Dohui looked out at the road swallowed in darkness. Cars passed by occasionally with a whoosh, but there wasn’t a taxi in sight. On top of that, he’d wasted several minutes standing on the street waiting for the uncle, and tonight felt unusually cold because of it.
His pocket buzzed — once, twice, insistently. He didn’t want to pull his phone out with fingers this numb, but the earbuds kept flooding his ears with messenger notification sounds.
In the dim stretch of the night road, lit only by the quiet glow of streetlamps, only Dohui’s phone screen flashed to life.
He checked — it was that oblivious idiot Jinho.
Jinho
yo
off work?
Dohui
Im Dohui
heyyyy
say something
He managed to press reply with his stiffly trembling thumb.
yeah
voice call lol
Sure enough, the call came through as if he’d been waiting for it. The content was predictable — asking if he’d received the bag from his uncle, his voice carrying a slight flutter of excitement, and the background on his end was quite noisy.
“But what is this, it’s so heavy.”
He readjusted the bag that kept slipping off his padded coat. It slid right back down again after barely a few steps.
―Good stuff. Expensive stuff.
“Yeah, right. I’m seriously struggling.”
―No taxis?
“Nope.”
Dohui glanced back with a look full of longing, but still — not a single empty taxi.
It seemed like barely any cars were passing now either. He let out a long sigh. A cloud of white breath dissolved into the air. Well, how many taxis would be circling the streets at four in the morning looking for fares, anyway.
Jinho, oblivious to all of this, just kept laughing to himself.
―I know, I know. That’s why I sent the payment right away.
“When did you say you’re coming again?”
―I’m in the middle of departure screening right now. I want to get going. I’ll head straight to your place as soon as I land, so wait up.
“God, it’s so cold……”
―I heard Seoul’s brutal right now. I’m wearing short sleeves here and it’s freaking me out.
After that, the conversation meandered into nothing in particular. When Jinho said he was bringing back some useless souvenir fan or something, Dohui said he didn’t need it — and Jinho just cackled to himself over who knows what. That laughter pulled a few quiet smiles out of Dohui too. In the brief span of the call, he’d made it all the way to his front door.
Jinho said he’d be passing through two layovers and would arrive the morning after next. When Dohui asked if it really took that long, Jinho shot back, “I’m sleeping over at a hotel in between. I’m not going to cramp up on a 20-hour flight.” Fair enough.
Dohui had never made a trip anywhere near that far, so he just let it go. Come to think of it, he’d never even been on a plane. Shouldn’t have tried to sound like I knew what I was talking about.
“Hang up. Don’t get lost at your layover.”
―Got it. I land at Incheon at 8 in the morning. I’ll call you. Pick up.
“Mm-hm.”
The moment Dohui got home, he set the heavy bag down first. What’s even in this thing — it had been an enormous load.
He rolled his stiff shoulders and shrugged off his padded coat. Next time I’ll rest in the employee break room for an hour or two and take the first bus home. At this rate of walking in the bitter cold — even a short distance — his insides were going to freeze solid.
Even a coat stuffed with down was useless against the icy winter wind. And he couldn’t exactly wear two coats. Clicking his tongue at the predicament, Dohui went into the bathroom.
He washed up as usual, shook the water out of his hair, and collapsed onto the sofa. His eyes drifted on their own toward the pitch-black bag he’d left near the front door.
Why would receiving it at home be a problem?
Ah, stop thinking about it. He’d already been paid for the errand — that was enough. Minding someone else’s business was its own kind of exhausting.
His weary body grew heavier and heavier. Dohui let himself sink down and welcomed the drowsiness that settled over his heavy eyes.
***
It was a rare day off. Christmas — but it was no different from any other weekday. He wasn’t seeing anyone, and the last thing he wanted was to kill time at some lightless PC bang with friends on a day like this. He’d left the day completely open, wanting to spend it at his own pace.
I’m hungry. Dohui opened the cupboard under the sink and closed it again. He was sick of ramen again. He’d relied on it often enough for the convenience, but it wasn’t something he could eat every single day.
He opened the delivery app, let out a sigh at the minimum order amount, and closed it again. I want a sandwich…… It’s just one day, wouldn’t it be fine? He’d go out and get one.
He stepped outside to head to a café, and the sunlight stabbed at his eyelids. Working nights during break had thrown off his rhythm entirely — the daylight just wouldn’t agree with him. It felt exactly like stepping out of a PC bang after an all-night gaming session. Enduring the mild discomfort, Dohui zipped his padded coat all the way up to his chin.
It was then that he went to message Jinho — to ask if he’d made it to his layover okay — and something was off when he opened their chat.
This message has been deleted.
