Then, one of the children, a small boy with a bright red ball clutched in his hand, suddenly pointed a chubby finger.
“Look! It’s Jung Yoon hyung!” he shrieked with unbridled excitement.
The other children, who had been playing a boisterous game of tag, immediately paused, their attention drawn to the newly arrived figure.
Jung Rok, who had just knelt to tie the shoelace of a particularly energetic toddler, slowly straightened up.
He had been holding the toddler in his arms, providing a brief respite from the chaotic play, and now gently set the child down.
His gaze, initially fixed on the squirming shoelace, finally lifted and swiveled towards where the boy was pointing.
His eyes, a moment ago filled with a playful warmth, now held a flicker of surprise as they landed on Jung Yoon.
He casually glanced at the watch on his wrist, a well-worn timepiece with a sturdy leather strap, and then stretched, a slow, deliberate movement that rippled through his broad shoulders.
A small yawn escaped him, quickly covered by a hand.
“Alright, everyone,” he announced with a theatrical sigh, his voice carrying easily across the small playground, “Today’s closing time for business. Officer Woo is here to arrest me for illegal operation, so I gotta go!”
He winked conspiratorially at the children, who giggled in response, some even mimicking his stretch.
Just as the last echoes of Jung Rok’s playful announcement faded, a sudden, loud “Bwoop!” erupted from the direction of the street.
It was a rather startling sound, almost like a comedic honk.
Jung Rok, still in his mock-serious pose, blinked once, then turned his head, his eyes narrowing playfully at the source of the noise.
He caught sight of Jung Yoon, who stood a few feet away, a clear, almost exasperated look on his face.
“Officer Woo,” Jung Rok muttered under his breath, though loud enough for the children nearby to hear, “he’s doing this on purpose, right?”
He made a comically serious face, glancing at the loudly shouting child, who now seemed to be enjoying the spectacle.
Jung Yoon, taking a few quick strides, closed the distance between them. “Team Leader,” Jung Yoon said, his tone a mix of reproach and thinly veiled amusement, “are you doing this on purpose? What are you doing here, exactly?”
As Jung Yoon approached him and lightly touched his shoulder, a familiar gesture of camaraderie mixed with gentle exasperation, Jung Rok pretended not to notice, his gaze darting away as if suddenly fascinated by a distant cloud formation.
Jung Yoon sighed heavily, a sound that conveyed a deep sense of resignation. It was clear that both of them were equally embarrassed by the public display, though Jung Rok seemed to be enjoying the discomfort more than Jung Yoon.
Jung Yoon had told Jung Rok, somewhat reluctantly, that he would only sleep for two hours, yet here he was, having clearly ended up sprawled out alone, sleeping far longer than intended.
This unexpected show of ‘favor’ from Jung Rok, while perhaps well-intentioned, left Jung Yoon feeling a complex mix of gratitude and stifled annoyance.
He was grateful for the rest, but also deeply uncomfortable with the implications of Jung Rok’s casual disregard for their shared schedule and the potential for trouble.
He was curious as to why Jung Rok kept acting this way, this blend of casual indifference and surprising thoughtfulness.
And what was that nagging sense of déjà vu he had felt yesterday?
It was a fleeting, unsettling feeling, just at the edge of his memory, and he couldn’t quite place it.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?”
Jung Yoon asked, his voice now colder, a clear edge of irritation in his tone.
Jung Rok, abandoning his feigned distraction, scratched the back of his head with a sheepish grin.
“I figured I wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway,” he confessed, his voice surprisingly gentle.
“So I just left one of us to get some good sleep. It’s better than both of us getting a bad night’s sleep and ruining the whole day, wouldn’t you say?”
He offered a small, almost innocent shrug.
“Even so,” Jung Yoon began, his voice still tightly controlled, “working after staying up all night…”
He trailed off, the implicit question hanging in the air.
Jung Rok, however, simply chuckled.
“Well, if I doze off in the middle of our work, Officer Woo will just have to carry me,” he declared, striking a dramatic pose.
He then mimicked a zombie, complete with shuffling feet and outstretched arms, which sent the children behind him into fits of laughter, clapping their hands and cheering him on.
