BITM Ch3

Lee Seolhwa checked the memo.

JIN

010-XXX-XXX

The phone number was different from the one written on the initial chart. Even if Lee Seolhwa hadn’t separately written down the contact information, it seemed unlikely that there would be cause for concern. There was no unpleasant smell coming from the man. Rather, there was a somewhat different scent from the others…

“It seems like Nari’s father’s surname is Jin, or maybe his name is Jin. If it’s a surname… Are you perhaps Jin Nari?” 

Han Naeyung paused at Lee Seolhwa’s voice. Her kindness was still overshadowed by tension.

“Will the master be with you?”

From calculations to miscellaneous tasks, it was difficult for him to take care of the dog. Han Naeyung also had no intention of burdening Lee Seolhwa. He had accepted the leash himself, so much the better.

Nodding, he placed the memo on the examination table as Lee Seolhwa had instructed. As Lee Seolhwa had said, only the name ‘Jin’ was written on the memo. Like before, it was written in a poor hand.

As Lee Seolhwa went out to prepare for the opening, Han Naeyung lifted the dog. Perhaps due to the medication, the worn-out chair creaked under the weight of the bull terrier, which was larger than other breeds.

Han Naeyung gently stroked the ears of the dog, which twitched anxiously, unsure of where the sound was coming from. As he massaged around its buttocks, he felt the tension leaving its stiff body.

“People are not always bad,” Han Naeyung muttered as he comforted the dog.

***

“Wasting manpower, wasting time. What a mess all because of the stupid public prosecutor.”

“Be careful with your words, Chief.”

At the words of Chief Prosecutor Seon Wookjae, investigative assistant and field officer Lee Inyung lowered his voice.

“Did I say something wrong? What kind of situation is it when the prosecutor in charge of the trial doesn’t understand the case itself? What’s the point of us burning the midnight oil to investigate? Even if we go to that idiot, it’ll just turn into a mess.”

“Why are you losing sleep?” 

“Inyung, I’m not in the mood for jokes.” 

“I don’t even have the energy to get excited.”

Seon Wookjae, who had been sidelined in the conversation, redirected the arrow elsewhere. He was a man sitting against the blind window. The light filtering through the blinds flickered onto the shoulders of the man in the black suit.

From his smooth forehead to his properly curved nose, his appearance was enough to evoke admiration every time. Seon Wookjae quietly observing the man made it seem like defendants or witnesses occasionally lost their minds for a reason. Even though he saw himself like this every day, it must have been a first for those who saw him now.

“Prosecutor Jin.”

Seon Wookjae called out to the man.

“What are you thinking?”

“We still have time until the trial, so let’s wait and see a bit longer.”

At the prosecutor Jin’s response, Seon Wookjae furrowed his eyebrows. He thought he wasn’t listening to the conversation at all, but apparently, he was catching snippets.

Four months ago, Investigative Chief Seon Wookjae was assigned a missing person case suspected of murder.

The police pointed to the missing victim’s fiancé as the prime suspect. The two, each with their own families, had developed a deep relationship through an internet community and had been seeing each other for about a year.

During this time, the woman who had been caught cheating by her husband broke up with her fiancé and went missing a few days later. The last person she contacted was her fiancé, who sent her threatening messages refusing to break up.

Threatened with killing her entire family if she didn’t come out immediately, the woman reluctantly went to meet her fiancé and never returned. The suspect denied his involvement. He admitted to sending threatening messages but claimed he didn’t meet the woman in person. The police couldn’t find any evidence to overturn the suspect’s claims.

Prosecutor Jin understood Seon Wookjae’s frustration. It was because during the investigation, a large amount of blood was detected in the back seat of the suspect’s car. Due to thorough cleaning with bleach, it was difficult to find any intact DNA.

After numerous hardships, the forensic team finally found undecomposed DNA, which matched the victim’s. Although the body was not found, it was acknowledged that there was enough bleeding to cause fatal injuries. They thought it was game over with this evidence, but the suspect stubbornly refused to confess to the crime.

The prosecutor fell silent at the defense attorney’s rebuttal, which claimed that the suspect had a hobby of hunting antelopes, wild boars, and such in areas recognized by the state as hunting grounds. The defense attorney also argued that the blood found in the back seat belonged to animals hunted during such excursions.

“While Attorney Park is busy running his mouth, the prosecutor’s lips are sealed tight,” remarked the defense.

“We’re participating in this trial too, so let’s calm down,” said Prosecutor Jin, offering comfort to Seon Wookjae, who was considerably older.

