fault.”

“I… received more love than I deserved.”

They were truly people who were too good for someone like him.

“That’s why, no matter what happens to you, I will do my best as your father.”

The words were meaningful. Han Naeyung met his father’s piercing gaze head-on.

The formalin in the cabinet, Jang Juntae of the Nuri Church.

It felt like the secrets in his head were being read. Guilt washed over him. Everything he had done and would do was a betrayal of his parents’ trust.

Hatred and guilt weighed against each other. As long as I don’t get caught. A perfect crime does exist. Han Naeyung kept repeating the same words in front of his father, who was once a judge. Suddenly, his father placed the fedora back on his head. Looking at the gloves on his son’s hands, he said,

“Who could blame you for suffering so long? And that ugly one, it looks just like the one you used to have.”

His father left the examination room. Han Naeyung couldn’t stop him. He just sat there until the door closed.

Nari whimpered and licked his chin anxiously. Han Naeyung opened his hand and covered his eyes. He felt like he would sob if he didn’t clench his teeth.

His parents had done nothing wrong. Neither Jaemin, who followed a stranger, nor his adoptive parents who took him in, were at fault. The fault lay with him and those monsters.

His parents had raised a broken child. At Nari’s pitiful whimper, Han Naeyung lowered his hand and petted her head. The dog his father had brought, as recommended by a psychological counselor, resembled Nari.

A Jindo dog, missing one leg from birth, had a face similar to Nari’s. Apart from its round eyes, its white fur was identical. The dog used to hop on three legs to greet people.

Contrary to the veterinarian’s prediction that it wouldn’t live long, the Jindo dog lived until Han Naeyung turned twenty. It died the year after he entered veterinary school, and he couldn’t bring himself to own another animal since.

The absence that began with death brought unbearable sadness. He had to endure heart-wrenching pain, just like when he lost Jaemin.

There were times he hoped he could live a normal life. But after the Jindo dog’s death, he repeatedly dreamed of Jaemin falling. The growing anger had deeply rooted in his heart, too deeply to pull out.

Why did you do it? Why did you do that to us!

Even when he shouted that day, Lee Kyungchul gave no answer.

If you can’t speak, a tongue is useless. So he cut it out. He wanted to inflict the same pain they had on Jaemin, but it was already too late. Everything was too late. Even meeting you…

Han Naeyung squeezed his eyes shut and opened them at the sound of a knock. Lee Seolhwa’s voice saying there was a guest felt distant. He habitually nodded. With slow hands, he opened the drawer and grabbed a candy. He unwrapped it and rolled it in his mouth.

It’s already too late. The clattering candy seemed to whisper to him.

I know it, but why do I still want to feel your breath now?

The candy was unbearably sweet.

***

“Prosecutor Jin, have you heard the verdict of the third trial?”

“Not yet.”

Lee Inyeong drew a V with her fingers as she handed over the judgment document.

– 11th Criminal Division Judgment –

Defendant

Lee xx (born in 1975, male), self-employed

Case

20xxGohap3xx a. Murder, b. Threatening

Order

The defendant is sentenced to 15 years in prison.

There was no need to read the details of the crime. It was the judgment for the murder case involving a man’s mistress.

“This time, Jang Law Firm took a big hit.”

Lee Inyeong made a fist resembling a punch. Jang Law Firm was a large firm famous for boasting a 60% win rate in civil cases. Their win rate in criminal cases was lower, but they were still a force to be reckoned with. They were top-notch in terms of capital, connections, and organizational power. It was also a place where many retired prosecutors worked.

The most concerning thing about such a firm was the preferential treatment for former colleagues. They had previously turned an obvious murder case into a mysterious death using their connections.

“Listen, Prosecutor. If we hadn’t attended the second trial, we wouldn’t have had a chance.”

“No way.”

“Why, don’t you remember? ‘Please give us more time, Your Honor.’ The public prosecutor was desperate.”

She mimicked the tone of the prosecutor perfectly and smirked.

“You were really impressive when you were running trials last year.”

Lee Inyeong’s voice was full of regret as she looked at Jin.

