2 Prologue (Chapter 1)
Somewhere on Earth,
Seoul, twilight,
As his occasional Korean acquaintances and neighbors liked to call him, John Castle, alias Gar Kang-Dae, returned home.
John Castle was a man from northern Europe. Unlike his occidental name suggested, he didn't have anything to do with the military.
He wasn't short, fast, or related to a Frank either.
No, the little Korean sobriquet he was given and that he somewhat enjoyed best described this old yet hardy old man.
Towering close to two meters without shoes, at the height of 198 centimeters, young John was what sports casuals liked to call good-basketball material.
The old man's height never reduced with age.
Instead, it increased by a few centimeters over the years. It was theorized that people couldn't grow after the age of 23, but John was one of those who proved such theories incorrect or to lack evidence.
John wasn't just tall. Though he always lacked reaction speed to become the sportsman he used to dream of, he was built like a bull.
...In places that men could see or wish to unsee. Especially at his current age.
Walking back home with a plastic bag, the 51-year-old John was a bit disgruntled.
Something which he often was at this time of day.
Late afternoons in the beautiful land of Korea were lonely to the recently divorced man.
Thankfully, though he was now an old bachelor, he was still eligible enough. Though not as handsome as others his age were.
John was never handsome, to begin with.
So combined with his balding hair, imposing figure, which scared Asian women, and basic mastership of Korean, he often looked like a desperate occidental creep.
According to the rumors, many of those were all over Asia. In Korea, but in places like Thailand specifically.
If the latter had some success with Thai women, the former type, like John, didn't necessarily.
Korea was the land of K-drama and chaebols. Women's mentality was a little different here. And to get into serious relationships with the right ones, foreigners had to be lucky.
Luck, something which the 51-year-old John had, but not in the areas he wished.
A big pervert, John, however, was a romantic...
...Which caused him to land in this country he barely understood two years ago.
Sighing to himself, when the old man saw the small apartments complex he still owned after his latest and wildest divorce, on the way, he mumbled:
"I still have you, at least..."
The occidental didn't know then that his luck—luck he thought good in areas he wished to swap, would soon reach a peak.
One which was abysmal this time around.
Fortunately, John had no loved ones left or children. So what was about to happen would make nobody sad.
Not even him after he discovers his new and altered fate.
He would only regret some investing habits. And recognize that owning land and living in one of the most violent neighborhoods of Seoul was perhaps a mistake.
In reality and honestly speaking, John could thank his latest ex-wife for such blind life choices and pre-nut decisions...
Love was an exemplary purpose one could have, but turning that purpose into romantic-simpery sparsely led to good outcomes for men.
John Castle, 51 years old and a half, was about to learn that valuable lesson today.
The man not coming to that conclusion earlier was maybe the plan of a greater existence somewhere.
XX
John eventually arrived home. What he called home was a noisy complex filled with tenants and boarders.
The old man didn't care as long as his rent was paid. Often not on time.
Most of his tenants and boarders were university students, cooks, and other juniors with poor or sketchy financial means.
Life was already hard on them, whatever they did to get by. Being a foreigner, one very self-sufficient even before he came to this country, John was an easygoing landlord.
His main source of income was this apartment complex. However, the man was also an online life coach. Some kind of shrink, to be more exhaustive.
Though his personal life left much to be desired, John has been able to help others. Something which was also one of the reasons he could meet different people in this country.
English being a universal language, the few Koreans and substantial foreigners who sought its services online also spoke it.
His reputation and achievements as a life coach couldn't be deemed top-notch. But John's counseling career has been somewhat fulfilling since he graduated from Denmark three decades ago.
Mister John Castle wasn't fully Danish, but his blood had Viking genes.
However, he often forgot that fact because he considered himself more Irish than anything else.
Yes, John's ancestry was complicated. And he had many other origins.
...That said, the old man was definitely not a history graduate.
Otherwise, he would have known that those Viking genes could come from Denmark and Ireland.
Lacking knowledge in fields, this time more relevant to his current Korean circumstances, John climbed the stairs to his apartment.
The complex had revolving and cruising stairs. If they lived above the third floor, residents had to complete a circle or more around the building to reach their destinations.
Unbothered by the usual noises, sometimes musical, sometimes sexual, John reached the last and fifth floor.
Though the old man was lonely, a few moans from immature youngsters wouldn't disturb him.
He lived around all kinds of tenants for two years.
And speaking of tenants, people he didn't identify appeared in his view when he was done climbing.
For reasons he didn't want to think of, the entire floor he remodeled and lived on belonged solely to him.
Who were these people then?
He saw a group of men leaning their backs on the balcony's railings as if they were waiting for something or someone.
One of them, wearing a black suit, and sporting a neck tattoo, was anxiously staring at a golden watch.
The moment the tall occidental appeared, and he saw him, that apparent anxiety left his face, and he smirked.
"Gar Kang-Dae? Or should I say, John Castle?" The man who looked like a genteel or rather sophisticated crook turned to face John and asked.
"That's me...What business do you have?" The tall and bulky foreigner frowned and replied. Having lived in the country for years and watching the occasional K-drama, John took notice of something.