The process leading up to Prosecutor Jin standing in the courtroom was not particularly complicated. It typically involved the police responding to the initial report, investigating, and if the evidence of a crime was found, forwarding the case to the prosecutor’s office. There, the case was divided between investigative prosecutors who handled the investigation and trial prosecutors who participated in the court proceedings.

In other words, trial prosecutors relied on the investigative prosecutor’s findings to participate in the trial. It was not very common for both investigative and trial prosecutors to appear in court. Amidst dozens of ongoing investigations, everyone was on edge about having to jump into the trial as well.

Prosecutor Jin, however, considered it fortunate to be participating in the trial. Though he didn’t show it, the fact that his assigned trial prosecutor wasn’t very competent was a concern.

There was nothing particularly surprising about it. A nine-to-five job only happened once or twice a year. His desk was already piled high with ongoing investigation files.

“Prosecutor,” Seon Wookjae called him with a serious expression.

“Yes?”

“Have you ever thought about becoming a righteous murderer?”

“If it’s justice, then it’s justice. But do you have to commit murder for it?”

As Prosecutor Jin was flipping through the documents, he casually flicked a piece of paper with a gesture that could be interpreted as malicious.

“There are murderers who only target other murderers, you know. It’s a pretty famous TV show, haven’t you seen it?”

“Well, that’s going too far.”

“Oh, was I too harsh? Haha.”

Seon Wookjae scratched his cheek, looking embarrassed.

“It’s a betrayal that you have time to watch dramas.”

Prosecutor Jin gestured towards the piled-up documents with his eyes.

“By the way, what were you saying about a child this morning? Did you bring one along from somewhere?” Seon Wookjae quickly diverted the conversation.

“It’s like having a newborn, lots of work and hassle,” replied Prosecutor Jin.

Seon Wookjae and Lee Inyung looked shocked at Prosecutor Jin’s words.

“Adoption… Did you adopt?” Lee Inyung tightened his grip on the mouse.

“Well, something like that,” replied Prosecutor Jin.

Having separated the organized and unprocessed documents, Prosecutor Jin stood up from his seat. He checked the time while the two still had shocked expressions on their faces.

It was already 7 o’clock. If the head veterinarian of the animal hospital left Nari tied to a utility pole outside the hospital, it would be troublesome. Of course, he trusted that wouldn’t happen.

“I’m leaving work early today.”

“Wow, how unfair! It was a simultaneous grumble from both of them. Lee Inyung put on his coat and followed Prosecutor Jin outside. Although curious about what was going on, he kept quiet until the office door closed.

“You had something you wanted to ask me for a while, right?”

“What happened?”

Prosecutor Jin asked without much thought.

“No matter how hard I try to search, it’s too broad. With just a name, there are countless people with the same name. It’s almost impossible to find…,” Lee Inyung’s voice trailed off.

Prosecutor Jin glanced at his wristwatch.

“I understand.”

Lee Inyung blinked. He never expected the person who knew how difficult it was to give up.

“Until when does the person know?”

He bit his lip, holding back his words. Prosecutor Jin had never shown disappointment at not finding something yet. But that didn’t mean he gave up. To her, Prosecutor Jin’s request was no different from searching for a lost item inside the house when it was lost outside. It seemed like a waste of meaningless time.

Prosecutor Jin smiled slightly towards Lee Inyung with a look of incomprehension. He was grateful for his willingness to accommodate his request, especially considering his heavy workload.

“I should go before it gets any later.”

“Where to?”

“To pick up my child.”

Lee Inyung looked at Prosecutor Jin, who was smiling, as if he couldn’t believe it. Unlike other superiors he had encountered, Prosecutor Jin wasn’t authoritative, but he was someone whose sincerity and jokes were often indistinguishable. A person hard to read. That’s how Lee Inyung generally saw Prosecutor Jin.

***

As the cold began to set in, the animal hospital was busier than usual. Throughout the day, the sounds of animals sniffling, indicating signs of a cold, filled the air, with dogs and cats alike.

The bull terrier, gradually calming down in the cramped examination room, sat quietly at Han Naeyung’s feet. It was unclear whether it was because of the quiet Han Naeyung or the confined space that the dog seemed at ease.

When Han Naeyung finally snapped out of it, they realized that the closing time had long passed. As Han Naeyung stood up, the dog, which had been nodding off, also rose to its feet. It watched Han Naeyung leave without following.

