Taesung
„Na daesin gajyeoga." Taeju speaks to me in Korean, thrusting his cold, heavy pistol into my hand as he does so. I have the one that Hyunjin gave me before we left, but clearly there's no need to use it. I have no idea, what he has just said to me, or what I am supposed to do. I hold the cold weapon in my hand, the metal burning my palm, and stand there like a stiff "Y". A poor man kneels before me with his hands behind his head, staring at the dirty ground. I don't know what is expected of me right now. In this suffocating moment.
„Geuui meolie chong-eul gyeonueola," says Hyunjin, raising his voice and speaking to me in Korean. His voice cuts through the silence like a sharp knife. I frown and adopt a blank expression. Don't they realise, that I don't understand a word they're saying? I'm about to speak up, when he gestures to indicate exactly, what he wants me to do. If he hadn't done that, it probably wouldn't have happened. Why is he speaking to me in his native language when he knows, I can't speak a fucking word of it? If he hadn't made that gesture, this misunderstanding wouldn't have happened. That gesture condemned me.
He has just signalled, that he wants me to kill this man. I immediately remembered his warning, which he had repeated twice - orders are simply to be obeyed. He expects us to carry out any order he gives. I don't want to kill someone, but do I have a choice? It's either him or me.
I raise the gun to the man's head, take a deep breath and feel my fingers tremble. I'm about to pull the trigger. But I can't do it. I can't overcome my resistance to pressing my index finger any further. My stomach clenches. Unfortunately for me, it wasn't even necessary. The slightest pressure on the trigger, while I was deciding, was enough to make the gun go off with a deafening bang. The sudden recoil catches me off guard, causing me to jerk my hand away.
Ryu falls at my feet, blood streaming from the wound on his head and spreading across the floor. I drop the gun and, with a foggy and frightened gaze, look back at Hanil, who has just burst through the door. My gaze shifts from Hanil to Hyunjin, who looks terrifying. He is furious. But why? He indicated, that I should kill Ryu. Or not?
„I-I did what you wanted." I begin to defend myself, feeling my lower lip tremble. I see Hyunjin pull the sharp knife he used to kill Ryu's companion out of his pocket and head swiftly towards me. I'm scared, my chest tightens. For the first time, since I've known him, I feel like he actually wants to hurt me. And maybe he does.
„Why did you kill him?!" He shouts at me in English, his voice echoing off the room's walls like thunder. Grabbing me by the collar of my shirt, he drags me to a massive table.
„You told me to!" I defend myself, my voice breaking. „You made the gesture, suggested I kill him!" He pushes me hard, and I fall heavily to my knees. He takes my hand, grips it firmly, and places it on the table. He holds my hand like a vice, preventing me from moving. My fingers are spread out on the tabletop.
„I told you to put the gun to his head! Not to blow his brains out!" I look him in the eye. All I can see is pure rage directed at me.
„You know I don't speak Korean!" I shout, desperately trying to break free, but his grip is like iron. It's futile. Reaching out with his other hand, he holds a sharp knife that reflects the light from the chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I remember how easily he cut a stranger's throat a moment ago. How easy would it be for him to cut off my fingers?
„In this world, mistakes are punished, Taei." He swings his arm towards my hand. At that moment, I see everything in slow motion. A tear escapes from my eye.
„I'm sorry!" I shout, hiding my face under the table. I can't bear to watch as he cuts my fingers off. I wait for the burning, sharp pain. I hear the knife hit the table top, scream at the top of my lungs and flinch in fright.
„Take this as a warning," he whispers to my ear, he is so close to me. His breath is hot, his words poisonous. „Next time, I won't miss." He runs his hand through my hair, wraps a strand around his finger and jerks my head back, so that I can see his eyes. They burn with fire. Then he stands up and leaves me lying broken on the floor. Thank God for all five fingers on one hand.
... ༺༻ ...
On the way back from the meeting, from which we had learned nothing of substance and had left only two cold, dead bodies behind, the first heavy raindrops began to fall on the car. By the time we arrived at Hyunjin's house, the light drizzle had turned into a furious downpour, drumming on the car's roof like an endless war march.
They left me alone in the locked car, trapped in a cramped metal prison. For less than ten minutes, I was alone with my torn thoughts, reliving the bloody events of the day over and over again. Every detail was etched deeper into my brain, the sound of the gunshot, the smell of gunpowder and the sight of a bloodied face — a face that would never breathe again. This must never happen again. If it did, I could end up much worse off, than just missing a few fingers. I decided, that things had to change.
The car doors suddenly open and the three of them get back in without saying a word. I notice that they have changed into clean, dry clothes – they look unnaturally neat, as if they had not seen any blood tonight. Only I remained stained. Only I had marks on my hands, invisible but burning, like a hot iron. As they say, the blood stuck only to my hands.
I have no idea where we're going. No one is telling me anything and I'd rather not say anything either. I'm suffocating in this oppressive silence, where the only sound I can hear is the monotonous patter of rain on the window. I don't want to draw attention to myself. I don't want to talk to anyone — especially not Hyunjin, whose gaze is still etched in my mind like a sharp knife, ready for another attack.
... ༺༻ ...
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* Na daesin gajyeoga – Take it for me.
* Geuui meolie chong-eul gyeonueola – Put the gun to his head.
... ༺༻ ...
BLOOD DEBT (피의 빚)