“Grrr!”
Jung Rok growled playfully, spinning around abruptly and reaching out his arms to the children, chasing them with mock ferocity.
“Kyaak!”
The children shrieked in delight, scattering in various directions, some clinging to the sturdy wooden pillars of the pavilion, stomping their feet in exaggerated fear.
One of the girls, a particularly observant child with uniquely twisted braids adorned with colorful beads, pointed at Jung Rok and piped up, “That’s a tiger! Not a zombie!”
She proudly pointed out Jung Rok’s theatrical mistake, a tiny, confident frown on her face.
“Kids these days are reeaally too picky,” Jung Rok grumbled good-naturedly, turning to Jung Yoon, his face now etched with a theatrical weariness.
Despite his mock complaints, he seemed immensely happy, a genuine sparkle in his eyes.
Jung Yoon watched him, a faint smile playing on his lips.
He thought that Jung Rok and the children were truly on a similar level, their playful energy perfectly aligned.
He then pressed his hand to his forehead, a gesture of mock exasperation.
“Don’t change the subject, Team Leader,” Jung Yoon said, his voice regaining some of its earlier sternness.
“Are you really going to be okay? We have a lot to do today, remember?”
He gestured vaguely in the direction of the village, the unspoken tasks looming large.
Jung Rok, however, remained unfazed.
“If I fall asleep while walking, Officer Woo will carry me,” he repeated, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“I’m not joking, you know.”
Jung Yoon sighed again, a deeper, more resigned sound this time.
“Carrying you is no problem,” he conceded, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards slightly.
“But… Sigh, seriously. Okay. If you’re really struggling, just let me know.”
He finally relented, knowing it was futile to argue further with Jung Rok’s particular brand of stubbornness.
“Really?”
Jung Rok’s eyes widened, a hopeful glint in them.
“Yes, really,” Jung Yoon affirmed, though he quickly added, “But I won’t put you down gently, mind you.”
He tried to sound threatening, but there was a hint of a smile in his voice.
There was no point in arguing further as the time that had already passed couldn’t be undone.
He didn’t have time to waste on something unproductive, something that wouldn’t advance their case.
He regretted the unnecessarily wasted time, the moments that could have been spent making progress.
This kind of delay, he knew, only benefited the culprit, giving them more time and opportunity.
Jung Yoon stood with his back to Jung Rok, who was still staring intently at him, and looked out at the tranquil village scenery, his mind already shifting to the task at hand.
“The kids say their parents told them they have to have a feast,” Jung Rok said suddenly, breaking the silence.
Jung Yoon turned, surprised by the shift in topic.
“A feast?”, he echoed, raising an eyebrow.
Jung Rok nodded, gesturing towards the children still playing.
“Those two,” he indicated a boy and a girl playing near a swing set, “are siblings, and that one,” he pointed to a solitary girl drawing in the dirt with a stick, “that one’s separate, right? But they all heard the same thing from their parents. ‘Our house too!’ They kept saying, ‘Oh? Oh?’ It means something good is happening in the village, right?”
Jung Yoon considered this, his gaze drifting over the houses nestled among the green hills.
“Something good… You mean redevelopment, right?” he mused, a flicker of understanding in his eyes.
“Probably,” Jung Rok confirmed with a casual nod.
He then waved to the children in greeting, a final farewell before they left.
He approached Jung Yoon, massaging his shoulder and rotating his arms to loosen up, a clear sign of his own growing fatigue despite his earlier bravado.
“And that means it’s going to be even harder to get their cooperation now,” he added, his voice dropping slightly, the playful demeanor replaced by a more serious tone.
“…That’s a headache,” Jung Yoon admitted, running a hand through his hair.
“I just spoke with Ki Jun-hyuk,” Jung Rok continued, his tone matter-of-fact, “and he’s coming straight to Deokdong Police Station after stopping by the mental hospital. Looks like they’re bringing Jung Yong-jun.”
Jung Yoon’s eyes widened abruptly as he sighed, his gaze still fixed on the tranquil village scenery, now imbued with a new sense of urgency.
