A while earlier. Still in this beautiful city of Srimnet.
A light rain had begun to fall at dusk. The chill brushed gently across my body.
A car passed by the boarding house, and its headlights flashed through the window. By pure coincidence, that beam of light landed right on my face.
"Too bright!" I yelled, jerking up from the mattress.
Starting today, my nighttime life would officially be turned completely upside down after taking a part-time job at a nightclub, one introduced by a kind friend from university. Because of a few paperwork-related issues, it had been hard for me to find part-time work lately. Luckily, that bastard recommended me, so my starving stomach had been saved.
A security job at a nightclub called Curabao, from eleven at night until four in the morning, with a fixed wage of one hundred dollars a night. It was pretty good for someone like me, who didn't have much experience, even if the working hours were a little ghostly.
After a simple evening meal of toast and fried eggs, I tried to lull myself to sleep at four in the afternoon and set my alarm for ten at night, so I could squeeze in as much rest as possible. However, since my body still wasn't used to sleeping like that, I woke up on my own the moment the hour hand touched eight. And after that, I couldn't close my eyes again.
Hung. Hung Nguyen, that's my name. An ordinary university student renting a run-down apartment.
It had been over a year since I left Vietnam and came to this city of Srimnet to study abroad and work here. No family, no old friends in this strange place. I had to build new relationships for myself and try to study at Srimnet Medical University, majoring in forensic pathology. Explaining why I chose this path would take a long story. If you want, you can go read it in another volume.
"I'm exhausted…"
Rolling around on the mattress, the first thing I did was pick up my beat-up old touchscreen phone and scroll through the news. And right away, the first thing I saw was a message from the police telling people to be careful when going out at night, along with countless news links about a serial murder case. I barely cared and just scrolled past them carelessly.
We international students don't really pay much attention to things like that. A serial killer? Please. It was probably just the media blowing it up to kick off some campaign behind the scenes. Still, warning messages like this from the police did only show up once in a while.
Then came a message from Kolnis, the kind friend who had introduced me to this job: "Remember to get to the club before eleven, dumbass! If you're late, I'm the one who gets in trouble with the boss! And be careful out there, things are a mess tonight!"
Looks like he got the police warning too, so he sent one of his own.
I let out a long yawn, stretched both arms, then tapped the bright red "OK" icon to reply. There were a few more emails and spam messages from random hotlines, but I didn't care and just shoved them into the "read" pile.
Then I tossed the phone aside.
That's how it is. My habit every time I wake up.
The first thing I did after getting off the mattress was go into the kitchen and make myself a cup of instant noodles with some leftover vegetables from the fridge. Ever since the bills in my wallet started getting up and walking away one by one, you could say instant noodles had become an irreplaceable companion in my daily life. Affection could be lacking, clothes could be ragged, but instant noodles still had to remain the bare minimum necessity.
In short, I absolutely love instant noodles. It really is one of humanity's greatest inventions.
After finishing the noodles, I tossed the cup straight into the recycling bin, then got up and walked over to the wardrobe beside my sleeping mattress. The last time I did laundry had been more than three weeks ago, so there weren't exactly many choices in there.
After more than ten minutes of hesitation, I grabbed a simple white T-shirt printed with a few Chinese characters that-I-had-no-idea-what-they-meant, along with a pair of blue jeans. That was the best I had right now.
Once I was fully "dressed up," I picked up my phone from the study desk and checked the schedule for the last bus to stop number 31, which was a few minutes' walk from the nightclub where I worked.
Taking the black umbrella by the wardrobe and my thin dark blue jacket, I stepped out through the door of my rented room. It was summer, but tonight would be fairly cold.
The rain fell in tiny drops. According to the weather forecast, it would continue until the next morning. A strong gust of wind carried the rain straight into my face. Immediately, I opened the umbrella and started walking briskly down the empty road ahead. It was nearly ten at night, and there were very few cars passing by. Every few minutes, the glare from a car's headlights would make me squint and step aside.
Whether by accident or on purpose, a four-seater car skimmed past a puddle in front of me and splashed water all over me.
