Winter Season - Chapter 1

A branch, unable to bear the weight of the snow, snapped off with a sharp sound and fell. At the same time, a wail, similar to Jin Seung’s, echoed from afar.

“Boss, everything’s ready,”
said a man, who was standing under the bare trees covered in pure white snow, as he lazily smoked a cigarette. He kicked the drum in front of him, causing embers from the orange flames to flare up from the log, radiating heat.

“Guys, put this out. The snow’s all going to melt.”

“Yes, sir!”

At the man’s words, the men standing behind him quickly began to move. He carelessly dropped the nearly finished cigarette into the snow and walked towards the center where people had gathered. The dark red cigarette butt smoldered next to the footprint left by his shoe.

All around, it was a vast expanse of snow. Every view that met his eyes was pure white. It was hard to believe that the quiet snow-covered field was actually a frozen lake. Seung-hyuk tapped the ground with the toe of his shoe, as if to check its solidity. Taesik, who was following behind, hurriedly tried to stop him, his face pale with alarm.

“Ah, boss…! The ice might break!”

“Don’t be so dramatic. If the ice were weak enough to break from this, the guys wouldn’t have had to work so hard.”

Seung-hyuk jerked his chin towards the men gathered ahead, who were holding a large drill, and shoved his hands into his coat pockets. The cold air was seeping in through his collar—it was a brutally cold day.
The thought of finishing quickly and getting back to the car made Seung-hyuk quicken his pace. With each step, the snow beneath his shoes crunched and compacted.

Hearing the approaching footsteps, a man tied to a chair lifted his head. He must have been over sixty. The man’s lips were cracked and bleeding, and dried blood clung to a torn spot near his forehead. His face was so swollen, likely from a broken nose, that Seung-hyuk grimaced without realizing it.

“Jeez…”

The man’s eyes, half unfocused and struggling to fix on anything, slowly traveled up from Seung-hyuk’s black shoes to his perfectly pressed dress pants, and finally to the long hem of his coat.

When his fearful gaze traveled past the red floral pattern on the shirt and finally reached the expressionless face, he recoiled in terror, trembling as if he had seen the Grim Reaper himself.

“Gu, Manager Gu…?”

His arms and legs were bound to a crude wooden chair, so his movements were quickly restrained. However, his frantic struggle caused the smell of blood to once again fill the air. The furrow in Seung-hyuk’s brow deepened.

“Wait, wait…! Just listen to me for a moment. The chairman—he must have misunderstood something!”
The man looked up at Seung-hyuk with a desperate expression, but Seung-hyuk, as if annoyed, casually rubbed his finger along the edge of his ear.

“Ah, the excuses of old men are never original,”

he said, his face devoid of emotion. His gaze was cold, lacking any warmth, but to the helplessly bound Director Park, it was his last lifeline. The man tried to kneel in desperation, but all it did was cause more blood to seep from his wounds. The thickening scent of blood made Seung-hyuk grimace again as he leaned back.

“Oh, come on, sir… Just stay still, will you? The smell of blood is getting stronger.”

Seung-hyuk lazily kicked some snow from the ground, gathering it with his foot, and then casually tossed it toward the chair where the man was bound. The snow, which had been stained a deep red with blood, was now covered with a layer of fresh, finely crushed ice that scattered like snowflakes.

“Please, could you speak to the chairman for me, just once…? You know well how long I’ve worked with Taesung! It’s been 30 years since the chairman started, for crying out loud. There’s no way I would’ve done such a thing just for money. Someone must have stirred up trouble in the middle…!”

Desperate words tumbled out from between his lips, now blue from the cold and fear. Seung-hyuk looked down at the man with a feigned expression of pity, then flicked his finger toward the large man standing to the side.

“Hey, come here.”

The man, despite his bulky frame, clasped his hands together politely and quickly took a step forward. Seung-hyuk clicked his tongue in disapproval, then, without hesitation, slapped the back of the man’s head. The sharp sound echoed across the frozen lakeside.

“Listen, you brats. 30 years ago, when this man was starting out, you were just learning to walk, holding your mom’s hand. Haven’t you ever heard of respecting your elders? Why are you treating an old man who’s about to die so harshly?”

