Suspicious Vampire
I sat in front of my desk, staring at the monitor while filling out documents, unable to resist the drowsiness that washed over me as I yawned.
It was spring, and white fluffy clouds were floating leisurely across the blue sky. It was such a beautiful day that it felt like a waste to be stuck in the office. Additionally, it was that time right after lunch when drowsiness naturally set in.
I stretched silently to chase away the sleepiness and looked around. It seemed I wasn’t the only one suffering from spring fatigue—the entire office was extremely lax. Especially since the department head who oversaw the office was away, the senior employees with more years of service had completely collapsed at their desks.
Where’s the secret organization in all this?
Looking around at the office drowning in sleepiness, a bitter smile naturally appeared on my face.
Special Management Bureau for Heteromorphic Organisms, secret organization, vampires, secret agents. Combining these four words, you could make any number of suspense action thriller movies reeking of conspiracy.
Including myself, the real occupation of the 24 office workers on the verge of being knocked down by the spring air was special agents of the Special Management Bureau for Heteromorphic Organisms. Vampire specialist agents, at that. But it had nothing to do with suspense, action, or thrillers. Though it was a secret organization unknown to the public, we suffered from all kinds of miscellaneous tasks and had to listen to various nagging in front of our superior’s desk, just like low-level civil servants.
Even our work was ordinary. The basic job was managing the personal information of Vampires residing in Korea. There were 503 vampires registered with the government living in Korea. The basic work was to confirm their residence and contact information every month and supply them with blood.
The biggest reason vampires attack humans is, one hundred percent of the time, to obtain blood. With this in mind, the Special Management Bureau for Heteromorphic Organisms created a law with the main point being that if vampires register with the government, they would receive a certain amount of blood for free every month. As a result, Korea achieved the amazing feat of being the only country in the world where 99.9% of vampires are registered with the government. Of course, this was only possible because only vampires with small numbers and weak power existed here.
For that reason, compared to countries like the United States, Europe, and Africa that couldn’t even grasp the number of vampires and were suffering from vampire-related crimes, Korea was peaceful to the point of boredom.
I had no complaints about the peace. There was the pressure of having to keep it secret that beings who only appear in novels or movies were breathing beside us, but it wasn’t serious. Rather, I liked that the annual salary was higher than regular civil servants. Thanks to that, I could avoid being discouraged by my debt of over a hundred million won. Though I had to live a tight life for over two years, living in a goshiwon, staying up all night doing translation part-time jobs to pay off the debt as quickly as possible.
To shake off depressing thoughts, I shook my head from side to side and cast my gaze beyond the window where the soft spring sunlight was shining. My strong point was clearly distinguishing between what I could and couldn’t do, and giving up quickly. Still, on spring days with nice weather like today, my mind becomes lax.
Doesn’t the saying go, “Life is but a spring dream”? A short life of less than a hundred years—the desire to live according to my own will without being hung up on money and fame slowly rose in my chest.
I chuckled as I watched a bright red car roar past beyond the window. Thinking that my escapism came in all forms since I didn’t want to work, I pulled myself together and focused on the monitor again.
Though it was simple work, the amount wasn’t small. Including the night shift and overtime workers who hadn’t come to work yet, and agents dispatched to regional areas, there were 55 agents in the Vampire Department. Considering there were 503 registered vampires, a simple calculation showed that each person had to manage about 10 vampires. Confirming their addresses and contact information every month, sending blood, handling various civil complaints, and writing reports was never easy.
“Ah, I don’t want to work.”
Deputy Manager Choi Ji-sook, sitting next to me, stretched her body and said what I wanted to say.
“Deputy Manager-nim, your mind has gone to the bean field.”
“Yeah. With weather like this, I want to go somewhere. I heard they’re having the Gunhang Festival in Jinhae. They say the cherry blossoms will bloom in Gyeongju around next week too. But I hate traffic jams and crowds.”
“Then how about Yeouido Park?”
“I go there every year.”
“Ooh. Going cherry blossom viewing?”
Team Leader Lee Tae-woo, who had been dozing off in the seat right in front, opened his eyes, reacting to cherry blossom viewing.
The Special Management Bureau for Heteromorphic Organisms was a secret organization. Like the NIS, even though we were civil servants, we couldn’t reveal our identities, so we operated through shell companies. The Vampire Department, which managed blood, was set up as employees of a company linked to the Korean Red Cross Blood Management Headquarters. So our positions went by general company titles like deputy manager, section chief, and department head.
Team Leader Lee Tae-woo was twenty years older than me, an agent who had experienced everything in this field. The reason he remained at the team leader position was because personnel transfers themselves were rare since the work required so much secrecy. Unless you had considerable promotion points, it was common to remain at the section chief level for life. For that reason, the average age of Vampire Department agents was 45.2 years.
