Descent of the Demon Master-Chapter 1411. Closure (1)

Yi Jong-Wuk sighed under his breath.

“Sir, let me remind you again that what you’re asking me to do is not something I can help you with.”

—But you are the only one on our side who can do this.

“Sir, it’s not the case of me being the only one, but more like even I can’t do this. I’ll be honest, sir. How do you expect me to bring this up with those people? It’s not like I’m their long-time friend or something.”

—But you must do it for us.

Yi Jong-Wuk’s expression crumpled as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. What was this? Was he speaking to a bloody parrot or something?

Throwing a tantrum like an obstinate kid might win you some battles, but more often than not, it wouldn’t! What the person on the phone “asked” Yi Jong-Wuk to do definitely qualified as the latter case, yet this bloody guy didn’t seem to get that.

“Besides, sir? Don’t you think someone like me getting this assignment is against protocol? I’m just a team leader, after all.”

—The director of the NIS got fired, so who cares if a mere team leader got this assignment?

“What about the vice directors, then? Are they doing nothing but sucking on their fingers in their fancy offices? Worse still, I’m a part of the overseas department, sir, not domestic.”

—Now is not the time to split hairs like that, Mister Yi! Don’t you understand why I’m pleading with you like this? Look, I also don’t want to do this, but we don’t have any other avenue of communication besides you, okay? If I could have resolved this myself, I would have! Instead of begging a fresh-faced junior like you!

“Hah...”

Yi Jong-Wuk could feel an onset of migraine and shook his head.

“Sir, I’m on the road at the moment.”

—What? Are you the only person still living in the eighties? Or is your car over twenty years old or something? Don’t you have Bluetooth? How can you use driving as an excuse to stop talking to me?

“No, that’s not it, sir. I can’t focus on driving while talking to you. Will you take the responsibility if I crash?”

—Whatever, Mister Yi. In any case, I’m not going to argue this with you.

But he had already been arguing with Yi Jong-Wuk about this, though?!

—Speak to Mister Kang Jin-Ho one more time. Look, Mister Yi. Our higher-ups are worried out of their minds, okay? And the election is just around the corner, too. You know as well as I do that if another bombshell goes off now, no one will be able to fix that.

“What does it matter if the higher-ups win or lose the damn election, sir? And since when did we become the administration’s ass-wipers? Shouldn’t our job be the same as always, regardless of who’s in charge?”

—Don’t give me that idealist talking point, Mister Yi! Besides, do you think I’m doing this because of some goddamn election? Don’t you know the higher-ups will resort to some other stupid bullsh*t if they think they’ll lose?!

“...I’ll speak to you again later, sir.”

—Please. I’ll leave it to you.

Yi Jong-Wuk tapped the red phone button on the steering wheel of his car to end the call.

Goddamn it! You think I’m your messenger boy?

Did these people forget already that they had imprisoned him and almost drove him to the brink of insanity not too long ago? So how could they act as if Yi Jong-Wuk was their only ray of hope here?

Even if this chessboard’s layout changed every time one blinked their eyes, shouldn’t a man have some humility? A sense of shame, at least?

...Urgh. Then again, they wouldn’t have climbed so high up the food chain if they knew what shame was.

Only the brazen had the chance of succeeding in this world, after all.

Yi Jong-Wuk’s gaze soon locked on the large apartment-like building in the distance.

Yeah, things have gotten a lot more civilized these days.

Who would look at that building and see a prison meant for the suspects awaiting their trials? The interior fittings might be one thing, but as far as the exterior was concerned, it looked almost like one of those fancy new apartment buildings.

That made sense, though, considering one shouldn’t deliberately build a drab-looking structure, even if its purpose was to serve as a prison.

Yi Jong-Wuk presented his ID to the guards manning the front gate, then parked his car in the visitors’ parking lot. After climbing outside his ride, he scanned his new surroundings before discovering a smoking area some distance away. He trudged over there and lit up a cigarette.

He knew he should quit, but things had been far too hectic recently. The increase in the stress level coincided with the increased number of cigarettes he was buying lately.

Even though I almost never smoked...

Yi Jong-Wuk turned his head and studied the massive prison behind him while silently sucking on his cigarette.

Wasn’t it a little ironic? To think that such a... nice-looking building contained all kinds of pain and horror a man could imagine!

Yi Jong-Wuk took three more drags of the cigarette before tossing it into the ashtray, then headed to the prison entrance as a lengthy sigh left his lips.

***

“Mister Yi? Please sit here.”

Yi Jong-Wuk bowed slightly. “Oh. Thank you.”

“Ehh, well... This is a bit...”

The warden grimaced while subtly pushing his glasses up his nose.

