BITM Ch23

At this moment, he had to suppress even his simmering anger with calmness. As he headed toward Sarangwon, Han Naeyung repeated those words to himself.

Children returning from school were entering Sarangwon one by one. To calm his pounding heart, Han Naeyung quietly watched the children gathered in groups, laughing among themselves. Yet his heart refused to settle down. What was he afraid of now? No, this was the joy of an ending. That’s what he thought.

As it passed 6 o’clock, the surroundings grew dim. There were fewer people around, and only stray cats occasionally passed by. A calico cat suddenly leapt up onto the hood. Its round eyes looked in the direction of the driver’s seat, as if it could see Han Naeyung in the dark-tinted car.

The cat’s eyes had a sharpness that seemed to read his mind. Han Naeyung didn’t meet its gaze, focusing all his attention on Sarangwon beyond it. The cat meowed loudly, then curled up on the hood.

After 7 o’clock, two men came out of Sarangwon. Jang Joontae was exchanging farewells with the director.

Thump-thump, thump, his heart started pounding wildly again. Jang Joontae waved his hand, signaling he didn’t need to be seen off any further. The director, as if it were a usual occurrence, didn’t watch him for long before returning to Sarangwon. The cat meowed again, and Han Naeyung started the engine, leaving its cries behind.

The cat, which had been lying on the hood, leapt down to the ground. Han Naeyung slowly followed Jang Joontae. When he got closer, he picked up speed a little.

Han Naeyung pulled up beside Jang Joontae, pretending it was a chance encounter. Jang Joontae glanced at the car that made a low engine noise.

“Reverend.”

Han Naeyung greeted him through the open window.

“Oh, isn’t it our Brother? Are you coming from Sarangwon? I was just on my way out, so we must’ve missed each other.”

“I was, but I remembered I forgot something.”

“Oh dear, all that effort for nothing.”

Han Naeyung casually brushed the steering wheel. His hand no longer shook.

“Where are you headed? I can give you a ride.”

Jang Joontae looked steadily at Han Naeyung. Han Naeyung didn’t avoid his gaze, meeting it instead. As he held his breath, Han Naeyung added a faint, crafted smile.

“…In that case, I’ll take you up on it.”

Jang Joontae walked around the car and tried to open the passenger door. Finding it locked, Han Naeyung released the lock for him.

“The car’s old, so the doors can be a bit tricky.”

“But you keep it clean. It’s in great condition.”

Jang Joontae, now seated in the passenger seat, buckled his seatbelt. Seeing him sitting so neatly, Han Naeyung felt an urge to gag. The man, now presenting the perfect image of a reverend, was utterly repulsive.

Han Naeyung brushed his jaw with his gloved hand to hide his trembling mouth. He then slightly rolled down the window to let in some fresh air.

“Where are you headed?”

“Well, naturally, I’m headed to the church.”

As expected. Han Naeyung pretended to turn the wheel in the direction of the church and asked:

“Have you… had dinner?”

“Not yet. I was planning to eat at Sarangwon, but they were one meal short. Ha-ha. Since I couldn’t have them cook more just for me, I had to go without.”

“You have a kind heart.”

For a moment, Han Naeyung couldn’t hide a brief sneer. Noticing this, Jang Joontae’s face stiffened in response. His hand reached for the door. Should he increase the speed now? Or should he administer the sedative right away? Han Naeyung’s mind raced with options.

Tap, Jang Joontae simply opened the window slightly, letting the wind hit his face. It seemed he was breaking out in a cold sweat. Unlike the pale-faced Han Naeyung, Jang Joontae had a faint smile on his lips. Han Naeyung forced himself to speak smoothly.

“Since I live alone, how about having dinner together?”

“Sure, with a spring breeze like this, it would make for a delightful meal. Do you know a good place?”

“Yes. A place that suits us.”

Han Naeyung answered while staring straight ahead. As he exited the alley and merged onto the road, he headed toward the outskirts. The direction was the same as where restaurants were, so there was no reason for suspicion.

“Brother.”

“…Yes?”

