Convict Unit: Black Parade

The Iron Knight’s Ford Mustang had kicked the bucket.

The cause, it seemed, was the aggressive driving—speeding to catch the bus, then slamming on the brakes.

The Iron Knight pressed a hand to his forehead and sighed.

“This damn piece of junk. So old and beat-up… I had a feeling its time was coming.”

He stared wistfully at the dead dashboard. “Yeah, I guess it’s time for you to retire, too.”

“…”

Just then, the Archmage cautiously touched his fingertips to the dashboard and sent a current through it.

A slender tendril of lightning snaked from his fingertips, whipping once around the car’s interior, and…

Vroooom!

As if its breakdown had all been a lie, the Ford Mustang roared back to life with a guttural cry.

“Archmage! How…!”

The Archmage simply smiled at the Iron Knight’s astonished face. “See? Still in fine shape. It can run for a good while longer.”

“Like us?”

“Yes. Like us.”

“Hah, I love it! We’re still young! Let’s keep on running!”

Listening from the back, Ghost just shook her head. “The fact that you have to say that proves you’re old men, you damn relics.”

Instead of replying, the Iron Knight cranked up the car’s audio system.

As the cheerful beat of a drum filled the speakers, he turned his head to the back seat, grinned, and waggled his eyebrows at Ghost and Jae-hee.

“I’ll carry you home.”

At the same time, the song “We Are Young” by Fun. began to play.

The miraculously resurrected Mustang shot forward. The Iron Knight, swept up in the moment, started singing along, and the Archmage, who seemed to like the song too, hummed quietly.

“It’s not even metal anymore… though I guess it’s still rock,” Ghost grumbled, but a smile touched her lips, too.

She knew all too well what an undeserved blessing it was to have friends like these—friends you could say goodbye to a dozen times in a single day, argue with, and then, moments later, sing with as if nothing had ever happened.

Ghost began to sing along.

Soon, the old convertible, speeding down the overpass, was filled with the sound of three heroes from thirty years ago, each singing the old pop song in their own key.

Jae-hee didn’t know the song at all, so he just listened, but he felt good. Ghost’s voice, with its characteristically cool, clear tone, was especially easy on the ears.

Music that old people like… he thought. It’s kinda sad. Sad but also upbeat…

Jae-hee nodded to himself.

Rock really is a lot like trot.

He kept the thought to himself, figuring the three of them would probably beat him up for saying it.

***

That afternoon, Ghost and Jae-hee rested in their respective rooms. The sudden incident had left them both exhausted.

After a long nap, Ghost summoned Jae-hee as evening approached. The two of them headed out into the city.

“Work’s done, the pests are gone. Time to start our Seoul food tour in earnest.”

“Seoul-style! Seoul-style! Finally, some real Seoul-style!” Jae-hee did a little shoulder dance and asked urgently, “What are we eating?!”

“Tonight’s menu is… dak-hanmari.”

Jae-hee tilted his head. “A whole chicken? Pfft. One chicken per person is nothing.”

“No, the name of the dish is dak-hanmari.”

“Huh?” Jae-hee sounded confused, having never heard of such a dish.

After they entered the restaurant and ordered a portion for two, Ghost explained. 

It was a type of chicken hot pot where you boiled chopped chicken and various vegetables together at the table, then dipped the pieces in a sauce.

“They say it was more popular with foreigners than with Seoulites. A lot of people outside the city have never even heard of it, and plenty of people in Seoul don’t know it exists, either.”

The hot pot was set on their table almost immediately, and it quickly began to boil.

Once the broth had turned a rich, cloudy white, Jae-hee took a sip, and his eyes widened.

“This is delicious! Why isn’t it more popular?”

“It’s good, no doubt. But I guess it’s because the flavor is so subtle and light. Koreans are crazy about spicy, fiery flavors, so it probably never caught on.”

“Ah.”

“But once you get a taste for it, there are few things better.”

While a similar dish, samgye-tang, involved simmering a whole chicken until it was fall-apart tender, dak-hanmari was about cooking the chicken pieces right at the table to preserve their chewy texture.

The moment the chicken was cooked, Jae-hee wolfed it down. Ghost ordered an extra side of chicken dumplings, which he also boiled in the broth and gobbled down, hissing through the heat.

“And to finish it off, you add some knife-cut noodles like this…”

Jae-hee gulped.

They cooked the noodles in the remaining broth and ate them.

“And for the real finale, you have to make fried rice.”

“Of course! The quintessential Korean dessert! Fried rice!”

They used the last bit of broth to fry up rice with minced water parsley, egg, and seaweed.

Jae-hee finished the meal with a blissful expression, cradling his stomach as though it held something precious. “I’m… so happy right now.”

“That’s a weird way to say it… but hey, if you’re happy, you’re happy.”

After dinner, the two moved to a café for dessert.

“Seoul is also a city with an insanely high standard for cafés.”

“Is there a secret to it?”

“Everyone and their mother tried to open a café, so if you couldn’t compete on quality, you died. The average quality shot through the roof as a result.”

Ghost scratched the back of her head. “That was thirty years ago, anyway. It’s not quite like that these days… but you can’t erase that foundation, you know? Any café still in business today knows its coffee.”

“Right! To survive is to be strong!”

With that, they entered a café near the restaurant.

Ghost ordered a hand-drip coffee, and Jae-hee, curious, ordered the same.

“How long has it been since I had a proper drip coffee?”

