“The medication has completely dried up on the market. The one dose I have left for today — I barely managed to get my hands on it, and only by paying a premium.”
The damn treatment wasn’t covered by medical insurance, and since his occupation was theft, Gangwoo was reluctant to leave any treatment records behind. The only clinic that would agree to his absurd demands — no records, and source the medication through unofficial channels — was Kim Internal Medicine. Gangwoo accepted what Hanmin said without argument.
“……Alright. I should at least cover the premium. I’ll go home and bring it later. How much? Ten percent?”
“Twenty percent. ……Don’t look at me like that. Fifteen percent is the premium and I’m only taking five percent for myself. Something’s clearly gone wrong with the supply line. Today I managed to work something out, but next week is the real problem.”
Hanmin grumbled as he opened the refrigerator in the corner of the exam room — the one with a note stuck to it in terrible handwriting that read Jeh Gangwoo — exclusive use. Alright. Gangwoo answered and lay back on the recliner bed. The plastic cover wrapped around the bed clung to his back.
“Have you lost weight?”
Hanmin said, pulling a stool over and sitting beside him. On the cart sat a single session’s worth of medication, a tourniquet for drawing blood, a catheter, and three or four bags of IV fluid to help the drug absorb into the body more easily.
“A thief who puts on weight ought to close up shop.”
He laughed it off, but the moment he caught sight of the large-gauge needle, Gangwoo’s stomach clenched on its own. By the time the treatment was over, he’d drop another two or three kilograms from where he was now.
“Did last night go alright? You put quite a lot into that one.”
Hanmin pressed the pads of his fingers along the vein to find a spot for the needle. Three intravenous injections once a week for three years straight. Finding anywhere left to inject on Gangwoo’s upper body had become nearly impossible.
Hanmin let out a long sigh and tied off the right armpit and left forearm with the tourniquet. Gangwoo drew in a deep breath as well.
“It went well enough — that’s why I’m here. If it had gone wrong, I’d have tied an anchor around myself and jumped straight into the sea off Hangdong. That’d probably hurt less. Ugh——!”
“Bold of you to say you’re dying in front of a doctor.”
“A moment ago you were telling me to go dig my own grave out back.”
“Shut up and open your mouth.”
Hanmin stacked three disposable tongue depressors and pressed them between his teeth.
Gangwoo had once said that receiving the treatment felt like drinking vodka directly into his veins. Someone in good health couldn’t even begin to imagine how much it hurt. Clenching his teeth hard enough for the tendons at his jaw to stand out — with the risk of cracking them — giving him a tongue depressor to bite down on was the only thing Hanmin could do.
After the forearm, needles went into the back of the right elbow and just below the collarbone on the same side. The moment the medication was introduced through the port connected to the IV, it wasn’t long before a boiling groan tore out of Gangwoo’s throat.
“Ugh, hnngh……”
He couldn’t even close his eyes. If he did, every sensation in his body would converge into a single point of pain.
Tens of thousands of bees seemed to swarm and buzz beside his ears, and stars flashed before his eyes. On the tip of his tongue, the rough texture and bland taste of the tongue depressor lingered.
Fat beads of sweat ran down from his temples and shoulders. In less than a few seconds, Gangwoo’s head dropped to the side, limp.
Hanmin patted his own thigh and stood up. Nothing unusual. Sometimes Gangwoo would cry out that it hurt and try to yank the needle out or thrash his way off the bed, so he’d been sedated for a while with a tranquilizer — that was all.
He rolled a towel and propped it under Gangwoo’s neck, then went straight to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and took out a cold can of beer. At least three quiet hours stretched ahead of him.
* * *
The late summer sunlight crossed the windowsill and reached Gangwoo’s thigh. The burning heat on his thigh brought him back to his senses.
His upper body, damp with cold sweat, was in sharp contrast to his jeans, which were so dry they seemed they’d crumble at a touch. Over the spots where the needles had gone in, large white gauze pads and bandages had been applied. A faint smell of food brushed past his nose.
“Come eat!”
A voice from the living room broke the silence. It was no longer morning — it was time for lunch.
Gangwoo got up from the bed and roughly wiped the sweat away with the towel that had been propped under his neck. He pulled on the shirt he’d tossed carelessly onto the desk and pushed aside the bead curtain hanging at the kitchen entrance. Hanmin, who had been half-heartedly eating his hangover soup while watching television, looked up at him and frowned.
“Button up. What is this, a photo shoot? It’s not like you’re showing off——”
“If you’re jealous, you could always try working out. Muscle is a lot more intimidating than a beard that only grows one centimeter after a hundred days of trying.”
“Ha. Does having a lot of muscle make bullets swerve away?”
Hanmin sneered, opening the front of his lab coat to show what was underneath. A Glock 40 hung slack in a holster drooping below his armpit. Gangwoo, who recognized the model, let out an exaggerated whistle of admiration.
A 10mm caliber semi-automatic pistol — more than capable of taking down not just a person but a wild boar or a deer. Running a clinic single-handedly, where gang members, bar workers, shady characters involved in all manner of back-alley business, and the occasional foreign mafia member who’d gotten hurt during an illicit deal came and went at all hours — having at least one pistol on hand was the sensible thing. Besides, in the old district, you could buy a handgun for the price of a single serving of grilled pork belly.