“I’m sure you already know that we don’t allow visitors to speak to inmates outside of the visiting area. What happens here must stay between us.”

“Of course. You don’t have to worry about that.”

The warden cautiously studied Yi Jong-Wuk’s mood. As for Yi Jong-Wuk, he did his absolute best to not show his discomfort on his face.

The warden’s flabbergasted response made sense, of course. Someone far, far higher up the food chain than he could imagine must’ve called him earlier, but the person arriving for the “interview” turned out to be some mere brat instead, after all!

“So, you’re from the NIS...?”

“Ah, that... Yes, I am.”

Now why did they have to go and reveal that information? Yi Jong-Wuk couldn’t understand why the people above him were so careless about things like this.

The warden’s expression stiffened after getting his confirmation.

Yi Jong-Wuk inwardly tutted at that. This always happened with older folks.

If he had been talking to a regular prison guard and not the warden, they wouldn’t have reacted like this. The power contained within the name “NIS” held a larger sway over the older generation than younger generations, after all.

Of course, the older generation wasn’t responding to the name of the NIS but to the fear roused by the memories of its much-dreaded predecessor, the Agency for National Security Planning.

Yi Jong-Wuk consciously ignored the warden’s reaction. He didn’t have the mental leeway to deal with this, too. The problems he already faced were already trying to choke the life out of him, anyway!

The warden cautiously asked, “What brings an agent of the NIS to...”

“Warden, sir.”

“Y-yes? Ah, yes?”

“I’m here on official business.”

The warden nodded after figuring out the hidden meaning of Stop trying to get involved in my business in Yi Jong-Wuk’s curt reply.

“Please wait here, sir. I’ll bring the inmate.”

“I see. I’ll do that.”

The warden briefly bowed and hurriedly left the office. Yi Jong-Wuk made himself comfortable on one of the couches and silently scanned the sparse furnishing around him.

How... desolate.

Was it because this place lacked the sort of furniture one might expect? No, rather than desolate, maybe the more correct term would be “vacant.”

This place would score zero points as a living space, but might be as close to perfection as a prison. Only those who had lost something, whatever that was, got thrown in here, after all.

Yi Jong-Wuk didn’t have to wait long before the door opened again. And an old man with a familiar face was ushered inside.

This old man’s eyes were hollow, while his skin was coarse. His hair was an unkempt mess, while his glasses had seen better days.

Yi Jong-Wuk got up and greeted the old man.

“It’s been a while, sir.”

The old man lifelessly raised his head to look into Yi Jong-Wuk’s eyes.

Yi Jong-Wuk reflexively clenched his fists just then. When the old man’s half-closed eyes locked on him, an inexplicable chill ran down his spine. Even though he hadn’t spotted hints of madness or wrath in those eyes!

“...Please, take a seat, Prime Minister Kim.”

The old man, Kim Myeong-Chan, wordlessly stared at Yi Jong-Wuk before sitting on the couch facing the younger man. Yi Jong-Wuk opened his bag to take out a packet of cigarettes and a tumbler before putting them on the coffee table between them.

Kim Myeong-Chan stared at the tumbler before finally breaking his silence. “What’s this?”

“It’s coffee, sir. I bought some from a cafe nearby.”

A smirk formed on Kim Myeong-Chan’s lips. “Is it laced with some kind of truth serum?”

“No, sir. I wouldn’t do something so disrespectful to you. And I don’t have the confidence to deal with the consequences, too. Most or all...”

Yi Jong-Wuk stared intently at Kim Myeong-Chan.

“What’s the point of using something like a truth serum on you, sir?”

“Indeed... It’s not like you’re looking for information, anyway.”

Kim Myeong-Chan unhesitantly reached for the tumbler. He took its lid off, causing the coffee’s fragrant aroma to fill the office.

However, after taking a sip, Kim Myeong-Chan frowned slightly. “It’s bitter.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I should’ve added a bit of syrup or something.”

“This might not be how I drink my coffee, but I should still thank you. However, I have to say, why do people drink bitter coffee? When it should be subtly sweet?”

Kim Myeong-Chan scanned the warden’s office before getting up with a grunt. He picked up several sugar sticks resting near the office’s water cooler before dumping their sweet contents into the coffee.

“Mm... Now that’s much better.”

After putting the tumbler down, Kim Myeong-Chan picked up the cigarette packet next. He mouthed a cigarette and leisurely lit it up.

“Fuu-woo...”

He dragged in two more deep puffs of the cigarette, then shifted his gaze over to Yi Jong-Wuk.

“So? Why are you here, Mister Yi?”

“I thought I should pay you a visit, sir.”

“Really? Why? You wanted to see what a beaten-up dog looked like? And to spit on it? Now that’s a horrible hobby, isn’t it?”

