Two weeks had passed since the bust. We were buried in paperwork: reports on capturing North Korean spies, Baekgom-pa bastards, and most importantly, the head of Baekgom-pa himself.
On top of that, there were all the other cases I'd worked on—violence in Itaewon, suspects mentioning a psychologist and church leader, Dr. Lee.
It was mind-numbing. We also had to account for every weapon we'd used. Detective Choi, still writing and groaning, sat right next to me.
When a female officer passed by, he called out,
"Officer Chang, could you make me a cup of coffee? Two sugars, please."
I stood up and waved at Officer Chang, signaling it was okay for her to ignore him.
"Hey, Sunho. Wanna go get some fresh air?" I asked.
"I've been waiting for you to say that, my friend!" He jumped up and followed me.
We headed to the coffee vending machine corner. A few guys were already there, smoking and drinking coffee.
Choi's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and froze for a second. I caught a glimpse: "Crazy Ex."
He answered immediately. "Yeah?" A long silence followed. "Okay. Let me know when, alright?" He hung up and sighed.
"What happened?" I asked.
"Just my ex. Sun-ah has a piano competition coming up." He forced a chuckle. "I need to cover the entry fee."
I could see the pain on his face.
"Hey, knight in shining armor," he grinned, dropping into an exaggerated beggar pose, "could you buy your poor partner a cup of coffee?"
"Why? Don't you have two hundred won?"
"Well… I have to save every last coin for the money I send home." He laughed, but there was shame behind it.
"No problem." I bought two cups from the vending machine and handed him one.
"You're my savior. Thank you, my friend." He cradled the paper cup with both hands.
"Ooh, it's warm." We both took a sip, feeling a little more human, then lit cigarettes.
"Man, this paperwork sucks. I wish someone would write it for me. And I still don't know how to phrase 'broken shotgun' in the official report," he grumbled.
"Then you should've used a baton like I did," I teased, sipping my coffee.
"The situation was dire. You know that," he whined.
"Can't help you there."
We headed back inside. The TV in the bullpen was blasting the news: "Baekgom-pa gang and North Korean spies captured in joint operation by Seoul Metropolitan Police and Northern Gyeonggi Police."
The whole station erupted in cheers. They were heroes. We all were.
As I sat down, the chief stormed in.
"Detective Kim, Detective Choi—my office. Now."
We looked at each other. Choi went pale. "He's gonna make me pay for the shotgun, isn't he?" he whispered like a ghost.
"Only one way to find out. Come on." I practically dragged him by the collar.
"Reporting for duty, Chief!" we both barked, saluting.
"At ease, detectives," he said in his usual strict tone. "Any idea why I called you in?"
Choi looked ready to faint.
"No idea, sir!" I answered for both of us.
The chief broke into a huge grin. "Congratulations, you idiots. You're both promoted!" He laughed like he'd just told the funniest joke in the world. "The brass loved the bust. Everyone involved is moving up. You two are now captains."
We stared at each other. Choi's face went from ghost-white to pure joy in half a second.
The chief pulled out the department credit card. "Take this. Go get wasted. Bring everyone who was on the operation. Drink as much as you want—on the house."
"Thank you, sir! We won't let you down!" I took the card.
We stumbled out of his office.
"Yes! Promotion!" Choi was practically dancing. "Captain Choi!" I stuck out my hand.
"Captain Kim!" He grabbed it and we shook like kids.
"With the extra pay, I won't be so broke all the time," he said, still grinning. "you'll be able to send more to Min-jae."
The mention of my son hit me like a punch. "I've never sent Min-jae a single won," I said quietly. "I don't even know where he is since my ex took him to the States."
"I'm sorry, man," Choi said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Let me go spread the good news."
He bolted toward the criminal division, waving the credit card like a battle flag.
"Captain Choi reporting! Clear orders to get absolutely hammered tonight, you bastards!"
Dead silence for two seconds—then the entire room exploded.
"Finish the damn reports first, then we get wasted!" Choi shouted, just as hyped as the rest.
