Chapter 6: CH 1.6

The door opens and the sound of footsteps stops nearby for a while. Then, the door on the other side opens and there is a sound of water. When the consciousness that has been rising subsides again, there’s a sound of a cloth rustling. Again, the footsteps stop nearby. My consciousness repeatedly comes in and out. 

All the noises disappear with the door being closed. There’s the sound of footsteps running in a hurry and rustling sounds somewhere, but there is no sound that annoys my ears. Absurdly, a complete silence pulls me by the hair. 

As I open my eyes wide, the ceiling with sunlight permeating through the blinds enters my sight. Unlike my throbbing face, my body is refreshed. I don’t know how long it’s been since I slept this well. However, I strangely feel angry because I slept like a log.

When the view that can’t be in my life fills my eyes, I slowly think about what happened yesterday. Was the door sound earlier, a sound of the entrance door getting closed? I put my feet on the floor. The floor that is not cold convinces me of the reality. I get up and walk to the man’s bedroom. 

The door is opened, and I can see all the inside without needing to act cautiously. When I enter the room, the first thing I see is the big bed. There’s a gray blanket disheveled there. Next to it is a small drawer and such, and one wall is filled with a built-in closet.

The closet is open. The same black suit jackets, pants, and white shirts are lined up. As I take a look slightly, all of them are from the same brand. There’s also no big difference in their design. There are also casual clothes, but they are only comfortable clothes for home wear. I touch the neat neckties, then I open a drawer.

There are only three watches. All of them look expensive, but I can’t know whether they are real or fake. In the first place, I don’t even know if they are branded items or not. Once I close the drawer, I see a door inside the room. When I open the door, there’s a small hallway with a mirror and there’s another door inside. It is a bathroom, and there’s a bathtub here.

There’s nothing to see inside the man’s bedroom. It is a space that only functions as a bedroom and dressing room. Walking out of the room, I open the door in the other direction. It is a room with half of its sides filled with bookshelves. There is a big round chair that looks very comfortable under the window. If I sit there, I feel like my body will get buried.

This is the only place arranged warmly in this cold yet deserted place. I don’t want to enter it, so I quickly walk out.

Next is the second floor. I slowly walk up the stairs, but there’s really nothing there. I sit on the sofa after coming down from taking a look at an exceptionally dark place.

I have nothing to do. There’s also nothing that I must do. The man left without saying anything to me. Where did he go? Is he really a prosecutor? If the man had actually read the books filling the bookshelf in that room, he might really be a prosecutor.

Spending time without doing anything like this is comfortable, but also uncomfortable. Somehow, the sun has already risen more and its light pushes through the blinds. Last night…… I think the window was opened. I get up and open the blinds. The scenery I see from the high floor in the morning is abnormally dazzling.

Looking up from the bottom was breathless. Stairs that seem endless, slopes-like alleys that require climbing up, and houses that are no different from tightly attached shacks.

Looking down from the top makes my heart empty. It feels like everything fills it wholly and then is pushed away in an instant. I close the blind again because my head turns blank. I lay down on the sofa and put the blanket over my body. A strange feeling hit my eyelids.

When I wake up again, a familiar hunger visits me again. I fold the blanket and go to the kitchen, then I see a card with a memo on it on top of the dining table.

[Use this.]

It seems like it was written hastily, but it’s not hard to read it. It is a normal credit card, but I laugh because this is ridiculous. Why did he leave a card when he doesn’t know what I want? If the man is a real prosecutor, I can get in trouble if I use this recklessly. 

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While hitting the table with the edge of the card, my attention turns to the clothes I had taken off. I take out the business card I put in my pants pocket. Seoul Central District Prosecutor’ Office Criminal Division 3. Now that I look at it, the number part is sticking out.

If I want to know if this is true, I just need to go and see. As I have made up my decision, the next is easy. After taking a shower and wearing my clothes, I take the card.

Before I walk out, I put my hand inside the jacket’s inner pocket and take out the envelope of money I put there. I have an ominous feeling about bringing this to the prosecutor’s office. If I want to hide this outside, I have to find a good spot as I look around for a few days. Thus, for now, I have to hide this in the man’s house…

The kitchen is likely the place in this house that isn’t touched by the man. When I open the cupboard, there are bowls and cups, all of which are plastic. I think he will open this place often, so I look at the drawer below. Kitchen supplies that are not opened or look new are piled up. As I hide the envelope underneath it, it is so perfect. I close the drawer and go outside.

The subway station and bus stops are close, but the problem is, I don’t know the location of the prosecutors’ office. Because I have no mobile phone, let alone a smartphone that has a lot of features, I can’t search it up. When I put my hand in the pocket, it touches the card. I grab a taxi after thinking for a while.

“Seoul Central District Prosecutor’ Office.”

When I say the destination, the driver sends me a look through the mirror. I ignore him and look outside the window. The taxi soon departs.

I memorize the route while looking outside. The taxi stopped earlier than I thought. After I pay with the card the man left, I walk out of the taxi.

The entrance is large, and the way inside is long. I’m feeling uneasy as I am about to enter, but I have to be confident even if there is something I feel guilty about. Remembering that I don’t come here because of crime, I slowly take a step.

There are a lot of monotone buildings with the same shape inside. I don’t know where I should go, but for now, I walk to the place with many people coming to. As I get closer to the building, there is a sign. I feel like I have come to the right place, but I hesitate to come inside. It is because I see a metal detector beyond the entrance.

I’m not on the wanted list, nor do I have anything dangerous, but I don’t want to get scanned. Something that you try to hide is bound to be more obvious than something you have. It is awful thinking that I will get inspected under that machine—although there’s no way that machine can find out that I live by stealing people’s wallets.

Is there no other entrance? Even if there is, it will be the same. My hands feel enervated. My nail grazes with the business card. 

I feel like the building is glaring at me. I try to brace myself against the unknown pressure while staring at the entrance where people walk in and out. Then,

“Do you have business here?”

As I quickly turn my head at the voice that is clinging to my ears, the man stands a few steps away and looks at me. The man with finely brushed hair, and a properly worn tie. Even though he is properly dressed, somehow he is disharmonious.

The man glances at the watch on his wrist, then tilts his head and smiles.

“Did you come to see me?”

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