Chapter 18
“What…?”
“What’s the point of going to medical school? Who told you to cut open corpses? You became a forensic pathologist because you wanted to, right? If you had just gone into dermatology or plastic surgery like others, you could be living comfortably now, making tens of millions of won a month as a pay doctor somewhere in Gangnam, couldn’t you?”
“That’s right. Jae-hee has a point. I was against you becoming a forensic pathologist too. Studying so hard only to not make money, what a waste of education. Tsk.”
Emboldened by her mother’s support, Jae-hee pressed on.
“See? The whole family was against it, but you decided on your own. We have a doctor in the family who’s of no help, what are you so proud of?!”
Their words not only reduced someone’s death to mere money but also insulted Jae-in’s entire life, which she lived with pride and a sense of mission in her work.
Although she couldn’t save sick people, she believed that by revealing the cause of death, she could save others who might have become victims.
She thought it was also necessary for the bereaved families who lived each day with heavy hearts and self-blame.
Even if others didn’t understand, at least her family shouldn’t dismiss her work like that.
“Ah! I don’t know! I can’t even get a loan. If you don’t have money, take out a loan or do something to lend me the money.”
It wasn’t even a polite request, as if she thought throwing a tantrum would somehow solve the problem, or maybe she was underestimating Jae-in.
“Let’s help your sister one more time, what can we do if she says she can’t live like this? You’re the only one we can rely on in our family.”
Ah. She almost stupidly fell for her mother’s kind request again. Right. If it were before, she might have fallen for that “only one we can rely on” line and thought, “At least mom trusts me,” and scraped together money she didn’t have to give them.
As the throbbing pain spread across her chest, she suddenly came to her senses.
“Why should I do that?”
“Aren’t you family? Aren’t you a member of this household?”
“Do you really think so? But why do I feel like I’ve never been a part of this family?”
“Jung Jae-in! How can you say such things? Are you saying this for Mom to hear?”
“Don’t look for me for a while. I won’t answer even if you call.”
“Ya! This! We praised you for being so great, and now you’ve really gone crazy? Is that how you talk to your mother?”
With those final words, she stormed out of the house. Fearing they might chase after her, she ran down 11 flights of stairs instead of taking the elevator.
Enough. If only they would stop calling. She could just block them, but she felt self-loathing for her own foolishness in not being able to do even that.
“You look hurt.”
While her actual family scratched and clawed at her without caring if she was hurt…
She didn’t know why she suddenly thought of the man who could tell she was hurt just by looking at her face, and knew how to comfort her silently.
🍓
It was the fourth day since the new year, or the fifth if you count past midnight.
Muyoung massaged the back of his stiff neck with one hand while gripping the steering wheel with the other.
After parting ways in front of the hotel that day, there had been no contact from Jae-in. She hadn’t even replied to his text asking if she got home safely.
They say a face holding back tears looks sadder than one openly crying. Although he had kept quiet as she wanted, it had been weighing on his mind.
Maybe he shouldn’t have let her go that way….
It would have been nice if he could have seen her the next day, but Muyoung had been quite busy.
Thinking he should make time to visit her soon, the rhythm of his index finger tapping on the steering wheel quickened.
“I’ve mostly sorted out the witness interview for tomorrow… There are a few indictment cases with deadlines coming up soon.”
Muyoung organized the scheduled events in his head while waiting for the traffic light to change with indifferent eyes.
“If I had left work on time, the section joining Olympic-daero would have been as crowded as a marketplace, but it’s nice that it’s quiet.”
He was muttering consolatory nonsense like, “It’s all done, I just want to get home quickly, wash my body with hot water and lie down,” when he passed the Nonhyeon intersection where the green light had come on.
At that moment, something caught the corner of his eye, and his head instinctively turned to the left.
“―!”
A dump truck suddenly emerged from the bus lane on the opposite side of the road, right in front of him. The moment he perceived the danger, the distance between the car and the truck narrowed in an instant.
It was a moment too short to show any reaction.
Bang!!!
An ear-splitting roar erupted.
