Destruction — Chapter 15
by Brie- Sorrow
As they headed toward the restroom where the other men had gone, Woobeom organized his thoughts. When he first saw the director in the city, the unease he had felt then was now clear in his mind. The director’s face had been embedded in one of the reports he had received before leaving the gangster life behind.
— Boss, Shin Kyungtaek has taken over an orphanage this time.
— An orphanage?
— Yeah, he’s teamed up with the Ritao Qian side and is selling kids to China… If he gets too big, he might try to start another turf war.
Shin Kyungtaek was part of a group that opposed the one Woobeom had belonged to. That was why Woobeom always heard things whenever Shin made a move. If Shin’s faction gained more power, it could trigger a territory conflict—a turf war.
Ritao Qian was a notorious criminal in China, and after his release, he had become active in human trafficking. It looked like Shin Kyungtaek had received a large investment from Ritao Qian and was shipping children overseas to expand his operations.
“They said Shin Kyungtaek planted one of his men as the assistant director… yeah, that’s right.”
Apparently, Shin had sent his subordinate to oust the existing director and replace him with someone loyal. Clearly, the plan had been progressing behind the scenes.
“Looks like Shin Kyungtaek’s gotten really greedy—if he’s stooping to using idiots like this.”
Standing at the entrance to the restroom, Woobeom snorted at the sound of Go Jeongju’s loud voice echoing inside. Didn’t they know you weren’t supposed to run your mouth like that when discussing secrets? Well, he’d already sensed back in the underground parking lot that these guys weren’t exactly bright.
Before they’d left Gangnam, Choi Daeseok had gone ahead, claiming he’d load up the luggage. But it seemed he had other intentions—he’d drained the gas from the car in advance. Probably to use refueling as an excuse to stop at a rest area and rework their twisted plan.
“No matter how rushed you are, you don’t just spill gasoline.”
Before getting in the car, Woobeom had noticed the area around the gas cap looked slick, and there were a few drops of liquid on the ground nearby. The smell had made it easy to figure out it was gasoline, and when he checked the fuel gauge after getting in, it was predictably empty. Their excuse about stopping at the rest area hadn’t missed the mark either. It was almost funny how predictable their actions were.
“Ah, fuck, that bastard Yeom Kang brought someone along all of a sudden! Now we’re wasting time for no reason!”
It was Go Jeongju’s voice. Woobeom leaned his back against the entrance, listening in on what they were saying.
“You sure Jo Taesik’s dead? That damn old man was useless too, acting like a big shot while coasting as assistant director. Good riddance.”
“Yeah, last I checked the orphanage CCTV, even the assistant director had turned into a monster.”
“Shit… I told Ritao Qian we’d be at the port by three, but of course the damn internet goes down…”
“What about those two?”
“Shit, right… Would it be harder to ditch that big guy? Damn… whatever. Maybe we just feed them to it. As long as the organs are intact, it’s fine. Let’s ask Ritao Qian for more money later. Fuck, I never thought I’d have to smuggle myself out because of a damn virus.”
“As long as the organs are intact, huh…”
Mulling over what they had just said, Woobeom nodded as he finished assessing the situation. The new virus outbreak hadn’t spared the orphanage either, and it seemed the assistant director was already dead. Realizing how serious things had gotten, the two had apparently decided to offer up the director to Ritao Qian in exchange for passage out of the country.
The unexpected guests who had thrown a wrench in that plan were Saejin and Woobeom.
“But maybe Yoon Saejin won’t be sold off, if he gets on Ritao Qian’s good side? I mean, at most, he’d be used as a government role or something.”
Hearing them giggling while mocking Saejin stirred up a feeling Woobeom couldn’t quite define. He clenched his molars so hard it made his jaw ache. Rubbing his tense neck and jaw, he stared coldly at the blunt weapon in his hand. It was disgusting. Woobeom could feel his emotions slipping out of control and made a conscious effort to steady himself.
He had to wait for the two to separate. It wasn’t that handling them both at once would be difficult, but it would be inefficient—so he decided to act rationally.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom.”
Just then, Choi Daeseok excused himself to go to the restroom, leaving Go Jeongju alone. After wiping blood off his hands at the sink, Go Jeongju glanced around and walked over to the hand dryer.
The dryer faced away from the entrance, which made it the perfect chance to approach him from behind. Just a bit closer. Woobeom silently waited for the moment the dryer would activate and cover his presence.
Whirr—.
The moment the machine turned on, its noise masked Woobeom’s movements completely.
No need to muffle his footsteps now. There was no hesitation in his approach. In one swift motion, Woobeom grabbed Go Jeongju from behind and immediately clamped a hand over his mouth and nose before he could make a sound. The cheap hand dryer drowned out even his desperate thrashing.
“…Ggkk!”
Physically speaking, Go Jeongju was no match for Jung Woobeom. His neck snapped before he could even fight back, and a final groan escaped through the covered mouth. Woobeom laid his wide-eyed, lifeless body down on the floor and turned toward the restroom stall where Daeseok must be. As soon as Go Jeongju’s breath stopped, the air grew razor sharp.
Each step Woobeom took echoed evenly on the tiled floor. The composed rhythm of his dress shoes sounded like a predator closing in on its prey. Maybe because he had sharper instincts, Daeseok had already sensed that something was wrong and was holding his breath. Woobeom stopped in front of the stall marked “vacant.”
‘Not bad instincts.’
He must have done something to hide his presence, but it wasn’t enough. Daeseok had failed to account for the fact that movements could still be seen through the gap under the door. Smirking at the half-baked trick, Woobeom took a breath and kicked the door in with his full weight.
“Argh!”
A voice cried out—likely hit by the door—and then Daeseok lunged at him, teeth clenched.
