CHAPTER 2: OFFICER LEE IL-SUNG

August 12th, 2020

Gi-hun gulped as his eyes roved over the sign for an eleventh time:

Seoul Gangbuk Police Station

He wondered whether he was even allowed back at that place. Last time, he'd been dismissed as a lunatic. But hopefully, asking someone to help him find the smart girl he'd taken under his wing would be a more realistic request to them.

Kang Sae-byeok. He didn't know much about her, but he did know she had a brother in an orphanage and a mother stuck in the North. He wondered why she didn't seem to benefit from what the South's government provided them. He knew that defectors were sent to special schools and even had a three-month course so that they'd learn to adjust to their way of life. But in the end, it wasn't enough, or else she wouldn't have joined the games. It broke his heart to know that a girl so young had had to toughen up so quickly.

Brushing his hair back, he gripped the handle.

The first thing that happened as he stepped inside was the desk officer's eyes widening, trailing up to Gi-hun's hair. Gi-hun chuckled, for it probably wasn't every day that a man with bright red highlights visited the station.

The previous day, Gi-hun had decided it was time for a change. So, he walked into the barber nearest his house and sat down for a haircut. A picture had caught his eye as he sat down. It was an American girl, perhaps a little older than twenty, who had shocking red hair. Immediately, he'd asked for hair like hers, but with a mixture of his old color (after all, he needed to keep something from before). When the hairdresser had explained to him what highlights were, he grinned and said he'd get those.

Now, his hair was a nice mix of red and black. Eomma had shrieked when he'd come home that night, but she hadn't chastised him like he thought she would. Later, she'd complimented his new hair, ruffling it affectionately before turning out the lights.

"Good morning," Gi-hun greeted, adjusting his cap. "Uh, I need to find someone." His chest went cold as he recognized the officer who'd thrown him out two months ago. The officer's eyebrows furrowed as Gi-hun walked closer to the desk.

"I know you, you're the crazy guy who almost made me lose my job."

Gi-hun bowed his head slightly.

"I'm sorry about that. It wasn't my intention."

"So? Did you get help?" the officer asked. "Have you stopped getting those visions?"

For a brief moment, Gi-hun wanted to take that bastard by the collar, pull him over that desk, and shake him till a tooth fell out. Just hearing his experiences being dismissed as visions angered him so much, it was overflowing. People had died, and that man dared call those lost lives a figment of his imagination?

"They weren't visions! They were real!" Gi-hun yelled before he could stop himself.

The officer put his head in his hands.

"Sir, please, if you've come here to try and prove yourself again—"

"No," Gi-hun cut in, still angry but forcing himself to be calm. His outburst, while cathartic, would not help if he wanted someone to help him find Sae-byeok. "I really need to find someone."

Sighing, the officer beckoned him closer.

"Who are you looking for?"

"A girl named Kang Sae-byeok. She's a defector from the North."

A look of recognition flitted across the officer's face.

"Kang Sae-byeok? I think I've heard her name before." The officer stood up and walked over to the filing cabinet at the back of the small room. "I believe her assigned officer works at this station."

"Who was it? Do you have a name?"

"Ah! I found him. Senior Policeman Lee Il-sung."

This was it. This was Gi-hun's key.

"Can you get me in contact with him?"

The furrowed eyebrows returned.

"And why do you want this information?"

Gi-hun hadn't been prepared for that question. Gah! he thought. Sang-woo was much better at this lying business than him. Even if he wanted to, he wouldn't be able to spin a believable story.

"There's a quote from a show I saw once."

Gi-hun turned to Chan-yeol, sipping his tea.

"What?"

"Sherlock Holmes says lies have too much detail."

Park Chan-yeol had been his long-standing employee at his failed chicken business. He often watched TV and told Gi-hun everything about what he saw when coming to work each morning. One such thing was about a show called Sherlock, which was apparently a modernized version of the famous books from way back then. The quote he was recalling came from that same program. Gi-hun's mouth stretched into a grin as he eyed the officer.

