August 14, 2014

  Military prosecutor Jang Cheol-dae surveyed the infirmary in the abandoned building. Peeling walls were plastered with papers, and a surgical bed sat in one corner, flanked by surgical tools and a patient monitor displaying vitals. Jang Cheol-dae approached the wall of papers. Pinned there were photocopied photos of people, all unfamiliar names: Gamagogi, Nagato Soren, Park Sung-jae, Lee Byeong-su, Lee Yeol-gi, Ko A-young, Ko Ye-eun, Song Jae-seob, Kim Dae-hyun, Baek Hyung-jin, and Hinata. Some had red X’s marked across them, while others were clean, with addresses and phone numbers listed. “…What are these?”

  Gamamusa glanced back. “Oh, those? People who’ll help me in the future. The ones with X’s are dead; the clean photos are the living.” Jang Cheol-dae stared, incredulous. “…Are these really people you know? You aware collecting personal info is illegal?” Gamamusa nodded. “Yup, it’s personal info, alright. I tapped it from global undersea internet cables, so I guess I’m violating national security laws. Of these, I only personally know three: Gamagogi, Ko A-young, and Teacher Hinata.” Jang Cheol-dae, unable to get mad at Gamamusa’s brazenness, scratched his head awkwardly. Gamamusa pointed to the surgical bed. “…Come here. I’ve got something to show you.”

  …

  May 26, 2009

  Ko A-young stared at Gamamusa, dumbfounded. “…So, this is supposed to be you?” She scrutinized the document he’d handed her, which showed a photocopied image of Gamamusa aged to look 40. He shrugged. “…I pulled some strings with a professor appointment. I faked my ID—canceled when my father adopted me in Japan—to tweak my age and add some academic credentials. Passed myself off as a Hiroshima University professor. What do you think? Kinda look like my dad?” Ko A-young flicked his forehead. “…Idiot, how far do you think this’ll get you? In Korea, even professors need connections. Who’d hire an unknown? And a kid who’s never been to college becoming a professor? That’s absurd.” Gamamusa rubbed his forehead. “…That’s why I’m applying to no-name universities. I fooled immigration to get South Korean citizenship—think I’ll fail a university vetting? I know the right people.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Ko A-young sighed, smacking his back. “…Ugh, you’re lucky if no one calls you out. Keep faking identities, and you’ll end up in trouble. Do you really need to go this far to recruit people?” Gamamusa nodded. “…Yeah, I do. To prepare for my cause, I need people—lots of them. We’re in a dump like this now, but with more people, we’ll have to move headquarters.” He glanced around. The parlor of the abandoned house, where they stood, was barely fit for any organization. Ko A-young looked at him with concern. “…Fine, but what about using dead people’s identities? Won’t that raise suspicions?” Gamamusa nodded. “Plenty of people die without death or missing person reports. Since we’ve got no ties to them, no one will suspect us.”

  Gamamusa took Ko A-young’s hand and led her to the infirmary, where a surgical bed awaited. “…Still not done? I thought I’d seen everything in this creepy place.” Gamamusa shook his head. “…This is what I want to show you. Nothing else matters.” He approached the surgical bed and powered on the patient monitor. Vital signs flickered to life. “…I was gonna try this on Jae-seob first, but looks like you’re up. Lie down.” Ko A-young’s arms trembled as she backed away. “…What’s that? What… are you doing?” Gamamusa grinned. “I’m gonna implant a dopamine device in your brain. It’ll boost your work efficiency. We need that for the organization.” He beckoned. “Come on, A-young. Hurry.”

  https://m.novel.naver.com/challenge/detail?novelId=1180586&volumeNo=67#nafullscreen