Screeeeech!!
The sound of tires burning the asphalt surface sharply cut through the intersection.
The moment the truck collided, the driver’s side window shattered into pieces. Shards of glass reflecting the dawn light scattered before his eyes.
Soon after,
Bang, bang, bang!
The car that collided with the dump truck smashed into the median strip.
“If you keep that up, you’ll get hit in the back of the head one of these days. Be careful.”
How long had it been since Do-hyung told him that? Was it a month ago?
“Even rats can lose their tails without knowing it’s being hunted.”
The blurred shapes in Muyoung’s vision as he got out of the car were all hazy, nothing clearly visible. His vision spun, and he felt so dizzy he couldn’t gather his thoughts.
Something was wrong.
“Kyaaaa!!”
Before his thoughts could be sorted out, a woman’s shrill scream sharply cut through the chaotic scene.
Muyoung strained his eyes to find the woman who had screamed. The woman, whose face had turned pale blue, was pointing at something.
The place her trembling finger was pointing at was the wretchedly crumpled car trunk.
Something was visible through the half-open trunk.
An arm? A leg? Something shaped like a human mannequin was sticking out awkwardly. Something that shouldn’t be there, that couldn’t possibly be in his car.
“Ah… Fuck. I’m screwed.”
With those softly muttered curses as his last words, Muyoung’s consciousness also snapped off like a broken film.
🍓
The ground was all muddy. It was so swampy that it was difficult to even take a step.
Old sneakers were buried in the sticky mud, dirty. Trying to move by putting strength in the knees, the path I wanted to go seemed to be getting farther away for some reason.
Raising my gaze at the acrid smell, black smoke was rising in the distance. It’s a somehow familiar scene and a familiar building. After a moment, flames shoot up from the window that was emitting smoke.
I watched in a daze as the bright red fire demon devoured everything the flames touched.
Was it spring? Was it fall? Judging by the chill in my heart, it must have been winter.
My father was a methamphetamine addict.
“Hey, you bitch! You brought that bastard into the house, didn’t you?! Trying to sell me out to that bastard. Trying to make a fortune by selling all my organs.”
I don’t know when or how it started. I only remember that by the time I came to my senses, he was already addicted beyond help.
“What’s that again? Shit! It’s not just one guy? Tell me the truth. You’ve been sleeping with all those bastards, haven’t you? Huh? While your husband is busy, you bring them home and spread your legs. That’s all you’re good at, you bitch. Alright, today let’s see who dies first, you or me.”
On days when my father was drunk, he would grab my mother like catching a mouse, making unreasonable accusations as if he was seeing things.
Unable to bear it anymore, I reported my father to the police. And then I realized. It wasn’t alcohol that made my father violent, it was drugs.
The once-normal household started to decline bit by bit, all because of drugs.
My mother, who had only been a housewife, started working at a supermarket, and it took less than two years to move from a high-end 40-pyeong apartment to a 12-pyeong public apartment.
We weren’t living lavishly, but we were a family that wanted for nothing. We were harmonious and happy. Until my father started doing drugs.
“Hick…”
My mother cried silently every night, covering her mouth with both hands lest her son—me—catch her crying.
That’s when I learned how drugs can throw a person into the gutter. All addictions were bad, but drugs were the worst of the worst.
Incomprehensible muttering. Exaggerated behavior due to auditory and visual hallucinations. Eventually, losing self-control and abandon humanity, craving only pleasure.
The problem was the withdrawal symptoms. The moment you quit, you writhe in phantom pain like a CRPS patient. And that ultimately leads to violence.
My father went through all those stages.
My father was sentenced to two years in prison. I had reported him to save my mother from being mercilessly trampled under my father’s near-manic kicks, but it left me branded as the son of a drug addict.
In a small town, rumors spread quickly. But it didn’t matter. Even though it was a run-down home, a brief peace came with my father’s absence.
The following year, I entered law school. And at the end of my freshman year of college, my father was released. I joined the military, and then our house caught fire.
🍓
Thank you for reading! ♡