With his eyes closed, Jang Joontae let the wind hit his face, then reopened them. Observing his scrawny frame, Han Naeyung thought he could easily manage him with his own strength.

“Would you listen to what I have to say?”

Jang Joontae, who had opened his eyes, looked at Han Naeyung.

“Go ahead.”

Jang Joontae drew in a deep breath, as if he had a long story to tell, then exhaled. His Adam’s apple moved slightly, showing a hint of tension.

“It may be boring, but I hope you’ll listen.”

Han Naeyung didn’t offer any encouraging words to Jang Joontae, who was stalling. Nevertheless, he began speaking on his own accord.

“You see, ever since I was very young, I’ve felt the stark difference between wealth and poverty. It’s a common story, but my father was a drunk. I was told my mother left when I was young, but I was so little that I don’t even remember her.”

Jang Joontae continued with a faint smile, reminiscing.

“My father would often get drunk and beat me. One day, he smashed my head into a wardrobe, leaving blood streaming down, and wrapped my head with tissue because he said we couldn’t afford a hospital. Another day, he didn’t give me a penny but sent me to buy soju, so I shivered outside all night in the dead of winter. When I finally went back in the morning, all I got was his fist.”

He lifted his hair to reveal an old scar. Laughing as if recalling fond memories, he continued. Han Naeyung glanced sideways, then looked straight ahead again.

“Fearing I’d become half-disabled if I stayed with my father, I ran away with a broken leg. To survive, I did all sorts of dirty things. I joined a gang, paying them a monthly cut from what I earned. Eventually, the ever-increasing fees became too much, and I resorted to doing things I shouldn’t have. Back then, my only thought was, ‘If I want to survive, I have to become a butcher of men. That’s the only way I can live.’”

Han Naeyung focused all his nerves on his hands, taking care not to grip the wheel too tightly. The words felt like poison in his ears. There was not a shred of sympathy. Jaemin and he had been sacrificed in this butcher’s quest for survival, Jaemin was dead, and this man was alive. That was the outcome. Now on the outskirts of the city, Han Naeyung began to pick up speed.

“After serving my sentence and being released, I cut ties with all dirty businesses. This was the price I paid,” Jang Joontae said, holding up his missing pinky.

“But, you see…, Brother….”

Han Naeyung didn’t respond. His throat was already tight.

“It might sound absurd, but… the moment I first saw you, I thought you looked like an angel. I felt like the angel in the Bible must look just like you.”

Jang Joontae narrowed his eyes, shielding them from the chilly wind. Han Naeyung scoffed silently. Jang Joontae continued, unfazed.

“Your purity and nobility seemed untouchable, like something out of reach.”

Han Naeyung’s hands on the wheel shook with mock laughter. How absurdly ironic for a devil like him to speak of angels. The tension that had been building eased somewhat, and a calm settled over him.

His phone began vibrating in his pocket. Han Naeyung pulled over to the shoulder of the road, turning his gaze to Jang Joontae.

“I have a call. It’s personal, so if you could, please….”

Feigning to search for his phone, Han Naeyung mentally prepared the syringe. Jang Joontae, nodding in understanding, undid his seatbelt and reached for the door, only to find it wouldn’t open.

“As I mentioned, this car’s old, so sometimes the locks act up,” Han Naeyung said casually.

“…I see.”

Jang Joontae replied with a faint sense of resignation, then took a deep breath, seemingly bracing himself. Han Naeyung could hardly wait any longer, fearing the call would end soon.

The moment Jang Joontae turned, Han Naeyung thrust the sharp syringe into his neck. Pressing the plunger, the drug quickly entered Jang Joontae’s body. He clutched his neck, but within moments, his head slumped down, overtaken by the potent anesthetic.

Checking that no passing cars took notice, Han Naeyung leaned the passenger seat back. Jang Joontae lay there, looking as if he were simply asleep. Counting silently to three, he picked up his phone.

“Yes,” he answered, his voice steadied with effort.

— What are you doing?

Jin’s gentle voice asked. Han Naeyung leaned back against the headrest as if surrendering.

“Just…here.”

He didn’t glance at Jang Joontae.

— I’ll be there soon after I finish up.

