4. Three Ways to Kill Your Boss (1)
"Do you know the three most efficient ways to kill your boss?"
At the detective's question, Officer Park Jeong-pal rolled his eyes and replied.
"Putting a bullet in their head, slashing their throat with a knife, or burning them with a special ability would be the most certain, right?"
There were a few other ideas like death by falling, poisoning, or electrocution that flashed through his mind, but he decided not to voice them. The detective's purpose in asking such a question was obviously to mock him.
And his suspicion was right. The detective immediately denied it and said.
"No. First, you mess up the task and make your boss's blood pressure spike until they die. Second, you don't do the task and mess around doing something else, causing an accident, getting your boss fired, and leading them to starve on the streets."
Jeong-pal quickly caught on to where this conversation was heading. The detective didn't stop and continued.
"Third, you bypass your direct boss, go straight to their superior, and spill everything, causing the bypassed boss to tremble with betrayal and die from stress-related cancer. That's it. What do you think?"
Rather than efficient methods, these seemed like excessively roundabout ways, but Jeong-pal decided to keep that thought to himself.
"Why is it efficient, you ask? Because you can kill someone and still avoid the law's punishment! Recently, I've been thinking that our Officer Park Jeong-pal… I mean, our Team Leader from Team 4 seems to be trying those three methods one by one. Do you want me to make your clothes smell like perfume?"
"Are you really angry?"
"Park Jeong-pal."
"Yes?"
"Despite the proper command structure, why did you go running to the captain instead of me to request a department restructuring?"
Jeong-pal stammered but didn't avoid the detective's gaze.
"I've said it several times, but you didn't seem to listen."
"If you want me to listen, then speak properly!"
"Why does it not make sense to request reducing the vigilante squad and actually increasing the number of real police officers? The area our Team 4 covers is filled with bloody crime scenes. It's dangerous to mobilize the vigilantes for many of the missions."
"That's just your opinion!"
"If I'm speaking my thoughts, whose thoughts should I speak?"
"Hey, Park Jeong-pal!"
The detective yelled loudly, then seemed to suppress his emotions and whispered softly, "Hold it in. Hold it in... I'll stop another murder today."
Jeong-pal muttered inwardly, What a load of crap.
The detective seemed to change tactics and spoke in a pleading tone.
"To be honest, most of those vigilantes are young men acting as breadwinners. They're like the kids who would have donated a hundred won by phone back in the day. If we cut them from your team, how will they survive?"
"I'm not saying to cut them. I'm asking for a transfer, exchanging the vigilantes from our team with detectives from a safer area..."
The detective twisted his lips and said.
"Really? Well, if the mutual needs match, isn't that the way to go?"
"..."
"If you find a team leader willing to do that, bring them here! I'll make the personnel change immediately!"
Such a team leader didn't exist.
Even if a crazy team leader might consider trading a detective for vigilantes, the detective involved would use any means necessary to refuse the transfer.
Jeong-pal quietly thought, If I were human and not an orc, things would be different, right?
Team 4, led by the only orc team leader in the police station, Jeong-pal, was openly avoided by other detectives. With only five years until his retirement, there was no way the headquarters would promote him, and anyone working under him would essentially be grasping a rotten rope.
The detective's resentment toward Jeong-pal was, of course, due to him being an orc. Many people had overheard the detective making derogatory comments about orcs during drinking sessions.
"Stop talking nonsense and take this."
He threw a case file at Jeong-pal. Jeong-pal sensed that this attempt would also be unsuccessful and accepted the file.
"What is this?"
"It's a case we handed over to Team 2, but you'll take it over."
Jeong-pal furrowed his brows.
"It's a missing person case, isn't it? We're short on personnel, so if you give us this..."
Vigilantes are only used during violent incidents, but such formal investigations should be handled by proper police officers.
"Then why not have the missing person case handled by the violent crimes unit? Do you want to go out and manage traffic?"
Jeong-pal held back his rising emotions and asked.
"If you pass this to us, what about Team 2?"
"They'll be assigned to the elf disappearance case special task force."
Recently, with several elves disappearing, public opinion had quickly turned sour, and it seemed a special investigation unit had been organized.
Jeong-pal wondered, How many orcs disappear every day in slum-like orc communities? Probably no one is counting, and no one could.
The public's response to elves and orcs was vastly different.
"Stop talking back and get to it. If we're short on people, you better get moving yourself!"
Jeong-pal, as the team leader, had no choice but to take on the task personally. His team was fully occupied.
Imagining the detective being shot, decapitated, or burned with a special ability, Jeong-pal returned to his desk.
Minjun's steps led him to a small shop on the first floor of the same commercial building.
"Evergreen Bookstore."
In front of the narrow store, about 10 pyeong in size, with a worn-out sign hanging, the employee was combing through something.
"Hello, Dongcheol?"
"Hello... sir..."
The goblin's speech had a characteristic, awkward intonation. Minjun was more exasperated by the content of his words than the way he spoke.
"I told you, stop calling me 'sir.' People will misunderstand! Just call me 'hyung' or even 'agent.' 'Boss' is fine too!"
"The pronunciation... it's too hard... hehe. Boss is... on the first floor... I get confused. First floor is... boss. Second floor is... sir."
