Hansol's car glides towards the outskirts of downtown Seoul—the place he arrived at was the neighborhood where he lived as a child 10 years ago. Hansol had gotten off the car and gone to the place where if it hadn't been for that day, it might have been 'the place' where he still might be living.
He looked around as he passed the road. Children were laughing, parents, who seemed excited at the sight of the children, and elderly people sitting in the playground and talking amongst themselves. He knew that the place hadn't changed. Hansol knew that he was the one who had changed in the familiar place.
Hansol entered an alley as the sound of the heels of his shoes hit the ground. He finally entered the place. He felt his throat turn dry – it was a place that made him feel thirsty. As he kept walking to 'that place,' memories of the past started to overflow into Hansol's head. When he got to the front of the building, where the words 'Demolition for the redevelopment of area O' were displayed, it brought back memories of that day.
"I'm home." Hansol, wearing a school uniform, entered through the front door. However, the atmosphere in the house was unusually different.
At that time, his mother, who shouldn't have been at home, was talking to someone in the living room, and the person didn't even bother to glance at Hansol when he came in.
When his mother looked at Hansol, she looked at him as if she was looking at a monster and not her child. Hansol didn't have to take another look at her eyes to know what that meant.
As he grew older, he always heard the rumors flowing around and saw the fear that their eyes held.… but why was his mother looking at him like that?
When Hansol was a child, he once tore off a butterfly's wings right in front of his mother. Right now, his mother's eyes seemed the same as they were on that day when he left the wingless butterfly to stagger on the ground.
Sitting across his mother was a man whom Hansol had seen somewhere.
As Hansol tried to get closer, the man quickly pulled a knife and pointed it at his mother's neck. When he looked closely, his mother's wrists were handcuffed. "Okay, now that the son's here, shall we start playing a game?"
There was no change in Hansol's expression. Only the urge to destroy something was burning in his heart. For example, the man in front of him. He wanted to see that man stabbed multiple times and rolling on the floor, wincing in pain.
But 'NO,' he couldn't do that as he was educated that he shouldn't harm others.
"I told you that your son has an antisocial personality disorder. Now, look at him. Your son's face hasn't even changed when the situation in front of him is terrifying. I told you, right? That he is one of us. He is my kind."
'… ah, I remember that man.'
His father, a professor of psychiatry, after several requests from the police, agreed to do profiling. There was a time when it was shown on the news. The perpetrator, who tried to use a mental illness as an excuse for his acts, could not escape due to Professor Im's profiling and was sentenced to a high sentence.
Not long ago, that man managed to break out, and from the news, it was said that the police were preparing an emergency arrangement for the situation. The place where he seemed to head for was Hansol's house.
"… why my son's expression hasn't changed?! It is because he was too shocked by you! I am telling you, RELEASE ME!"
His mother was a caring and loving one, but she was always busy working. Because of that, Hansol's education was handed over to his busy father. The mother Hansol always watched was the mother who always got dressed up, went out of the front door in haste, and returned home with overflowing shopping bags. His mother was completely unaware of what Hansol was.
"Hansol*-ah*, uh? Mom will call the cops… kuak." The knife pointed at his mother was thrust close to her neck, making blood flow down.
Hansol just stood there silently. He was trying to assess the criminal's behavior when he would use the knife to threaten him: if his mother resisted or Hansol made any provocations, the man would feel pleasure in hurting her. He did say Hansol and himself are of the same 'kind.' And he might just stab her the next time.
"See! Your son hasn't even reacted. Look at his expressionless face! It is an expression which says that it doesn't matter whatever happens to his mother, right? Now, Im Hansol. Go ahead and call your dad. Go ahead and do it, don't you think that the game is getting boring?"
Hansol took one step forward. The man immediately moved the knife closer to his mother. "The closer you come, the more danger your mother will be, understand?"
She was a mother who could never give proper attention to her son, a kind of mother who didn't even care why her son was suddenly wearing long pants. Even though he hid everything from his mother, he believed that his mother truly loved him. Did love exist in such a form? What was the right form of love? Was it his father's or mother's love?
Even at the moment when his mother's life was in jeopardy, it felt a little funny when he ended up thinking about her love. Without knowing, Hansol smiled.
"… Hansol*-ah!*"
His mother, who witnessed it, shouted in shock. If he was a normal child, he wouldn't have laughed at such a moment. She realized that her child really did have a personality disorder. Just as the man said, her child couldn't feel the right emotions.
"… to laugh at this moment. Im Hansol. Answer honestly. You feel like laughing, right? Because this situation is interesting."
Hansol took another step forward. The man squeezed on the hilt as he looked at Hansol, coming close to him with a smile on his mouth. If he kept doing that, his mother's neck would be cut.
Finally, Hansol spoke, "… this isn't fun."
"… it isn't?"
"Mister, this doesn't change anything, right? Ah, does mister find this situation fun? Is this fun?"
"… this, this bastard! Do you think that I'll let your mom go just because you say that stuff?"
