April 19, 2018
Baek Junseo
Japan, 7:30 PM
To many, ignorance of life and death is a privilege they cannot afford. Knowledge becomes the root of their bitterness and sorrow, their rage and anguish. Yet for the nonexistent and disposable, it's a false hope to cling to. Living or dying—it didn't matter which, nor how—it was simply a path to an odd way of enlightmen. In the end, all that remained was a longing to escape a hollow existence, to seize any opportunity and take a life, only to experience the faint luxury of debating whether to live or die.
My story is not far from being a colorless film tape left to gather dust in the attic of an abandoned house.
I was always disposable. Left to the hands of the government and its social services. I had no name, no parents to turn to, no friends to share my suffering. I had nothing, because I wasn't yet meant to exist. And yet, at some point, I thought I'd found my path, my light amid the darkness. When you reach a certain age and social services can no longer support you, they send you out into the world with an apology letter and a few cents to avoid dying right away. Perhaps I prayed too fervently to avoid the world, and ended up under the care of a non-governmental espionage organization.
They gave me a name, an alias, fed and trained me for a long time, until I became just another one of their pawns, ready to sacrifice myself for the banal and foolish excuse of "patriotism."
Even after giving up on life, I was dragged along by my duties. On every single mission I wished, perhaps, to finally meet my death. I was no one. I had no desires. I yearned for nothing but an end. To society, I was just another pawn in a chess game. To the government, merely another worker. I labored tirelessly, without breaks, complaints, or questions. By that point, I couldn't even recall how many times I'd been on the brink of death or how often I might have been captured by enemies. Perhaps I'd stopped caring. It was the adrenaline at the edge of death that gave me a reason to exist—or maybe I was simply too exhausted to think anymore.
That April night could have been like any other. It was cold; I could feel the chill in my fingers, nose, and lips. Darkness had long since fallen, and the silence inside the train was unnerving. I had a single objective: to intercept communication between two parties of interest to my country.
Suh Cheol, the favored heir of a multimillion-dollar cosmetics company that secretly dealt with the organization and design of highly dangerous materials: chemical weapons, to be exact. Publicly, his father still managed the company, making it inconvenient for him to handle this type of deals directly, leaving his eldest son in charge of such matters and his illegitimate son, Suh JaeMin, in charge of the security of his favourite son. Lovely siblings, indeed.
The other party, while not part of Korea, had raised some concerns. A Japanese commissioner with no records or titles—a nobody who seemed to be of great importance to all those dealing in weapons, designs, and information. Stranger still, as he was like a ghost. No one knew his face, name, or employer. He was a complete mystery.
I'd been sitting for a couple of hours in a shared compartment adjacent to the allegedly meeting room, according to the confession of a captured security member interrogated by another agent. I was alone, though I had a communication system that connected to my partner, someone I didn't know. I had always a different partner for each mission; sometimes, I worked solo. It was always uncomfortable. I never cared to build good relationships—I didn't have the time, nor did I know how—so I was always alone. I was born alone, and I would die alone. It was only fair for someone as nonexistent as me.
Through my espionage-designed glasses, I could monitor the camera feed from the next room. It had been empty since the beginning, though there were a couple of suitcases on the overhead shelves. The train wasn't crowded, fortunately. With a capacity of 1,634 passengers but very few aboard, the E4 Series bullet train was bound for Tokyo. Once there, losing the targets in the city would be easy, requiring immediate intervention.
I was sleepy. My eyes felt heavier than usual, and though the seat was a bit uncomfortable, at that moment, it gave me the warmth I so desperately needed. I hadn't slept well in days due to constant overseas assignments and abrupt time changes. I longed for a barbecue, or at least some kimchi stew, a good bath, and a bed. I missed my home, even if it was lonely and dull.
Just as I was about to drift off, footsteps echoed down the corridor. Though muffled by the carpet covering the train's floor, they were heavy and deliberate, approaching the meeting room with a calm pace. I watched the figure enter and sit with his back to the camera. His face was impossible to see, obscured by a peculiar mask.
"Sunbaenim, do you see him?" My partner's voice sounded tired through the earpiece.
A small affirmative sound escaped my lips as I tried to disguise my words to avoid drawing attention.
"I couldn't see much from the hallway, and his face is covered. Do you think he's a messenger for Suh Cheol's son?"
"No, the man never hides his face. It must be our commissioner."
Though I knew he was likely right, one fact unsettled me. The man was too tall to be fully Japanese. I estimated him to be about seven feet tall. No matter how I looked at it, he seemed foreign. I said nothing, as I knew better than to rely on vague stereotypes. The man sat for a while, moving only to retrieve a metal lighter from his suit and fidget with it in his hands.
