The road was deserted, and only the suppressed rumble of the engine disturbed the absolute silence of the night. The van glided through the residential districts like a ghost, and in its cargo hold, on the cold metal floor, lay two unconscious bodies. Ming You periodically glanced in the rearview mirror, and his eyes, black and empty like coal mines, reflected only calm confidence.
When he finally turned into a familiar dead end and cut the engine, the silence descended with renewed force. Ming You got out, and his shoes slapped softly against the broken asphalt. The night was moonless, the stars hidden by the city haze, and only the dim glow of a distant streetlamp painted sinister shadows on his face.
He opened the van's rear doors. Inside, it smelled of sweat, fear, and metal. Two bodies lay there like trophies. So Ho, whose fit body now seemed helpless and fragile. Next to him — So Yeon. Her slender figure, usually full of grace and strength, was now curled in an unnatural position. Ming You leaned in, and his breath, even and cold, touched their faces.
He carefully took So Ho by one arm and So Yeon by the other, trying not to bump their heads so they wouldn't wake up prematurely. Their skin under his fingers in the thin vinyl gloves was warm, alive — and from this contrast, a wave of almost erotic chills ran down his spine.
"Living material," he thought. "The most malleable and interesting, heh-heh."
With effort, he began dragging them toward the dark gap in the wall of a half-ruined building. The bodies left two shallow grooves in the dusty ground. Ming You felt cold sweat running down his back under the rough fabric of his sweatshirt, but it was the sweat of concentration, not strain. His muscles worked efficiently, without wasting extra energy.
"Almost… almost…" he muttered under his breath, urging himself forward, and in his whisper there was not tension, but anticipation.
Finally, they reached the entrance. The door, crooked, rotten, hung on one hinge. Ming You pushed it with difficulty using his foot, and it let out a long, tortured creak. Behind it opened darkness, smelling of dampness, mold, and fresh polyethylene.
"Come in," he said sarcastically, with a theatrical bow, slightly lifting first So Ho and then So Yeon as he stepped over the threshold.
Inside, in the beams of weak flashlights with red filters, the world transformed. The floor, walls, even part of the ceiling were covered in several layers of thick white polyethylene. It muffled sound, absorbed light, turning the basement into a sterile, surreal chamber. In the center of the room, against a bare concrete wall, protruded several thick, rusty pipes. It was to these that Ming You dragged his victims.
He tied up So Ho first. Ming You took heavy-duty nylon zip ties, tightened them around his ankles, then his wrists, so tightly that the thin skin immediately turned white under the pressure. Then he lifted the unconscious body and wrapped a few more ties around his torso and the pipe, chaining the youth firmly to the cold metal. So Ho hung in an unnatural pose, his head falling onto his chest.
He did the same with So Yeon, but with an added detail. Before tying her to the adjacent pipe, he took a sharp knife and carefully, unhurriedly, slit her black long-sleeve shirt lengthwise. The fabric parted with a hissing sound, revealing a slender torso in a sports top.
Ming You did not touch her with his bare hands — only with the blade and through the glove. He removed the slit shirt, tossed it into a corner, and then just as rigidly fixed her wrists and ankles, pulling her body close to the pipe. She hung like a broken doll, her long black hair falling over her face.
Though the basement was lined with white polyethylene, its darkness, illuminated by a blood-red beam, still seemed endless, pulsating, and alive. Ming You, maneuvering easily in the narrow space, approached So Ho's bag. He took out a basketball from it — that very one, bright orange with black stripes and characteristic scuffs from countless impacts on asphalt. Ming You squeezed it in his hand, feeling the rough surface, and a smile touched his thin lips.
He walked over to So Ho and crouched in front of him. With his right hand, holding the ball, he lightly patted the youth on the cheek.
"Hey, wake up!" his voice sounded loud and unnaturally cheerful in the tomb-like silence of the basement.
So Ho only groaned dully, his eyelids trembling. Ming You waited. Then patted again, harder this time.
"Get up, champ. The game hasn't even started yet."
The reaction was agonizingly slow. So Ho stirred, tried to stretch, but the zip ties dug into his skin. He opened his eyes. At first, his gaze was hazy, unconscious, full of pain and disorientation. So Ho blinked, trying to focus in the blood-red gloom. And then his gaze fell on the ball in Ming You's hand.
Realization came instantly, like an electric shock. His eyes widened, filled with wild, animal terror. He jerked his entire body, and the metal pipe clanged dully.