The visitors and their faces, though smiling, didn't look friendly.
"Business?" The man glanced at his men when John said. He didn't laugh with them when they did. Instead, he smiled and replied in fluent Korean:
"Gar Kang-Dae, Gar Kang-Dae...Let me see..." Turning his face to the roof, he looked up and back before smirking. Then he said, "If you want to directly talk about our business, what about this building?"
"What about it?" John scowled. One would have to be a retard not to take a guess.
..
Minutes later,
John and the group of classy mobs moved to a place filled with warehouses. The neighborhood was industrial, so there were countless warehouses besides a port and its waters.
One of the worst things to happen as a landlord was having your property getting smashed or a fighting scandal.
The old John considered calling the police earlier. But when the mob leader explained what was happening, he decided not to.
The guys he now recognized as loan sharks, and scammers for that matter, stood in line before him. Some were searching their pockets after a warning.
Inside there were small knives. Small but probably long enough to kill the foreigner with multiple wounds.
Gunfighting laws were not to be trifled with in the country, so most people living the life they did chose sharp or blunt weapons instead.
Yes, sharpies like those he was facing now, thieves, and even serial killers in Korea were scared of using guns. It was no surprise considering the sentences one would abide by if caught by the police.
John had been in many dangerous fights in Ireland but didn't immediately do anything impetuous.
After the intimidating maneuvers, the mob leader, seeing that John was clever or maybe overly secure in his skills not to directly resort to calling the police, said:
"Do you know why you are here and what we want, Gar Kang-Dae?"
"Isn't it just to get a room? I have many of those, tell me which one you want to buy, and I'll give you a friend's price." The old man answered with a hint of sarcasm. His broken accent made his words wittier. "I don't usually drink, but if you do, we can all share a glass of soju after to celebrate."
He was willing to make concessions though he was in no urgency to sell his property. Something that those guys seemed to want. And in all, likeliness at a low price.
"You're funny, John Castle. Your Korean name is probably well-earned in this neighborhood." The man chuckled. But he continued with a serious, unrelenting expression, "But enough jokes. What we want...No, I meant what we own already is your building."
"What?" John, confused by the man's words, almost laughed out loud.
Own his complex? What nonsense was he speaking about?
"Are you bad of ear, maybe?" The mob leader chuckled. "Didn't you know that men settle their family's and woman's debts in this country?"
"..." Hearing the man say, the foreigner who recently divorced a spending, gold-digging vixen had a bad feeling.
It couldn't be...
"Haha, you seem to have realized something. I'll let you call your wife if you need some time to discuss the details. We won't go anywhere, be assured." After a mocking laugh, the man ordered one of his men to light up a cigarette for him.
"Are you hinting at my ex-wife? I don't know what debt she owed you, but you can't work like that. We've been divorced for over a month now."
The man only shrugged. No reply was offered as he visibly didn't care.
Loan sharks only went where there was immediate liquidity. Though it was harsh saying so, even John understood that his ex-wife had probably nothing to show except her well-drawn shape right now.
She spent money too fast and didn't earn it back at the same pace.
"..." When he began smoking peacefully and patiently, John, a bit panicked now, took out his phone.
Dialing a number, he waited for a communication sound. However, his ex-wife Natasha Kim, a half-Korean, apparently didn't want to pick up.
'Fuck! You're really going to do this to me, Natasha?'
"No answer?" When John's anxiety displayed on his face, the loan shark chief, now closer to an inhumane gangster in John's mind, asked.
"No," John answered before continuing. He didn't want to beg, but this situation or misunderstanding these guys didn't give no shit about would only escalate, even if he fought and won. "Please, give me a day. No, a week or two so I can reach her to discuss this..."
"..." The man stayed silent.
After a pin-drop silence, when he was done thinking, he said, butchering John's name with his pronunciation:
"I thought you smarter, John Castle. But then again, if you were wise, you wouldn't end up in such a situation.
Do you think I would come with so many men if it was just about the money? Haha...what a joke.
Let me ask again. Are you going to give up the building or not?"
"...No. I'm sorry I can't; that's my livelihood." John's face went a little pale but still said. He was not as sorry as he articulated, just worried...
...Well, if 'just' was an appropriate word for the deep shit he found himself in.
..
Moments later,
"Can all foreigners take a beating like you do?" Smoking another cigarette, the loan shark leader asked. John was kneeling in front of him, tied and his face bloody. "You're full of surprises, mister Castle."
"..." John was in too much pain to speak back.
He fought and disabled four thugs before he was stabbed and taken down. Because he wasn't as fast as he liked, he rarely got out of a fight without injuries.
This evening, however, it didn't seem that he would leave with his life.
"...Well, if you don't want to make this more entertaining than it had been so far, let's end this." The mob leader dropped his cigarette and frowned. For some reason, John felt as if he had offended that guy.
Was he just a loan shark?
Watching the lunatic nodding to one of his men in the back, John despaired. He was extremely unwilling to accept such a stupid end but even less ready to throw away his livelihood.
At that moment,
The old man didn't know that his life wouldn't have taken such an unforeseen turn if he had made a more sensible choice and wasn't courageous enough to stand up to the evil band of crooks.