“Even buried in paperwork, you’re still impressive now.”

“Pfft, I can’t deny that, so it’s frustrating.”

“Oh, come on, young people.”

Sun Wookjae interrupted, making a fist like a microphone. They had unexpectedly found a few minutes of spare time before lunch.

On average, each prosecutor handled 6-7 cases per day. They had to decide whether to prosecute or dismiss each case. For the prosecutor, it was work, but for the people involved, it was a life-altering decision.

Jin thought the number was too much to handle alone. The chief prosecutor had to review twice as many, leaving room for errors. Of course, since it was human work, the same excuse wasn’t allowed. A few years ago, it was ten cases a day, so it had improved a bit.

After lunch, the chief of the case department was waiting in the prosecutor’s office. Jin glanced over the files he brought.

It was an unexplained death discovered in a local mountain. The body, haphazardly covered with fallen leaves, had an unknown cause of death. Whether it was homicide or suicide, the cause of death needed to be determined first.

Jin wrote the autopsy order and sent it to the chief, then checked the time. He turned to Lee Inyeong.

“Officer, I’ll review the CCTV myself, so please give me the copies.”

“Which CCTV?”

Given that there were multiple surveillance cameras, her question was understandable.

“The CCTV from the intersection case.”

“Oh, that one. It’s under the documents on your left.”

Jin rummaged through the papers and found the USB. The CCTV footage had been excluded from evidence as it didn’t show anything unusual. Although he didn’t have time to review it, he had a gut feeling that he shouldn’t let it slide.

Jin opened the most recent edited file. The intersection was not a densely populated area, so the footage excluded time periods with no foot traffic. The surveillance cameras that started running after the incident might have captured something.

Jin sipped his coffee, his eyes still on the monitor. There were no suspicious behaviors within a 300-meter radius of the crime scene.

While absentmindedly skimming through the footage from morning to early dawn, Jin suddenly pressed the space bar. What was that? He rewound the footage, thinking he had seen something wrong.

The time rewound to around 6 AM on Sunday.

The man in the video had his face half-buried in a scarf. Yet his appearance was so striking that it stood out even on the surveillance camera…

“Han… teacher.”

Jin felt strange seeing Han Naeyung on the screen. It was like recognizing someone on TV. He had seen many acquaintances, including chief prosecutors, on TV before, but it never felt like this.

Jin watched the building Han Naeyung had exited.

Nuri Church

Han Naeyung had walked away from the church and disappeared somewhere. The footage only captured him walking down the hill, but it was clear he was heading toward the animal hospital.

Jin continued to review the footage to check the church’s service times. There were four services on weekends: at 5 AM, 11 AM, 4 PM, and 7 PM. Han Naeyung had attended one service and wasn’t seen again that day. It made sense.

Jin opened a new file. Just before 11 AM on Sunday, he found footage of Han Naeyung going to the church. He left the church after noon, blending in with the crowd. Jin chuckled.

“Devout, isn’t he?”

He wondered if Han Naeyung also attended services on weekdays and was about to rewind the footage when he frowned.

A man who followed Han Naeyung handed him something and spoke to him. The item appeared to be a drink. Han Naeyung’s face was turned away from the camera, so it wasn’t visible. After a three-minute conversation, Han Naeyung turned around first.

He buried his face in the scarf and walked quickly toward the hill, which was unusual for him.

Jin watched with growing interest, resting his chin on his hand. At that moment, Han Naeyung tossed the can into a trash bin in the alley and lowered his scarf, looking like he was about to vomit. Jin felt a chill at the back of his neck.

Han Naeyung, who had been lingering for a while, disappeared down the hill. He seemed to be struggling.

Ding, ding. Jin’s phone alarm went off simultaneously. He turned off the alarm and grabbed the mouse. He hesitated to turn off the surveillance footage. Han Naeyung, throwing the can and gagging in front of the trash bin.

He had forgotten, but Han Naeyung had always had a germ phobia. Jin, still staring at the screen while putting on his coat, was asked by Sun Wookjae, who was tidying up his clothes.

“Prosecutor, we should get going.”