That phrase appeared again and again, in a row. Further up, there were just a few old messages about assignments from a long time ago. The conversation they’d had yesterday — and only that conversation — had been deleted.
Puzzled, Dohui typed, [Why’d you delete everything? You’re still coming tomorrow, right? 8 o’clock?] — but the unread indicator sat there for a long time without disappearing. Still on the plane? Dohui tilted his head at the screen and stared for a moment before his fingers got too cold and he shoved his phone back in his pocket.
He’d bought a sandwich from the café and was on his way home. The plastic bag looped around his wrist swung back and forth, brushing against his coat.
The road was quiet, and even in the middle of the day there were few people out. It must have snowed again while he was asleep — a thin layer had settled. Here and there, snow that had been trampled under people’s feet was melting in ugly patches, and Dohui watched it with a detached gaze.
Snow was so beautiful — but the moment it started to melt, it turned slushy and black, like dirty dishwater. Dohui stepped carefully around those spots, deliberately picking his path.
All of a sudden, a strange, unsettling sense rippled up his spine. The feeling of someone staring at the back of his head.
Dohui spun around quickly, face taut with unease — and directly behind him was a van, aligned perfectly along the same path he’d been walking. There were no cars in front of it, and it easily could have just driven past — yet it was moving at an unnervingly slow crawl, as though tracing his exact route.
The line up his spine sharpened, and Dohui quickened his pace. The van rolled its wheels to match his stride. Dohui broke into a run — the van picked up speed. And then with a sharp screech, it cut sharply and blocked his path.
Clunk. The van door slid open, gaping like the mouth of a cave. The eyes watching him from inside were unwelcoming. Dark irises that looked almost like will-o’-wisps burning inside them.
Three of them. All dressed in matching black suits as if they’d just come from a funeral. Even so, a particular air of menace hadn’t left them — jacket buttons undone haphazardly, white shirts pulled open, too big to stay closed across their frames.
At the same time, an intensely aggressive energy pounded against Dohui’s heart without permission. As he stumbled backward, the dark opening spat out a large-bodied man. Dohui had never been caught in a situation this threatening in his life — he couldn’t even blink.
“……”
His voice wouldn’t come out properly. He had no idea who these men were, and yet an overwhelming sense of dread bored straight into the top of his skull.
“Let’s go.”
The moment the rough-looking man said those words, Dohui turned and bolted — but the back of his neck snapped backward. The brutal force that grabbed his hood yanked his body off-balance. Every time he struggled, the plastic bag around his wrist swung wildly in every direction.
“Help——!”
The crushing pressure was so immense he could barely breathe, but he scraped his throat raw trying to call for help. If I make even a little more noise, someone might notice me. There was no one on this two-lane road, but he refused to let go of hope.
The man’s large hand, however, seized not his hood this time, but a fistful of Dohui’s hair. Separate from the sudden spike of terror, it felt like his scalp was being torn right off. The man pulled with reckless force, as if fully intent on ripping every strand out.
Dohui had no choice but to be dragged along. The difference in strength was stark — he screamed out, but truly no one came. There were only two shadows on the ground: his own, and the man’s.
Tears stung sharply behind his eyes as Dohui thrashed. And on top of everything, there was more than one of them.
“Damn it. Little punk.”
“I — you have the wrong person.”
“Shut your mouth. Thieving little bastard.”
“No, no——”
He didn’t know what he’d done wrong, and he had even less idea who these people were. Men he’d never seen before in his life were trying to take him away.
Dohui fought desperately to shake off the hand gripping his hair, but the merciless force dragged him into the van. His body, thrown in like deadweight, trembled from the impact. The door slammed shut immediately after.
There was no time to despair at being completely cut off from the outside. The moment Dohui tried to push himself up, a blow struck the side of his head hard enough to snap it sideways — and then something dark was pulled over his head.
Hff…… hff…… Each exhale made the fabric puff outward before settling back. His breathing was rapid — fast enough to border on hyperventilation.
Whether or not Dohui was struggling meant nothing to the men — they shoved his body with their bulk. Van wall on the left, men surrounding him on the right, front, and back.
He wanted to ask who they were, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. He must have bitten the inside of his cheek while being struck defenselessly — he tasted iron in his mouth. These were people who raised their hands without hesitation. He had no way of knowing what they’d do if he stepped even slightly out of line.
One of the men wound something around Dohui’s wrists. The cord was wrapped so tightly, with no consideration at all, that it felt like his wrists might be severed clean off. At the cord biting mercilessly into his skin, Dohui let out a low, pained sound.
“……Hk.”
At the pitiful sound of near-crying, the man clicked his tongue and moved away slightly.