After the Gates opened, intercontinental trade had plummeted, making imported coffee beans hard to come by.

But Korea, a nation of caffeine addicts, had found a solution. They started cultivating coffee beans in the warm climate of Jeju Island.

More recently, Okinawa had also begun full-scale coffee cultivation, and imports from relatively close Southeast Asian countries had become more active.

It was still much more expensive than before the Gates, but not prohibitively so. Ghost slowly savored the aroma before taking a sip.

“This is sublime.” The fragrance was so exquisite she even shivered.

Is it really that good?

Wondering, Jae-hee took a sip himself and immediately grimaced. “So bitter!”

“Of course coffee is bitter. The point is to catch the subtle notes of flavor and aroma within it.”

“But all the coffee I’ve had before was pretty sweet.”

“Instant mix is good in its own way… but it’s a completely different genre.”

Jae-hee pumped syrup into his cup several times until it finally became palatable.

“Delicious!”

“No, that’s… Ugh. Fine. If you say it’s delicious, then it’s delicious.”

Ghost tried to order a cake to go with their drinks, but they were already sold out.

“Aw, cake! I was hoping I’d finally get to try some!”

“Come to think of it… you said you’d never had real cake before?” Ghost asked, recalling their conversation during the first mission.

Jae-hee nodded. “It’s my one claim to fame. I’ve never had a proper slice of cake in my life.”

“Hmm.”

“But this chocolate they gave us is really good, too!”

As Jae-hee alternated between sips of coffee and bites of chocolate, Ghost commented offhandedly. “Next time there’s a special occasion…”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll buy you a cake.”

“For real?! You promise, Master?!”

After leisurely finishing their coffee at the café, they returned to the hotel.

It was already quite late, so they decided to go their separate ways for the rest of the night.

Just as Jae-hee was about to flop onto his bed to watch some TV, a knock came at his door.

“Boy.”

“Yes, Master!”

“Run an errand for me.”

Jae-hee scurried out to find Ghost standing in the hotel hallway. She pulled a ten-thousand-won bill from her wallet and handed it to him.

“I could use a soda. Go buy me a can.”

“Just one can?”

“Yeah. And… you can use the change to buy yourself a snack.”

“Sweet!”

Jubilant, Jae-hee flapped the bill in his hand as he left the hotel.

The midnight street was dark, but he walked on fearlessly. He’d already spotted a convenience store nearby on his way to and from the hotel.

“Hm?”

And then, as he reached the intersection where the store was located, he noticed someone standing in the middle of the crossroads.

“We meet again.”

The person dropped the cigarette they were smoking and ground it out with the tip of their shoe.

“No… actually, I was waiting for you.” A blue suit, a white scarf. Shimmering blond hair. “There’s one thing I’d like to ask.”

The Hunter known as the Archmage smiled faintly.

Then, out of the blue, he asked, “What is your wish, Boy?”

***

A three-term congressman, the leader of the opposition party, and a senior advisor to the Hunter Association.

And Jae-hee was currently sitting across from this man at a plastic table outside a convenience store.

The Archmage watched him with a smile, while Jae-hee licked the milk-flavored ice cream the man had bought him, cautiously trying to read him.

Why would someone this important want to see me?

Just then, the Archmage spoke. “You went through quite a lot on that last mission, didn’t you?”

“Huh?”

“The Gangnam Station Gate. I was the one who commissioned the Black Parade for that job.”

The young congressman from the Hunter Association meeting—the one who, after seeing the footage of the Rose Princess, had proposed hiring the Black Parade.

That man was him: the Archmage, Ryu Yeon.

“Oh! You were the client for our last mission!” Jae-hee clapped his hands.

The Archmage nodded. “You could say that.”

“I’m sorry. We tried really, really hard, but the results… weren’t great.” Jae-hee glanced nervously at the Archmage. “Everyone did their best, but the enemy was just too strong.”

They had succeeded in capturing the Rose Princess, but many of their elite prisoners had died, and the survivors would have been annihilated if not for the intervention of the New Five Heroes.

The Hunter Association, which had commissioned the mission, had suffered a similar blow. They had saved Gangnam Station, but they’d had to call in the Five Heroes to do it, exposing their shoddy Gate management to the entire world.

“It was an unreasonable request from the start. I have no intention of blaming you.” The Archmage waved a hand dismissively, his gentle eyes scanning Jae-hee. “I didn’t come here to talk about the mission. I simply… took an interest in you.”

“Me? Wait, in me?”

“Yes. It’s fascinating that Ghost has taken on a disciple, and even more fascinating that she’s brought you out with her like this.”

The Archmage’s lips curved into a smile. “I was curious what kind of person you were, so I wanted to speak with you alone.”

“I-I see.” Jae-hee’s eyes darted around.

How was he supposed to introduce himself? A petty thief? The Deck Leader of the first deck? Boy? A premature… no, no, a quick-draw? The guy people say looks like a quokka?

The Archmage watched him flounder with amusement before asking again. “Your wish.”

“Huh?”

“Tell me your wish.”

The Archmage placed a cigarette between his lips and lit it. “I believe that if you know what a person desires, you can know the person. So tell me, Boy.”

“…”

“What is your wish?” Exhaling a long stream of smoke, the Archmage gestured with his eyes. “Who knows? I might just be able to grant it for you.”

Jae-hee blinked blankly.

Wait a minute.

A midnight crossroads.

And someone asking for his wish…

Feels like I’ve had this conversation before? Recently, too…