"You!" his voice broke into a hoarse, strained scream. "What have you done to me? Where am I… Where's my sister?!"
Ming You, without changing his expression, with a light, almost careless movement, threw the ball. It hit So Ho right on the bridge of his nose with a dull, bony click. So Ho gasped, and a scarlet stream of blood immediately gushed from his nostrils, spreading over his upper lip and chin.
"Calm down," Ming You said in an even tone. "Screaming only wastes oxygen. Look to your right."
So Ho, choking on blood and pain, turned his head with difficulty.
And froze.
His sister, So Yeon, was hanging on a pipe three meters away from him. Her body, usually so lively and strong, now was pale, almost waxen in the red light. The sports top hugged her small but firm breasts, and her thin waist and rounded, strong hips, usually hidden by shorts, were now partially exposed. On the inner side of her left forearm, scars from shallow cuts were visible — several parallel lines.
"So Yeon!" So Ho's roar was no longer human, but beast-like. He lunged forward, the zip ties bit into his flesh, and crimson furrows appeared on his wrists. "Don't touch her! You monster! Let her go!"
Ming You only raised an eyebrow, as if observing an interesting but not too complex experiment.
"She is safe," he uttered, pausing to let the words gain the right weight, "if you behave. If you… listen."
"What have you done to her?" So Ho's voice broke into a whisper, then soared to a scream again. Tears, mixing with blood, streamed down his face. "Those cuts… Let us go, I'll do anything! Money? Anything! I'm begging you!"
Ming You slowly shifted his gaze from So Yeon to So Ho. His face remained a stone mask.
"I can't. We have business to settle. You wanted this yourself. You wanted the truth," he pronounced this word with a light, caustic hiss. "Don't you understand what's happening?"
"I only understand that you're a sick bastard!" shouted So Ho, shaking his head. "A madman! Let us go before it's too late!"
Ming You slowly sighed. He lowered his head, then abruptly raised it, and a strange, intellectual fire flashed in his empty eyes.
"I'm not mad. I'm a realist. I am a person who achieves his goal. And you and your principles, your stupid honesty — are a threat to that goal. You're like dirt on a lens, preventing me from seeing the picture clearly."
"What goal? What threat? What are you talking about?!" So Ho thrashed in hysterics, the wound on his nose pulsating, emitting new drops.
"You and your sister were in the wrong place at the wrong time," Ming You began. He took a few steps on the polyethylene, which rustled under his sneakers. "But it goes deeper. The weak, the doubting, those who cling to illusions like 'fair play'… it's complete nonsense. Such people need to be removed. And you… you're not just weak. You're a stubborn weakling. And that's worse."
"What does she have to do with this?!" So Ho spat out a clot of blood. "Why did you cut her?!"
Ming You stopped in front of So Yeon. He reached out and ran the back of his gloved fingers along her cheek.
"These cuts?" he leaned in, as if studying an artist's work. "That wasn't me. That was her. Or rather, it was you."
So Ho froze, not understanding.
"What?"
"Her pain, her fear, her desire to escape — that's the result of your weakness," Ming You's voice became cold as steel. "You never knew how to protect those dear to you. You don't know how even now. You let the world hurt them, while you hide behind your principles. Coach Chang Woo… I removed what was important. For victory. And you? You allowed your sister to get to the point where she cuts herself, just to drown out the pain from the fact that her brother is a helpless idealist."
"You're lying!" So Ho rasped, but a crack of doubt already sounded in his voice. He looked at his sister. "Yeon… that's not true, right?"
So Yeon, barely conscious, couldn't speak yet. She just looked at her brother, and tears streamed down her face in silent rivulets.
"You see?" Ming You smiled. It was a thin, predatory smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Silence is also an answer. Maybe I'll even take pity on her, ease her suffering, so to speak." He paused, enjoying the flash of insane hope in So Ho's eyes. "Though you know… no. No one intends to ease her suffering."
And with these words, he turned to his bag. The rustling of the polyethylene was as loud as a gunshot. When he straightened up, a long, narrow blade of a kitchen knife gleamed in his hand. It reflected the red light of the flashlight as if forged from hell itself.
"No… NO! NOOOO!" So Ho thrashed in a real hysterical fit. He tore the skin on his wrists, trying to break free, his screams were incoherent, filled with pure, unfiltered terror.