PAX 26

Once again, I wondered how Ahn Juik was building his wealth. Is he gathering money by connecting with someone on the outside? But because I knew of the Nagon District residents’ inherent characteristic of dreading outside interference, I couldn’t quite imagine Ahn Juik earning money by conspiring with outsiders. So, it felt more likely that Ahn Yutan himself was doing something to earn the money… No, well, honestly, none of this is any of my business.

While going up to the 18th floor, Ahn Yutan stood silently leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

Anyway, what was the business that required me to come all the way here? As something I had forgotten suddenly came to mind, I started to feel a bit tense. Is he going to lock someone covered in blood in the house and show them to me? Who is it this time? Kitae hyung? One of the Pachulso staff? But couldn’t he perform that kind of threat on the outskirts of the Nagon District without necessarily bringing me all the way here?

Ahn Yutan opened the door with a fingerprint scan and went inside first.

Perhaps he installed a grim torture chamber in his house and intends to show it to me as a threat. It seems like a completely useless endeavor, though.

There were no signs of anything like a grim torture chamber until I passed the entrance and hallway and stepped into the open living room. I was slightly bewildered because it was just an ordinarily modern home.

“If you want something to drink, take it from there. I’m going to wash up.”

Ahn Yutan pointed at the refrigerator and went into the bathroom. A short while later, the sound of water from the shower rang out.

Now, I was standing dumbfounded in the middle of the house, feeling not just slightly but very bewildered.

What the hell.

Why is he acting so… normally?

Right, that’s it. Normal. Ahn Yutan’s attitude was so normal it was strange. From parking, coming here, to entering the bathroom, Ahn Yutan acted like an ordinary person who had brought a friend home. It was to the extent that it was hard to believe he was the same human who would blindly lunge at me, shoot guns, and play bizarre word chain games.

What kind of scheme is he plotting?

Speculating and anticipating had been useless until now, but I habituated to thinking about it while carefully looking around the house. It seemed to have all the necessary items—a sofa, television, dining table, chairs—but it was a house that strangely felt desolate. Was it because nothing was hanging on the walls? Or was it just because I had become accustomed to the bustling atmosphere of the Pachulso?

I secretly opened the refrigerator, too. There were only a few types of beer and beverages. What does he eat to survive here? Recalling the refrigerator at the Pachulso, which is always filled with various vegetables, fruits, eggs, bottled preserves, and side dishes, I even felt a slight worry about how a person could live with a refrigerator this empty.

In the freezer, there was one tub of ice cream and some ice. It was unexpected that he would eat chocolate flavor.

I was about to close the freezer door but paused. Could there be something else inside that tub instead of ice cream? Bullets, or, well… someone’s severed finger, perhaps.

When I opened the lid, it was indeed chocolate ice cream. There was a trace of exactly one scoop having been eaten from the very center. I put the ice cream tub back and closed the door.

I went in front of the living room window, and the center of the apartment complex looked down below. It was a structure where apartment buildings surrounded a playground, a garden, a parking area, and people taking walks or exercising in layers.

Beyond the apartment opposite, I could see endless apartment buildings and tall, slender skyscrapers. It was a landscape that felt wide open due to the central space, but if you watched it for a while, it felt densely blocked off.

How far away are things like the Nagon District, the ruins village around it, and our Pachulso from this sight? The fact that it changes into this landscape after just two hours of driving from there hit me with a fresh sense of bewilderment. Since I started doing “pigeon” work, my mom and dad hadn’t even assigned me any outside tasks, so it had been quite a long time since I came out to a city with this many people. A sense of alienation suddenly hit me hard, and it felt as if this place were an elaborately constructed movie set.

I watched the children climbing up and down the playground slide. It looked like ants scurrying about.

There are also kids from Seoul at the Pachulso. Since my mom and dad have had a long connection with a welfare center in Seoul, they often send children who have nowhere left to go to the Pachulso. I don’t know how they found out about the Pachulso, but someone living in Seoul once came all the way there and left a newborn at the front door with a note asking to please take care of the child.