I was the youngest, having transferred from the Intelligence Department two years ago. Deputy Manager Choi Ji-sook sitting next to me was also a forty-one-year-old veteran. Even so, she had such a baby face that she looked much younger than her age.
“Cherry blossom viewing sounds good.”
“Isn’t it still too early for Yeouido?”
Team members each chimed in with a comment. It’s spring, so cherry blossom viewing, traffic is too bad these days, Gyeongju is nice too, there’s a train, and so on. Words hoping to escape the office poured out. I laughed at the fact that it wasn’t just me whose mind had gone to the bean field.
Just as the entire office was being infected with fluffy happiness amid the languid spring atmosphere, suddenly there was a sound of the door swinging open. At the same time, Department Head Kim Cheol-jin, who had gone out, appeared. The happy atmosphere disappeared without a trace, and everyone was busy pulling themselves together.
Amid the sudden bustle in the office, the department head immediately spoke.
“Everyone, attention please. I have an announcement.”
If there was an announcement right after coming back from going out, it was either bad news or good news. Looking at the expression of the department head, who was called Bodhisattva because of his gentle face, it was the former.
“From now on, we’re issuing a yellow alert.”
A yellow alert was usually issued when a heteromorph registered with the bureau caused some kind of incident. The office atmosphere changed completely.
“There hasn’t been an accident, but one of the Grand Duke of Moscow’s heirs will be visiting Korea on Friday.”
A bigger bomb than the yellow alert dropped. The office stirred at the mention of the Grand Duke of Moscow’s heir, including me.
“Quiet, quiet. The Russian Embassy contacted us, and the Intelligence Department has already passed the immigration screening. Most matters related to him have nothing to do with us. I hope you’ll pay special attention to managing the customers you’re in charge of. Please keep a close eye on whether there are any customers you can’t contact or who show unusual words or actions.”
The customers the department head was talking about were our euphemism for vampires. His caution was valid.
Vampires, commonly called the night race, were a thoroughly hierarchical society. Korea, which followed the American classification system, divided vampires into six major classes. It was a pyramid structure of Vampire Lord (VL), Vampire King (VK), Vampire Noblesse (VN), Vampire Knight (VKN), Vampire Servant (VS), and Vampire Slave (VSL).
VKs were those who received the baptism of blood directly from a Vampire Lord, called kings in English-speaking countries, and could command a clan started from their own blood. VNs were nobles recognized by the king to rule a certain region. And these were the king’s heirs.
Given Korea’s circumstances where not even knights existed, let alone nobles, it made sense that a yellow alert would be issued when the Grand Duke of Moscow’s heir—more precisely, one of the heirs—was entering the country.
“Team leaders, come see me for a moment.”
At the department head’s command, four team leaders got up from their seats and flocked to the department head’s office. And the remaining agents exchanged glances looking at each other’s faces, then began whispering quietly.
“An heir of the Grand Duke of Moscow. Really?”
“It must be real. Otherwise why would a yellow alert be issued?”
“But why is he coming to Korea? A vampire who’s an heir to a Grand Duke.”
Someone hit the key point. Under international law, when vampires visit other countries for travel, business, or other purposes, the principle was to notify in advance and obtain permission. But unlike Korea, in foreign countries that couldn’t even accurately grasp the number of vampires, and in situations where vampires and ordinary people couldn’t be distinguished by appearance, there were almost no vampires who followed the law. Korea also strictly monitored the departure of government-registered vampires, but the reality was that we had our hands off when it came to entry.
Even if they entered unofficially, as long as they didn’t cause incidents, we usually turned a blind eye. But if someone who was an heir to the Grand Duke of Moscow came to Korea through official routes, it meant something was up. At his position, he would be running a large corporation, so it could be for business purposes. But we were special agents and were trained to always prepare for the worst-case scenario.
“Does anyone know what kind of influence a VN has on VSs? Most of the VSs in our country don’t have masters. I heard that nobles can control them at will.”
“They’re not coming to absorb our country’s vampires, are they?”
“Rather than that, if he’s an heir to the Grand Duke of Moscow, he’s probably connected to the Russian mafia.”
Only ominous speculations poured out from here and there. The agents’ suspicions and worries were at a reasonable level. Everyone was wondering what the real intention was when the department head’s office door opened and Team Leader Lee Tae-woo came out.
Before I could even ask what was going on, the team leader pointed at me.
“Lee Unhyuk-ssi. Go into the department head’s office.”
“What? Me?”
“Yeah. He says he has something to tell you.”
“What is it?”
“Go and listen.”
