Chapter 5: Just because it looks painful doesn’t mean it’s actually painful

“We got a report! Open the door now!”

This was the first time I felt despair over a locked door.

Someone needs help—who could’ve done something so horrific?

With the door unyielding, I recalled the call with the reporter, growing anxious.

Ring ring ring

“Hello, Delta District Police Station. What’s the issue?”

“…I think there’s domestic violence happening at the place I just delivered to.”

The voice was calm but tense.

I could tell this wasn’t trivial.

“Can you provide more details?”

The reporter got to the point, speaking calmly and clearly.

“It’s near Delta District Elementary School, a house with a blue roof. It’s the only one around, so you’ll spot it. The victim’s condition… it’s severe.”

“What’s the victim’s condition?”

“Pale face, dried blood around the mouth. Extremely thin, probably starved for a long time. Their body must be in bad shape.”

“We’re heading out now. Hey, start the car!”

I told my junior to start the car, grabbed gear for any situation, and rushed to the scene.

Blood from the mouth from abuse—how much pain must they have endured?

I had to get them out fast, but the door was stubbornly shut.

“No choice. Prepare to breach.”

“But sir, we don’t have a warrant.”

“I’ll take full responsibility. Get ready.”

As we prepared to breach, calming ourselves, the door slowly opened.

A girl, looking like she might collapse, peeked through the gap.

“Uh, what’s going on?”

Was she just being abused?

Thankfully, we arrived before she lost her life.

I approached her and spoke.

“Police. We got a report.”

“A report?”

She tilted her head, looking completely confused.

“Yes, we can’t disclose the reporter’s identity for protection, but we suspect a crime. Please cooperate.”

“Sorry, but I don’t think there’s any crime here.”

No crime?

She looks like she’s dying and needs help—what is she saying?

“For now, please come with us to the station. Can you do that?”

“No, I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t want to go…”

She refused, her face filled with fear.

She looked utterly broken.

Afraid of retaliation?

Given the situation, her report probably wasn’t taken seriously, leading to worse abuse.

I needed to protect her.

“I haven’t done anything wrong… Really, nothing…”

To calm the trembling girl, I patted her head and continued.

“I understand. Still, can you come with us? We need to check something.”

“…Okay.”

Resigned, she got into the back of the police car.

*

What is happening?

Why are the police at my house, trying to take me?

Have I committed a crime?

I racked my brain—nothing.

At most, I left money on the table at the gukbap place, but I paid, so that’s not a crime.

“Wait, did the gukbap place report me? I left money, but maybe they didn’t see it?”

Doubts crept in, but with the police pounding on the door, I set them aside and cautiously opened it.

“Uh… what’s going on?”

“Police. We got a report.”

“A report?”

Who reported me?

I had no clue and stared at the officer, but he was firm.

“Yes, we can’t disclose the reporter’s identity for protection, but we suspect a crime. Please cooperate.”

“Sorry, but I don’t think there’s any crime here.”

I’ve been here four days.

Three in the hospital, one running around like a fugitive.

None of my actions could be linked to a crime.

But the officer whispered, determined to take me.

“Please come with us to the station. Can you do that?”

“No, I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t want to go… I really haven’t done anything…”

I absolutely didn’t want to go.

I’ve done nothing wrong—why the station?

Fear made my voice tremble, but it didn’t work.

“I understand. Still, can you come with us? We need to check something.”

He wasn’t treating me like a criminal, not entirely.

Fine, I’ll go.

I’ve done nothing wrong—what’s there to fear?

“Okay.”

At the station, the officer led me somewhere quickly.

What I saw was…

“Porridge?”

Plain porridge, the blandest kind.

I looked at the officer with confusion, and he gazed at me warmly.

“You must be hungry. Eat, then we’ll talk.”

“Do police stations serve porridge now?”

I questioned the porridge, but he answered like it was obvious.

“We usually get what you want, but your stomach’s probably upset, so we prepared porridge. If you don’t like it, want watery rice instead?”

“I’ll just eat this.”

Plain porridge or watery rice—both tasteless.

They didn’t seem keen on other options, so I ate.

At least it’s more than the hospital gave.

It filled me up, but the taste?

Nonexistent.

No seasoning at all.

As I ate spoonfuls, the officer watched with a pleased look, which started to feel oppressive.

“Uh… sorry, but you’re making me uncomfortable.”

“My apologies. I’ll step out. Call me when you’re done.”

“Okay.”

Once he left, my stiff brain started working.

Why am I here?

It wasn’t even lunch, yet they had plain porridge ready.

If the gukbap owner filed a complaint, I’d be facing them, not porridge.

So, I’m here for a completely different reason.

“Then why am I here?”

Suddenly, the delivery guy’s words flashed through my mind.

‘If you’re in trouble at home, blink.’

Blink blink

‘I’ll definitely help you.’

“Did he report me to the police thinking I needed help?”

It all clicked.

The police’s insistence on taking me, their pitying looks, the ready porridge.

It was all because the delivery guy and police mistook me for a victim of domestic violence or abuse.

“I need to clear this up fast.”

I stood to correct the misunderstanding and approached the door.

It opened, and the officer walked in.

“Finished eating?”

“Yes, but there’s a big misunderstanding—”

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out during the investigation.”

Trying to correct his assumption, I mistakenly swapped “abuse” for “domestic violence.”

“It’s not domestic violence. For one, I don’t even have a family—”

The officer’s face hardened, as if something clicked, and he made a call.

“It’s me. I think we’ve located the suspect. Delta District. Surround the area.”

“Wait, I chose the wrong word—”

“It’s fine. Stay here, and everything will be resolved. I’ll be back after handling something.”

With that, he rushed out.

I stared at the door, defeated.

“F*ck, I’m screwed.”

*

Meanwhile, in Delta District.

“What’s with this sudden heavy security?”

I killed three women in Alpha District, erasing all evidence perfectly.

Beta District felt risky, so I came to Delta to scout my next target.

But something felt off.

“It was a perfect murder. Was there a witness?”

No way to know.

Police always hide investigation details from the public.

Maybe they found something I overlooked.

The biggest issue?

They’re stopping every civilian for checks.

“Damn these overly moral bastards… Can’t someone resist and run?”

Of all times, I’m carrying my “tool” during a checkpoint.

Worst-case scenario.

An officer approached.

“We need to conduct a check.”

“A check?”

“Yes, we got a tip about a violent criminal here. Please cooperate.”

Smiling, I backed away, feigner ignorance.

Caught or fleeing, I’m dead either way.

So, I chose to run for a slim chance of survival.

“…Target spotted. Requesting backup. Or should I shoot?”

I overheard the officer on his radio.

[No need to arrest. He’s likely killed three or more. No mercy for scum like that. Shoot on sight.]

“…F*ck!”

Bang! Bang!

I tried to escape into an alley, but the officer fired without hesitation.

Two bullets hit my leg, rendering me unable to walk.

The officer caught up.

“Argh!! F*ck!!!”

“You’re the one who raped and killed three women in Alpha District, right?”

“If I said no… cough, would you believe me?”

“If you were innocent, you wouldn’t have run.”

The officer sneered and shot my stomach.

“You… f*cking… bastard…!”

“I hate criminal scum like you. I’d love to make you suffer, but we need your body for autopsy.”

He aimed at my forehead, grinning.

“Be grateful I’m sending you off cleanly, you filthy criminal.”

Bang!

As the bullet hit my forehead, I heard him report on the radio while my consciousness faded.