“Take your time.”

— Don’t go anywhere, alright? Just like we promised. And if everything goes well… let’s take Nari for a walk tonight.

“Sure.”

Han Naeyung hung up, then powered down his phone completely. No more calls until everything was finished. Even though he’d made a promise just moments ago, he knew he couldn’t keep it.

Taking a deep breath, he wiped the red-tinged rims of his eyes. Two hours—he only had that long before the anesthetic wore off. Leaving the shoulder of the road, he continued driving, occasionally swerving slightly as his resolve wavered.

* * *

Gasping for breath, Han Naeyung hauled Jang Joontae’s arms over his shoulders, ascending the stairs. Everything around him felt suffocatingly dark, like an endless descent into hell. His feet screamed in protest, and he gritted his teeth.

This was nothing. He no longer knew how much time had passed. Jang Joontae’s shoe slipped off and tumbled down the steps. Whenever his legs trembled too much, he’d pause to catch his breath before hoisting Jang Joontae up again. The strength he summoned was surprising even to himself.

On the sixth floor, Han Naeyung finally collapsed. His ragged breaths echoed through the empty building. His feet were soaked, though he couldn’t tell if it was from blood or sweat. Grabbing Jang Joontae by the collar, he climbed atop him.

His weakened fingers dropped the syringe. With a shaky grip, he retrieved it and injected a muscle relaxant, his body occasionally convulsing with effort.

“…Brother.”

As Jang Joontae slowly regained consciousness, he whispered.

“…Brother.”

Han Naeyung slapped him across the face.

“Don’t call me that.”

Gasping for breath, he pressed the air out of the syringe before roughly pulling up Jang Joontae’s sleeve to inject it. The relaxant would take longer to be absorbed than the anesthetic, but it wouldn’t be lethal, only rendering him immobile.

“Brother…”

Once more, Han Naeyung slapped him, his gloved hand leaving a trail of blood at the edge of Jang Joontae’s mouth, who spat it out with a cough.

“Did you come… to punish me?”

Jang Joontae looked at the syringe stuck in his arm and spoke. Han Naeyung gripped his collar and shook him violently. Thud, thud, Jang Joontae’s head hit the hard cement floor. Han Naeyung muttered in a low voice.

“Preacher, didn’t you say that any sin can be forgiven? So, if I kill you now, can I just repent, and it’ll be all forgiven?”

Han Naeyung staggered as he got up and kicked Jang Joontae’s body. Thud, thud, thud, the sound of his shoe heels echoed. He braced himself, placing his hand on the ground as he swayed.

“Cough, cough… Brother…”

Wham! His missed punch hit the cement, bringing a wave of pain as his bones felt the impact. Han Naeyung picked up a piece of broken cement from the floor. He raised it and aimed it at Jang Joontae, who was trying to talk.

Bang! The stone crashed down with a loud noise.

Jang Joontae didn’t blink. He simply stared at Han Naeyung, enduring the blow as it came toward him. Han Naeyung tried several times to bring the stone down on his face, but each time it barely missed.

“Ah! Aah!!”

Han Naeyung broke down, collapsing on the spot. His sobs, stifled by his palms, were raw and fragmented. Jang Joontae, trembling, reached out with a shaky hand.

“Brother… I… I needed money so badly… I put on the mask of a man but became nothing more than a butcher. I’m sorry… for what I did to you…”

“You… do you even know who I am?”

Han Naeyung lifted his exhausted eyes.

“You said this is where people like us belong. Is this place… the tower of sins I’ve built?”

Jang Joontae looked up at the building’s ceiling as tears streamed down his face. Han Naeyung took his hands off his face and tilted his head.

“You say you’ve repented. Fine.”

His twisted lips moved with contempt.

“Then how about showing what real repentance is? Why don’t you throw yourself out there?”

Han Naeyung ground his teeth, feeling fury rising from within.

“Forgive me… please… ugh!”

Han Naeyung squeezed Jang Joontae’s neck, releasing that foul breath. He could feel the bones in Jang Joontae’s throat press against his thumbs. He squeezed tighter as if to crush it.

