****
“Uuuuugh.”
What Han Se-gun saw when he opened his eyes was a flickering fluorescent light. It was an old fluorescent bulb fitted into a lamp shade connected to the ceiling by a chain, a sight rarely seen these days.
Han Se-gun looked at that fluorescent light and then scanned his surroundings. It seemed he had lost consciousness because he was hungry and had lost some blood. If so, being in a police station holding cell would have been the natural outcome… so why was he in a place like this?
“Huh?”
As Han Se-gun shifted his body, a roll of toilet paper fell from behind his back. It was something he had taken and simply pressed against the wound to stop the bleeding in the area where he had been slightly stabbed by a knife earlier. It was fortunate that only the skin had been pierced; if he had relied on such emergency treatment after being stabbed in a kidney, he would have become a guest of the afterlife right then and there.
Han Se-gun rubbed his eyes and looked around. On the walls, celebrity bromides that looked as if they had been torn from various places were lined up, and photos cut out from sports newspapers and the like were also pasted everywhere. Those celebrity photos, so densely plastered, formed a melting pot of idols, a veritable pantheon.
Was this how the barbaric Crusaders felt when they rushed into a beautiful Islamic mosque with muddy feet? Han Se-gun was experiencing a sense of culture shock.
The girls, who appeared to be the residents of this temple, were tangled together under random blankets inside the room. Judging by the state of the blankets, it seemed they had never met with water since the day they were spread on this floor, and the girls sleeping there also looked like runaway girls.
If Han Se-gun had not crushed the men, the men would have been tangled up here together, but perhaps because the men had all been taken to the police station or the hospital, there were only girls.
“Damn it. This is nothing short of a pigsty.”
Just as Han Se-gun said, the inside of the room was a literal pigsty. If there was one thing neatly organized in this room, it was the butane gas canisters stood up in a row in the corner of the room. Looking at the empty canisters stacked tightly by type, it would not have been strange if this house blew up at any moment.
“Ah, yeah… you’re awake…?”
Perhaps because Han Se-gun was rustling about, one girl opened her eyes. She saw Han Se-gun, brushed back her hair, and wiped the sleep from her eyes.
“I’ve intruded. I’ll be going now.”
Han Se-gun raised his body. However, perhaps because he was hungry, his dizziness flared up again. At that moment, she grabbed Han Se-gun’s hand.
“You were stabbed with a knife. If you go out… will you be okay?”
“…”
Han Se-gun’s hand was held by her, who spoke in a sluggish, incoherent manner. Han Se-gun slumped back down onto the blanket that reeked of dust. Then, as if something were pleasant, she approached Han Se-gun while smiling like an idiot.
“Ah, hey… do you want to sleep together?”
“Ugh.”
Han Se-gun bit his tongue at her incredibly blunt words. However, she approached Han Se-gun as if it were the most natural thing in the world, just as she had always done. Han Se-gun looked at her hazy expression and returned the same line the police had once said to him.
“Are you high on thinner?”
At any rate, anyone would be flustered if they were suddenly asked to have sex in a place like this. Unless one was exceptionally starved for it, there was no reason to accept. Han Se-gun pushed her away and walked toward the door. At that, she looked at Han Se-gun in bewilderment.
“Why?”
“I’m too hungry to get it up.”
Han Se-gun said that and shook his head from side to side. He had just made up an excuse because he couldn’t think of anything else, but she accepted it. It seemed that even among those who ran away from home and made a habit of mixed sleeping, there were quite a few who suffered from not being able to get it up.
Thinking of such things might have made one laugh, but Han Se-gun found it difficult to accept the situation he was currently in. He had cruelly destroyed guys he had no connection with, simply because they had picked a fight.
Am I going crazy?
Distrust toward himself crawled up slowly within his heart. Indeed, it would not be strange even if he did go crazy. His family had died right before his eyes, and he had personally shot and killed a person without even knowing if they were guilty or not. It was actually stranger to be sane.
He did not know what this idiotic woman was thinking by doing this, but if she were to tell the police of his whereabouts, or if those guys who got beaten up harbored thoughts of revenge, it would be a headache, so he did not want to stay for very long.
“Hmm. Well, it seems I need to go get something to eat, so I’m leaving. Oh, and I’m sorry for smashing your boyfriends.”
“It’s okay. What boyfriends…”
She said that and stood up from her spot. To her, this young man was the very ‘reality’ she had been searching for so desperately. She could not part ways before knowing his name or even his phone number.
“Let’s go out together.”
“I’m the one who decides that.”
“Huh?”
“No. It’s nothing.”
Han Se-gun opened the door. Cold air flowed inside. After breathing the air of a room that resembled a chemical warehouse with various toxic substances like thinner and butane gas, coming outside made his mind feel clear.
“Cough, cough.”
However, the woman coughed repeatedly. It seemed her bronchial tubes were badly damaged. Han Se-gun looked at her and then raised his head. The sky was brightening from the east. Between the tall church spires and telephone poles, the sky of Seoul looked as small as a palm.
“The sun is rising already.”
“Ah, hey…”
“But why are you following me out? It would be better for you to sleep more.”
