Scene 1. The Second Hand
A pocket watch ticked.
On the leader's palm. The brass lid open. A small second hand circling the inside of the round glass. Tick. Tick. The sound was strangely loud in the dark. The leader was looking down at that watch. Alternating between the watch's hands and the lights beyond the wall.
Beyond the wall stood a residence.
Japanese-style. The tiled roof drew a black ridgeline in the dark. Lanterns hung at the eaves' edges. Paper lanterns. Yellow light brightened the space beneath the eaves in soft circles. Beneath that light, the shadows of guards came and went. Both sides of the front gate. The yard's edges. At even intervals.
The smell of incense came over the wall.
The smell of food was mixed in too. Roasted things. Greasy things. The smell of liquor. A banquet was underway inside. Laughter leaked faintly out. Japanese. A woman's laugh. A man's deep voice.
Lee Kang did not smell it.
Lee Kang's back was empty.
The weight that had pressed his back for days was gone. Yeonhwa's weight. The chin that hooked over his shoulder. The fingers that hung before his throat. All of it gone. The night wind drove against his back. Wind came inside the coat. It swept his bare back. The burns. The shoulder where the sutures had torn. Cool.
That coolness made Lee Kang uneasy.
His back was not supposed to be empty. There was supposed to be weight. A cold weight. Because it was the anchor that held Lee Kang here. With no anchor, his body drifted. The drifting body was drawn toward one place. He had to finish fast and go back. He had to lay the weight on his back again. To do that, he had to clear that thing away fast.
That thing.
Lee Kang's eyes turned toward the innermost part of the residence beyond the wall. The room with the brightest light. The room where the deep voice came from. It was inside there. The one the leader had told him to kill.
"Move when the signal drops."
The leader whispered. Watching the watch. Not looking at Lee Kang.
"We'll bring down the east wall first. When the guards pour that way, then you—"
"It's that one over there. Right."
Lee Kang said.
The leader's hand holding the watch stopped.
Lee Kang's eyes were fixed on the inner room. He hadn't even pointed a finger. Only with his eyes. The leader followed Lee Kang's gaze. The innermost room. The room of the deep voice.
"...That's so, but." The leader looked at the watch again. "Not yet. The timing—"
Lee Kang's feet moved.
Before the leader's words ended. Toward the wall. The coat's hem snapped in the night wind. The leader's hand tried to catch Lee Kang's arm. It could not. Lee Kang's body was already two steps out into the dark.
"Comrade!"
The leader's whisper turned urgent behind him. Lee Kang did not look back. The leader's ticking watch, the plan to bring down the east wall, the timing of guards pouring over—none of it held meaning. The timetable held no meaning. With the target before his eyes, there was no reason to wait.
Lee Kang's bare feet stepped onto the earth beneath the wall.
Scene 2. The Front Gate
The front gate had two guards.
Standing beneath the paper lanterns. Rifles slung over their shoulders. They saw the thing approaching out of the dark late. A black coat. The blood-soaked bare chest beneath it. When the form darker than the dark stepped into the lanterns' yellow light, the first guard opened his mouth.
"Dare da—" Who's there—
The words did not finish.
Lee Kang's hand caught the first guard's throat. Beneath the lantern light. With one hand. He lifted him. The guard's feet left the earthen ground. The neck bone narrowed inside Lee Kang's palm. He twisted.
Crack.
The sound rang beneath the paper lantern. The second guard lowered his rifle. Tried to unsling it from his shoulder and aim. Lee Kang's hand threw the first guard's body at the second. The corpse flew and crashed onto the second. The two tangled and rolled across the earthen ground. The paper lantern swayed. Shadows danced madly across the yard.
Lee Kang passed through the front gate.
A yard. Laid with gravel. Stepping stones led to the inner entrance. Garden trees crouched as black masses in the dark. There was a pond. The lantern light reflected and swayed on the water.
A shout burst from inside.
They had heard the commotion at the gate. Guards poured out from the entrance. Five. Six. With rifles. Into the yard. Toward Lee Kang.
The first gunshot cracked.
The bullet passed beside Lee Kang. Lodged in the pond water. A column of water rose. Lee Kang's feet kicked the gravel. Gravel sprayed in every direction. Lee Kang ran across the stepping stones. Toward the guards. Straight.
Second gunshot. Third.
One bullet grazed Lee Kang's thigh. The place grazed yesterday. Again. A hot line drawn across it. His legs did not stop. Another shot punched through the coat's hem. The cloth tore and flapped.
Lee Kang's body dropped into the middle of the guards.