"You don't have to let her go."
"… IM HANSOL!"
His mother screamed his name. Even after her desperate scream, Hansol took a slow step toward the man. The man went puzzled as he saw Hansol approaching him. With a few seconds to regain his confidence, he gently struck Hansol's mother's neck with the tip of his knife.
"Don't come!"
"Mister, are such situations fun? Why aren't you answering me?"
The man didn't respond. Seeing his mother be taken hostage made Hansol filled with rage, but he also found the situation interesting.
'… I want to take that knife.'
The distance between Hansol and the man was less than 2 meters. Hansol thought about the angle he had to approach the man to steal the knife from his grasp. Hansol decided to get closer to the man from the front and then rush towards him at the right moment.
Puahk!
When Hansol rushed, the man was shocked and ended up stabbing his mother's neck. Blood splattered everywhere. His mother fell to the floor with blood oozing out of her neck and hands still cuffed. Shocked, Hansol clenched his fist at the face of the man who was trying to run away and reached for his knife. The man swung his knife at Hansol.
At that moment… the knife grazed Hansol's left eye and flew into the air.
When the man decided to run away, the sound of the door lock opening was heard. The only person who would enter the house at that time was his father. Before his father entered, his mother gathered every ounce of strength in her body and shouted at Hansol.
"… you need to die! My son couldn't have been born with dirty blood!"
"Mom, why are you saying that now? You never paid attention to me even once."
Hansol picked up the knife that was blown away. A knife is in Hansol's right hand. Blood dripping from its tip. Hansol's mother's eyes were filled with tears. Oh, so that is how a human with fear looks. Hansol could guess it from the emotions he learned.
The man who heard their conversation laughed.
"… honey? Hansol*-ah*?"
Professor Im, who entered the front door, looked around the house and called out for them. The man quickly tried to get a hold of Professor Im but was blocked by Hansol. Hansol, holding onto the knife, hugged the man from behind and aimed the knife at the stomach.
Ba-dump, Ba-dump.
Since he was born, Hansol felt like his heart was alive for the first time. Professor Im tried to calm Hansol. "Im Hansol, what did dad teach you?"
"Kukuku… look here, doctor, you are a psychopath too." Despite the man's provocation, his father was only looking at Hansol. "Im Hansol. Put the knife down. What did I tell you?"
"Dad, my heart is beating."
"Im Hansol! Do what your dad is telling you!"
"Mom is in danger, and I know very well what dad said."
The moment Professor Im noticed his wife collapsed on the floor, he took out his cell phone and reported it to the police right away. Hansol gave him time to do that.
However, he wasn't ready to let go of the knife. The man watched Professor Im as he reported and waited for a chance to escape.
"Yo, Doctor. Your son is my kind. Were you trying to live by hiding it? Without even telling your wife? If your wife doesn't die, I mean… she will live her entire life hating her son. Ordinary people will never understand me or my kind."
Hansol gave more strength to the knife he was holding. The knife cut through the man's clothes. The man painfully screamed, but the sound only stimulated Hansol. The day he tore off the wings from the butterfly, he felt a sense of escape from his father would always shout at him.
"Kuak… Doctor. Can you prove that your son is nothing like me? Do you think you can do that?"
"… shut up! My son is different," Professor Im said in a not-confident voice. Hansol was able to realize that from the trembling voice he heard.
"Your fingerprints will get the police to misunderstand!"
"… dad. I am excited."
"Hansol*-ah*, that… isn't right! Put down the knife."
"If the tip of the knife goes into this man's body, I will be happier. Shall I do that?"
"Im Hansol!" Seeing his son turn insensitive, Professor Im rushed toward him.
At that moment, the man escaped to the side, and the knife in Hansol's hand got thrown away. The knife flew in the air before it hit the ground. The man pulled the knife and stabbed Professor Im in the back. The professor's clothes began to soak in blood.
Hansol got up from the ground.
"Did you feel that thrill?" Hansol asked the man in a soft voice, and the man who heard the words from Hansol went stiff.
"Y-you crazy bastard!"
The man had the knife in his hand, but he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do.
Hansol went one step ahead. "Did you feel it? Every time you killed someone?"
"This crazy shit! don't come close!"
"… ah. I guess this is how it feels."
The man stepped back. The more he stepped back, the more Hansol moved ahead.
Hansol looked back for a moment at that pool of blood. His mother was already unconscious, and his father was on the floor, groaning in pain while telling NO to Hansol.
"Please, don't…."
Knock, knock, knock
"It is open! Hurry!" The police finally arrived.
Hearing that sound, the man tried to jump from the veranda, but Hansol held him from behind. "… why aren't you telling me? I asked if this was how you felt."
"Ughhhhh! You, you are my kind! Yes, I know now!"
Hansol's left eye shone blue and quickly turned auburn again. Right then, Hansol understood something.
In a low voice, Hansol whispered to him, "You… you are not my kind."