Han Se-gun looked at the woman and shrugged his shoulders. Come to think of it, this woman was the very woman who had said he looked like Kurt Cobain when Han Se-gun first met her in front of the station. she did not even think to hide her goodwill toward Han Se-gun.
“No. Just. Because I thought you might get lost.”
“No way. It’s not like I’m a child.”
Han Se-gun retorted like that. However, Han Se-gun could also tell that she had no ill intent. Could it be said that she was like a devoted fan worshipping a pop star?
<><><>
Han Se-gun and Yu-mi moved their steps toward a nearby convenience store. While pouring water into cup ramen and tearing the packaging of a sandwich, they looked out the window and saw people heading toward school or work. The two sat at the table, blankly watching those who lived with a clear purpose—or at least, people whose purpose for each day was certain.
In that regard, the two were very much alike. Was it because of that? Even sitting together without saying a word, it felt as if his heart was calming down a little just from that. It wasn't some kind of comfort or anything like that. It was just a sense of kinship; a strange sense of kinship was everything. Perhaps that is why humans are weak creatures.
To feel relieved just because there is someone else in the exact same position as oneself. Conversely, to become weak if one is alone without anyone in the same position… that is why Han Se-gun chose her as a conversation partner.
“I tried to look for a job. I wasted a day.”
Han Se-gun muttered that as he snapped his wooden chopsticks. Because Yu-mi had seen Han Se-gun digging through the local information magazines yesterday, she knew that.
“Is the wound okay?”
“Only about 1 centimeter of skin was torn. It would be good to get stitches, but I can’t do that, so it’ll heal if I wait. More than that, I’m more worried about the hole in my only autumn coat.”
He spoke like that and devoured the sandwich. As he ate breakfast like this, his vitality returned, and the way he had been crying and grieving during that time felt ridiculous. While emotions take priority over everything else when they become intense, once that torrent passes, they leave behind nothing but pathetic muddy water. It is natural for even the most sublime emotion to leave behind muddy water, and Han Se-gun’s case was no exception.
“I’m Jin Yu-mi.”
“I didn't ask.”
Han Se-gun said bluntly.
<><><>
On that day as well, Kim Seong-hui was guarding the counter of Arjuna. She, who had been working on wiping the show window with a dry cloth, rearranging products, and removing dust, wiped the sweat flowing on her forehead and looked out the window.
“Should I hire a part-timer or something?”
Actually, if she could have hired one, she would have already. However, her business straddles two areas: the legal area and the illegal area. Therefore, hiring is not something that can be done carelessly. Because there is no one she can trust.
The autumn morning sunlight was discolored because of the tinted glass. She stopped her work for a moment and looked out the window. But it was then.
Vrooooooooom!
A black Corvette Coupe appeared through the alley. A metal body made in a factory, veins flowing toward a heart that emitted an explosive sound. To a speed freak, it would not be a mere car. However, to her, it held a meaning beyond that. Because the human who drove that was someone who could be counted on one hand, at least in Korea, and one of them was a person who held a tremendous meaning for her.
“Silvy?”
Screeeech!
The car came to a violent stop in front of Arjuna. And from the opened body, a silver-haired priest wearing a black coat stepped out.
A lithe physique like that of a model, delicate features that could be called androgynous in a certain sense, but the spirit dwelling within was a bottomless abyss, cruel to the point of being nihilistic. That was the Jinma (True Ancestor) Hunter, Father Silvester.
The 24 Jinma who stand at the pinnacle of vampires. The only hunter who threatens those Jinma. He had returned to Korea once again.
“Ah…”
Kim Seong-hui covered her face with her hands with an expression as if she were about to cry. The wind blew and leaves began to fall.
[Six high school girls, instigation of rape]
'On the 4th, six individuals including Miss M, who is enrolled in H Girls' High School, were booked without detention. Based on the testimony of the victim, Miss Y, the police apprehended them at a nearby studio apartment; they are suspected of inciting their boyfriend, Mr. J, and others to gang-rape Miss Y several times in rotation, citing the reason that Miss Y usually did not listen and was arrogant.'
Row Gibson, who was looking at the newspaper article that popped up on his computer monitor, let out a sigh. There was no room for doubt that the victim, Miss Y, in this article was the very girl he had saved.
“From the perspective of the person who suffered, it’s a cold article, enough to make one’s blood boil with resentment.”
Looking at other articles and related data, it said she eventually attempted suicide due to a nervous breakdown and had already been hospitalized for a year. A year—a single night is enough for a person to go crazy. Humans are not as strong as living beings as they think they are, and the mind is on the same line.
She must have been trapped in the hospital with a heart that had already died contained within her physical body.
But if so, why did she escape the hospital? When his thoughts reached that point, Row Gibson—no, the Jinma Phantom—smiled. Death is not complete. At least for vampires—is he himself not the evidence? Likewise, there is no basis anywhere to conclude that her heart has died.
However, whatever her inner thoughts might be, if she has been hospitalized for a year, the burden on the household finances must be no small matter. Is it really alright? He felt such a worry.
If a vampire worries about others, it would be something for a dog to laugh at, but the Jinma Phantom was completely different from general vampires.
