Chapter 34: The Murder of a Threat

Guk Chhol awoke in a dimly lit garage covered in plastic, where the air was thick with the smell of rust and something bitter. His heart pounded like a hammer on an anvil, and confusion reigned in his mind. He jerked, but the ropes binding his hands and feet wouldn't budge. In a panic, he began to struggle, but each movement only worsened his predicament.

"Hey, calm down," a cold voice echoed. Ming You, a smirk on his lips, stood in the corner, illuminated by a dim light. His eyes sparkled like a predator ready to pounce. "You don't want your life to end here, in this hole, do you?"

Guk Chhol gasped, looking at him.

"What do you want?" he growled, fear evident in his eyes and voice. "I'm innocent!"

Ming You stepped closer, his expression turning serious as if he had just made a decision.

"And what are you willing to give for your freedom?" he asked, as if it were a standard business conversation. "Do you have anything of value?"

Guk Chhol, realizing his life hung by a thread, began to flail in his thoughts.

"I have nothing of value," he uttered, his voice trembling. "I'm just an ordinary man. I have no money, no connections!"

Ming You leaned in, his face closer, as if searching for sincerity in Guk Chhol's eyes.

"Ordinary man?" he scoffed. "You know, I don't like ordinary people. They're too predictable and cling to their pathetic moral values."

Guk Chhol felt a chill wash over him.

"Please, listen to me! I can… I can do anything!"

But his words didn't reach Ming You. A kitchen knife glinted in his hand, pulled from his belt.

"W-wait, hold on, listen! I-I…" Guk Chhol didn't even finish his sentence when Ming You, with the calmness of a professional, plunged the knife into his throat.

Blood gushed out like from a broken faucet, and Guk Chhol had no time to scream or plead for mercy. His eyes widened in horror, but there was no life left in them.

Ming You stepped back, watching as life drained from Guk Chhol's body.

"I've won," he said, dragging the blade of the bloodied kitchen knife across the edge, as if cleaning it of evidence.

Setting the kitchen knife aside, Ming You began to strip the clothes from the corpse and dismember it. Cutting piece by piece, slicing organs and crunching bones and teeth, he placed the remains into garbage bags.

Once finished with the body, Ming You started wrapping the plastic and putting that into garbage bags as well. In total, he ended up with six bags of 'trash'. When Ming You carried the garbage bags to the door, he began shining a UV flashlight. After checking every square inch, he left the premises and pulled out his phone.

The clock on the phone read four in the morning when Ming You exited the abandoned garage, as if nothing had happened. His steps were quiet, like the rustle of autumn leaves. In his hands, he held six black garbage bags that seemed full not only of trash but of his own secrets. Inside each bag lay the remains of Guk Chhol, as if he were merely part of a failed experiment, not a man with dreams and fears.

Ming You paused for a moment, inhaling the fresh morning air laced with the scent of decay. He looked up at the sky, veiled in clouds, and it seemed even the stars were hiding from his gaze.

"It's not the time for romance," he muttered to himself, tossing the bags into a van that looked just like his soul — tattered but functional.

The van roared to life, its engine rumbling as if protesting the early wake-up call. Ming You paid no mind.

Parking by the dumpsters, he exited the vehicle and, looking at the world around him as if it were a painting with all the colors blurred, began pulling out the bags. Each bag was heavy, but he felt nothing but relief.

"So much trash," he said emotionlessly aloud.

"Hey, are you fucking crazy?" a voice came from the darkness. It was a local homeless man who seemed to think the morning was the perfect time to observe others' affairs.

"Trash," Ming You replied, not bothering to look up. "You wouldn't understand."

"And you seem to not realize that trash isn't your only problem," the homeless man chuckled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You clearly don't know what real problems look like."

Ming You turned, his face becoming stone-cold. "Problems are what you leave behind when you can't solve your issues," he said, his voice devoid of emotion, but in his mind, a new plan was rapidly forming. "By the way, want me to help you? I'll give you some money, and all you need to do is take a few steps."

Ming You pulled a thick wad of cash from his pocket. The homeless man was quite surprised and jumped up suddenly.

"Fuck, in kind? Tell me what to do!"

"See that alley?" Ming You pointed, "I'll toss these hundred thousand won over there, and your job is to run and grab them within ten seconds. Deal?"

"Let's do it! I'm ready!" the homeless man replied, energized.

"On three. One, two… Three!" Ming You threw the wad of cash into the farthest part of the alley.

The homeless man bolted at full speed and in less than five seconds leaped into a shallow puddle, grabbing the bundle of cash.

"Yes! Thank yo…" Before he could finish his gratitude, Ming You plunged the kitchen knife into his back.

"Cough…" The homeless man coughed up blood, and his life gradually faded.

Ming You withdrew the knife from his back and flipped the homeless man over, covering him with a piss-stained blanket and cardboard. He also stabbed the knife into the cash bundle, and they stuck to the bloodied knife like shish kebabs on a skewer. Ming You tossed the money into the dumpster and, looking around, returned to his van.

"It's not that I killed you over some pathetic principles or for fun; I just don't need witnesses — I'm that kind of neat freak. In reality, I didn't want to kill you; I even slightly respect people like you, as such free individuals stand against the pathetic society that shackles themselves with miserable morals. But unfortunately, in this world, if you don't follow the script laid out by society, no one will look for your corpse, and your freedom won't withstand the pressure. Therefore, there's no point in breaking those limiting chains; in this society, they must be used. Used against the very society that created those restrictions and stomped into the ground in that manner," Ming You mentally conversed as he drove home.

When he returned to his rented apartment, Ming You took a shower. The water flowed over his body, washing away not just the blood but also the memories. A scene flashed in his mind of how he killed his uncle and aunt, but he felt nothing and changed into clean clothes, as if putting on a new mask, and took his school backpack before heading outside.