“Jeh Gangwoo, you’re the crazy one for walking around without a gun.”
“I know how to shoot. I shoot well. I just choose not to. If you’re pulling a weapon and taking something, that’s robbery, not theft. ……Anyway, where did the milmyeon I bought go?”
On the dining table sat a chicken breast and sweet potato salad, nutritionally balanced with carbohydrates, protein, and fat. Piled generously on top were cherry tomatoes — the one thing he couldn’t stand.
“You need to eat properly right after treatment.”
“Come on, it’s hot out. I was looking forward to something cool.”
Hanmin took offense at having a thoughtfully prepared meal turned down. He hooked a finger over the edge of the plate and dragged it toward himself.
“Then starve.”
“No, no — I’ll eat. I’ll eat well.”
Gangwoo quickly pulled the salad back. Hanmin bared his teeth in an unimpressed expression, then turned his gaze back to the television.
―A theft occurred last night at Sunshine Harbor Building in the Coastal District of Hangdong Special Autonomous City. The stolen items include one jade sculpture and a jewelry collection belonging to Hangdong Bank President Bang Seokju, totaling 36 items across 78 pieces.
“There it is. My swan song.”
Gangwoo pointed his fork at the television. On screen, footage of Jerry caught on a security camera was playing. Hanmin cracked open another can of beer at this hour of the afternoon and cast a sideways glance at the news.
“Is that you? You look terrible.”
“That’s just how everyone looks when they’ve got a mask on.”
Seizing the moment when Hanmin’s gaze was fixed on the television, Gangwoo grabbed a few cherry tomatoes with his hand and quickly dropped them into the hangover soup. He wiped the salad dressing off his fingers on the tablecloth. By then the news had cut to a live briefing.
Standing before a podium marked with the logos of Hangdong Metropolitan Police and ICPO was the man who had shot at Gangwoo the night before. The news anchor continued her commentary over the scene.
―The Hangdong Metropolitan Police and ICPO consider Jerry the prime suspect. Jerry is a notorious thief who has carried out large-scale robberies dozens of times around the world, centered on Hangdong. Amid growing calls for accountability over the inadequate response from police and ICPO, we will now hear from ICPO Investigator Oh Jinhwan.
“Is that him?”
Hanmin drank his beer, watching Jinhwan on screen.
“Who?”
“Your first kiss.”
“What the hell are you on about?”
Gangwoo shot up from his seat. Years ago at a crime scene, he had been kissed out of nowhere by a stranger — but it wasn’t that man. He casually let the last remaining cherry tomato roll off onto the floor and pointed to his left shoulder.
“Did you not see it during treatment earlier? That bastard shot me in the shoulder last night. There are things you say and things you don’t. And that guy is married. Was, anyway. He’s divorced now.”
“How would you know that?”
“I know his ex. ……Eh, that’s a boring story. Drop it — just eat your morning meal.”
He stabbed a piece of chicken breast with his fork and jutted his chin toward the ox blood hangover soup. Hanmin picked up his spoon as well.
“Huh? Why are there tomatoes in the hangover soup?”
“……”
“Is this what they used to call fusion back in the day? Hmm, it’s good though. Hey, Jeh Gangwoo — where’s this place from?”
“……It’s a limited menu item, apparently. It might not be available when you go.”
Gangwoo watched with weary eyes as Hanmin fished out only the tomatoes with his spoon and ate them. On screen, Jinhwan paid no mind to the two of them bickering and delivered his statement.
―ICPO and police pursued Jerry all the way to the rooftop of Sunshine Harbor Building. In the process, a minor incident occurred, and Jerry sustained a gunshot wound before falling into the Yellow Sea.
“I made it look like a fall to get away. For what it’s worth, I’m a special forces veteran with a wingsuit flying instructor’s license.”
Jinhwan recounted the one-sided shooting from the night before without any discernible emotion. Well — to Gangwoo, theft was a means of survival, one where he risked his life to pay for his medicine. But to Jinhwan, catching a thief was just a salaried job.
“Seeing that bastard’s face at the dinner table really gets on my nerves.”
Gangwoo chewed his chicken breast as thoroughly as if it were Jinhwan himself. Hanmin, who rarely had cause to step outside Kim Internal Medicine, watched the television with eyes full of curiosity.
―The Hangdong Metropolitan Police and ICPO launched a large-scale search operation with support from the Coast Guard and Navy, during which remains believed to be those of Jerry were discovered and are currently undergoing detailed autopsy at the National Forensic Service.
“Huh?”
“What?”
Gangwoo and Hanmin’s eyes met in midair. The piece of chicken breast dropped onto the plate with a dull thud. Hanmin quickly ducked his head and checked under the table. A dark shadow hung from Gangwoo’s feet, stretching long across the floorboards.
“You’re not a ghost, are you?”
Hanmin said, snapping back upright. Gangwoo, equally startled, let his shoulders drop back down from where they’d shot up.