“Immediately? They got a warrant?” he asked, his voice sharp with surprise.
Jung Rok raised an eyebrow.
“Why would you need a warrant for a reference interview?” he countered, a hint of weariness in his voice.
“He’s a patient,” Jung Yoon retorted, his voice rising in frustration.
“Do you think anything will happen without his guardian’s permission?”
“Exactly,” Jung Rok said, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips.
He then put his arm around Jung Yoon’s shoulder, a casual, almost intimate gesture.
Jung Yoon flinched, pulling his neck back slightly, a clear sign of his discomfort with such physical closeness.
Jung Rok smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling as he looked at Jung Yoon’s reaction.
“You said I could touch your shoulder,” he teased, his voice low and playful. “…No, suddenly,” Jung Yoon mumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly.
Jung Rok, seizing the opportunity, practically clung to Jung Yoon’s shoulder as if he was going to hang on, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Jung Yoon’s gaze fell on the hand resting on his shoulder.
His expression clearly showed he had a lot to say, a myriad of protests and frustrations, but was holding it back, choosing to endure the unwelcome contact.
“Anyway, we have to solve this before that,” Jung Rok said, his voice becoming serious again, breaking the playful tension.
“…Will Jung Yong-gil cooperate? What would there be to make him?” Jung Yoon questioned, his voice still slightly strained.
“We’ll have to let it slip that Jung Yong-jun has been taken to the station as a reference,” Jung Rok continued calmly, his eyes thoughtful.
A heavy sigh escaped Jung Yoon’s lips.
Indeed, Jung Yong-gil was not the kind of person who would stay still if his sick son was being investigated.
The thought of his son, a patient, being taken to the police station would surely provoke a strong reaction.
Jung Yoon nodded, acknowledging the grim reality of their strategy.
“It would be good if he cooperated before that, though,” Jung Rok added, almost as an afterthought.
At the added remark, Jung Yoon paused, a sudden thought crossing his mind.
Jung Rok, noticing the subtle shift in his expression, gently messed with Jung Yoon’s hair.
“Ugh, let’s go,” he muttered affectionately, patting Jung Yoon’s shoulder before walking ahead.
Jung Yoon shook his head, tidying his messed-up hair, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips.
“Well, I’ll let it slide once,” he mumbled to himself, a concession he wouldn’t normally make.
Trailing behind Jung Rok, he suddenly turned his head.
His gaze drifted back towards the pavilion, where the children were still sitting, their laughter echoing faintly.
“He’s surprisingly good at doing things that don’t suit him,” Jung Yoon murmured, a wry amusement in his voice.
He then belatedly chased after Jung Rok, a sudden thought striking him.
“I didn’t lock the car door!” he shouted, his voice carrying clearly down the quiet village path.
At that sound, Jung Rok stopped walking abruptly and rummaged through his pockets, a familiar jingle of keys sounding.
He found the car remote, then stretched out his arm, pointing it towards their parked vehicle.
“Beep!”
The distinct sound of the car doors locking echoed through the air.
Immediately after, he turned around, a triumphant grin on his face.
He walked backward, still looking at Jung Yoon, who was now hurrying to catch up.
Jung Rok only walked forward after Jung Yoon, who had quickened his pace, finally caught up and, with a playful exasperation, grabbed him by the collar, pulling him forward.
As they bickered good-naturedly and walked, their voices a low murmur of conversation, they eventually found themselves in front of the gate with the nameplate bearing Jung Yong-gil’s name.
While Jung Yoon meticulously tidied his clothes, adjusting his jacket and smoothing down his hair, Jung Rok, with his characteristic impatience, strode confidently to the doorbell.
And the moment Jung Yoon lifted his bowed head, having finally deemed his appearance satisfactory, a loud “Ding-dong!” resounded through the quiet alley.
It was a rusty, scratching sound, as if the bell itself had seen better days, and it cut sharply across the peaceful morning air.
“No, what…!”
Jung Yoon exclaimed, clearly startled by Jung Rok’s sudden action.
A moment of silence stretched, broken only by the faint chirping of birds.
Then, a voice, hesitant and low, responded through the intercom.
“[…Yes.]”