Later that night, twenty-five officers and detectives from the division crammed into our usual pojangmacha, "Blue City."
The orange vinyl tent glowed like a lone lantern in the humid night. Inside, the ajumma flipped squid on the grill with a cigarette dangling from her lip, the tiny corner TV blared the news, and a drunk patrol sergeant was lecturing his junior about how his cousin got laid off in '97 and how lucky they were to have police jobs. Empty soju bottles rolled across every table. The narcotics team in the corner was already arguing over whose turn it was to pay.
"Sajang-nim! We're here!" Choi bellowed as we poured in.
"Aigoo, so many people! How am I supposed to serve you all at once?" the owner teased.
"Good evening, sajang-nim. One odeng-tang and two kimchi-jeon per table, please," I ordered for the group.
"Got it. Grab the empty tables."
We spread out across four tables. The air was warm, thick with laughter and cigarette smoke.
She counted and yelled toward the back, "Four odeng-tang, eight kimchi-jeon!"
Captain Choi hauled in a whole crate of soju bottles. "Tonight we don't stop until this is empty," he declared, grinning ear to ear. "Tastes much sweeter when I'm not paying."
When the food arrived, Choi stood up with a full glass.
"Listen up, you ugly bastards!" he roared. Someone flicked a bottle cap at him; everyone cracked up.
"Two weeks ago we took four hundred kilos of North Korean ice off these streets.
Tonight we officially put Baekgom-pa and those North Korean spies behind bars.
Tonight we proved the Yongsan Violent Crimes Division is still the meanest pack of dogs in Seoul!"
His tone turned serious. "But it wasn't without cost. Two of our brothers are still fighting for their lives in the hospital. Tonight we drink to them, to the ones who couldn't be here, and to our victory!"
He raised his glass high.
"Geonbae!"
"Geonbae!" Glasses clinked, soju went down.
Choi, still standing, refilled and winked at me.
"Oh one more thing, for Captain Kim, the knight in shining armor who saved a female prosecutor!"
Another roar. "Geonbae!"
He came over, bottle in hand, still grinning like an idiot.
"Here's to the hero." He filled my glass almost to the brim. "I'll fill yours as much as I like you, my friend."
He handed me the bottle. "Your turn."
I filled his until it was about to spill over.
He laughed, knowing exactly what was coming.
"Geonbae!"
We slammed them back.
"Captain Kim! Someone's looking for you!" an officer shouted.
I turned—and there she was. Prosecutor Kang. Out of her usual black suit and thick coat, wearing a simple white knitted sweater, khaki linen pants, and a beige trench coat. She looked… human.
"I see you brought your fan club!" Choi whispered, then scampered off. "I'll give you two some space!"
She approached our table, still wearing that icy prosecutor face, like she was about to scold someone.
"You're a hard man to reach, Captain Kim. "
I was wondering how the hell she'd found us.
I poured her a glass. "Here you go, Prosecutor Kang."
"Thank you. By the way, congratulation for your promotion." She raised it and we drank.
"By the way… how did you know we were here?"
"I assumed this was your usual spot after I got the celebration request from your department." A tiny smile.
"So what brings you all the way here?"
"Just to say thank you again—for the other night."
"No need. Just doing my job," I mumbled, suddenly awkward.
She glanced at her golden wristwatch and looked surprised. "I have to go." She placed her name card on the table. "Call me if you ever need a warrant rushed."
She turned to leave, then sat back down abruptly.
"Wait. I almost forgot the most important thing." Her voice dropped. "Do not touch Dr. Lee. She is a danger you don't want to face."
"How did you—?"
"When I submitted your report about the Itaewon suspects mentioning her, my superior shredded it on the spot." Disgust flashed across her face. "She has connections—high ones. I've seen superiors invite her to private meetings. I watched her put her hand on the head of the Baekgom-pa boss—angry, resisting one second, completely calm and empty the next. When the prosecutor asked questions after that, the man confessed everything."
Fear and confusion filled her eyes. her hands trembles.
She stood up again. This time for good.
I watched her disappear into the night, hoping the next time I saw her it wouldn't be over another case file.