“Yes, let’s go.”

Click. Jin moved the mouse belatedly.

Jin was lost in thought even as he headed to the hospital by car. Han Naeyung’s image kept replaying in his mind. If his germ phobia had worsened to the point of vomiting, he wouldn’t have considered going to a crowded church in the first place.

“What are you thinking so hard about?”

Sun Wookjae glanced at him.

“Mr. Chief, you said you were a Christian, right?”

“Yes, my wife is very devout, so I end up going as well.”

“Let’s assume you have a germ phobia.”

Jin made an assumption. When there were gaps in a case, he often made various assumptions to find the cause. It was part of the job, so it wasn’t exactly personal.

“You hate having people touch you. But you still go to church.”

“So what?”

“Well, don’t you have to talk to the church members and sit close to them during services? For someone with a germ phobia, attending a service would be difficult.”

“Oh, Prosecutor, you must not have a religion.”

Jin nodded silently in agreement.

“People can endure extreme situations with just their faith. My wife is a perfect example. When she was pregnant with our youngest, the doctor warned her because of her age. She was very weak and had a high risk of miscarriage. But she still went to early morning prayers every day, prayed at home, and eventually gave birth to a beautiful daughter. After that, I became more devout too. If I had a germ phobia, I would go to church even more fervently to pray to God to cure me of this terrible illness.”

“That makes sense.”

“But why did you bring this up? It doesn’t seem related to the case.”

“It’s a bit personal.”

It had become personal after all. Jin laughed somewhat awkwardly.

“You’ve been wanting to leave work early lately and your face looks strangely good. Did you get a girlfriend?”

“You’ll find out eventually.”

“Promise to introduce her to us.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Jin answered with a smile and looked up at the university hospital building outside the window.

Why had he delved so deeply when he could have thought lightly like Sun Wookjae?

Because it was Han Naeyung, not someone else. When he was with Jin, he didn’t show the same level of germ phobia as he did initially, so Jin thought he had improved, but it was still the same. However, by now, Jin didn’t mind Han Naeyung’s germ phobia at all.

Jin was the only one Han Naeyung could touch, which was something to be happy about. Still, seeing him retch was pitiful. He thought that was why it bothered him.

“I shouldn’t have eaten so much for lunch.”

“You can wait outside if you want, Mr. Chief.”

“No, I can’t do that.”

Jin and Sun Wookjae got out of the car and headed to the hospital morgue. Inside, police officers and the coroner were waiting. After exchanging brief greetings and paperwork, Jin went straight into the autopsy room.

The smell of the decomposing body was overpowering and familiar yet always unsettling. The corpse on the autopsy table was already significantly decomposed, emitting a foul stench.

“Let’s begin.”

The coroner examined the exterior of the body from head to toe. Meanwhile, Sun Wookjae tried to endure the smell by breathing through his mouth.

The coroner pointed to a ‘V’-shaped laceration on the right side of the back of the head, evidence suggesting the possibility of homicide.

“It looks like a laceration from a blunt object. Once we examine the skull, we’ll know for sure, but it doesn’t seem to be from a hammer, more likely a sharp pointed object.”

Jin approached and examined the laceration. As the coroner said, it seemed to be a wound from a sharp weapon. The coroner, examining the inside of the mouth, frowned slightly.

“The oral… No, this body has no tongue.”

Jin also frowned.

“Are you saying the tongue was originally missing?”

“No. It could have been eaten by wild animals, but looking at this cut, it doesn’t seem like an animal bite. The cut is too clean, as if it was made with a scalpel. There are also signs of dental work. Five teeth have crowns and are in very good condition. Due to the advanced decomposition, we will have to reserve judgment on the fatal injury until the skull is examined.”

As the coroner began to cut open the chest, one of the police officers participating in the autopsy started to vomit. He tried to cover his mouth, but partially digested lunch spilled through his fingers.

“Step outside.”

At Jin’s words, the police officer rushed out, the door closing firmly behind him. It was understandable. The body wasn’t freshly discovered; it had decomposed significantly in the cold, indicating it had been there for several months.

