The moment the doorbell rang, Jeong Tae-eui hesitated. Beans slipped from the chopsticks in his hand, falling and rolling away. It took only a few seconds for the black beans to leave the plate and stop trailing sticky marks, but in that brief time, the doorbell rang again.
Jeong Tae-eui tapped the table with the tip of a comb and his chopsticks, casting a nervous glance toward the front door. He'd had a bad feeling ever since he heard faint footsteps ascending the stairs.
No—more precisely, his knees had been throbbing in the early morning rain, and he'd felt uneasy from the moment he woke. His knees always ached in bad weather, but the pain was particularly sharp today. That was never a good sign.
He had just prepared a simple breakfast and poured a couple of drinks, his mood as bleak as the drizzling sky outside, when the sound of footsteps reached him from the corridor.
In this rundown tenement building, over twenty years old, even a cat's footsteps echoed all the way up to the rooftop floor—so it was impossible not to notice when someone entered.
On the third floor, just below the rooftop, Jeong Tae-eui had returned home at this ambiguous hour, slightly past 7 a.m., and from the moment he heard someone approaching the stairs, a dark premonition settled in his chest.
When the doorbell rang, that unease took firm shape.
Few people ever came to the house. His older brother—his only housemate—had been missing for four days and never used the doorbell anyway, since he had a key.
The presence outside the door felt solid and heavy. The bell rang again while Tae-eui hesitated. Then came knocking—deliberate, echoing—and more footsteps. The sound was sharp, heavy. It reminded him of military boots.
As soon as that image entered his mind, his anxiety deepened. The bell rang three or four more times in quick succession. He hadn't even opened the rice wine yet, but already he'd lost his appetite. He laid down his chopsticks.
The person outside, bringing with them this ominous air, showed no intention of leaving. Someone came to mind—someone who never knocked, never called out, only pressed the doorbell insistently. The thought weighed on him.
"..."
Exactly on the twelfth ring of the bell, Jeong Tae-eui removed his coat and opened the door. The man standing outside stepped back as the door swung open. His shoes—those that had made the angular, echoing sound—were spotless military boots.
Above them, a pristine black uniform clung to his frame, perfectly straight and undisturbed, as if measured with a ruler. Technically, it was more of a formal uniform than a military one—but the place this man came from wasn't far removed from the military.
The small silver badge on his collar seemed particularly detestable. It wasn't just the symbol itself—many people in the world would balk at wearing it—but rather what it meant when this man arrived wearing that badge.
Whenever this man came to Tae-eui's home in uniform, it never heralded anything good. This was the third or fourth such visit, and not once had it ended well.
The man removed his black gloves and then his matching black hat. When he met Jeong Tae-eui's eyes, he offered a soft smile.
"It's been a while. Nothing too eventful, I hope?"
It had been nearly three years since they last met. And in that time, there had been no shortage of "eventful" things.
Tae-eui had nearly died while clearing a land mine. He'd come close again during a bad reaction to surgery. He was discharged before even completing half of his required examinations.
He studied the man's face with a complicated expression before letting out a long sigh.
"I don't know if there's anything special going on with me that my uncle doesn't already know about. But if my uncle came all the way here at this hour, unannounced… Come in."
Somehow, it felt ominous.
It wasn't that he disliked the man—he just felt uneasy whenever he appeared like this. Still, he figured the visit was likely related to his brother. The man's presence had nothing to do with Tae-eui's own misfortunes… or so he told himself.
Regardless, he stepped aside with the feeling of letting in a plague god. The man's eyes curved with gentle amusement at Tae-eui's expression, though there was no malice in them. As Tae-eui closed the door behind him, he asked,
"When did you arrive?"
"Two hours ago. Straight from the airport."
"Right… But you shouldn't have come without contacting me. My brother isn't here."