"Jeez… what kind of driving is that?"
The area where I lived was pretty empty, so the streetlights weren't maintained very often. Every short stretch, the light would flicker on and off, creating an atmosphere so creepy it was irritating. In some places, there weren't even any lights at all. It made me seriously question the taxes I had to pay at the start of every year.
Bus stop number 12 was about a kilometer from my place. The wind and rain had slowed me down more than usual, but luckily the last bus still hadn't arrived. I looked over at the stop. There were still a few people standing under the shelter.
"Sorry. Sorry. Excuse me…" I said, folding my umbrella and squeezing in between them.
A few smacking sounds of annoyance clicked behind me, but no one complained. And I knew they wouldn't.
Only six minutes later, the bus rolled in slowly. It was an old model, painted yellow and black, with a rather antique look. The kind of bus you often saw in outlying areas like this.
I slipped my hand into my jacket pocket, searching for some loose coins to get on, about two dollars a ride. But the driver waved me off.
"No need," he said, then pointed toward the rows of seats behind him. "Last trip of the day. Just get on."
I nodded my thanks quickly and headed straight for the very first row of seats, choosing the one on the inside. Honestly, the only thing that made me uncomfortable about this job was having to travel by bus. Ever since I was a kid, I'd gotten motion sick easily, and that hadn't changed. If I had to sit at the very back or in the middle, I'd rather ride a bicycle than get on. So once I secured this seat, I had absolutely no intention of giving it up to anyone, whether they were an old person or a child.
Plugging my earphones into my phone, I gradually sank into the smooth current of ballads and rock songs from the seventies and eighties. As expected, the golden age of Western music was still unmatched. Legendary songs like "Hotel California" by The Eagles or "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen had never stopped being wonderful. From the lyrics to the voices of those legendary singers, they still completely outclassed today's electronic music.
My taste in music wasn't bad at all, I knew that for a fact, but the fact that I could only truly enjoy old songs like these made it hard for me to find a friend with the same preferences.
…
The old guitar had just faded away when my bus arrived at stop number 31. I quickly stuffed my earphones and phone back into my jacket pocket. Lowering my head in thanks to the kind driver, I stepped off the bus and continued down the street.
The rain kept falling, heavier and heavier. It made my hands go numb from the cold. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone once again, searching for the photos of the directions I had saved that morning.
In the middle of the night, Street No. 3 was quieter than ever. Here, the streetlights were still glowing steadily, but there wasn't a single person in sight. On the sidewalk, the smoke-gray paving tiles were soaked through with rainwater, giving everything a gloomy, silent feeling.
A few muffled beats of music drifted from a late-night party in a nearby apartment. Its blue-violet lights shone onto a rain-drenched chestnut tree, making it sparkle. Somewhere else, a child suddenly cried out, as if it had just been startled awake.
Then, all at once, something turned unnaturally still. The space around me nearly froze, and at the same time there came an awful sensation at my throat, as though someone were trying to strangle me.
A chill ran down my spine. I instinctively turned toward the light, but there was no one there. That was never a pleasant thing. Maybe all those reports about the serial murders happening in the city had made me a little jumpy. No. It felt more like a ghost.
It was only a natural fear. Fear of things that were unclear. Fear of things I didn't understand yet.
The rain still pattered against the fabric of the umbrella above me, a few drops slipping onto the bridge of my nose, ice cold. When that awful sensation began to fade, I swallowed hard and tried to take a few more steps, but my whole body still wouldn't stop trembling. Someone was still watching me from behind. I was aware of that, and yet I couldn't turn around and look. Clearly, this person's intentions weren't exactly friendly.
Lifting my face toward the cloud-covered sky, I took a deep breath and folded the umbrella shut. At this point, there was only one thing left to do.
I stopped for a second and cracked my neck and knuckles. Rolled my ankles a few times to warm up. No matter what, it had been a long time since I'd had to use it.
The legendary technique passed down by my ancestors.
Of the thirty-six stratagems, running away is the best one.
