A tree branch that couldn’t bear the weight of the snow snapped with a dull crack and dropped. At the same time, a howl that sounded almost animal echoed from far off.
“Boss, they say everything’s ready.”
Under the bare trees buried in white, a man who’d been standing at a slant with a cigarette between his fingers kicked the oil drum in front of him. Red sparks flared up from the firewood, orange flames wavering as heat rolled out.
“Hey. Put that out. You’ll melt all the snow.”
“Yes, sir!”
At a single word, the hulking men behind him started moving briskly. He flicked the nearly finished cigarette into the snow without a care and walked toward the center where everyone had gathered. Beside the shoe prints he’d left, the dark ember died out.
Every direction was an open field of snow. Everything his eyes landed on was white. It was hard to believe the quiet, snow-covered expanse was actually a lake frozen solid, so Seunghyeok lifted the toe of his dress shoe and tapped the ground twice. Taesik, following behind, went pale and hurried to stop him.
“Boss...! That’ll crack!”
“Quit whining. If it were ice that fragile, the guys wouldn’t have had to work their asses off.”
Seunghyeok jerked his chin toward the men up ahead clustered around a large drill, then shoved both hands into his coat pockets.
It was the kind of cold that knifed through the gap in your collar. Wanting to finish fast and get back to the car, Seunghyeok quickened his pace.
With every step, snow compressed beneath his soles with a dry crunch. Hearing him approach, a man bound to a chair lifted his head.
Over sixty, maybe. Gray threaded through his hair, his lips split to hell, and dried blood caked the torn skin near his forehead. His face was so swollen it was hard to look at, like his nose had been broken. Seunghyeok frowned without meaning to.
“Tsk.”
Half-lidded eyes that couldn’t quite focus traced up slowly from Seunghyeok’s black shoes to the straight line of his suit pants, then the long hem of his coat.
When that fear-soaked gaze passed the red floral shirt and reached Seunghyeok’s blank face, the man jolted like he’d seen a grim reaper and started shaking.
“M-Manager Gu...?”
With his arms and legs tied to a crude wooden chair, his thrashing was stopped almost immediately. But the movement stirred the air, and the smell of blood spread again. A deeper crease carved into Seunghyeok’s brow.
“W-Wait, just a second...! Listen to me. I think the chairman misunderstood something!”
The man stared up at him with a desperate face, but Seunghyeok, looking annoyed, idly rubbed the edge of his ear with a finger.
“Yeah, yeah. Old men’s excuses are never original.”
His face stayed expressionless as he looked down. There wasn’t a trace of warmth in his eyes, but to Mr. Park, stripped of everything and tied up, it was the only rope left to grab.
He tried to drop to his knees, struggling, but all that happened was more blood leaking from the open wounds. The stronger the metallic stink became, the more Seunghyeok grimaced, pulling his head back.
“Come on, old man. Stay still, yeah? It stinks like blood.”
Seunghyeok lazily dragged up a pile of snow with his foot and kicked it toward the chair. Snow like finely shaved ice scattered over the blood that had stained the white field red.
“Just tell the chairman one more time for me, okay...? You know me. I’ve worked with Taeseong for years! Since the chairman started, that’s thirty years now. You really think I’d do something like that over money? Someone’s stirring shit up in the middle, I’m telling you...!”
Words as frantic as his voice spilled out between lips gone blue with cold and fear. Seunghyeok put on a deliberately sympathetic look, then crooked a finger at one of the brutes beside him.
“Hey. Come here.”
A man who, despite his size, kept his hands politely clasped, hurried a step forward. Seunghyeok clicked his tongue, then without hesitation slapped the back of the guy’s head as he stood there with his eyes lowered. The impact cracked across the frozen lakeside.
“You idiots. Thirty years is when you were just born, holding your mom’s hand and learning how to walk. Don’t you know how to respect your elders? Why the hell are you handling a geezer who’s about to die anyway like this?”
“S-Sorry!”
“Untie him.”