With a destructive and nihilistic personality, even a human would be prone to dying young, so what would be the case for him, who has lived for over a thousand years? Unless one lives each day proactively, living a long life is a lost cause from the start.
“Bill is going to say something again.”
He muttered that as he put on his coat. Preparing to go out after turning off the computer, he was not the Jinma Phantom but the diligent businessman Row Gibson.
The ravine carved between Row Gibson and the Jinma Phantom was only in status and name; according to that unchanging proactive personality… it was a principle to take responsibility until the end for a life once saved. For a vampire’s principle, it was extremely Catholic-ethical.
As a result, he saved Wilhelm, who had been a member of the Hitler Youth during World War II, and had now made him into his kin.
Despite that, Bill (Wilhelm) hated it terribly when he saved other humans and took responsibility for them. Because saving a human and, if they wish, turning them into a vampire only weakens Phantom’s power and yields no benefit.
Although the Jinma Phantom is a legendary magical creature with a VT of 400,000 (50cc of his blood can turn 40,000 adult men into vampires) and is proficient in various dark arts, nevertheless, fellow Jinma such as Jeok-yo (Red Demon), Chang-un (Blue Cloud), and Sepia were killed by the Jinma Hunter.
There is no law saying that even Phantom cannot be hunted.
Therefore, Bill wanted Phantom to concentrate only on preserving his own power without worrying about others. That was why he always nagged Phantom and, while volunteering as Row Gibson’s secretary, followed him anywhere on this Earth.
Even such a Bill fell into sleep as the sun rose. Although he was the scion of the Jinma Phantom, Bill was still a young vampire only in his late 60s, so he did not yet have the power to overcome the sun.
“I am… different.”
He muttered that and raised his right hand. A red mist enveloped his arm and writhed in a spiral. Without having to press the button himself, the call lamp of the elevator came on. Bill would have scolded him again for using his abilities for something useless, but the sun had put his cute kin to sleep.
‘Is this something to be thankful to the sun for?’
He boarded the elevator with a smile. A vampire who overcame the sun. Living for over a thousand years, he permeated among humans, accumulated vast wealth, and ruled over humans.
To him, vampire hunters were not enemies. Because vampire hunters who move for money cannot overcome the temptation of the money he scatters.
‘Dust to dust, ashes to ashes…’
The silver-haired priest in black clothes who sings an old requiem that often appears in vampire movies and the like. Only the Jinma Hunter Silvester, who has lived as long as the Jinma in search of the tears of a vampire, can overcome the temptation and attack.
However, the successful businessman Row Gibson has countless bodyguards, and sponsors are spread out regardless of political or financial circles. It was also he who used the U.S. federal government to revoke Silvester’s nationality and used the Vatican to have Silvester excommunicated.
A vampire who held financial power and authority possessed a ‘human power’ more powerful than any ‘human.’ Hunting Jeok-yo, Chang-un, and Sepia even under such adverse conditions was something worthy of praise. Phantom sent unreserved acclaim to the Jinma Hunter Silvester.
Clap, clap, clap…
The sound of applause filled the elevator. Not being human, it would not even be a morning exercise for him even if he jumped down from around the 29th floor through a window. However, in order to reign over the world of humans, one must follow their rules.
“I don’t know if what I ordered has arrived.”
Following Bill’s advice, he had ordered a bouquet of flowers to be placed in front of the lobby in advance so that he could finish his work and go with the bouquet.
Unlike the vampire hunters who are filled with murderous intent like wounded wild dogs and wander through the night of greed and desire, a vampire who takes a refreshing shower in a royal suite, wears a suit personally made by a famous designer, and sets out while receiving greetings from hotel boys. Could there be another contradictory contrast like this?
Poor Dracula. A weak vampire who cannot even overcome the sun and submits to the cross. The king of true vampires ruled over the financial world, manipulated the political world, and reigned over humans. Without even needing to cross over someone else’s house in the middle of the night to drink blood, if he scatters money, humans will bring and offer blood on their own.
A desire to tear at a living nape? A desire to tear an unoxidized, savory vein and taste the artery pumping from the heart like a leaping salmon?
One who submits to such cheap desires is no different from a petty thief in a slum who breaks a show window and steals goods. Such a person is not worthy of becoming the king of humans, let alone the king of vampires.
But really, why do such vampires exist? Even if one lives for over a thousand years and enjoys every pleasure one can enjoy and every wealth and honor, when will the endless life and desire be satisfied?
A human problem that even humans could not answer, a philosophical topic of humans for which there are many answers but no correct one, applies exactly the same to vampires.
Of course, that answer is unknown even to the Jinma Phantom, who is the king of vampires.
That is why he helps humans for his own sake.
Whether that salvation is achieved or not, he enjoys bestowing upon humans what God cannot give. Arrogant? if interest in a girl who wandered the streets of the night, a sea of lights and signs, wearing a hospital gown is arrogance, then the humans who neglected her even while seeing her at that time must be too humble.
The Jinma Phantom stepped out of the hotel and walked toward his beloved horse, a Dodge Viper GTS.