Chapter 4.1

Chapter 4.1

Prison life was a daily rehearsal of the previous day and a preview of the next. Each day rolled by like clockwork. Wake-up was at 6:30 a.m., followed by roll call, and then meals were served in portions distributed to each cell. Naturally, washing the dishes fell entirely to me.

After meals, the inmates in the shared cell went to their assigned work areas for labor. In the mornings, I did simple tasks like packing disposable chopsticks into plastic wrap; in the afternoons, I sewed.

Prison labor was supposed to help with finding jobs after release, so everyone wanted to do things like carpentry or hairdressing, but that didn’t matter to me. I had no intention of staying in this body until my release anyway.

Being fairly perceptive, I spent a few more days getting a feel for how the prison operated. And I set my priorities. The things I needed most right now, the things that would help me endure.

“Doctor, could you maybe find out some news about the singer Geummi? I’m a fan…”

“Yeohee-ssi, don’t waste your time on such worldly things. This is the time the Lord has given you to purify your soul.”

The doctor in the infirmary responded to my request like that. Damn it, calling me worldly.

As expected, there wasn’t even a television in the cell, let alone anything to get news from the outside. I wanted to make a phone call to the company, but unless you were dead or close to it, outside calls were forbidden. Even then, you needed the guard’s permission.

Being physically confined was frustrating enough, but the inability to communicate with anyone outside this prison was even more agonizing.

I had hoped that if Ham Yeohee’s family or friends came for a visit, I could ask them for news, but over a month passed, and no call came for a visitor to see Inmate No. 7059.

I grew increasingly anxious.

***

After lunch distribution, before starting the afternoon work, we were given a short time to get some fresh air in the exercise yard. The so-called exercise yard was just a patch of dirt, but it was the only time we could breathe outside air, so everyone, including me, looked forward to it.

The sunlight was faint, and the breeze touching my skin was cold, but there was air flowing, not stagnant. Like someone desperate to feel alive, I breathed it in as deeply as I could.

The hazy sky stretched wide open, but all around were walls. My gaze landed on the sharp, pointed barbed wire atop the high fence.

It didn’t even seem like anyone would try to climb that wall, yet there stood a watchtower, as if determined not to let a single person escape. Unless you could fly, there was no way out of here.

They say humans are creatures of adaptation, and I was already getting used to this place, which made me sick to my stomach. I sat down and leaned against the wall. The dim sunlight hit my forehead.

Thud. Something fell at my feet. Looking down, I saw a packet of Apollo snacks, with a playful character drawn on it, rustling in the winter breeze. I looked up to see Eyes, her short bob tied into two bouncy pigtails, standing there.

“…What’s this?”

“Eat it.”

“…”

“It’s not poisoned, just eat it.”

When I just stared without responding, Eyes crouched beside me and playfully placed the Apollo packet on my foot. I lowered my gaze to look at it.

When was the last time I had something sweet? Snacks like this were incredibly rare in here. Obviously, everything cost money.

I hadn’t done anything to earn such kindness from Eyes. Never accept someone’s favor without a reason. That was one of the truths I’d learned in my singing career. Especially in a place like this, crawling with sinners.

“No thanks, take it back. I’m not eating it.”

“I tend to talk nonsense sometimes. When that feeling comes over me, my head just spins like this.”

Wasn’t she locked up for scamming people as a shaman? What a blatant lie. As if reading my thoughts, Eyes continued awkwardly.

“No, no, whatever I said, just don’t take it seriously. …And, well, I kinda felt good when you flipped off Wangnyeo.”

So this was an apology for something she said before and a thank-you for the satisfaction of seeing Wangnyeo get hers. Of course, that stunt left my lip split.

Her words from that day naturally flashed through my mind.

“Some other b*tch’s taken over, huh?”

I could ignore talk of omens or fortunes, but this was something I couldn’t let slide. I hesitated before speaking.

“…Eyes-ssi, about what you said that day—”

“Oh, it’s Deputy Ki.”

Eyes whispered, turning her gaze. I followed her squinting eyes and turned my head.

It must’ve been shift change time, as a tall figure emerged from the iron gate of the guardhouse. Step, step. As the long legs crossed the yard, Deputy Ki’s full form came into view under the damp winter sunlight. I’d thought he was a big guy that day, but seeing him in broad daylight struck me anew.

When I performed at nightclubs or events, my manager alone wasn’t enough for security, so the company often hired big guys.

Deputy Ki was a head taller than them, with long legs, broad shoulders that could carry a couple sacks of rice with ease, and—odd as it sounds—a physique that screamed man. 

Even in what must’ve been standard guard attire: black utility pants, matte shoes, a uniform shirt, and a navy insulated jacket, he looked surprisingly sharp. Almost elegant as if the clothes were tailored for him. The man’s cap was pulled low, and at his waist hung the baton that had struck my shoulder blade that day.

“That baengchungi* got one hell of a look, doesn’t he?”

“…Baengchungi?”

*“뱅충이” (baengchungi) – slang. A mocking or teasing term, roughly meaning something like “clueless guy,” “awkward stiff,” or “dumb brick.”

“Deputy Ki, I mean.”

Eyes gave a sly nod.

“He’s a total novice. They say even if you hand it to him, he wouldn’t know what to do. Though if you ask me, it’s not that he can’t, it’s that he won’t.”

“…”

“Everyone wants a piece of Deputy Ki. Look.”

As Eyes said, the atmosphere in the yard, which had been as wilted as dead grass, had shifted noticeably.

From the moment Deputy Ki stepped out of the guardhouse, subtle, suggestive glances began to hover around him. Some inmates blatantly sized him up from head to toe.

One young woman, her hair braided to one side, twisted it nervously, staring at Deputy Ki without blinking, as if hoping to catch his eye.

Oblivious to it all, Deputy Ki crossed the yard with steady steps, never turning his head carelessly.