Criminal Judge

Chapter 2: Korea

Ethan's face was emotionless as he dragged his luggage through the sprawling embassy, trying to find the exit.

Too big. Just too big! he thought, his eyes scanning the endless hallways. He couldn't help but feel unimpressed. For all its size, the embassy seemed painfully ordinary to him.

As he wrestled with his growing frustration, something—or someone—caught his attention. From the corner of his eye, he saw a woman. No, an angel, he thought bitterly, as everything seemed to slow down. But before he could process the moment, she was suddenly closer, much closer.

"Hello!" she called out, breaking the spell.

"Oh, uh… yeah. Hi," Ethan muttered, managing a faint, almost mechanical smile.

"You were so lost; that's the fifth time I've seen you circle the same spot," she said with a warm grin, her voice lilting. Her cheerfulness gave Ethan the chance to take in her appearance more carefully. She was slim, poised, and controlled, with a bright energy that seemed effortless. Yet, to him, she was just another face in a foreign place.

"Yeah," he replied, his tone cold and curt.

"No worries! Are you looking for something? You seem like you've been wandering for hours. Trust me, you don't want to get stuck here," she said, her grin unwavering.

" The exit, where?" Ethan replied coldly, his words clipped.

"Mr man, in Korea here, you gotta embrace the word -- PLEASE buh no worries I'd guide you anuways" she said cheerfully, turning to guide him.

Ethan said nothing but followed her but she was crossing the limits, no one treated him like this back at the Filipinos, he was treated like a God, and here she was, telling him to say...PLEASE.

Under her lead, they found the exit with surprising ease. As they stood at the embassy doors, she turned to him.

"Hey, can I know your name?" she asked, her smile still present.

Ethan paused, glancing at her briefly before looking away. "Ethan," he answered coldly.

"I'm Sun-deok. Nice to meet you, Ethan. I hope we see each other again," she said with a soft laugh.

"Yeah," Ethan replied, his tone indifferent.

Outside, he focused on the street ahead. The wide, bustling road caught his attention—it was strangely beautiful. As he waited for the cab Bryan had arranged. Bryan was one of the few blacks he had chosen to mingle with on one of his travels to the United states. Sun-deok eventually waved goodbye, leaving him alone.

The car arrived half an hour later. As soon as Ethan entered, he spoke in a monotone voice. "What took you so long?"

The driver muttered an apology, but Ethan ignored him, his attention fixed on the view outside. The streets of Korea were alive with energy—restaurants, shops, and people filled every corner. It was all foreign to him, yet vaguely fascinating.

The cab finally stopped in front of a rundown motel. Ethan stepped out, scanning the building with a mixture of disdain and resignation.

Screech!

Ethan froze as the sound of tires peeling away drew his attention. He turned just in time to see the cab speeding off, his luggage still inside.

"Damn. Is Korea always like this?" he muttered coldly. While the bags didn't matter much, it left a sour taste in his mouth. His first impression of the country wasn't great.

“I’ll find you, and I'll kill you” Ethan muffled a growl in annoyance.

He turned back to the motel. It was passable, though clearly aimed at the desperate and downtrodden. For tonight, it would have to do. He stepped inside, the air carrying a surprising warmth that contrasted with the shabby exterior.

The reception area was sparse but functional—a narrow corridor led him to the first door on the left, labeled RECEPTION. He knocked.

"Come in," a lifeless voice called out.

Ethan entered, finding himself in a simple office. An old man sat behind a desk, his white hair and weary demeanor confirming his age. A dusty shelf stood against the wall, and there were only two chairs for visitors.

"Good evening. I need a room for the night," Ethan said, his voice steady as he sat down.

The man nodded, smiling faintly. "All right," he said, retrieving a form and pen from a drawer. He filled out part of it before sliding it across the desk. "Please sign here once you confirm the price."

Ethan barely glanced at the paper before signing. The cost didn't matter—he'd be gone tomorrow.

"You didn't write your surname," the man observed, though his tone was light. "But it's fine. I'm Kim Jin-woo. Nice to meet you."

Kim extended his hand. Ethan shook it briefly, the gesture making him uneasy.

"Follow me. I'll show you to your room," Kim said, leading him out.

Ethan followed without a word, his face as cold as ever.

---

After a strangely silent journey, accompanied only by the sound of majestic shoes striking the floor in sequence, Ethan and Kim arrived at a room near the end of the corridor.

"Here's your room, Mr. Ethan," Kim announced.

"Thank you," Ethan replied, his voice devoid of emotion as he entered the room and shut the door behind him.

The room was simple but impressive. There was a large bed, a toilet, a reading table, and a dressing table. Additionally, there was a shelf for books, one for clothes, and another for shoes. For the first time in his life, this room actually satisfied him. He wished he could stay here for now and later go to Kim to alter the agreement in the morning. But for now, he needed rest. He approached the table and noticed a book labeled 'DIARY.' Strangely, no one had written in it. He flipped to the 24th of October, 2024—the current date—and began to write.

---

"Really, I don't know why all of this is happening to me or how I turned into this cold-blooded mafia personality. You'd have to forgive me, Mum. I'm sorry, but I had no choice. Not everyone is like you—some people's good bodies are coated in bad intentions. I'm sorry, Mum. I'm currently in Korea and I'll try to figure this out. Thanks, Mum. I love you. Goodnight for now."

Ethan looked at his write-up satisfied and swiftly took his shower before he went to sleep, he'd have to go get clothes tomorrow, all of his belongings were stolen.