For kids at an age where they can communicate to some extent, I can hear the stories of how they came to the Pachulso directly from them, but for kids who can be called babies, I hear their stories through the mom and dad who brought them. So, from some point on—that is, ever since I harbored some doubts about my mom and dad—I started to wonder if those stories were actually true.

Really, did someone leave them at the front door? Is it true that the child was sent from a welfare center in Seoul?

I imagine my mom and dad standing side by side at the playground of this apartment. They look at each child one by one, scoring them like they’re grading meat. What their health condition or personality looks like, what their relationship with their guardian looks like. And estimating how cleanly they can kidnap them….

“You wash up, too.”

Gasp, I was startled enough for the sound to come out on its own.

Turning around, Ahn Yutan was coming into the living room, propped on one crutch with his prosthetic leg slung over one shoulder. The robe, tied loosely at the waist, flapped here and there, revealing more of his chest bit by bit.

I had heard what he said, but the content was a bit strange, so I asked again.

“What?”

“Wash up.”

Ahn Yutan plopped down on the sofa. The robe spread out to both sides, and his genitals were clearly exposed between his wide-open legs.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re fucking dirty right now. If you walk around here like that, won’t everything else get dirty, too?”

Ahn Yutan glared at me and here and there in the living room while setting his prosthetic leg down to the side.

I looked at my body and rubbed my face in vain. My appearance was indeed filthy since we had been hitting each other and kicking up dirt and dust.

“What is the business you brought me here for?”

“Go wash up.”

“Tell me your business. I won’t touch anything else, I’ll just stand here and listen.”

“Hey you fucking, uncivilized bastard.”

The crutch flew at me, and I quickly dodged to the side. The crutch struck the desolate wall hard and fell to the floor.

I rescind my statement about him acting normally.

“If the homeowner tells you to wash, you wash; why are you blabbering again after coming into someone else’s house? Don’t you know that pigeons are animals that originally like to wash?”

What does that have to do with me?

Ahn Yutan gestured as if telling me to bring the crutch back, so I picked it up and gave it to him.

“Wash, and take out anything you want to wear from the room next to that one. But get permission before you put it on.”

Ahn Yutan sat with both legs spread wide and started skillfully cleaning his prosthetic leg with a towel.

I went into the bathroom, locked the door, and took off all my clothes. There was one toothbrush and one razor each on the shelf under the mirror. Does he live here alone? Where do those two guards he used like limbs live?

I raised my eyes and looked at the face reflected in the mirror. It was stained with dried blood and sweat mixed with dirt and dust. On one cheek, there was a red mark from when Ahn Yutan cut it with a knife earlier.

I washed quickly, for starters. I don’t really know why I have to start with this in someone else’s house I’ve come to for the first time today, but it was refreshing at least.

As I was wiping the water off with a towel, the door burst open. I guess the locking mechanism looked flimsy for a reason.

“What’s taking so long?”

Ahn Yutan gestured for me to come out, so I went out. Barking at me to wash, barking at me to come out quickly… Yeah, whatever, I’m in a state of continued resignation.

Ahn Yutan held out what he had been hugging in one arm. It was a sleeveless T-shirt, training shorts, and underwear. Judging by the scent and feel, they all seemed brand new.

“Bring them to me after you wash them clean and even iron them perfectly.”

Of course, he would. I just nodded, put my filthy clothes on the floor, and put on Ahn Yutan’s clothes one by one. Since he’s the kind of guy who even jerked off to someone else’s underwear, I plan to wash them thoroughly in every corner to completely erase my traces before I bring them to him, even if he says not to.

While I was getting dressed in front of the bathroom, Ahn Yutan was leaning against the wall, watching me. He had put his prosthetic leg back on and was still wearing only the robe, with the front precariously fastened.

I finished putting them on and faced Ahn Yutan.

“Then now….”