Meanwhile, Lee Seolhwa, now changed into casual clothes, was getting ready to leave for the day. Han Naeyung spoke to Lee Seolhwa.

“Please come in 30 minutes later tomorrow.”

It was already well past the usual leaving time.

“I’ll just come in at my usual time, okay? And besides, you often let me leave early anyway.”

Lee Seolhwa added with a hint of frustration, “Please, don’t nitpick about these things.”

“You must be tired from talking more than usual, too, right, doctor?”

Han Naeyung nodded sympathetically.

“When will Nari’s father arrive? I wanted to see his face, but I guess I should leave first,” she said, pulling her coat zipper up to her chin before shutting down the computer. As she slung her crossbody bag over her shoulder, Lee Seolhwa bid her farewell.

“Take care.”

“Hey, didn’t our doctor speak quite eloquently today? Hehe, being busy isn’t always bad, huh? Well then, see you tomorrow.”

As she waved goodbye, Han Naeyung raised and lowered his hand in response before letting out a soft sigh and walking towards the examination room. He gestured to the dog lingering by the door to come over.

The dog hesitated, extending its front paw as if there were a needle on the threshold, then quickly pulling it back, unsure of what to do. Han Naeyung took off his gloves and knelt down, murmuring softly, “Humans… are scary.”

The dog, who had shown no interest in the animals coming in for treatment, suddenly started inching closer, observing Han Naeyung’s bare hands. Han Naeyung remained patient until the dog fully approached. Just as he was about to embrace it, the door swung open, accompanied by a blast of cold air and the ringing of the bell.

“Argh!”

Startled by the sudden noise, the dog bit Han Naeyung’s arm. Seeing this, a visitor rushed over and tried to forcibly separate Han Naeyung and the dog.

“Stay calm,” Han Naeyung said, turning his back while still holding the dog. The dog, realizing only belatedly that it had bitten a human, quickly let go. Blood began to seep through Han Naeyung’s white sleeve. The man who rushed over awkwardly scratched his head. He was the dog’s owner.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault for leaving it here.”

Han Naeyung removed his coat and checked the wound. It wasn’t deep enough to require stitches. He wiped away the blood with his coat sleeve. Seeing Han Naeyung’s actions, the man reached out his hand towards the bloodstains on the floor.

“Let’s get it properly treated.”

Han Naeyung withdrew his arm abruptly from the unexpected grip. The man was taken aback by the sudden rough response. He even momentarily wondered if his hand was dirty, it was such an unexpected reaction.

The man put the dog down and tied its leash to a chair in the waiting room. Meanwhile, Han Naeyung began to search for hydrogen peroxide among the displayed medications and started disinfecting his wrist. Not only the wound but his entire hand was being wiped with the solution. Watching this, he had a premonition that the reason for disinfection was not solely because of the wound.

It was not just a simple suspicion. The fact that someone who didn’t pay much attention to the wound suddenly spread disinfectant as soon as he touched it made him uneasy. The man quietly watched Han Naeyung until he finished disinfecting. Han Naeyung only wrapped the wound with bandages and put on disposable gloves without prescribing anything else.

“Are you okay?”

“This much is fine,” Han Naeyung replied nonchalantly.

“They said he needs to be euthanized,” the man sitting on the waiting room chair muttered, looking down at the dog.

“I freaked out when they said dogs raised for fighting should be put down. It’s bad for business if word gets out. Well, if it ends there, it might be a good deal.”

The hand that was patting the dog’s head seemed to be scolding someone for why they bit a person. Despite the stern tone, there was a sense of friendliness, perhaps due to the man’s choice of words.

“Should we euthanize him?”

The man asked Han Naeyung about his thoughts on the matter.

“I can… connect you to the hospital,” Han Naeyung replied, looking at the bandage on his wrist.

“What do you think, sir?”

Han Naeyung, who had remained silent for a long time, spoke as he looked at the bandage on his wrist.

“I disagree.”

The man who stood up from the chair responded with a voice mixed with laughter.

“Good. It was a dilemma if the veterinarian recommended euthanasia.”

The man approached Han Naeyung. Han Naeyung held his breath at the scent of the man’s skin as he came closer. It was a distance that could be crossed without touching, but today he had been troubled by several people, and he was more sensitive than usual.

The man stepped back, observing Han Naeyung’s pale face. He, too, had a rough idea of the situation. From the startled reaction when they touched, to the white gloves that had caught his eye from the beginning. He seemed like a teacher with some sort of germophobia. The man, as if to reassure himself, retreated a bit more, as if to say not to worry.

