The Hunter

Beom Taeho sank deep into the moderately worn leather sofa and thought about the man.
K, who favored a white shirt that contrasted with the black shirt he always wore.
A long time ago, when he was deeply involved in the organization, he had had a conversation like this with a man whose face he no longer remembered.

“Hey, newbie. You know why gangster bastards’ clothes are all black?”
“No, sir.”
“Even among gangster bastards, it’s only the ones who use their bodies like us who wear black. The ones at the top who just snap their fingers and give orders only wear white.”
“What’s the reason?”
“A kind of power display. It means everything is taken care of before the blood splatters on their clothes. Taeho, have you ever seen a grunt wearing a tie?”
“Hmm… I don’t think so.”
“It’s the same thing. What else would happen if bastards like us wore a tie, other than getting choked? It’s something they do.”

Beom Taeho tapped his foot, which was resting on the table.
Countless drops of blood had splattered on these black dress shoes, whose shine had faded, and then been wiped away.
They were the shoes the Head had given him as a gift not long after they first met.

‘Blood stains leather the darkest, but if you wipe it off at the right time, there’s nothing like leather.’
‘……’
‘What are you staring at? I don’t believe in the saying that if you give someone shoes, they’ll run away. Because I’ll chase them down and cut off their ankles. Hurry up and try them on.’

The face that had uttered those words had been so bright.
When he put his foot in, following the Head’s fingertip, the shoes, which fit as if they were made for him, made him feel as if he were wearing a leash.
Come to think of it, it felt more like a restraint than a leash.
It was a stimulation he had never experienced before in his life.
Being insensitive to sensations is an excessive advantage in this industry.
He never screamed hideously in pain like others, nor did he ever get close enough to someone to be taken hostage.
That’s why, paradoxically, Beom Taeho found life boring.
The only sensation that excited him was violence.

“C-crazy bastard… Stop, stop it! You’re really going to get in big trouble! You’ll die!”

It seemed to have started with a slap.
He had retorted to the question of why an orphan bastard was staring so intently.

“…I don’t know when that will be, but you’ll end up like me eventually.”

At those words, the rich boy had walked over gracefully and slapped his cheek.

Smack!

With a palm, not a fist.
So Beom Taeho had returned the favor in kind.

“You crazy bastard, did you just hit me?”
“You hit me first.”

Next came a fist.
He returned it.
Then came a kick.
Violence is learned quickly.
At the orphanage where he had only ever been hit, Beom Taeho, for the first time, returned the violence he had received to someone.
He knew the act of someone hitting him, but not the pain of being hit.
He just recalled the places that had ached a little when he was hit and raised his fist and his foot.
The one who had slapped him first cried and writhed with every blow he delivered.
He had no parents to kneel for him, nor did he have any siblings.
So no particular thoughts came to mind.

“How can you let an orphan bastard like this attend the same school as my son! I can’t stand for this! I’m going to file a formal complaint with the education office and report it!”
“Oh my, ma’am! Please calm down! Taeho, what are you doing! Hurry up and apologize!”
“…He slapped me first.”
“You little!”

As Beom Taeho’s fingertip pointed at him, the graceful child was gone, and the floor where he had been standing became wet.

“Oh my, what’s wrong with him! Minseong!”
“M-mommy… I-I’m scared…”

Violence is like that.
Once it’s imprinted on the body, it’s not easily erased.
For both the one who inflicts it, and the one who receives it.
That day, Beom Taeho had a faint premonition of what kind of life he would lead.
He was not good at anything other than fighting, and even if he was, there was no one to tell him.
He grew up, continuing a mix of light and heavy fights.
He dropped out of high school and, before becoming an adult, even stayed briefly with a rather famous organization.

‘Why are you leaving? With your skills, you could climb higher in a few years.’
‘Because it’s boring. It’s ridiculous that it takes years to get there.’
‘What, you punk? What a way to talk.’

But the hierarchy of the organization was not decided by fists alone, and Beom Taeho was disappointed by that.

‘It’s too boring. What else do we do besides follow the boss around saying ‘boss, boss’ all day.’
‘If we fought and stabbed each other with sashimi knives all the time, no one would be left alive, you bastard. So what are you going to do if you leave here.’
‘I’m going to enlist.’

The army, which he had joined because he had nowhere else to stay, was more fun than he thought.
The strict hierarchy suited his personality.
And so, Beom Taeho volunteered for a conflict zone.
The only stimulation he had ever experienced and learned in his life was the tension that violence provided.
That was the greatest pleasure and entertainment in his life.
In war, bullets rained down like hail, and killing someone was also legal.

Bang, bang!

The bullets that could fly from anywhere at any moment, the screams everywhere, the various red scenes he saw every time he turned his head.
All of that made Beom Taeho feel that he was alive.
Then, one day.

“Which bastard called for backup?”
“I-it was me, sir.”

The enemies who had given him pleasure every day were annihilated in vain by the reinforcements his subordinate had called.

“Without even reporting to me, on your own?”
“I-I’m sorry, sir! But our side was numerically inferior… Ugh!”

The war he had deliberately dragged out had ended in an instant, so Beom Taeho had to return as well.
Beom Taeho indiscriminately beat the subordinate who had raised his hand.
Until his anger subsided.
When his anger had subsided, the subordinate did not move.

“He’s not breathing. I think he’s dead…”

The army was a closed organization to begin with.
He had no intention of explaining that one person had died, nor did he have the will to do so.

“It was an accident, right?”

It was intentional.
But there was an answer that the higher-ups wanted.
It was a direction that wasn’t bad for Beom Taeho either.

