15 The Man He Seeks

A tall and handsome man walked into the dingy cafe. Wearing a long trench coat and hat, he oozed of elegance. There was an air around him which screamed royalty, as if he was the picturesque king of a fairy tale who had stepped out of fiction and into the real world. The man's appearance at the rundown cafe was stirring quite a bit of attention.

The regular customers of the cafe were nowhere near his stature. They were mostly factory workers or slum dwellers who were there for a cheap glass of soju and unhygienic food.

The entry of the stranger was drawing everyone's interest. He was not one of them. The man was no doubt rich and probably even influential. Even if some of them harbored the idea of robbing him of his money, they would not dare to. Beneath the designer clothes and posh gestures, there was something deadly about the man. He may have ventured into their territory alone, but he had the power to destroy them in seconds.

Minho paid no attention to the eyes staring at him. He walked onwards, scanning around for the person who had summoned him to the cheap bar. Finally, he spotted the familiar face, sitting in a corner quietly sipping soju.

"Chief Kim," Minho greeted as he reached the old man. The detective looked up at him and scoffed.

"Hwang Minho!" he greeted back. "Come, sit here."

He ushered to the chair next to him. Minho raised an eyebrow and took out a disinfectant spray. He sprayed the chair with it before sitting on it.

"Afraid of getting infected by germs?" Kim Junwan laughed.

"No," Minho replied curtly. "I believe that if I catch an illness then I would have to take a day off. Taking a day off means I won't be able to earn money. My revenue per day is around five million dollars and if I end up missing at least a week due to an illness I may catch from here, then I'll lose thirty five million dollars! I can't let that happen now, can I?"

Junwan laughed loudly. "You haven't changed at all!" he remarked, still laughing. "Still the man who cares more about money than anything else."

"I have only two things," Minho stated. "My money and my daughter. That's all I need in life."

"Get a wife!" Junwan suggested. "Give that little girl a mother at least. God knows who her mother is and what she's doing-"

"You called me here?" Minho cut across him. "I'm assuming it's something important. If not, then you must excuse me. I have to go back home to my daughter."

"Still the rude boy from twenty six years ago," Junwan lamented.

"And you're still the failure of a detective from twenty six years ago," Minho commented. "I see you still have not caught my mother's killer."

Junwan was silent. Instead, he sipped more soju from his glass.

"Your father seems to have vanished entirely," Junwan said. "No matter how much I tried, he had completely erased all tracks of himself. No ID, no prints and no transactions. He left behind his money and all properties behind. No one had any contact with him for years. It's like he vanished! Poof!"

"Or it's because of your incompetence," Minho said, without batting an eyebrow. Junwan groaned.

Twenty six years ago, Junwan was a rookie detective in his early twenties who had just joined the homicide department. One night, they received a disturbing call from a young boy that his father had killed his mother. The call turned out to be from Hwang Minho, the heir to the Hwang Constructions and the murderer was Hwang Junho, the most powerful man in the country.

When the police arrived at the scene the mistress of the house, Kim Suna, was already dead. She had been stabbed in a critical point and given that she had given birth by c-section only a few weeks prior, the chances of her survival were minimal anyway. The only witness was her son Hwang Minho who testified against his father. The CCTV cameras also showed Heang Junho covered in blood, running away from the crime scene.

Junwan was put in charge of the case. He tried every nook and cranny to find Hwang Junho but the man was untraceable. He did not use any of his contacts nor were there any signs of him leaving the country. Where was he? What was he doing? Junwan had no answers.

Even though the statute of limitation on the case had expired and Hwang Junho was technically a free person, Minho kept on investigating his mother's murder. Junwan had aided him all these years, trying to locate Junho. Sometimes, they came close to tracking him in various places but before they could close in, Junho always managed to vanish.

"I need results," Minho demanded. "Not excuses. You're not doing your work well."

"Your father knows how to hide well," Junwan shot back. "He must have used one of his contacts who hid him. The question is, who?"

But Minho had enough. A dangerous gleam was shining in his eyes as he glared at Junwan. "Next time you dare to waste my time," he said as he got off his chair. "I'll make sure you'll not be able to live in this city anymore."

Junwan pursed his lips. Working for Hwang Minho had not been an easy ride so far. Even though Minho threatened him a lot, Junwan also knew that he depended on him a lot to find his mother's killer. All these years, Minho had hidden his agenda for vengeance. The image of his mother's still body haunted him, stalked him like an obsession. There was no escape from it at all.

"I'll try," Junwan sighed. "But what if we never find him?"

"We will," Minho vowed. I know he's out there, he added in his mind.

….

Gayoon was walking up the stairs to her neighborhood. It was a quiet night and the streets were almost empty except for a few passerbys. The residential area stood atop a man made hill which could only be climbed by a series of stairs located in the allwayways.

Her footsteps echoed throughout the whole area. Even though it was past midnight, Gayoon was not afraid to walk alone all by herself nor was she scared of being attacked by criminals. After dealing with spirits and their antics for many years, human beings no longer scared her. Instead, she was humming Blackpink's new song under her breath.

"Let's kill this love," she sang. "Sad but true."

After spending the afternoon with Jina, she was in a relatively happier mood. She also managed to exchange the night shift with another officer, so she had the rest of the time off to relax. On her way, she picked up some pickles and ramen for her grandma and neighbor.

Taking a right turn, she finally reached her house. It was a two storey house. She lived with her grandma on the ground floor while the upper floor was occupied by one of her grandma's old acquaintances.

She climbed up the stairs to the upper floor and knocked on the door.

"Ahjusshi!" she called out. "Ahjusshi!"

"Coming coming!" an irritated voice came from within. The door opened and a portly man in his sixties apparead. His hair was grey and the once handsome face was haggard with wrinkles. But upon seeing her, his lips broke into a wide smile.

"Gayoon my child!" he exclaimed. "I thought you were one of the darned kids. Come in!"

Gayoon happily darted inside. "I brought you your favorite ramen!" she declared.

The old man was delighted to hear that. "Ah our Gayoon is so thoughtful!" he said, taking the bags from her hand. "Aren't you tired from all the work?"

"I am!" Gayoon complained. "Chief Kim made me take on night shifts but I managed to exchange it with someone else for tonight."

"Why don't you stay for dinner?"

"No," Gayoon said, shaking her head. "I had a late lunch. Besides, Grandma must be waiting for me. I should head back downstairs but we will all have breakfast together tomorrow morning. Bye ahjusshi!"

She waved him goodbye before leaving. The old man waved back at her and closed the door. He took out the packages from the bags and heated the ramen in the microwave. While it was heating, the old man proceeded to open a closet.

But behind it were not clothes. Instead, there were stacks of papers stuck all over it. There were scribblings and notes written all over it. In the middle of it were three pictures. One was of a beautiful woman in her thirties. Her silky brown hair was draped over her side as she smiled widely. Beside her were two pictures of a baby girl with striking resemblance to the woman. Another one was of Minho.

The old man took a marker and circled Minho's face. Beside it, he wrote a date.

"15th July," he muttered. "Looks like we'll be meeting soon, my son."