With that thought, I bolted, legs flying, sprinting straight ahead. At that moment, it felt as though some current of energy ran through my whole body, making my usually useless legs feel strangely powerful. As if every bit of strength buried inside me had exploded all at once.
I left everything behind me and ran as fast as I could. Never before had I pushed myself to the limit like this. Maybe those news reports about the serial killings had sunk deeper into my subconscious than I realized. Especially at a sensitive hour like midnight, everything felt even more obscure and terrifying.
Then a hand suddenly reached out from the darkness, touched my shoulder, and with it came a bone-deep breath of cold air.
I stopped running.
Twenty-two springs, and this was the end of them. I closed my eyes and prayed, letting life carry me wherever fate wanted. The only thing I regretted right now was that I still hadn't cleared my laptop's search history. If I had to die, I wanted to die clean and honorable. Hopefully the police wouldn't open my personal computer.
"Whoa, we're already here. Where the hell were you trying to run off to, dumbass?"
"Watch this! Super kick!"
I shouted, then spun on my heel and threw out a reverse hook kick like one of those wrestlers on the internet. A fast, decisive kick, driving straight toward that guy's face.
"What the hell are you even doing?"
The other guy immediately caught my ankle in his solid grip. I slowly recognized that voice and that face.
It was Kolnis, the one who had gotten me this nightclub job in the first place.
"So it's you. I thought it was someone else. I'm practicing martial arts to be a bodyguard here, you know. What do you think?" I laughed awkwardly and scratched my head.
"Bullshit. So if it had been someone else, you'd have given them a 'Super Kick' too? Good thing all your stupid moves are already in the palm of my hand."
He said that, then let go of my leg with visible irritation. And right when I wasn't paying attention, he blew cigarette smoke straight into my face.
Cough cough. Damn, my eyes stung. That bastard. If he hadn't gotten me this job, he'd be dead already. I've got more than one ultimate technique, you know.
As rude and rotten as he acted, deep down Kolnis was still a good person. On the outside, he always acted cold and way too cool for his own good, but he actually cared a great deal about what other people thought. The problem was, his rough personality made it hard for him to find anyone truly compatible.
Honestly, besides me, no one had enough generosity to put up with him.
Kolnis tossed the cigarette butt, still glowing red at the tip, into a puddle nearby and crushed it under his leather shoe. Once that was done, he shot me a sharp look.
"Hey, what the hell are you wearing?" He tilted his head toward me.
This shirt really was a little old, but it was still perfectly wearable, and the blue jeans weren't outdated enough to be called tragic. So I was genuinely confused by his question.
"Hm? What's wrong with it? You told me to come here to apply for a bodyguard position, right?"
"Tch, forget it."
Kolnis clicked his tongue and walked ahead, toward a mansion decorated with strands of blue-violet lights.
In terms of size, this was probably the biggest nightclub around here. Even just the door alone was at least three times the size of a normal one. On it was a neon-glow electronic sign: "Curabao, Open."
The moment he opened the heavy soundproof outer door, I was almost immediately swallowed by the club's lively atmosphere. The piercing, noisy sounds, the flickering LED lights, and the glow from the central dance floor all made me uncomfortable. Along the hallway stood six large men in black sunglasses, arms folded solemnly. They were all dressed in the same kind of black suit, so I guessed they were likely the nightclub's security.
Which immediately stirred up a worry inside me: was the standard for bodyguards here too high and strict… when everyone looked this broad-shouldered and muscular? Physically speaking, I wasn't that bad, but I definitely couldn't compare to the security guys here. Kolnis, on the other hand, was different. He was a full-blown gym maniac. Compared to those people, he wasn't inferior at all. He had ideal height and a solid build that looked almost like a professional wrestler's.
The two of us didn't head into the main club floor but instead turned into a room tucked away in a corner at the back. Standing outside, Kolnis gestured for me to straighten my clothes before slowly pushing the door open.
The sudden white light from the fluorescent lamp made me squint. It took a few seconds for everything to settle.
"Boss, this is the one I recommended for the security position."
Kolnis spoke, then gave a slight bow.