"I'm…I'm her friend." He had been about to say "father," but he remembered at the last second that her father was dead.

Gi-hun shifted in his seat as he stared at the glowing piggy bank. He was tired, so tired. But at the same time, he couldn't sleep. The thug's gang was not too far, and if any of Gi-hun's team let down their guard, all hell would break loose. Hence, he went on the lookout for the night. He was terrified of potentially dozing off, so he figured his fear would keep him awake.

Grabbing a pillow, he shifted again so his back would be supported by the soft material. The sting of the little cuts on his arms and face were nothing compared to the overwhelming grief he felt. The husband and wife. The glassmaker. The math teacher.

Oh Il-nam.

So many names, so many faces that'd never see the light again.

He jumped when he heard a rustling of sheets from his side of the room, and he held up his knife in case it was one of the gang people. But upon looking up, he sighed in relief as it was only Sae-byeok who stood over him.

"Oh, it's you." He lowered his knife and scooched over so she'd have room to sit. "You couldn't sleep either?"

Sae-byeok nodded. In a moment of vulnerability, she shifted closer to Gi-hun so that their elbows were touching. This didn't go unnoticed by Gi-hun, who smiled slightly. It seemed she was finally starting to trust him.

"What brought you here, Sae-byeok?"

He hadn't meant for the question to slip out, but it did nonetheless. As for Sae-byeok, she turned her head, moving away from him.

"Why do you want to know?" she said slowly, testing the waters.

"You're so young," said Gi-hun, deciding to be honest. "Someone as young as you shouldn't be stuck in this dump. You should be hanging out with friends, studying for your exams, and breaking boys' hearts because you're too smart for them."

Sae-byeok shook her head, trying to keep from smiling. In all her life, no stranger had so blatantly praised her.

"I have no time for those things." Looking directly at Gi-hun, she revealed, "My brother's in a children's home. My father is dead. And my mother is stuck on the other side of the border."

If Gi-hun's old self had been told he would be working with a pickpocket to survive deadly children's games, he would've been incredulous. But now, all he could feel was warmth and respect for the girl beside him. She couldn't have been older than seventeen, and yet she was already so mature.

Right then, as he recalled this memory, he realized Sae-byeok was a much better person than him. He could've never been so devoted to his family at that age. He'd been too busy slacking off, trying to get Sang-woo into smoking and finding dates for himself. Meanwhile, Sae-byeok was trying to find her way in an environment completely foreign and scary to her. It was probably why she didn't trust anyone.

He needed to find her.

"Friend?" questioned the officer.

"I don't have any ill intentions."

For a long time, the officer looked at Gi-hun, looking like he was trying to read the latter's intentions despite his assurance. Finally, he let out a breath and jotted down a number, hastily thrusting the paper into Gi-hun's outstretched hand and saying, "This is Officer Lee's number."

Gi-hun bowed, saying, "Thank you so much. You don't know how happy you've made me."

And he bounded out of the station with a spring in his step.

Later that night, after Gi-hun had washed the dinner dishes, he stepped outside, sitting on the doorstep with his cell phone in one hand. In the other, there was the number the officer had provided him. Letting out a breath, he unlocked his phone and punched the numbers in, hitting the call button and putting it on speaker.

The first time, there wasn't an answer. But Gi-hun was undeterred, swiping to his recent calls and hitting the number. Once again, he put the phone on speaker, hoping this time Officer Lee would answer. When he didn't answer for a second time, Gi-hun frustratedly brushed his hair back, and his shaky thumb smashed the number again on his recent calls.

Unsurprisingly, there wasn't an answer. It took all of Gi-hun's willpower to not scream.

August 13th, 2020

"Eomma, I'm going out today. There are some errands I need to run and I won't be back till dinner."

