****
Se-geon went to school after two weeks and submitted his letter of withdrawal.
“Are you crazy! In this day and age, what do you plan to do without even graduating high school? You punk! I know you must be distracted because of what happened, but are you really thinking of quitting and becoming a gangster or something?”
Se-geon's homeroom teacher, Teacher Yun Deok-yong, was an old teacher whose age was now close to retirement, and a person who had built such a wall against worldly success that he had never even once become the common head of student affairs. It wasn't that he was popular with the students either, but he was a model teacher who, in his own way, faithfully adhered to his duties as a teacher.
After sticking a marble ashtray in the principal's head at a famous private high school in Gangnam, he had been shuffled from one insignificant post to another, but as he had lived a teaching life with nothing to be ashamed of under the heavens, his character was as upright as anyone's.
“By that logic, after graduating high school, I'd have to graduate from college too, wouldn't I? I don't have that kind of time to spare.”
“If you don't even graduate from high school, you can't get that whatchamacallit you like so much.”
“A motor racer license?”
“Yeah. You can't even get that, can you? If you let your feelings get the best of you right now and quit school, you'll regret it more than you can imagine, you punk!”
However, Se-geon had already made up his mind.
It was, of course, a shame that he wouldn't be able to get a motocross license, but it wasn't as if running around brandishing a Desert Eagle and a Claymore like Sylvester was legal, and in that case, it would only increase the chances of leaving a trail to be caught. Se-geon forced a smile.
“I've already made up my mind. And it's because I have something I have to do.”
“You've made up your mind to be a gangster? Huh?”
Was it perhaps because Se-geon had been hanging out with biker gangs? The homeroom teacher seemed to think Se-geon was joining some kind of violent organization. From Se-geon's perspective, it was just that the biker gangs had latched onto him since he was a good motorcycle rider, but that, of course, was no excuse.
“It's not a bad thing. In fact, it's on the good side.”
Se-geon said so and scratched his nose, as if feeling awkward himself. He then bent his waist at a 90-degree angle and bowed.
“Well then, thank you for everything until now.”
Se-geon said that and left. Teacher Yun Deok-yong stared at Se-geon’s back in disbelief. Just then, the door opened and the head of student affairs came in.
“Teacher Yun? What’s going on?”
“No, it's just that punk looks like he's heading off to a battlefield. Damn it. As if he’s a student soldier or something. What does he mean, withdrawing.”
“Ah, that punk. Isn't he a troublemaker? It’s for the best…”
At that moment, the ashtray that was on Teacher Yun’s desk flew toward the head of student affairs’ head.
<><><>
When Se-geon left the school gates, Song Deok-yeon was already there waiting for him. He was waiting while wearing a beret, and as soon as he saw Se-geon, he greeted him with a question.
“So, did you quit school alright?”
“Yes. Now that it’s done, for some reason it feels like I’m doing something I shouldn't be. Anyway, what happened to Sylvester?”
“He already left this morning.”
Song Deok-yeon said so and let out a sigh.
“Listen, you punk. The Jinma Hunter, Father Sylvester, is a monster known to everyone in this world. Do you think a person like that would even bother with a greenhorn like you?”
“Is he that incredible?”
“Well, did he not seem incredible to you?”
“He looked pretty young, though.”
As Se-geon grumbled like that, Deok-yeon got into his own car. It was a '94 model Pride sedan, a car that, in this day and age, one would be afraid of others seeing. Se-geon unconsciously furrowed his brow.
“There’s certainly a huge difference. From a Corvette to a Pride.”
“What's wrong with a Pride, you punk? It's because of guys like you that people needlessly throw away perfectly good cars and replace them, isn't it? Besides, if you drive a nice car doing this kind of work, it just attracts more attention.”
“Wouldn't being too shabby also leave a strong impression?”
“Shut up, you punk. Just get in, quick.”
He said that and smacked Se-geon on the head. Although he had hit him playfully, the punch of a former special forces soldier had a special sting to it, so Se-geon readily shut his mouth.
“What did you do about your house?”
Song Deok-yeon threw the question while the car was stopped at a signal. At that, Se-geon shrugged his shoulders.