Behind an oak desk, a man dressed in glowing purple clasped his hands together. He nudged his swivel chair forward slightly, his eyes sweeping over me from head to toe.
"Okay! Start working right now!"
He slammed the desk and shouted excitedly.
It nearly made my weak little heart jump out of my chest from the shock. There had already been too many things today taking a toll on my cardiovascular system.
He suddenly stood up, one hand holding a wooden cane, the other stroking his platinum mustache. Then he slowly walked toward me.
"Sorry about that rude little entrance. I'm Wiko, owner of the Curabao nightclub."
He said that and held out his hand to me.
After a brief hesitation, I quickly took Wiko's hand and bowed my head once more.
"I'm Hung Nguyen. You can just call me Hung."
Wiko was a middle-aged man, quite tall and rather slender. His salt-and-pepper hair was longer than what was typical, but he seemed to take very good care of it, because it looked neat and elegant. And what surprised me most about Wiko was that he wore only one white glove, on his right hand, with five rings over the glove itself.
"Very pleased to meet you."
He continued while I was still staring at those gemstone-studded rings. I didn't know how business at this nightclub worked, but this man looked incredibly rich.
"Thank you, sir."
Wiko laughed heartily and patted my shoulder hard. Then he turned to Kolnis and did the same thing to him, as if it were a habit.
"You did well too. In such a short time, and you already found someone like this."
"He's my friend. He happened to still be looking for work, so I invited him over. It's nothing, boss." Kolnis grinned brightly.
Wiko nodded.
"If he's someone you recommended, then I can trust him. So, does he intend to start working tonight?"
Kolnis immediately nudged my arm lightly, signaling that I should answer Wiko's question right away.
"Yes, if possible, I'd like to start tonight."
I replied with absolute sincerity.
"Wonderful!"
He came over again and grabbed my arm once more.
"You really are the person I've been looking for all this time. Wait here a moment, I'll get your equipment immediately."
The moment he finished speaking, Wiko hurried to the corner of the room. Using the bunch of keys hanging from his wrist, he unlocked the cabinet there.
Before coming here, I had worried that my boss would be some arrogant, awful bastard, but apparently life hadn't become that cruel to me just yet. Wiko was surely an approachable and kind… man?
"Here. Your equipment. Luckily, I bought it in advance."
He said that and set down, right in front of me, a metal bucket and a faded rag. Before I could even process what was happening, Wiko kept going and tossed out a spray bottle and a toothbrush.
"Right. Pick those up, then turn right and head to the restroom. When you're done, go down to the basement and guard the parking area for the guests."
He said that with a bright smile.
"Mm, do your best, alright? I've got something to do outside…"
Kolnis turned and started toward the door. Still, I managed to grab his shoulder tightly and clamp down with all the strength I had.
"Hold it right there. Stand still and let me ask you something, you bastard."
"Come on now, old friend, let go of my shoulder. I've got work to do."
He looked at me warmly.
"What the hell is all this? Wasn't I hired here as a bodyguard?"
"Exactly. All of that is necessary for you."
He said it like he was making an excuse while trying to slip away.
At that moment, I could no longer keep my composure. He had very clearly tricked me.
"Then why the hell am I holding a bucket and a rag? And going into the restroom too?" I shouted.
"Just shut up and carry it. I told you, it's necessary!" he yelled back at the same volume.
From farther away, Wiko looked over at us. He struck his right fist into his left palm, as if to say, Ah, I see what's going on now.
"Looks like Kolnis didn't explain it very clearly, huh? It's true that we need security, but it's for the parking lot, and it also comes with cleaning duties. Still, don't worry, the pay is definitely one hundred and fifty dollars a day. If you don't want the job, that's fine too."
The world seemed to collapse beneath my feet. Everything happening right now felt like a joke. My fate was far too cruel and complicated, toying with my life like a juggling act.
Still, for money, I could do anything. I would grit my teeth and take the job.
"Fine. I'll take it." I picked up the metal bucket and the rag, then walked heavily out of Wiko's office.
…
Two long, dragging hours had passed…
After finishing the cleaning work in the restroom, I placed the tools at the end of the long hallway, then dragged my feet down toward the parking area.