“By the way, this is who I am.”

The man took out a business card from his wallet and handed it over.

xx District Prosecutor’s Office, Prosecutor Jin

The contact information and email, even the name, were written only with surnames, making it overly concise. It was a simplified business card due to concerns that the profession could be exploited for criminal purposes. The contact information on the card was the same as the number he had written down in the morning.

“You can call me ‘Jin,’ or ‘Nari Appa,’ if you prefer.”

Whenever Jin revealed his identity, most people were either surprised or showed some hesitation at the title of “Prosecutor.” Han Naeyung’s reaction was also at a level where it could be overlooked without much thought. Yet, Jin still observed Han Naeyung intently.

“We need to… close the door.”

Han Naeyung, who had been looking at the business card with his head bowed, responded expressionlessly, as if wondering when she had been swayed. He ultimately did not take the business card Jin offered.

As if indicating to leave, Han Naeyung said nothing as Jin took hold of the leash. The dog, fixedly staring at Han Naeyung, didn’t flinch again.

Jin effortlessly slipped the dog onto his side as if it were a familiar routine. With a word of thanks, he left the animal hospital. Jin comforted the dog, now even more dejected than in the morning, and realized belatedly upon arriving at the car that he hadn’t paid the vet bill.

It didn’t sit well with his temperament.

“I’ll be back soon, so behave.”

Leaving the dog in the back seat, Jin returned to the animal hospital. He increased his pace, slightly faster than when he arrived. The animal hospital’s lights were dimmed, but the door wasn’t closed. Jin stopped for a moment, gazing up at the darkened sign.

Twin Animal Hospital

Now that I think about it, the name of the animal hospital is quite unique… It was a moment of hesitation as he murmured and opened the door to go in. At that moment, Han Naeyung, who had fetched water from the water dispenser, was putting two or three pills into his mouth. Then, with a bitter expression, he sat down in one of the waiting room chairs. Unaware that someone was watching from outside the door, he just kept his head down.

Jin quietly observed his hunched shoulders. Contemplating knocking on the door, he soon turned away without hesitation. Disrupting his rest wouldn’t be fitting, even though he didn’t match his temperament due to the injury. It might not be rest at all, but it was a fact that he seemed more tired than when he first saw him. Jin moved his steps quickly, considering he had already come this far.

Suddenly, Han Naeyung turned his head to glance at Jin’s retreating figure. Han Naeyung was aware of the man’s presence. Nonetheless, he pretended not to notice, unwilling to engage. Han Naeyung clenched the bandage in his left hand tightly, and blood seeped out little by little.

Han Naeyung’s daily life was always monotonous. At least on the surface.

***

“A person’s tongue is like a horse’s reins, it’s got wings attached to it. Think of it as similar to the sharp beak of a bird. Pet birds usually have their sharp beaks trimmed so they can’t fly away. Then, they can only flounder on the ground. Was that too difficult for you to understand? Anyway, if you want to keep them in our cramped space, you have to remove their wings. Especially your floundering tongue is the problem.”

“…Hyung!”

With the last cry from his brother, blood spurted out like a fountain from his mouth. The severed tongue fell forward with a thud.

“In that regard, how wise is it for the elder brother to hide his sharp beak himself. Take care of your younger brother from now on.”

His cheek was lightly pinched. The delicate bird with its wings clipped struggled on the operating table. It was inadequate in size and strength to embrace his writhing younger brother in his arms.

“God… God, please.”

Kneeling before his brother, who was frothing at the mouth, the man pleaded to the heavens as he gently touched his brother’s face. In that moment, the man knelt before his brother, his eyes raised toward the ceiling as if seeking divine guidance.

“Lord, forgive my sins.”

As he finished his repentance and looked up at the one who rose from despair, the man pointed to the mold-covered ceiling and chuckled grimly.

“God is not just your god. He is a fair one who shows mercy to me as well. Look, I am perfectly fine, aren’t I?”

Will you truly forgive our sins? Are you a fair god to all? If so, who will save us? If you do not punish, then shall I… shall I do it?

He lowered his gaze. Anger, fear, and hatred swirled in his moistened eyes. At the end of that gaze was his convulsing brother’s body. The man flipped his brother’s body over, causing blood to spew out as he vomited. Chuckling, he carried the small body on his shoulders, opening the iron gate.

“Honestly, don’t you think it’s fortunate?”

The blurry eyes and the precise meeting of gazes.

“Not for you.”

Flash!