‘You have to remain a villain. You have to stay evil until the end. Otherwise, who will bear the blame for Jaemin’s death…?’

Even though he was the one choking him, Han Naeyung felt as though his own breath was being cut off. Jang Joontae’s eyes began to roll back as foam bubbled from his mouth. Han Naeyung released his grip and fell back, breathing heavily.

He won’t die easily. He won’t die simply.

He chanted to himself like a mantra.

“Cough, hack, cough!”

Jang Joontae’s face was smeared with blood as he turned it to the side. Han Naeyung grabbed his limp arms and dragged him toward the shattered window where the wind blew in.

“Forget the empty repentance and show me what real repentance is.”

Han Naeyung used all his strength to pull him toward the window. Despite the looming edge, Jang Joontae only sobbed.

Are you truly the master of this cage? The demon who carved wounds into the back of a child begging for mercy?

“Brother?”

Han Naeyung sneered.

“I don’t believe that. According to your beliefs, Jaemin should be in hell, right? He was only nine years old! A mere child who couldn’t bear the suffering any longer and threw himself off. Why should he be punished for that?”

He felt like he was losing his mind. Uncontrolled emotions welled up, and saliva slipped from his open mouth.

Han Naeyung gritted his teeth and dragged Jang Joontae’s body. They were getting closer. Now, it was only a matter of pushing him off. Just as he was about to do so…

…Doctor Han!

A voice, carried by the fierce wind, grabbed his attention. It was just an illusion. There was no way he was here. Han Naeyung kept pulling Jang Joontae without turning around. But then, the wind blew again, and he heard the voice once more.

Woomin…!

For the first time in twenty years, a name no one had called was scattered in the wind.

Ah… I’ve finally lost my mind, haven’t I? Is Jaemin here to take me away? If so, just wait a little longer… I’ll be done soon…

Han Naeyung looked out at the pitch-black darkness through the open window.

“Woomin!”

This time, he heard it clearly. Han Naeyung shook his head. It’s just an illusion, don’t turn around! But his gaze disobeyed him and turned toward the voice.

The light from a phone he was holding shone brightly on the floor. The person stood against the light like someone facing the sun, his face obscured.

“It’s me… Gyo Jin.”

Han Naeyung still thought it was an illusion, carried by the strong wind. There was no way Jin knew his name, which no one had called in years, or the name of his brother, buried deep within him.

His grip on Jang Joontae’s arms weakened and loosened. Han Naeyung looked at him as he approached and shook his head.

“Don’t come any closer.”

He didn’t want to show this side of himself.

To him, he wanted to remain as the veterinarian in a small clinic, the doctor with a slight cleanliness obsession. So, this couldn’t be Gyo Jin.

“Woomin.”

At his call, Han Naeyung froze.

“This time…”

As he tried to come closer, Han Naeyung stepped back. Jin’s heavy breaths mingled with the wind and faded away.

“This time, I’ll save you. It won’t end the way it did before…”

The sweet breath of a child, who held a melting candy bulging inside his cheek to savor it, reminded him of Jin’s breath. It was the same scent he had always sensed from Jaemin, Gyo Jin, and Jin alike. Yet, he couldn’t believe it. “You’re playing with me, right? You’re here as a prosecutor, aren’t you? You came to take me away, didn’t you?” He denied it over and over again.

“I’ve been searching since then. For both Jaemin and you.”

Jin’s voice was damp with emotion. “Jaemin too…” The words kept echoing in his ears.

“…Really?”

Han Naeyung asked blankly.

“Do you remember me?”

I’ve lived trying to forget, trying not to recall you… Hyung, do you really remember me?

“I remember. Your laughter, your voice, all of it.”

So don’t stay there—come here. Jin reached out his hand.

“I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you sooner.”

Jin’s pleading hand trembled with unease. His hand, clenched into a fist, now opened firmly toward him. Han Naeyung wiped away his tears, shaking his head. Perhaps because of the drugs, Jang Joontae crawled toward the window, away from the corridor, toward a deadly fall.

“That man! He says he’s repented. He says he was wrong. But I can’t forgive him… he killed Jaemin!”