“S-Sorry!”

“Untie him, quickly.”

The large man, who had staggered after being hit, quickly regained his composure and hurried over to Director Park, who was tied to the chair. When he saw the sharp jackknife pulled from the man’s pocket, Park tensed up, but the well-sharpened blade was used only to cut through the cable ties binding his wrists and ankles before it was swiftly sheathed again.

“Taesik, go get the present for Director Park.”

“Yes, boss.”

Taesik nodded sharply and quickly walked toward the edge of the lake where he had been standing earlier. Seung-hyuk, tilting his head to the side, lit a cigarette and took a deep drag.

“Ugh… ugh…”

Though his arms and legs were now free, Director Park could only stare blankly at the man standing in front of him, his cheeks deeply hollowed out.

He couldn’t tell whether the “old man about to die” was a figurative expression or a literal prediction of what was to come. Yet, facing the indifferent eyes behind the rising cigarette smoke, he was left with no choice but to kneel on the icy ground.

Seung-hyuk, narrowing his eyes as he watched the man gripping his trouser legs and pressing his forehead against the shiny shoes, said,

“Please, just this once, let me live. I’ll go to the chairman and explain everything. H-How… It seems the guys below made a mistake. I really didn’t know—”

“Shut up.”

Ignoring the ice-cold water from the lake soaking his trouser legs, the middle-aged man desperately continued to plead his innocence. It was problematic, if not outright absurd, that his pleas lacked coherence.

Ignoring the man’s pleas, Seung-hyuk looked up at the clear blue sky and exhaled cigarette smoke. He then noticed a small ice hole in front of him, barely a meter in diameter, and sighed in frustration.

“Can’t you make a proper hole, you idiots?”

This was not the first time he had done this, and his patience with the lack of improvement in their ice-cutting skills was wearing thin. He had even bought the machinery himself after seeing how fishermen did it comfortably, but the fools still insisted on solving everything with brute force.

“Gu, Manager Gu… No, Seung-hyuk…! I’ve seen you come into the family… I’ve watched you grow up next to the chairman…!”

The ridiculous title and somewhat desperate plea caught Seung-hyuk’s attention. After turning his stiff neck and lowering his head, he saw Director Park’s eyes, bloodshot with burst capillaries, looking up at him. The sight of him, more like a piece of meat than a human, made Seung-hyuk frown.

Raising an eyebrow, Seung-hyuk casually removed his leg from the man’s grasp and gave his shoulder a nudge with his foot.

Park, trembling in fear, failed to notice the subtle shift in Seung-hyuk’s expression. He fumbled with the snow-covered ground and hesitantly spoke,

“Isn’t there anyone who can help me… I’m really, truly wronged.”

His eyes, filled with despair, were now fixed on the empty void in front of him. It was only now that he realized begging for mercy in front of such a cold, unfeeling face was pointless. Seung-hyuk, making a slight noise as he squatted down in front of Director Park, said,
“Director, why did you have to engage in actions that led to misunderstandings?”

“Seung-hyuk… Please…”

Seung-hyuk clicked his tongue in annoyance and flicked some ash from his cigarette in front of the man’s face. Park’s terrified eyes, fluttering and focused on the drifting ash, were fixed on Seung-hyuk’s face.

“I don’t want to do this either, but Chairman Gu always leaves these tasks to me,” Seung-hyuk said.

“Ugh… ugh…”

“You should know better if you’ve seen it for so long. I can’t move an inch with Chairman Gu and my brother,”

Seung-hyuk said, his lips curling into a mocking smile, contrasting with his cold, sunk eyes. The sardonic tone in his voice made Director Park’s body stiffen, and his gaze dart nervously.

Seung-hyuk then slipped the cigarette between his lips and reached into his jacket pocket. What he pulled out was a small Barbie doll with blonde hair and a pink dress. As he dangled it in front of Park’s bloodshot eyes, the nearly lifeless, pale face began to turn an eerie shade of blue.

“Let’s see… Usually, such dolls are hollow inside, but this one feels a bit heavy. Doesn’t that seem odd?”

“Ah, no… How could you…?”

“There might be a few more of these around. Do you know where they are, Director Park?”