Eomma whirled around to face him, her grip on her cane tightening ever so slightly. After she had been discharged, her walking had been permanently damaged, so the hospital had issued her a cane so she'd be able to get around faster. Seeing that stick always made Gi-hun feel wretched guilt, for he knew it was his fault she was this way. It was his fault that she had to get treatment in the first place.

"Again? Gi-hun ah, if you keep on going out, you won't recover quickly."

"But Eomma, you aren't well either," said Gi-hun with a warm smile. "You need to recover, too."

Eomma's subsequent look was unreadable.

"Look…I don't know where all this is coming from, but you're worrying me."

Gi-hun cocked his head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"All this," she repeated, gesturing to the cleanliness of the small house, to the washed dishes, to the pile of opened bills on Gi-hun's new table. "Of course it is very good that you don't gamble anymore. I prayed so many times for that filthy habit to go away. But I'm still your mother. I can tell something happened."

"Oh, it's nothing!" Gi-hun brushed off, grinning widely. "I just realized the error of my ways. Seeing Ga-yeong on her birthday…it made me want to do better. She deserves a good dad, and that's what I'm trying to be."

Eomma frowned, hobbling over to where Gi-hun was standing. Placing a withered hand on his forearm, she murmured, "I love you. No matter what you've done, no matter what mistakes you've made. You came out of me." Raising that hand to his cheek, she looked up at him and said, "I'm proud of you."

Hearing that simple praise nearly drove Gi-hun to tears. It had been so long since his mother had told him she was proud of him. The last time she'd said this was when he had become a father and she had met Ga-yeong for the first time. She had been so proud to be a grandmother that she couldn't even find fault with the fact Gi-hun had just lost his job.

"Thanks, Eomma," said Gi-hun, keeping his voice relatively normal. Giving her a kiss on the cheek, he added, "I'll be going now. See you soon!"

Then, he opened the door and left.

Since he had so much money, he was looking for a new apartment for himself and another one for his mother. Wherever he decided to live, he knew he needed Eomma close to him. It was time that he started to be a good son and take care of her in her old age. To this day, Eomma was still in the dark as to how Gi-hun could suddenly afford health insurance again. And it was better this way, to let her believe her son hadn't gotten his money at the expense of innocent lives.

He decided to try calling Sae-byeok's officer again when he hopped on a metro going to Hannam-dong. He'd be looking at a house he'd found on a rental site that had enough room for him, Ga-yeong, and possibly two more. While he'd have one room and Ga-yeong would have another, he hoped that he'd also be able to accommodate Sae-byeok and her brother while he looked for their mother.

As if the Buddha himself had bestowed his grace on Gi-hun, Officer Lee finally picked up.

"Who are you, and why do you keep on calling me? This is the fourth time your number has appeared."

"Good morning," said Gi-hun. "I'm calling because I want to know if you've talked to Kang Sae-byeok recently. She's a good friend of mine, but it seems she's disappeared from my radar."

Silence.

"Who gave you my number?"

"An officer at your station. He said you were Sae-byeok's assigned officer."

Surprisingly, a laugh was barked from the other line. It made Gi-hun feel a strange sort of dread.

"Oh, did he? I haven't seen that brat for months! She got away from me—but I managed to get her brother in an orphanage."

"What?" Gi-hun hissed. "And don't call her a brat! She's anything but a brat!"

"I don't know where she is, pure and simple," sighed the officer. "Your guess as to where she is is as good as mine. I'm sorry I can't help."

But Gi-hun could tell the man wasn't really sorry. It only made him more incensed.

"Fine, then," Gi-hun seethed. "I'll find her myself, and mark my words, I will."

And with that, Gi-hun hung up, groaning as he'd been punted back into square one.

As always, reviews are appreciated! What do you think?

KOREAN USED IN THIS CHAPTER

eomma - mom/mommy

ah - an affectionate term placed at the end of a name to indicate familiarity/consider someone of similar status; commonly used by parents for their children