“Yes.”

And so, the manslaughter conviction, obtained with the statement and testimony that he ‘had no intention of killing him,’ led him to prison.

“You’re new?”

But that place was similar.
In fact, it was similar to the places where Beom Taeho had wandered before the army.
If they came at him with their fists, he fought back with his fists, and if they came at him with a weapon from who knows where, he would knock them down first.
After a while, no one raised their heads.
For several years, Beom Taeho ruled like a king.

“Haha, I’ve been waiting for the day you’d get out.”
“Who are you?”
“Hmm, I’ve heard a lot about you thanks to our boys who have been in and out. How about doing a job with me? The pay won’t be disappointing.”

On the day of his release, a man offered him a block of pale tofu and made a proposal.
Beom Taeho took a handful of the tofu with his bare hands, chewed on it, and nodded.
Once again, it was because he had nowhere else to go.
The man was a big shot who managed mercenaries in the underworld.
The things he brought him were all to Beom Taeho’s liking.
He could live, even while being broken somewhere.
It wasn’t bad.
Because he was happiest when hot blood was on his hands.
And when he returned with those hands, a great reward was prepared for him.
As the money piled up, Beom Taeho’s name also became famous.

“What’s this?”
“An advance. It’s the same as usual. Just take care of one person.”
“This much for an advance? He must be a chaebol.”
“Well, something similar. Here’s the picture.”

The face of the target in the picture was as pale as the tofu he had eaten a handful of on the day of his release.

‘He’s pretty.’

That’s what he had thought.
In cases like this, it was usually the illegitimate child of a chaebol.

“Should I make it look like an accident?”
“As usual, as discreetly as possible. You have another schedule, so come back quickly.”
“Yes.”

Bang!

However, contrary to his prediction that he would return within the estimated time, Beom Taeho was trapped in the building.

“What the fck…”

The floor plan of the building he had received was different from the actual structure.
There was a new room within a room, and a space appeared where a hallway was supposed to be.
The more he walked, the more he felt he was getting trapped deeper.

‘Someone’s already been here. Who? Is it a trap?’

Every time he grabbed a doorknob and turned it, the smell of freshly spilled blood or corpses that had been dead for a long time greeted him.
But among those lifeless faces, the face of the target was not there.
There was no sign of human presence either.
It was one of two situations.
Either this itself was a trap, or the target had eliminated all the people who had come looking for him so far.
Just as he was thinking that his life, which he wouldn’t regret dying at any moment, was ending so meaninglessly, a voice fell from the ceiling.
It was a moderately low, beautiful voice.

[You’re quite persistent. I’ll give you a chance for your commendable effort of opening almost all the rooms.]
[The building will explode in one minute.]
[If you move as I say from now on, you’ll see a door.]
[Right at the end of the hallway.]

The voice pouring down from the ceiling, which was tightly packed with tiles without a single gap, felt like a hallucination.
As he looked up at the black ceiling, he had the illusion that he had made eye contact with someone.

[What are you doing? Run.]

As if whispering in his ear.

Tap-tap-tap!

No matter how much Beom Taeho ran, the volume of the voice was constant.
He kicked the floor with all his might and chased the exit.

Clank.

At that moment, the door that had looked like a wall opened on its own.
Beom Taeho pushed the door with his shoulder and rolled onto the floor.

BOOM!

The building he had been wandering in until just a moment ago exploded, and his back was brightly lit.
The back of his neck was hot.
The grass, now smudged with flames, shone like a sunset.

Thud.

A pair of shiny leather shoes appeared before his eyes.
As he brushed aside his sweat-soaked hair, a cool muzzle touched him.

“Wow, you really made it out alive? Not bad. There hasn’t been a single one so far. That’s why I like you, but before that, I have a few questions to ask.”

The voice that had been luring him until just a moment ago really did scatter in his ear.
Unbeknownst to him, the human presence had increased. And the fact that numerous muzzles were aimed at him.

“You saw what was inside, right?”
“…Yes.”
“Do you want to be like them, or do you want to be my bich?”
“I will serve you.”

His heart pounded.
The muzzle that had been pressing on his head was removed.
The man smiled and used the barrel of the gun to lift Beom Taeho’s chin.

Swoosh.

The man’s face was more picturesque than in the photos.
Looking at the flames reflected in the man’s clear, brown eyes, Beom Taeho thought.
Ah, by this man’s side…
Life would be interesting.

Leaving the bustling casino, Beom Taeho checked his phone again.
He looked at the photo, just like when he first saw the Head.

‘The white is quite similar.’

However, the identity of the target was quite questionable.

‘A lawyer…’

A lawyer from Korea in the Philippines.
He couldn’t figure out why the Head wanted to eliminate this man.
But he didn’t need a reason.

Vibrate.

“What.”
[The mercenaries have attacked, boss. They say they’re holding you responsible for the guys who were sent to the hospital.]

A normal person would have been angry.
But Beom Taeho quietly folded his eyes and smiled.

“Send the kids out first. I’ll be there soon.”

He didn’t need a reason.
Because if he followed the Head’s words, such enjoyable things would happen.

“It’s really in a hard-to-find place.”
“The security is tight.”
“Be careful.”

Lee Ilwoo urged, not taking his eyes off the telephoto camera.
Kevin reached out from the back seat and asked.

“Why does the company care about such trash?”

Lee Ilwoo answered nonchalantly, adjusting the focus.

“Are thoughts important for an agent? The order is always the top priority.”
“Disgusting bastards… they think of people as consumables.”

Instead of replying to Kevin’s loud mutter, we kept our gazes fixed.
It was then.

BANG!