“I-I don’t know… I really don’t know anything about it…”

Seung-hyuk chuckled grimly, finding the transparent horror in Park’s disheveled face almost amusing. The sight of the man stumbling over the same desperate pleas made it clear that further questioning would yield nothing new.

Seung-hyuk placed his hands on his knees and stood up.

“Director Gu, just a moment—”

“Take the 30 years of friendship with the old man to the afterlife, Director Park.”

Seung-hyuk grabbed the man by the hair and held him in place. Without giving Park a chance to speak, he began crushing the cigarette between his eyebrows. Park’s eyes widened in terror.

“Ugh, ugh…”

As the man’s blood-crusted lips slowly parted, a moan reminiscent of something from a zombie movie escaped. Seung-hyuk, grimacing at the sight of the man’s skin deteriorating, maintained his grip until the cigarette burned out completely.

“Arrgh!”

As the cigarette butt fell onto the blood-stained snow, a delayed scream echoed through the area. The burly men behind quickly restrained the suffering Park, holding his arms firmly. Soon, Tae-sik approached Seung-hyuk, handing him a handkerchief.

“Hyung, I brought what you asked for.”

Turning his head, Seung-hyuk saw several burly men struggling to carry a boulder half the size of an adult torso. He wiped the blood from his hands with the handkerchief and gestured toward Park.

“Loosely tie him up for me.”

“Yes!”

After finishing his instructions, Seung-hyuk scuffed his boots through the white snow, spreading the red bloodstains like watercolor on a canvas. Glancing around while licking the inside of his cheek, he clicked his tongue at the men struggling with the boulder.

“Hey, you guys want to go swimming too?”

“…No, sir!”

“Keep up the good work with your exercises.”

“Yes!”

Seeing the men glaring straight ahead with their muscles tensed, Seung-hyuk shook his head in disapproval. He then glanced around at the scattered bloodstains, the mysterious yellowish liquid, and the muddy snow tainted by shoe prints before speaking to Tae-sik.

“Don’t forget to bring water and clean everything up once you’re done.”

“Understood, Hyung. Are you heading home? Should I send someone with you?”

“That’s not necessary. Just gather some people at Nexus.”

“People who can come right away this early… at Nexus?”

Tae-sik, who had been observing the actions of the organization members beside Seung-hyuk, looked puzzled. Seung-hyuk furrowed his brow and brushed his falling hair back with one hand.

“I’m curious why Chairman Gu was so protective of this. Tell the manager to set everything up as best as possible. Let’s take a look before we hand over the key.”

“Got it. I’ll finish the preparations and come pick you up right away.”

As Seung-hyuk nodded and turned away, a muffled sound reached his ears. It was a mix of gagged moans and stern commands to stay still, coming from someone whose mouth was likely covered. Without turning back, Seung-hyuk walked toward the distant parked car.

A short while later, a loud splash echoed across the white-covered lakeside. After a moment of splashing sounds, they too faded into the stillness of the surrounding snow. In the complete silence, the only noise was the crunch of snow under Seung-hyuk’s black shoes. He quickened his pace, massaging his stiff neck.

The rope connecting the man’s legs to the heavy rock would loosen with a few struggles and sink to the lake’s bottom. The fleeting hope of surviving by swimming up would be shattered when faced with the thick ice covering the surface. No matter how hard one tried, breaking through such a solid ice sheet was nearly impossible, even with machinery.

In that fleeting moment of hope, facing the thick layer of ice on the surface, the hope would be shattered. No matter how hard he tried to break through the ice with his fists, it was futile.

Such solidly frozen ice was nearly impossible to break even with machinery. It would be only then that he would realize something was seriously wrong. People often come to understand their mistakes only when it’s too late, when everything has already happened and the moment is irreversible.

From the overcast sky, which seemed on the verge of snowing, a faint sunlight began to fall. It settled on the thick layer of snow, reflecting softly. The biting cold wind brushed sharply against the impassive face as if protesting against the events that had occurred by the peaceful lakeside.

White breath shattered before the lips, and with each swaying of the long coat’s hem, the white footprints became more pronounced. These hardened footprints trailed behind Seung-hyuk marking his path.