The school greeted him with its usual noise and bustle. Ming You walked confidently, as if he knew what awaited him. He calmly entered the school gates, for everything that happened overnight remained outside this place. He was just Ming You — an ordinary student with an extraordinary past.

Ming You entered the school gym, which resembled an anthill: players, warmed up from practice, scrambled around, tossing the ball as if it were their only connection to reality. Ming You walked in, and for a moment, everyone froze. He was like a shadow gliding through the light — cold, calculating, with a smirk that could make anyone believe in his friendliness.

"Hey, Ming You!" shouted Lu Shen, winking. "You came to teach us how to score or how to properly hold the ball between our legs?"

"If you can't hold the ball between your legs, Lu," Ming You replied, his voice steady like the surface of a lake, "maybe you should think about changing sports."

"Oh, come on!" Haru Lin chimed in, skillfully winking as he picked up the joke. "Or maybe you just need to take lessons from Ming You? After all, you are the most experienced among us!"

Ming You didn't respond; his eyes scanned the team. Jun Ho, always ready for a discussion, sat on the bench, leaning against the wall with a serious expression.

"What's on your mind, Ming You?" he asked, looking at his captain with interest.

"Listen," Ming You began, gathering the team's attention. "Tomorrow, we have a game against Siomo. We know they have Guk Chhol. This guy is a sharpshooter, and if we don't stop him right from the start, we're in for a total disaster."

Lu Shen, not missing a chance, interjected: "Oh, so that's the guy who scores so much that we all end up wet in our pants?"

"If you don't shut up, I'll shove a ball down your throat," Haru shot back, and the team's laughter erupted like a gunshot.

Ming You, ignoring their jokes, continued: "We're going to play a 2-3 scheme. Hong Ren, you'll be on Guk Chhol. Don't let him breathe. If he gets the ball, he'll kill us. Jun Ho, you'll be backing him up."

"I'm ready," Jun Ho replied, his eyes shining with determination.

"Haru, you'll be grabbing the ball after shots. Don't give them second chances. And you, Lu Shen," Ming You looked at him with a feigned smirk, "just don't get in the way."

"Oh, I always get in the way," Lu Shen replied sarcastically, winking. "It's my superpower."

Ming You crossed his arms behind his back, his gaze turning cold as a steel knife. "Don't forget that the game isn't just about physics. It's psychology. You need to make them think they're weaker than they really are. Your job is to throw them off balance."

"How do you propose we do that?" Jun Ho asked, his voice becoming serious.

"We'll play with their expectations. If they think we're going to attack, we'll defend. If they're confident of their victory, we'll take a step back and let them fall into their own trap."

"You're a damn genius," Lu Shen said, his joking tone shifting to genuine admiration.

"And you, Lu, just don't forget your fucking jabs," Haru Lin added, laughing. "They might distract the opponent."

Ming You nodded silently, mentally conversing:

"I know the team is ready. Their laughter, their energy — that's what I can use. After all, I'm an actor on this stage, and they are my performers."

"And remember," he added this time aloud, looking each one in the eye, "tomorrow we're not just playing. We're destroying. Destroying their hopes, their dreams."

The team froze, and then approving shouts erupted. Ming You smiled. This was his game, and he knew he would win, for there was no Guk Chhol anymore.

After practice, the Yoshido team arrived at the stadium. The floodlights blinded them, and the stands filled with spectators. Ming You, with a cold smile on his face, walked down the corridor to the basketball court. He knew his team was ready for battle. Behind him followed Jun Ho, Lu Shen, Haru Lin, and Hong Ren — each a unique element of this mechanism.

"Listen," Jun Ho began, "I thought that if we start with a fast attack, we can throw them off. They look like they just came out of a mental hospital."

"Yeah, and don't forget they definitely have a couple of players who look like they don't know what a ball is," Lu Shen added, winking at Haru. "I'd suggest they take some lessons. Or at least a few tips on how not to look like they just came out of the shower."

"Don't forget that in the shower, you also don't look too appealing," Haru replied, laughing. "But seriously, let's just make sure they don't understand what's happening. Besides, we're playing against sharpshooters, not to mention their ace."

Ming You stopped, turning to his teammates. His eyes sparkled, reading confidence mixed with a hint of madness.

"Guys," he said, his voice low and cold, "remember that there's no room for pity in this game. We're here to take their soul. And if they look worried, that means it's our advantage."

Hong Ren, standing off to the side, nodded; his indifference concealed admiration. He always knew Ming You was not just a player but a true strategist.

"And what if they suddenly start playing as if they have even a drop of brains? They're pretty damn accurate!" Lu Shen asked, winking at Haru Lin, who, as always, was ready to tease him.

"Then we'll just show them what real basketball is," Haru replied, his voice full of confidence. "I'm ready to make them a target."

The Yoshido team began warming up, their movements synchronized and confident. Ming You skillfully dribbled the ball, his face remaining still, as if he were an actor in a drama where every emotion was carefully calibrated.

Meanwhile, the Siomo team stood in the corner, their faces expressing tension and fear. One player, a tall guy with an uncertain smile, looked at his teammates.

"Hey, what the hell happened to Guk Chhol?" he said, his voice trembling.

"Maybe he just doesn't want to waste time on such weaklings," another replied, gripping the ball. "We just need to focus on our game."

Ming You, catching their conversation, smirked to himself:

"The fear of others is my best ally."

He turned back to the Yoshido team and said:

"Remember, guys, their fear is our weapon. And today, we'll make sure they feel it."

The referee, standing at the edge of the court, raised the whistle. Ming You and his team formed a circle, preparing for the game to start. At that moment, time froze, and all eyes were on them.

The players lined up against each other, and the referee blew the whistle to start the jump ball.