He was before a sliding door. The entrance's sliding door. A door of paper pasted on a wooden frame. Lee Kang's shoulder took the first guard. The guard flew inward, shattering the sliding door. The rupturing crack of the wooden frame. The sound of tearing paper. The guard's body rolled onto the tatami.
Lee Kang went in through that broken door.
Splinters pressed against his bare feet. Fragments of the broken doorframe. Scraps of paper. They stabbed his soles. Lee Kang did not stop. Behind him, the guards followed in. A narrow corridor. Tatami. The space to swing a rifle was tight.
Lee Kang's hand caught the nearest guard's arm.
The arm holding the rifle. He broke it. The sound of a shoulder leaving its socket. The guard screamed. Lee Kang shoved that guard into the corridor wall. The wall collapsed. Wood and earth poured down.
From deep in the corridor came the deep voice.
Lee Kang's ear caught that voice. The voice he'd heard earlier beyond the wall. The voice that had been at the center of the banquet. That voice now wore a different timbre. The timbre of giving orders. The timbre of calling for someone.
That was it.
Lee Kang's feet turned toward that voice.
Scene 3. The Beast's Table
The inner room's sliding door stood open.
There were people inside the room. Three bodyguard retainers in uniform. And the man who had been sitting in the center. Wearing silk. Before a liquor table. A cup overturned on the table. Liquor spreading across the tatami. The man was rising. A pistol gripped in one hand. The other hand bracing on the table.
The three retainers blocked the space between Lee Kang and the man.
They drew swords. Japanese blades. In the narrow room, the swords flashed in the lantern light.
The first retainer brought his blade down.
Toward Lee Kang's shoulder. Lee Kang's body twisted aside. The blade grazed his shoulder. The coat split. The flesh beneath it split. Blood welled. Lee Kang's hand caught the retainer's sword wrist. Twisted and broke it. The blade fell from the retainer's hand. Lee Kang did not catch the falling blade. He had no need of a blade. Lee Kang's forehead took the retainer's face. The sound of a nose bone breaking. The retainer fell backward.
The second retainer thrust his blade from behind.
Into Lee Kang's side. Into the place laid over five times. It was the sixth. The blade's tip split the flesh. Shallowly. Lee Kang's body went rigid once. A thin sound leaked from between his teeth. It was pain. The pain was certainly there. But that pain did not stop Lee Kang's motion.
Lee Kang turned and caught the second retainer's collar.
He pulled. The retainer's neck came before Lee Kang's face. The neck bared above the uniform collar. The thing beating beneath the skin. Lee Kang's nose caught it. The hot blood a single thin layer of skin beneath. A living thing.
Lee Kang's mouth opened.
His teeth sank into the retainer's throat.
The flesh tore. Soft. Human flesh. Softer than Ookami. There was little resistance to his teeth sinking in. A vessel burst. Blood pushed into his mouth. Hot. Gushing. It filled the roof of his mouth, wrapped his tongue, went down his throat.
The moment it went down, the pain in his side vanished.
The place the blade had split. The sword-cut in his shoulder. The gunshot in his thigh. The burns. All of it. Even the coolness of his empty back. The moment the blood went down his throat, all of it was buried. Not buried—filled. Something hot was poured into the empty places. It seemed the heat reached even the empty place on his back.
Lee Kang's jaw bore down. A piece of flesh tore away. He chewed. Once. Twice. Swallowed.
The third retainer stood rigid.
Blade in hand. Unable to move. The rigidity of one who had watched a comrade's throat be torn. The rigidity of one who had watched a man eat a man. The blade's tip was trembling.
Lee Kang dropped the second retainer's body onto the tatami. Blood ran down his chin from the corner of his mouth. Lee Kang took one step toward the third retainer.
The third retainer dropped his blade and fled.
Through the broken sliding door. Screaming. Lee Kang did not give chase. It was outside his interest. A fleeing thing was not the target.
Lee Kang's eyes turned toward the inner room.
The man in silk was there.
The man raised the pistol. With both hands. With both trembling hands. The muzzle pointed at Lee Kang. Japanese poured from the man's mouth. Fast. High. A voice mixing authority and terror. Lee Kang did not understand it. Did not try to.
The man shouted something. Who he was. What would happen if you touched him. What the Empire would do. The words reached Lee Kang's ears and ran off them. Beneath the paper lantern light. Sound that had lost meaning. The sound of prey barking before a beast's den.
The man pulled the trigger.
The bullet punched through Lee Kang's shoulder. The shoulder that already had the through-and-through. Again. Lee Kang's body lurched once. Did not stop. One step. The man fired again. The bullet grazed Lee Kang's chest. Over the ribs. Two steps. The man's hand shook so badly that the third shot missed. The bullet lodged in the tatami.