One of them steadied himself after the blow and rushed to Mr. Park. Mr. Park stiffened at the sharp jackknife pulled from a pocket, but the honed blade only sliced through the cable ties on his wrists and ankles before vanishing back into its sheath.
“Taesik, you go bring Mr. Park his drill present.”
“Yes, boss.”
Taesik nodded sharply and strode back toward the edge of the lake where they’d been earlier. Seunghyeok tilted his head, lit another cigarette, and drew in deep.
“Uh... huh...”
His limbs were free, but Mr. Park could only stare blankly as the cheek in front of him hollowed in and then settled back into place. He couldn’t tell whether “geezer about to die” had been a figure of speech or something he was about to experience for real.
But when he met the bored eyes through the rising smoke, he belatedly dropped to his knees in the snow. He slammed his forehead against the polished shoe and clutched at Seunghyeok’s pant leg. Seunghyeok narrowed his eyes.
“M-Manager...! Please, just this once, spare me. I’ll go to the chairman and explain everything. P-Please... I think the guys under me made a mistake while they were working. I really don’t know anythi-”
“Shh.”
Maybe he didn’t even realize the icy water seeping up from beneath the lake was soaking his pant hem. The middle-aged man was only desperate to insist on his innocence. The problem was, even his pleas didn’t add up.
Half listening, Seunghyeok exhaled smoke and stared up at the blue sky, unusually vivid today. Then he spotted the small hole in the ice ahead, not even a meter wide, and let out a short sigh.
“I told you to drill it neatly, you bastards.”
How many times had they done this, and they still couldn’t get better at making a hole in ice. He’d even bought the machine himself after seeing how easily fishermen did it, but the dumbasses always tried to brute-force it anyway.
“M-Manager Gu... no, Seunghyeok... I’ve been watching since you first came into the Gu family... I watched you grow up right next to the chairman...!”
The ridiculous form of address and the not-entirely-bad attempt at an emotional line snagged Seunghyeok’s attention. He rolled his stiff neck once and lowered his gaze. Mr. Park’s eyes, the whites flooded red from burst vessels, looked up at him.
The man looked less like a person than a slab of meat, and Seunghyeok’s brow creased on its own. Raising one eyebrow, he didn’t even bother putting in much strength as he freed the leg Mr. Park was clinging to, then shoved the man’s shoulder with his foot.
Mr. Park was shaking too hard to notice the subtle change in Seunghyeok’s expression. He scraped his hands across the snow, groping, and forced the words out.
“You can help me... at least you can. I’m really... really being wronged.”
Eyes full of despair now stared at empty air. Only now did he seem to understand that begging for mercy from a face as cold as carved stone was useless.
Seunghyeok made a small grunt and squatted in front of him.
“Mr. Park. Then why’d you go around doing things that could get you misunderstood?”
“S-Seunghyeok...”
Seunghyeok clicked his tongue and tapped ash down in front of the man’s eyes. Terrified pupils trembled, fixing past the drifting ash on Seunghyeok’s face.
“I don’t want to do this either, but Chairman Gu always makes me handle this crap.”
“Ghh... ngh...”
“If you’ve known him that long, you should know better than anyone. I can’t disobey Chairman Gu... or my brother.”
His eyes were sunk and wintry, but the corners of his well-shaped lips curved into a smile. At the mocking voice that slipped out, Mr. Park’s body went rigid and his gaze darted around in panic.
Seunghyeok held the cigarette between his lips and slid a hand into his inner jacket pocket. What he pulled out was a small Barbie doll toy with blond hair and a pink dress.
He dangled it in front of those bloodshot eyes, and the face that had already been pale enough to look inhuman started turning almost bluish.
“Let’s see... usually these dolls are hollow inside, but this one’s kind of heavy. Weird, isn’t it?”
“N-No... how did you...”
“Feels like there should be a few more boxes of these. Mr. Park, you know where they are?”
“I-I don’t! I really don’t know anything!”
Seunghyeok smiled thinly. The way the ruined face turned to pure shock was painfully transparent. Watching him drown in despair, stammering the same line over and over, Seunghyeok decided there was nothing else he’d get by asking. He planted both hands on his knees and stood.