Sitting down on a three-legged stool, I quietly stared at the black-and-white camera screen. Outside, the rain still fell without end, forming little streams that rushed down toward the parking ramp. If the drainage system weren't good, the place probably would've flooded from the rain by now.
Thinking back on it, it was actually pretty strange. Inside the nightclub there had to be dozens of huge bodyguard-looking guys, and yet down here in the parking lot there was only me on guard. More than that, the parking area here was enormous, and the number of luxury cars wasn't small either. Had they really put that much faith in the surveillance cameras that they left only me behind?
A craving for cigarettes made my mouth feel empty, aching for a little smoke to keep me company in this loneliness. Throughout the three weeks since I started quitting smoking, my mouth had constantly felt unpleasantly hollow. And to ease that craving a little, I took a cigarette filter from my jacket pocket, put it in my mouth, and held it between my lips.
It wasn't exactly satisfying, but it did help me forget the craving a little.
Actually, working down in the parking lot wasn't all that bad. Aside from not being able to connect to the Wi-Fi, it was much better for me than working as security upstairs. How do I put it… I didn't like the noisy, crowded atmosphere up there. It made me feel incredibly nauseous and uncomfortable. The smell of cigarette smoke, sweat, and alcohol from strong drinks all mixed together into a disgusting cloud of scent. I didn't like any of it.
A nightclub is the perfect place to start a new relationship, which is exactly why it doesn't suit someone like me—a man who already has too many. It's also a place tied to trouble, to conflicts between people, and to all kinds of other unpleasant things. It isn't the kind of place where I can sit down and comfortably observe everything around me, because the noise would destroy all of that.
How should I say this… I love people, and I want to watch them for a very long time. To observe every movement of their facial muscles, their breathing, every action they take, and then record it all in my brain. That is also the only reason I exist.
Humans are fascinating. They're nothing like emotionless computers or tedious little electronic chips. You can't calculate their feelings or suppress them completely. That is why human beings are the one mystery humanity itself can never fully solve. Even when they die, they still carry their secrets down into the grave.
But my job is to dig those secrets back up, from inside their graves, and dissect them in the most literal sense. That's right, corpses can no longer think like the living, but they still remain vessels holding the secrets they hid while they were alive. So… what could be more wonderful than observing them? They can't resist like they did when they were alive. They can't feel the pain of flesh anymore, so I can freely dig through those secrets inside their bodies… uncover the things I could never understand while they were still alive…
However, there was something that fascinated me even more than humans. Now, I wanted to find a mutant. Someone extraordinary enough to step beyond the evolutionary ladder of humankind.
Aside from emotions, there is still one more problem that humans have yet to answer for themselves: the latent abilities hidden inside them. They aren't quite as alien as the science-fiction films we've seen—those latent abilities are already right there inside our bodies.
They lie in the genes. And the work of scientists is simply to amplify the abilities that humans already possess.
Mutants are the products created from that. According to rumors passed from mouth to mouth among the people of Srimnet, there is a research institute in the northern outskirts called the Institute of Mutation. Most research on mutants is supposedly carried out for military, medical, and commercial purposes.
Some of the rumors I picked up on the Polokis website said this: in order to successfully create a mutant with superhuman powers, the Institute of Mutation often selected orphaned children as test subjects. If the experiment to amplify their abilities succeeded, those children would then be sold to military organizations and turned into biological weapons.
Still, everything remained at the level of rumor. More than twenty years had passed since the Institute of Mutation was founded, and they had yet to produce a single real success. The people's belief in the mysteries surrounding it had gradually faded with time. And then suddenly, the mass murder case happened, and no one could find a reason to explain it. People began searching for something to cling to, and so the rumors of a mutant rose again.
They used one mystery to explain another mystery. It made no sense, and yet it was fascinating.
Mystery, I like it. Humans, I like them. A mutant is a human being filled with even more mysteries, and so I love them. Love them so much that I cannot control my reason.
But there is only one way for me to express that immense love toward them.
I have to cut them open…