When his employer introduced Minjun to Dongcheol, he had explained that Minjun was the owner of the building, and it seemed that the word "owner" had stuck firmly in the goblin's mind, while the rest of the explanation faded.
"Anyway."
Tsk. Clicking his tongue, Minjun entered the bookstore.
Inside, it was half plants, half books.
He looked at the neatly arranged large and small flower pots, and then something caught his eye.
"Wow! You brought this back to life? Amazing, amazing. Elves really are elves!"
What he was looking at was a cactus pot that Minjun had handed over to the bookstore owner a few weeks ago. It had been in a near-death state, stuffed into a drawer like it was in the ICU. When Minjun had found it, he had sent it here, telling them to try whatever they could.
And now, surprisingly, the cactus had come back to life and was looking quite healthy.
"Did it come?"
The old elf, who had been focused on a thick book, looked up and spoke in a scolding tone as soon as he saw Minjun.
"You, don't ever buy plants like that again! How much must you have neglected it for it to end up like this? What did you do to make a cactus dry up and die?"
"I didn't buy it."
It was a gift from Cashi, who had said she found it "on the way" and handed it to him, complaining about how barren the office environment was.
"Anyway, how many times has this happened?"
In fact, Minjun had handed over more than one plant to Lakefield, the bookstore owner.
As he approached, Minjun changed the subject.
"Is Dongcheol doing well?"
Their gazes simultaneously shifted to the store entrance.
Dongcheol's "combing" looked more like dust redistribution and re-spreading than actual cleaning.
The old man cleared his throat and then said.
"He's working hard."
He couldn't lie, and he certainly couldn't badmouth others.
It was a stroke of luck for Dongcheol, the goblin, to have found an employer like Lakefield. Goblins, with an average intelligence lower than that of other races, had a hard time finding proper jobs in modern society. Most of them wandered from one labor market to another, eventually ending up in fraudulent contracts, forced to work on distant fishing ships or sold into slavery in salt mines.
"What are you reading?"
"This is a new book from a dwarf author I like. Would you like to borrow it when I finish?"
"Ugh. No, that's fine."
For Minjun, dwarf literature was in the same category as orc metal.
"All those novels they write are the same. They're all terrible with their over-complicated settings, the plots drag on endlessly, and then they end with some nonsensical babbling."
"How can I help you?"
Lakefield noticed that Minjun was avoiding the real question.
He chuckled awkwardly and handed over a file.
"There's someone you need to find. This is your area of expertise."
As Lakefield looked at the pictures and addresses in the file, he nodded.
"Alright, I can definitely help with this."
"As a reward, I'll lower the rent for this month."
"No need, I have some dignity. I know well enough that if I lower it any more, it's like giving it away for free."
Lakefield, having finished speaking, whispered into the air.
"Will you help me?"
It wasn't directed at Minjun, nor at Dongcheol.
Though nothing was visible, Minjun could sense that something was approaching.
A soft force gathered, gently vibrating the air.
Whirr!
Finally, it took shape into something Minjun could see. A misty light formed into the shape of an elf woman, dressed in unfamiliar clothing, reduced to a 10:1 ratio.
Lakefield was one of the most skilled summoners Minjun knew. He couldn't help but admire how quickly he had called her forth.
"Your skills haven't faded, they've only gotten sharper. What's your secret?"
"Focus and practice."
The elf, who had been practicing for 900 years without missing a day, bore a distinct vaccination scar on her neck. It marked her as one of the first-generation immigrants, an elf with no blood mixture, and one of the first elves to set foot on Earth.
Looking at the summoned spirit with such affection, Lakefield muttered a few words and pointed at the photo with his finger. The spirit giggled and floated up to the sky before flying off.
The summoner closed his mouth, watching the spirit's back as it sliced through the wind. Minjun also waited quietly, respecting the silence.
'Elemental spirits, when summoned, take the form of the one the summoner misses the most,' Minjun thought.
He didn't know whose image the spirit had mimicked. Was it the youthful form of his mother left in the old world? Or was it his estranged wife? Or perhaps, his long-lost daughter?
Even if they were close, there are lines one cannot cross. Sometimes, it's precisely because of closeness that certain things can't be asked. Lakefield's family was one of those things. Minjun had no intention of asking unless the old elf brought it up first.
After staring outside for a while, Lakefield turned his head with a slightly moist gaze.
"Let me know when you have an answer."
"Thank you."
The next day, Dongcheol came to Minjun's office on an errand.
"Boss... uh... he... told me to... come down... come down."
"Got it, I'll be right there."
Minjun went downstairs to the bookstore and asked Lakefield.
"Did you find it?"
"I found it."
"See, you really are the best in this business!"
Minjun was about to clap, but Lakefield gestured for him to hold on, as if his sentence wasn't finished.
"What are you going to do with this person now that you've found them?"
"I was going to interrogate them."
"Really? In that case, it might be better to get an expert from another field."
"Huh? Why? Could it be...?"
Minjun trailed off.
Lakefield nodded, confirming Minjun's suspicions.
"I found them, but they aren't breathing. They're dead."
Minjun asked the most important question.
"Are they human?"
Lakefield frowned.
"One can't really call 'that' a human."
Minjun thought things might actually work out this time. Though he had a good feeling, he wasn't completely at ease. His instincts were known to be notoriously inaccurate.
And soon, he would realize that this particular feeling of foreboding was not wrong.