When Woobeom dodged every punch with ease, the man grew more desperate and closed the distance, trying to drive a knee upward. But in his agitated state, and with Woobeom having both more experience and composure, it was impossible to land a decisive blow.
Eventually, Woobeom didn’t even bother dodging anymore. As if he’d figured out Daeseok’s level, he casually caught the man’s hand mid-swing.
“What is this… Are you kidding me?”
There wasn’t even disappointment in his voice. It was clear the man had never learned how to throw a proper punch. The way he was trying to put power into his strikes was all wrong. Ready to end this sorry fight, Woobeom twisted Daeseok’s wrist and brought his blunt weapon down hard on it.
The clean break drove bone through skin. The pain was so intense that Daeseok screamed loud enough to rattle the whole rest stop. One by one, the monsters inside began creeping in.
“…What a pointless mess.”
If he wasted any more time, the creatures would swarm them and drain his strength. Woobeom knocked Daeseok over and straddled him, bringing his fist down with weight powered by his upper body. The blows hit like bricks.
Daeseok’s vision blurred after the first hit. By the second, he blacked out completely. Confirming that the man was no longer resisting, Woobeom took a deep breath and scanned his limp body. That’s when he noticed the bulge at Daeseok’s waist.
‘A gun?’
Tucked in his waistband was a pistol. There was no way the organization would give a weapon like that to someone who couldn’t even fight. That left only one answer.
“So it was you guys? The ones who hit the police station.”
Woobeom muttered to the unconscious Daeseok as he calmly examined the gun. He’d already suspected it when they hadn’t pulled it out from the beginning, but now he confirmed it—the magazine was empty. It had already been used on someone.
A useless gun didn’t interest him.
Woobeom pulled out Daeseok’s phone and looked through his texts, photos, and contacts. There was plenty to see—records of contacts with Ritao Qian were all there. The messages were full of details about sending children to China.
‘Honestly, the world’s better off without scum like this.’
If he’d had a bullet, he would’ve put it between the man’s eyes, but it seemed that wasn’t an option. Grabbing a fistful of Daeseok’s hair, Woobeom dragged him across the floor toward the sink, not caring if the scalp tore.
Even unconscious, Daeseok groaned from the pain. Woobeom stared at him for a moment—then slammed the back of his head against the corner of the sink. Again. And again.
The savage act turned the restroom into a blood-soaked mess. His raincoat was soaked too.
“…Maybe this was overboard.”
If the already-sensitive Yoon Saejin saw him come back covered in blood, he might faint on the spot. Woobeom removed one layer of the raincoat and carefully wiped the blood off his face using a hand towel.
Strength returned to the limp arms, and the dead-fish look in the director’s eyes began to clear. Slowly, but unmistakably, his gaze, which had been drifting through empty space, shifted to meet Saejin’s face.
“Director… are you feeling a bit better now?”
“Saejin… is that you?”
He sounded like he was seeing Saejin for the first time again, as if they were still in the car. ‘What are you doing here?’ His tone betrayed the confusion of a man whose memory was flickering. Caught off guard by the director’s behavior, Saejin couldn’t hide his shock either. It seemed the director couldn’t recall anything from before he’d taken the pills. But the haze only lasted a moment before he let out a sigh. His memory was returning.
“Director, how long have you been taking these?”
Realizing the seriousness, Saejin lifted the pill bottle with a concerned look.
“Hmm? Oh… I’ve been taking them ever since the assistant director came. Said they were good for an old man’s health… I couldn’t say no.”
“I think there’s something wrong with these. No matter how much I shook you, you wouldn’t wake up… Your arms and legs just went completely limp. Do you know how scared I was?”
Overcome with emotion, Saejin broke down in tears and threw himself into the director’s arms. The director gently patted his back, trying to soothe him.
“That can’t be…”
That can’t be true. The director couldn’t finish the sentence. Something was starting to click. Lately, he’d been having frequent mental blanks and worsening memory lapses. He’d assumed it was just old age, but now that Saejin questioned it, the pills suddenly felt suspicious. After all, the memory problems started around the same time he began taking them.
“What… what’s been going on at the orphanage?”
Back at the shop, the director had started to mention the orphanage’s current state but then brushed it off as needless worry. The sudden appearance of the assistant director, the strange people he brought with him, the pills disguised as supplements—Saejin had left the orphanage, but to him, the director was like a father, and the orphanage, a home.
‘I have to know.’
This time, he wasn’t backing down. Sensing Saejin’s resolve, the director relented and began explaining everything that had happened over the past year. The strange occurrences he had once dismissed as mere worries now reached Saejin one by one.
“…You lost contact with them?”
It was hard to believe. Sure, it wasn’t unheard of for some adopted children to stop keeping in touch after leaving the orphanage. But for so many to be adopted overseas in such a short time—and all to cut off contact—was more than suspicious. And it had all started after the assistant director showed up.
‘Why…?’
Something felt deeply wrong, but he still couldn’t guess why such things were happening. After all, an average person wouldn’t immediately link a surge in overseas adoptions to human trafficking.
Biting his lip in the rising panic, Saejin waited for Woobeom to return. He was certain Woobeom knew something.
‘Come to think of it… why isn’t he back yet?’
Saejin moved to the window in a flurry of nerves. It had been quite a while since Woobeom left, but there was still no sign of him. Maybe the sound of the car engine had drawn more monsters closer. His tiny courage kept shrinking by the second.
“I shouldn’t have left the kids alone… We were supposed to go on the inspection together.”
Perhaps imagining the terrified children trembling in the middle of the virus outbreak, the director finally voiced the anxiety he’d bottled up. Just as Saejin reached out to comfort him, holding his hand, shadows moved outside the rest stop restaurant. A group of strangers started running toward their car.