Lee Kang stood before the man.
The man's once-authoritative voice turned to a scream. The man tried to back away. He caught on the liquor table and fell. He landed hard on the tatami. A cup rolled. Liquor spilled across the man's silk.
Lee Kang's hand caught the man's throat.
Lifted him. The man's feet left the tatami. The man's hands clawed at Lee Kang's arm. His nails scraped Lee Kang's skin. There was no pain. Lee Kang's hand drew the man before his own face.
The man's last words came from his mouth. Japanese. Lee Kang did not understand them.
Lee Kang's mouth opened.
His teeth sank into the man's throat.
He tore. The man in silk. A high official of the Empire. The one the partisans had risked their lives to strike. The one at the very peak of political authority and power. That throat tore beneath Lee Kang's teeth. The same as any other throat. Soft. Hot. Rank.
Blood poured across the tatami.
Fine tatami. The neatly woven grain of the grass. Across it the dark red spread. Liquor and blood mixed. The paper lantern's yellow light swayed over it.
Lee Kang dropped the man's body onto the tatami.
He chewed. Swallowed. Blood ran down from the corner of his mouth. Down to his chest. Into the inside of the coat. Lee Kang's breathing settled. The coolness of his empty back was filled for a moment. The pain was buried for a moment. The blood had done it.
The room went quiet.
The paper lantern swayed. Corpses lay across the tatami. Blood was spreading. The smell of liquor and the smell of blood mixed. The smell of incense lay over it.
A word leaked from Lee Kang's mouth.
Soundless. With the shape of his lips alone.
It's done.
Scene 4. The Doctor
The search party leader stood before the broken door.
There was no telling when he had come in. A few partisans were behind him. Rifles in hand. Unable to come in. Frozen before the door. Watching the scene inside the room.
Torn throats. Blood across the tatami. The silk-clad official lying with his throat torn out. And the thing standing in the center of it. A form drenched in blood. A form with flesh hanging at the corner of its mouth. Amber eyes burning beneath the paper lantern light.
The leader's face was rigid.
The leader had thought this was a righteous act. A deed striking down an official of the Empire. Korea's blade. But what the leader was looking at now was not a deed. Not a blade. It was the place where a beast had taken a meal. A slaughterhouse.
What had been in the leader's eyes was changing.
There had been awe. When he first saw Lee Kang. Awe for the monster that had torn Ookami apart. That awe was now changing into something else. Into terror. Into revulsion. Into the realization that what they had drawn in was not a hero. The realization that it was not a weapon but a catastrophe.
Lee Kang walked toward the leader.
On bloodied feet. Across the tatami. One step at a time. The footprints printed red. Lee Kang stood before the leader. The leader stepped back. Reflexively. Blood was still running from the corner of Lee Kang's mouth. Flesh was caught between his teeth. That mouth opened.
Everyone in the room watched that mouth.
The leader swallowed.
What came from Lee Kang's mouth was not a cry of victory. Not a declaration of vengeance. Not the jubilation of a liberated homeland. Lee Kang did not know what he had just killed. Who in the Empire it was. What it meant to kill it. It held no meaning.
"It's dead."
Lee Kang said.
With blood running from the corner of his mouth. In a flat voice. The voice of one who had finished a transaction. The voice of someone back from shopping, checking a list.
The leader heard those words.
"The doctor."
Lee Kang said.
That was all. It's dead. The doctor. Two phrases. The meaning of the slaughter Lee Kang had just committed was contained entirely within those two phrases. He had killed the official to obtain the doctor. That was all. There was nothing else.
The leader could not open his mouth.
Silence settled over the room. The paper lantern swayed. The blood on the tatami was slowly cooling. Over the smell of incense, the smell of blood lay heavy. The partisans could not move before the door.
Lee Kang looked at the leader.
With amber eyes. With eyes waiting for an answer. With eyes demanding what had been promised.
The leader's mouth opened slowly.
"...I'll bring him."
The leader said.
His voice was trembling.
The corner of Lee Kang's mouth lifted, faintly. Blood ran along that corner. Lee Kang nodded. Once. And turned away. Toward the broken door. Toward the road back to the bunker. Toward the road back to Yeonhwa.
Lee Kang's back was empty.
He had to fill it fast.
Lee Kang's feet stepped over the blood on the tatami and headed out the door.
Behind him, the partisans cleared the way. So the beast could pass. So the catastrophe could pass. No one laid a hand on that back.
The paper lantern swayed hard one last time, and went out.