The coroner meticulously checked the organs, finding no abnormalities. The electric saw’s ominous sound echoed as the skull was cut open. The right side of the back of the head had five fractures.

“These aren’t injuries from a fall. It was stabbed with something like a fire poker.”

“Couldn’t a hiking stick cause similar injuries?”

Jin added to the coroner’s opinion.

“Yes, that’s possible. Additionally, there’s no blood flow in the esophagus. The tongue was cut postmortem, and the cause of death is the skull fractures.”

As expected, the fatal wound was the laceration on the head. Moreover, the postmortem tongue removal matched the pattern of the intersection case. Jin clicked his tongue as he looked at the exposed internal organs. There was still no connection.

“Is there no missing person report matching this body?”

After finishing the conversation with the coroner, Jin asked the police officer beside him.

“No, still unidentified.”

“Make a dental mold and check with dentists within a 10km radius for dental records, and search the area where the body was found for potential weapons. Once identified, investigate people around the victim. It could be a crime of revenge.”

“We’ll proceed as instructed.”

The police officer wrote down Jin’s instructions in a hoarse voice.

The vomit from the police officer mixed with the body, creating an unbearable stench. As the coroner returned the organs to their original place and sewed them up, there were more sounds of people struggling to hold back their nausea.

The autopsy took two hours to complete. Those who stepped outside walked quickly away from the morgue. Jin pulled a candy from his pocket and popped it into his mouth.

“Prosecutor, give me one too.”

Sun Wookjae, looking pale, extended his hand. Jin placed a banana-flavored candy in his palm.

“Don’t you have any other flavors?”

“Choose from strawberry, then.”

“Then, pineapple…”

Jin rummaged through his pocket and took out all the candies. Without a pineapple flavor, he substituted grape. Sun Wookjae, who was crunching on the candy, sighed deeply as if he had been revived.

Getting into the car, he sniffed his clothes. The smell of the corpse had permeated his clothes that quickly. Sun Wookjae opened the window and increased the speed to try to get rid of the stench.

“The tongue being cut out matches the case at Ogeori, right? Could they be related? The Ogeori case happened recently, and this corpse seems to be at least four months old.”

“We’ll know once we connect the dots.”

Jin smoked a cigarette while holding the candy in his mouth.

“Prosecutor, doesn’t the cigarette taste weird?”

Jin inhaled deeply and exhaled the smoke.

“I don’t mind it.”

“Really?”

Sun Wookjae also lit a cigarette. Jin paused while tapping the ash into the portable ashtray in the car. The burning tip of the cigarette fell off, and he had to relight it.

Jin frowned while holding the cigarette. It wasn’t just because of the cigarette. He had just realized what had been bothering him.

Throwing the can he received.

That wasn’t something Han Naeyung would do.

***

“Excuse me, sir?”

A young man who looked like a college student stuck his face in. Han Naeyung swallowed his breath. His gaze wavered as the memories that started flooding in after his father’s visit reached their peak.

Han Naeyung clutched his chest, unable to breathe properly.

“Are you okay?”

He tried to get up by holding onto the examination table, but books toppled over as he stumbled. The hand the concerned young man extended had turned black. The mold-covered ghostly figure was getting closer.

Get out, please get out of here…!

Covering his mouth with his hand and patting his chest, the young man who was holding a dog quickly ran out of the examination room. He could hear the dog barking and the young man calling for Lee Seolhwa.

Lee Seolhwa, shocked by Han Naeyung’s condition, hurriedly put on gloves.

“Mr. Jeon, I think our doctor isn’t feeling well. I’m sorry, but we’ll have to reschedule your pet’s check-up.”

Lee Seolhwa helped Han Naeyung to the small sofa.

“The check-up was done, but he suddenly had a seizure while talking. Should I call an ambulance?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine in a bit. You must have been startled. Please go ahead without worrying about the bill.”

As Lee Seolhwa sent off the startled client, Han Naeyung lay on the couch, gasping for breath. His face, pale as a sheet, had turned bluish. She brought a plastic bag and wrapped it around his mouth.

“You seemed fine for a while…”

She sighed deeply with a mutter.