Soon after Suh Cheol's illegitimate son, Suh JaeMin, arrived elegantly dressed. The favored son, Suh Tae Kwon, was never seen, which was extremely strange. Even though it raised some alarms, it wasn't our primary concern. The masked man handed Suh JaeMin what appeared to be a USB drive before leaving without uttering a single word.
"We need to get that USB, Sunbaenim."
"I know. Keep watch in the hallway. Once the commissioner leaves, I'll try to get close to Suh JaeMin."
I slid my frozen hands into my jacket pockets and hung my glasses around the neck of my shirt. Even though I knew the masked man could still be there, I had to see him from a closer angle. Calmly, I left the small cabin, as I thought the commissioner was still in the hallway, leaning against the train wall with no indication of moving. I couldn't tell where he was looking, as his mask concealed much of his face. He was far too tall, his broad frame shrinking the space around him. He gave off a strong scent of wine-soaked cork, standing there with his arms crossed as though waiting for something.
Terrifying, indeed.
With him there, I couldn't approach JaeMin. I walked straight ahead, hoping to avoid his attention, but he stopped me with his arm. He wore a slightly oversized black suit, a white shirt, and a red tie, with black latex gloves and an expensive watch on his wrist. He said nothing but pointed with his free hand toward the other end of the hallway, where the bathrooms were located. I was going straight to the driver's cabin and I didin't even notice.
I forced a smile, thanked him in a soft and weak Japanese, and turned toward the bathrooms to hide.
"K, let me know when he moves. I can't get close like this. He is a monster."
Silence.
"K?"
Hearing nothing, I grew uneasy, muttering a curse under my breath. It could have been a communication failure caused by the train's dead zones, or my partner might have been discovered. Whatever the case, I had to resolve it on my own.
Attacking from the start would be madness, especially with that giant—it would be impossible to take him down. If I waited, they could move, but that could also backfire. I couldn't afford to dwell on my partner's fate; I had to finish this mission alone.
Fortunately, I still had one risky option in mind. A few days ago, the agency had gained access to the favored son of Suh Cosmetics' phone. It had been previously hacked, allowing us to control it remotely. The only problem was that we were limited to a few seconds of access to send a message that would delete itself immediately, leaving no trace. I just had to hope JaeMin hadn't turned his phone off.
I typed quickly, instructing him to go to the cargo wagon where my escape route was located.
When I stepped out, the masked man was still there, standing as though waiting for something. I walked slowly, avoiding eye contact to keep his attention off me, and moved through the train cars until I reached the cargo car. If the message worked, JaeMin would come. If not, I'd have to find another way to intercept the USB later.
To reach the cargo wagon, I had to pass through several compartments filled with passengers and others reserved for staff, who fortunately didn't seem to notice my presence.
Odd, but not alarming.
I reached the cargo wagon but found myself locked out. Leaning against the frame of the connecting door, I waited. The longer I thought about it, the stranger it seemed that there was no noise or indication that the staff were aware of me. What did it mean? Why did I feel so uneasy?
Before I could dwell further, the sound of footsteps reached my ears. Through the small windows on the other side, I spotted several armed men moving down the hallway.
" Shit."
I searched for the best escape route—the roof of the train. Adrenaline surged through me, replacing the cold that had earlier chilled me with a sudden, inexplicable heat. I crossed to the end of the car and climbed the stairs at the side. Balancing on the roof was challenging at first, but once I adjusted, I retraced my steps toward the wagon I had been in earlier.
That wagon, connecting to the driver's cabin, had a very short space between connections, where I eventually stopped, peeking through the small window of the door. The hallway was empty. I entered cautiously, careful not to make any noise.
Suh JaeMin was still sitting where he had been earlier, now asleep.
At least it wasn't a total failure.
I slipped into the cabin silently, searching his pockets without waking him. Inside his vest, I found the USB. Knowing he'd panic upon discovering it missing when awake, I replaced it with a fake—a tracker disguised as a USB.
Now I just had to find a way out.
I returned to the space between the wagons. Jumping off the train, though far from ideal, seemed like the only option. Staying aboard with armed guards patrolling the corridors would be too dangerous.
Before I could think further, the roar of an engine interrupted my thoughts—a motorcycle.
"Sunbaenim!"
It was K. I'd never been so glad to see a partner.
He brought the motorcycle as close to the train as possible, avoiding the tracks. Though it was still a big distance, it wasn't impossible. I could hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, drowning out every other sound. That deafening rush gave me the courage to leap.
Even if the landing wasn't painless, I probably saved myself from weeks of recovery for scrapes and broken bones.
Another mission completed—for better or worse.