April 26, 2018
Baek Junseo
Seoul, South Korea. 9:00 AM
I had walked through that park many times, beneath the towering cherry trees that painted the ground of the winding path with their soft pink spring petals. The path soon gave way to a stretch of concrete that led to the towering buildings of companies, hotels, shops, and just about anything one could imagine. The warm breeze, perhaps a little polluted, traced gentle strokes of affection as it tousled my hair in several directions. My hair felt a little long; my bangs almost completely covered my eyes, and the back of my hair, now stuck to my neck, had grown long enough to tie back. Maybe I should cut it, or maybe I'd let it grow a bit more. So many options.
The morning hustle of the big city prevented the moment from being anything special. I had passed by here so many times, secretly longing to find, in the caress of the breeze, the scent of cherry blossoms, and the falling petals, some reason to exist. But no matter how many times I passed by, or how much I wished for it, I knew there was nothing more here than a foolish hope. A sigh escaped my lips as I resumed my walk toward the office building that employed me. A few days had passed since my last mission, and while I had received a hefty reward, there was no greater satisfaction than finally lying in bed and sleeping as long as I wanted for several days in a row. If it hadn't been for a new call, I'd probably still be trapped under the covers, playing video games until I couldn't keep my eyes open.
A simple man like me found joy in such trivial things.
The entrance to the building consisted of a reception and several check-in stations where I could swipe my work ID to pass through the small acrylic doors that blocked the way. Although they were easy to jump over, there was security at the elevator entrance behind the doors, just to prevent any curious individuals with bad intentions. There were a few people in the elevator hall—three women and two men—all in formal clothes, smelling of printed paper and coffee. Office workers. I overheard a couple of murmurs from the group of women, likely friends. Both men seemed lost in their thoughts, too absorbed to speak.
When the elevator doors opened it was empty, probably because the workday had just begun. Annoying music played, the air smelled faintly of metal, and there were posters with notices; nothing unusual inside. I was tired and wanted to stretch my body, but there wasn't enough room, so I just yawned, covering my mouth with my hand and wiping away the few tears that had gathered afterward. Maybe I should've slept a little more during my days off. Oh, how I missed my bed.
I was the last to get off the elevator. My boss's office was almost at the end of the building, and it was a maze of hallways to get to the right place. As I entered, both my boss and the head of international affairs were there.
Great, another mission overseas.
Though they were my superiors, I had seen their faces so many times that I didn't care about formalities anymore. I stretched my body the way I had wanted to in the elevator and pulled a honey-lemon candy from my pocket to sweeten my mouth.
"Good morning to you too, Junseo," said my boss, Hyuk Chae Min.
Hyuk specialized in cybersecurity and military weapons smuggling. He'd been in that position, from what I'd heard, for far too long. Having known him for over a year, I'd formed an odd relationship with him. He was still my boss, but I also played the role of the rebellious teenager I was. The other person, who I really couldn't remember the name of, was in charge of organizing missions in other countries. He gave me fake passports, hotel reservations, and spending limits. Every time he showed up in the office, he gave me headache.
"Morning," I muttered, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "So, what's up?"
Hyuk smiled patiently, placing his hands on a folder of information and adjusting his glasses to read. He surely wanted to kill me, or something like that. I could see it in his eyes.
"After the mission on the train, it took us a while to decrypt the USB. It was protected by a software system we'd never seen before. The data inside was just a payment agreement between the two parties, which helped confirm the suspicious deals of Suh Cosmetics. However, we couldn't find anything about the other party, except for a name: Valentin Kuznetsov."
"Russians?" I asked.
The head of international relations cleared his throat before speaking.
"Valentin was a very important figure to powerful people in Russia. We don't know exactly what he did, but he had immense power. However, around 2011, he completely vanished and stayed off the radar for a long time. It wasn't until a few days ago, after some investigation, that we discovered he married a Japanese woman, apparently an heir to a lineage of influential women in the Yakuza: Ryokakku Rei."
"Perfect match," I muttered.
None of them appreciated my comment. Not even the smallest of smiles appeared. I sighed.
"The Yakuza has been inactive for a long time, and their small slip-ups don't really affect anything outside of Japan. However, this marriage could mean a shift in that, not to mention that the involvement of the Russians itself is already a big problem. We've received direct funding from the United States and guidance for a covert operation to confirm whether this really was the work of Valentin Kuznetsov or just some random person trying to cover their tracks."
Hyuk paused for a moment, his eyes fixed on me, glasses perched on the tip of his nose.
"The contract on the USB mentioned the name 'The Genie of the Lamp.' We believe it could be a code for a hacking software. It's not the first time we've heard of this design, and it's crucial for our allies. You'll need to investigate that as well." He shuffled the papers on the table, tapping them to align them. "More information about Valentin, his wife, and their children will be sent to you later."
"Their children? Why do I care about their children?" I asked, resting my hands in my pants pockets, my curiosity written all over my face.
The head of international relations took a deep breath before speaking, as though searching for the right words.
"For this job, you'll have to go back to school. You'll pose as an exchange student at the same school as Kuznetsov's children. Since you're still young, it'll be easy to pass for a friend. You'll need to get close enough for them to invite you to their home so you can spend entire afternoons there. Once inside, you'll look for valuable information. We don't know how involved his children might be, so you'll need to be careful, even with them. You'll go under the alias Lee Taeyang and pretend to be 17, the same age as them."
"Just what I needed: back to being 17 and a school life in a completely foreign country. I don't even speak Japanese that well."
"We'll give you some training before you go. The school year will end soon, and you'll go after the summer break."
I put my hands to my face. Although I wanted to complain, although I wanted to run away—what did it matter? Who cared if I put a gun to my temple and pulled the trigger? Who cared about my wishes? All I could do was lower my head and sigh exasperatedly, accepting it.
Maybe this time, far from home, I could finally find the end I'd been hoping for. Japan, Japan, Japan, fucking Japan.