“Doctor, breathe in and out slowly.”

The bag inflated and deflated rapidly. Tears flowed from his bloodshot eyes. Lee Seolhwa placed a towel on Han Naeyung’s sweaty forehead and slowly stepped back.

His white hand holding the plastic bag looked thin and nervous. As she looked at him with concern, she remembered the day she first met Han Naeyung.

“If there’s one condition I’d like to ask… please don’t touch me.”

“Oh, would I have any reason to touch you? Or are you indirectly telling me not to fall in love with you?”

“I have a germophobia.”

“Ah, that’s why you’re wearing gloves. Understood, I’ll keep my distance.”

“And… I sometimes have seizures.”

“Do you have a chronic illness?”

“Something similar.”

“Just let me know the response protocol, and I’ll manage.”

Han Naeyung had had three seizures since he started working. Once when a mentally disturbed man attacked him, the second time the day after ordering formalin. And today… there was nothing special.

The young college student who occasionally visited with his girlfriend was familiar with the doctor.

“Are you feeling better?”

The rustling sound of the plastic bag gradually subsided. Han Naeyung nodded weakly at Lee Seolhwa, who was looking at him with a serious expression. Her first impression of Han Naeyung was of a handsome, neat man with a germophobia. That image had been shattered within a few days of working with him.

He turned out to be quite clumsy, and when he was scolded, he would purse his lips.

Lee Seolhwa picked up Nari, who was anxiously running around. Nari squirmed to get free and eventually jumped onto the sofa where Han Naeyung lay. Nari stood guard at his feet, chest puffed out.

“Doctor, let’s end today’s consultation here.”

Han Naeyung removed the plastic bag.

“Nurse, you too… go home.”

His mouth moved with difficulty. Lee Seolhwa nodded in response without saying anything. The first rule Han Naeyung taught her was to leave him alone when he had a seizure.

Initially, she stayed by his side out of worry. That made his symptoms worse. Han Naeyung only calmed down when he was left alone.

“Do you need medication?”

He mouthed “yes.” She opened a drawer, took out a sedative, and placed it on the table with some water. Then she watched Han Naeyung as he turned to face the back of the sofa. His curled-up body looked unusually fragile.

The only time Han Naeyung, who had been consistently lethargic, showed any semblance of normal behavior was after Jin appeared. Han Naeyung took care of Nari and waited for Jin even past the end of his work hours.

For someone like her, who had seen Han Naeyung cut others off sharply, his change was astonishing.

Lee Seolhwa, standing at the desk, hesitated to call Jin. She planned to lock the door and was concerned that Jin would make a wasted trip to pick up Nari. She called Jin on the hospital phone, but he didn’t answer, seemingly busy. Resigned, Lee Seolhwa wrote a note on a post-it.

Lee Seolhwa peeked into the examination room again to check on Han Naeyung. Nari was snuggled in Han Naeyung’s arms, wide awake but lying still. Upon noticing it was Lee Seolhwa, Nari relaxed.

With the examination room door half-open, Lee Seolhwa gathered her things, walking carefully to avoid making noise with her heels. She locked the door from outside and attached the post-it to the glass.

“Closed for personal reasons. Nari’s father, Nari is inside. Please come and take her.”

‘Doctor, but really, are you comfortable being alone? Everyone feels lonely when they’re alone…’

Lee Seolhwa muttered to herself while looking at the hospital through the post-it note.

***

Aromatherapy candles, warm orange lighting, and a therapist with a soothing voice. A boy in a school uniform sat expressionless in front of him.

It was a familiar scene in the counseling room. Han Naeyung had been a long-term client for five years. Only Han Sungkwon and the therapist knew about Han Naeyung’s past.

“Naeyung, where did we leave off last time?”

“Breathing…”

“Yes, that’s right.”

The distance between the therapist and the client was significant. The therapist rested his hands on his knees, listening attentively to Han Naeyung.

“When people breathe, they emit a smell… When I was young, I classified them as good smells, bad smells, and mean smells.”

The 16-year-old Han Naeyung spoke cautiously.