“I gave it to my younger uncle. Along with the factory.”
“Huh? You don't have any money? Then?”
“My younger uncle gave me about 20 million, why?”
“Hmm. We have to buy equipment, obviously. I doubt you're planning to fight vampires with your bare hands.”
“Equipment, you mean, guns?”
“I can’t give you a gun yet. First, let's buy the basic equipment.”
Deok-yeon said so and stepped on the accelerator.
<><><>
Se-geon was led by Deok-yeon to a warehouse district. It was an old red-brick building that was originally a warehouse used by the U.S. military, but it had been sold back to civilians when the base relocated.
Perhaps because many delinquents hung around the area, there was graffiti that read ‘Rave Jeans’ scrawled on the wall with clumsy skill. Reading it, Se-geon grumbled to himself that it really sounded like a brand name.
Song Deok-yeon pressed the bell at the entrance and spoke to Se-geon, who was looking all around.
“Just stand still. Don’t you know that looking around like that makes people suspicious?”
“Really? It doesn’t seem like anyone is watching.”
Just then, the warehouse door opened and an old man with stark white dreadlocks came out. Dressed in a Hawaiian shirt unbefitting the dark warehouse atmosphere, the old man looked at Song Deok-yeon and then spread his arms, welcoming him with a fuss.
“Whoa! Look who it is. It's Sergeant Song! It's been a while.”
“Been a while, my ass.”
Song Deok-yeon said, while taking a bag out of the car trunk.
“Here, I’ve brought the blood donations.”
“Ooh. So it’s true you hit the jackpot leeching off a Jinma Hunter. This much?”
The old man took the bag and opened it. Inside, it was filled with blood contained in vinyl packs. Song Deok-yeon looked at it and grinned.
“It’s too early to be surprised, there’s one more bag. I came all this way because I was worried you’d be crushed to death by cash, old man.”
“That much? The market price is going to drop.”
“This isn't some horse racing ticket, what reason is there for it to drop? Huh? Se-geon, go get the other bag from inside.”
“Yes.”
Se-geon answered and brought the bag. Then the old man looked at the blood filling the bags and scratched his head.
“That’s an incredible amount. I guess there’s a lot to be gained from a Jinma Hunter, huh?”
“Hurry up and give us the cash.”
“Hold on. By the way, who’s the kid over there?”
“Ah, I’m planning on raising him starting today. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Is that so? Then all of you, follow me inside.”
He said that and went inside. Se-geon followed him in, looking around his surroundings. Inside the warehouse, a few trailer boxes were stacked up, and inside them were wooden crates, and a few things that looked like electronic equipment were placed about.
A few mercury lamps hung from the ceiling, buzzing and casting shadows.
“What are all these things?”
“Be quiet. Are you worried I won't tell you later? Don't worry about it. Hey, old man. Hurry it up.”
At that, the dreadlocked old man put the vinyl packs into some kind of machine and began appraising them one by one. After the infrared and laser scans were finished inside the device, the results were displayed on an LCD screen.
“What's this? It's all trash. Most of it is VT 22.3?”
The old man said, looking at Song Deok-yeon. At that, Song Deok-yeon's face scrunched up. Was it because the number came out much lower than expected?
“Well, they’re the Sangdong-pa guys, so I guess they would be trash. But is it that low? You didn't tamper with the machine, did you?”
“If you don't trust me, you can find another dealer. Do you think this machine is some ordinary piece of junk? I'm doing business at a loss here, too. There’s a thing in this world called depreciation cost.
“Aah. I was just saying. You’re impossible, old man. So how much?”
“About 2.5 million won each. That's the market price for VT 22, how about it?”
“There’s a point 3 after it, isn't there? Why don't you give me more?”
“Don't joke around. Even at 2.5 million won each, it's already over 100 million won! Getting that much cash isn't a joke, you know. And the principle is to round off. 22.3 is 22, what more is there to say. It's not like we've been doing this business for just a day or two.”
At that, Song Deok-yeon had nothing more to say. The old man took the vampires' blood and gathered the cash, filling the bag with it instead of blood. Then Se-geon, who had been watching this strange transaction, couldn't hold back his curiosity and asked.