Yi Jong-Wuk sighed softly under his breath. His eyes, now filled with sympathy, studied Kim Myeong-Chan’s expression. It seemed his gaze had gotten on Kim Myeong-Chan’s nerves, however, as the older man tutted away softly.

“No need to look at me like that, Mister Yi. I used to frequent jails as if they were my bedroom back in the day, after all. Having said that, things have gotten so much cushier these days, no? Nice facilities, and it’s warm inside, too. Back in my day, it could get so cold inside prisons that I even thought about chopping my own fingers and legs off to stop them from shivering.”

A bitter smirk now spread on Kim Myeong-Chan’s face.

“But it’s like I’m in a hotel or something. So yes, my stay has been pretty comfortable so far.”

“Physically, yes.”

“...”

“However, your mind must be in the pits of hell.”

Kim Myeong-Chan held Yi Jong-Wuk’s gaze for a while, then calmly asked, “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to ask you a question, sir.”

The question might be the same, but the reply had changed now.

Kim Myeong-Chan nodded while reclining against the couch. He filled his lungs with the cigarette smoke again before leisurely exhaling the unhealthy gas back into the office.

“Sure. Go ahead and ask. I don’t have a reason to refuse you, anyway.”

Yi Jong-Wuk hesitated slightly before biting his lip. “Sir, why... Why did you do it?”

“...”

“Why?”

Kim Myeong-Chan remained reclining in silence.

Yi Jong-Wuk’s gaze gradually turned into a glare, and eventually, he yelled at the silent older man.

“I have given you several warnings, haven’t I?! I told you everything would crumble if you insist on this path, sir! And you said you understood, that you’d find a different solution!”

Yi Jong-Wuk’s voice grew harsher, more hoarse.

“You’re the Prime Minister of this country! How could you be so rash?! None of this would have happened if you had stopped when I told you!”

Kim Myeong-Chan still didn’t respond and merely stared back at Yi Jong-Wuk. Unlike the younger man and his reddened face, the former Prime Minister was the very picture of composure and leisure.

“Sir, I used to respect you.”

“...”

“And that’s why I just can’t understand you! Why? Why did you make that decision? I... I just don’t get it, sir.”

“Yi-gun.”[1]

Kim Myeong-Chan called out to Yi Jong-Wuk while smiling gently. He only used the honorific “-gun” when discussing something important and personal with Yi Jong-Wuk.

“You said you used to respect me.”

“Yes... I have.”

“And why did you respect me?”

“...?”

Kim Myeong-Chan asked, as if something amused him.

“Because I fought for democracy?”

“...”

“If not that, because I was the Prime Minister of this country? Or because I never gave up fighting against the dictatorship even after going through all those tortures? If none of the above, then was it because I never gave up on my ideals?”

“I...”

“Look, Yi-gun. Why do you pretend to not understand the truth about me?”

Kim Myeong-Chan smiled gently again.

“Everything I’ve achieved was only possible because I never gave up.”

Yi Jong-Wuk couldn’t say anything to that and just chewed on his lips.

“Yes, had I stopped when you told me to stop, this catastrophe wouldn’t have unfolded. Unfortunately, I’m the type of idiot who doesn’t know when or how to give up. If I could have done so, I’d have given up a long time ago. There can be only two endings for someone like me, Yi-gun. One, not giving up until achieving success. Or not giving up and falling to the pits of hell.”

“Prime... Minister...”

Kim Myeong-Chan leisurely sucked on the cigarette.

“Most of the time, you’ll end up in hell. But I got lucky until now. Think back to all those folks who died in the dictatorship era. Do you honestly think I was the best of the lot? Of course not. Some of those fighters were incomparably better than me. But me? I only survived because I was a bit more capable of reading the room and not as hardcore as everybody else. A little like a cockroach, you could say.”

“...”

“Look, Yi-gun.”

A visible hint of remorse suddenly filled Kim Myeong-Chan’s face.

“I’m not worthy of anyone’s respect.”

“...”

“Yes, I’m not worthy at all.”

Kim Myeong-Chan muttered wryly, his forlorn gaze now drifting toward the office ceiling.

Yi Jong-Wuk reflexively squeezed his eyes shut just then.

How... How could Kim Myeong-Chan be so composed? When he shouldn’t be?

But this sight finally confirmed the truth for Yi Jong-Wuk. Now he knew that Kim Myeong-Chan would never make his comeback.

A giant of an era who had left his mark in this country’s history was steadily crumbling down in this prison.

1. “-gun” in Korean, pronounced as “goon”, is a bound noun used to refer to or address a male friend or someone who is younger in a friendly manner. ☜