“Manager Gu, wait, wai-”
“Enjoy your thirty-year friendship with the dead in the afterlife, Mr. Park.”
Seunghyeok grabbed the man by the hair and pinned his head in place. Then, before he could say another word, Seunghyeok ground the burning cigarette straight into the skin between his brows. Mr. Park’s eyes flew wide, like they were about to pop out.
“Uh... uh...”
The man’s cracked lips slowly parted, and a moan seeped out, something you’d expect in a zombie movie. Seunghyeok frowned at the way the flesh began to blister, but he didn’t loosen his grip until the ember finally died.
“Gaaahhh!”
The cigarette butt dropped onto the blood-streaked snow with a soft thud, and the scream hit a beat later, echoing across the white expanse. The brutes behind him rushed in and grabbed Mr. Park’s arms, holding him down as he convulsed in pain. Taesik, now close again, held out a handkerchief to Seunghyeok.
“Boss, I brought what you asked for.”
Seunghyeok turned his head. Behind Taesik, several men struggled under the weight of a boulder nearly half the size of an adult torso. Seunghyeok wiped the blood off his hand with the handkerchief and jerked his chin at Mr. Park.
“Tie him up. Loose, on purpose.”
“Yes, boss!”
After speaking, Seunghyeok scuffed his shoe across the white snow. The pale red stain spread like watercolor bleeding across paper. He swept his tongue along the inside of his cheek and looked around, then clicked his tongue at the men carrying the rock with trembling arms.
“Hey. You guys want to go for a swim too?”
“N-No, sir!”
“Then train harder.”
“Yes, sir!”
At the way they stared straight ahead, tense as boards, Seunghyeok shook his head. Then he looked over the snow, dirtied by scattered blood, a yellowish liquid he couldn’t identify, and mud smeared from shoe soles, and spoke to Taesik.
“When it’s done, bring water and clean everything up. Don’t forget.”
“Yes, boss. Are you heading home? Want me to send someone with you?”
“No. Tell them to gather some guys at Nexus.”
“The guys who can come right away tonight... at Nexus?”
Taesik, who’d been watching the crew work, lifted his head with a puzzled look. Seunghyeok frowned and swept his fallen hair back with one hand.
“I’m curious how special it is, if Chairman Gu kept it wrapped up that tight. Tell the manager to set it up as much as possible. Before I take the keys, I want to have a look.”
“U-Understood. Then we’ll finish up and take you there right away.”
As Seunghyeok nodded and turned away, a noisy jumble of sound spilled over his shoulder. Muffled moans like someone’s mouth was being covered, mixed with a barked threat telling him they’d end it quick, so stay still. Seunghyeok didn’t look back. He walked toward the car parked far off.
Not long after, a heavy splash rang out across the whitened lakeside. For a moment there was frantic sloshing, then even that soaked into the silence beneath the snow piled all around.
In the dead quiet where not even a breath could be heard, the only sound that insisted on existing was the crunch of snow under black dress shoes. Seunghyeok rubbed the stiff back of his neck and quickened his pace.
The rope linking the man’s leg to the heavy rock would loosen after a few panicked kicks and sink to the bottom. The brief, foolish hope that he might swim up and live would shatter the moment he met the thick sheet of ice sealing the surface.
Even if he pounded until his fists broke, it wouldn’t matter. Ice this solid was hard to crack even with a machine.
Only then would he realize it. That something had truly, catastrophically gone wrong. Humans only understand their mistakes after everything has already happened, after the moment can’t be taken back.
A faint, diluted sunlight filtered down from a sky heavy with the promise of snow. It settled on the thick snowpack and reflected dully.
A wind sharp enough to flay skin swept across Seunghyeok’s blank face, like a protest against what had just been done on this peaceful lakeside.
White breath burst apart in front of his lips, and every time the long hem of his coat swayed, the footprints behind him hardened.
Those hardened footprints followed after him like a brand.