“Are you selling blood?”
“Eh?”
At that moment, the old man, surprised, glared as he looked back and forth between Se-geon and Song Deok-yeon. Then Song Deok-yeon cleared his throat with a hmm hmm and explained to the old man.
“He's a real newbie and doesn't know this industry, so don't worry.”
“That may be, but he really is a kid who knows nothing. What on earth possessed you to ruin a kid's life like this?”
“Oh, right. Can I buy about two blood collection kits for this kid to use?”
“In that case, I'll deduct the price and give you the rest.”
“Well, sure. Since I'm buying two, why don't you throw one in for free?”
“Would you take a used one then? Looks like that Seok-jung fellow got done in and died. I collected his equipment, which is a shame. With that, I can give you three.”
“Sure, then.”
Then the old man handed a blood-stained collection kit to Se-geon. Se-geon took it and examined it, feeling bewildered.
It was a form where a syringe needle was attached to something like a small hammer, and a vinyl pack was attached behind it. Inside the vinyl pack was a chemical to prevent the blood from clotting.
The handle was heavy, and it seemed to have batteries inside.
“You use this to collect the vampire's blood. Then I'll use that VT scanner to check how high-purity that vampire is and set a price. Got it? This collection kit uses a lithium-ion battery, so keep it well-charged. You’ll lose sleep at night out of sheer frustration if you kill all the vampires only to find you can't suck their blood because you didn't charge the battery.”
“Yes. I see.”
Se-geon answered and looked at the blood collection kit. Deok-yeon grabbed the money bag and then led the dazed Se-geon away.
“Well then, old man. Good business to you.”
“Ah, you too. You try not to get killed and live a long, long life.”
Deok-yeon and Se-geon thus exited the warehouse. It was only then that Se-geon came to his senses and asked Deok-yeon.
“Wait! Was that a vampire's blood, just now?”
“What did you think it was?”
“No, I thought maybe it was RH- or something... you know, that kind of thing is expensive in Korea.”
Se-geon said, stammering. To sell a vampire's blood to get money. If so, then didn't that mean humans were also sucking the blood of vampires?
When that thought struck him, Se-geon suddenly felt a tightness in his chest. He couldn't express it in words, but it was an ominous feeling. Se-geon shook his head, trying hard to shake off that feeling. Deok-yeon saw him and grinned.
“No way. For RH-, human blood is more expensive than vampire blood. A vampire's RH- is a truly worthless item.”
“There's that, but. What value does vampire blood even have to be sold so expensively?”
“That stuff doesn't even count as expensive. They were trash who hadn't been vampires for long, so the purity of their blood is excessively low. But, even blood like that...”
Deok-yeon said, pointing to Se-geon's arm. Looking at that arm, which had been severed and reattached, Se-geon thought he could understand why vampire blood was sold at such a high price. Was it not, in fact, the greatest healing agent that surpassed modern medicine?
“What if vampire blood was used to reattach that arm? Can you understand now?”
“What! To inject vampire blood. Wouldn't you become a vampire then?”
“There are cases where one becomes a vampire, but most of the time that doesn't happen. The probability becomes much higher if you drink it through the mouth, though.”
Only then did Se-geon recall how, when Sylvester had first contacted him, he had persistently asked whether he had drunk the blood or not.
“I-I see. It would certainly be traded at a high price. So is that how vampire hunters make money?”
“Well, the uses for vampire blood are endless beyond that. But it's definitely our main source of income, that's for sure. Why? Are you disappointed? Because we're not apostles of justice?”
“A little. I thought we would be taking on requests from people.”
“To receive requests, you need a channel to receive them, but word would get out quickly and it would become a headache.”
Deok-yeon said that and got into the Pride sedan. He then placed the money bag in the back.
“Now, with this many 'blood donation certificates,' we probably won't have any trouble just playing and eating for a while. Get in. I'll guide you to my hideout.”
“Yes.”
Se-geon, unable to hide his uneasy feeling, reluctantly got into Deok-yeon's sedan. A single white Pride left the warehouse behind and drove off down the deserted road.