When I take the business card out of my pocket, the man snatches it from my hand. The tips of my fingers flinch. He puts the business card inside his pocket, then says,
“I take this back since you’ve come to the right place.”
“…”
“Then, shall we take a look if it’s real?”
The man smiles as if he is excited and leads the way. At this point, I think he must be telling the truth, but I’m not stopping him. He walks to the entrance and puts down the bag he holds in the scanning device, and after walking past the metal detector, he looks back.
The eyes looking at me curve with a smile. He waits for me without saying anything. I wonder if there’s another entrance used by the prosecutors, but I feel like I will look weird if I look for another entrance, so I walk inside.
The only item I bring along is only the man’s card. Taking off the padding jacket where I put the card is and putting it on the scanning device, I walk past the metal detector. Nothing happens.
“Good work.”
He speaks as if talking to a dog that brings back a frisbee, and before he sees I pull a wry face, he walks away. I wear my padding back and follow him.
“Next time, call me before you come. You have to register in advance so that you can get a visitor identification from the first floor and go up. Ah, but you have to own an identification card.”
I do have an identification card, but I don’t really willing to give that just to come here. Since I give no response, he flashes his eyebrows and touches a card into a machine next to the entrance. Once the door opens, we take an elevator.
As we get off the elevator on the 4th floor, there is a quiet corridor. I chase after the sound of the man’s soles tapping against the floor. In front of the room where the man stops, there’s a door plate attached to the door.
[Prosecutor Yeon Woojeong]
When I turn my eyes away from the nameplate, the man looks at me as if he is waiting, then he opens the door. The old man, who has been sitting inside the medium size office, stands up.
“Welcome back, sir.”
“Yeah, I will go out again. I have a guest so I’ll have lunch first. Have a good lunch, too, sir.”
“Yes.”
On the man, Yeon Woojeong’s table, there are a lot of documents piling up. There’s also a desk nameplate, but I can’t read it because it is written in hanja. Anyway, he is a prosecutor who uses this prosecutor’s office. I don’t know what kind of scheme he has to bring me in, but at least he’s not lying.
Despite the fact that he is a real prosecutor, I don’t need to be intimidated. I already know how many incompetent and shitty prosecutors are out there, without the need to look at the news. I only need a place to sleep, and I just need to moderately exploit this man, then leave. Although it is impossible for me to stab him in the back.
“Let’s go.”
Yeon Woojeong leaves his bag and goes out. We take the elevator again, and this time we go to the underground.
“What do you want to eat?”
“Rice.”
“Rice?”
Rice. As I get off the elevator while hearing Yeon Woojeong’s mumbling, the Benz I saw at that time is waiting for us. I never imagined I would ride in this car again.
“Do you like this car?”
I sit in the passenger seat and fasten the seatbelt. The question makes me glance at him. It’s not even mine, but regardless of whether I like it or not, I don’t like how he guessed my thoughts at will, so I hardened my face.
As we leave the dark parking lot, the bright sky enters my eyes. All the people around this area are wearing neat attire. I put my feet on the place I never thought of before. I think I really don’t want to come to the prosecutors’ office ever again.
“Audi.”
“Audi? Isn’t that an expensive car?”
Does this man know what the price of the car he is riding now is? It doesn’t mean we have to know well before we buy something, but his indifferent attitude while riding a thing with numerous zeros behind it wrenches me inside. But, since nothing will change just because my mood is ruined, I quietly stare outside the window.
The car stops at a public parking lot. I follow Yeon Woojeong out of the car, and Yeon Woojeong leaves the parking lot to an alley. There are a lot of restaurants that look like they have been operating for a long time in the alley. Amongst those, he enters a small restaurant with a black ‘seolleongtang’ word written in the white sign. (TN: Seolleongtang=ox bone soup)
“There’s only seolleongtang here.”
There are only two menus, seolleongtang, and special seolleongtang. Yeon Woojeong orders two bowls of seolleongtang, saying that the portion is large.
As seen from the outside, the restaurant is small inside, and there are wooden tables attached in clusters where you can feel its years through the traces left there. News is airing on a small old TV set on a shelf close to the ceiling. Yeon Woojeong’s gaze is directed there.
I thought his neatly dressed appearance doesn’t suit him, but strangely, it suits him in this old restaurant.
The owner brings over a water bottle and two silver cups, then side dishes one by one. Kkakdugi, geotjeori, large peppers, onions, and ssamjang. His movement is slow and makes me frustrated.
“What about breakfast, did you have it?”
“No.”
“Well, there’s nothing to eat in the home. But, it will come today.”
“What?”
“Lunch box. It’ll come in the afternoon, so can you take it when it comes?”
He asks for a favor very naturally, as if I will be in his home in the afternoon. When I nod, the corners of his lips raise up.
Soon, seolleongtang and steamed rice, plain noodles are served. After pouring in a very small amount of salt, Yeon Woojeong pours half of the rice in his seolleongtang. I contemplate whether to put the rice in entirely or not, then I take a spoonful. How long has it been since I ate fresh rice? It’s bad to keep reminded of this.
I have to focus at the current moment. Things that I can’t have for now, and things that I can gain, myself, my circumstance.
“Woah, you’re here again, Prosecutor Yeon?”
I turn my head faster than Yeon Woojeong in response to the voice that suddenly addresses him. A man with formal attire and wearing silver-rimmed glasses sits next to Yeon Woojeong. His companion hesitates, then sits next to me.
“Hello, sir.”
“Yeah, is it good?”
“As you can see.”
The man wipes his hand with a wet towel and glances at Yeon Woojeong, who looks like he doesn’t eat for real. On the other hand, Yeon Woojeong doesn’t look at the man except when he greets him in the beginning. I think I know the reason. The man’s eyes are displaying bad interest.
An interest in making the other person shows their other side that is unknown to others, then wanting to use that to pressure them. It seems like the man is also a prosecutor like Yeon Woojeong. The prosecutor I think of is like this man.
The man looks at me as though he notices my gaze. His eyes are filled with ridiculing intentions.