In his confusion, Han Naeyung clung to Jin as he spoke.

“Why should the wicked be forgiven? Jaemin is dead, but this man still gets to live!”

You’re a prosecutor, Hyung. You know the answer, don’t you? Han Naeyung sobbed.

“Please, Woomin… come here.”

Maybe there could have been another chance. Both of them had ignored the screaming call of their senses.

The storm, hidden deep within Han Naeyung, began to force its way out.

“I… can’t hold on any longer. I just… can’t forgive.”

Han Naeyung moved closer to the edge, where Jaemin had jumped. His legs trembled. It was as if the wind were pulling him down, while darkness beckoned with an inviting hand. As Han Naeyung staggered, Jin shouted.

“Don’t forgive! I don’t forgive either! So…”

At last, he could see Jin’s face.

“Let’s live.”

Jin was crying.

“Woomin, let’s live together.”

He could hold back no longer.

Life had been endless suffering. Even as he prepared to end it all, Jin’s cry shook his heart.

I want to live, with Jaemin and him. I wanted us all to live happily together, as before, without any pain. Han Naeyung clutched his chest and wept. The quiet man, the fragile Jung Woomin, now let out a scream-like wail.

There was a bird in an open cage. Its clipped wings prevented it from flying, and it cried out within its cage. That bird was Han Naeyung himself. But now, he had to leave the cage and take flight.

“I’m sorry, Hyung… it’s already… too late.”

Honestly, I never once resented you. I’m sorry for lying, even now.

Han Naeyung grabbed the floundering Jang Joontae. Jaemin, it’s so high up here… how terrified you must have been. Han Naeyung looked down and sobbed.

The wind blew again. Meow—a cat’s cry, familiar and distant, echoed in his ears. Holding the limp Jang Joontae, Han Naeyung threw himself forward. It all happened in an instant.

“Woomin!”

Jin’s anguished cry reverberated through the building.

* * *

Jin’s body trembled.

A single second’s delay, a moment’s hesitation, and this frail body would have been torn apart. Blood ran down Jin’s arm, pierced by protruding glass, flowing onto Han Naeyung.

Han Naeyung looked up at Jin, who held his arm. Drops of Jin’s tears fell onto his cheek. It felt as though the wind might carry him away, leaving him swaying in the void.

“Hold on! Don’t let go!”

Jin’s arm, braced against the window ledge, sank under the weight. Han Naeyung’s body shook as well. Sharp glass cut deeper into his flesh. Jin clung to Han Naeyung, his veins thickening as blood continued to pour.

“Let… go, Hyung. You’re getting hurt.”

Even though Han Naeyung tried to grip Jin’s hand, it was as if all life had drained from his body. His hand slipped once more due to the blood streaming down Jin’s arm.

“Woomin… Jung Woomin.”

Jin called his name once again, and Han Naeyung couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Words, choked in his throat, lingered in his mouth. The sound of Jin’s suit tearing against the jagged glass was stark. His flesh tore alongside it. Jin groaned in pain.

The shards of glass embedded in the window frame dug mercilessly into Jin’s arm as he fought to pull Han Naeyung up.

Please, hold on, Woomin…

Jin wept. The heat of his tears and blood seeped onto Han Naeyung’s skin.

Desperately, Han Naeyung tried to cling to Jin, reaching out with small, futile gestures. He reached out, but his hand slipped each time due to the blood. Jin braced himself even more firmly against the pillar.

Who knows how long they swayed in midair. Jin was willing to endure any pain, fearing that the wind might take Han Naeyung away. He would sacrifice his arm if it meant saving him. Jin pulled Han Naeyung back up.

When his body was finally lifted onto solid ground, Jin’s arm was already in tatters. Panting heavily, Jin embraced Han Naeyung with one arm. The rough breaths he took assured him that they were both alive. Han Naeyung’s clouded mind cleared abruptly as he noticed Jin’s wounds. His shirt was soaked with Jin’s blood.

His vision blurred, unable to discern the extent of the injury. Jin held Han Naeyung tighter as he wept.

“I almost lost you… again.”