Convict Unit: Black Parade

Uh, my ID? Uhh?

Han Jae-hee fumbled through his pockets, flustered.

ID? Come to think of it, I was thrown in here right after I turned eighteen. I never even got my resident registration card issued, did I?

So what did that mean? Would he never be able to buy cigarettes or alcohol?

Just then, the black man who had been watching Jae-hee scramble suddenly clutched his stomach and burst out laughing.

“Hee hee hee! Kid, I’m just messing with you! Man, you’re as adorable as you look.”

“Huh?”

“You really think we’d card people in a prison full of adult Villains? You’re so naive.”

The man rested both arms on the counter, flexing his massive biceps and giving Jae-hee a sultry wink from behind a set of dramatically curled eyelashes, so long they were almost overwhelming.

“Callsign’s Cashier. First time seeing you, so you must be new, huh?”

“Y-yes…”

“Aw, so cute. Come by often. Big sis here will give you lots of freebies.”

Big sis?

While Jae-hee was still processing the title, Cashier moved to stand in front of the cigarette display.

“So, what brand of smokes can I get for you?”

“Um…”

He’d just realized he had no idea what Ghost smoked.

She eats the cheapest ramen, drinks the most common instant coffee… she doesn’t seem like the type to be picky about brands. But no, cigarettes could be a totally different story.

After a moment of deliberation, Jae-hee asked, “What’s the mildest you’ve got?”

“Of what we stock? That’d be Esse.”

“A carton of those, then.”

As he placed a carton of Esse cigarettes in a plastic bag, Cashier started to nag. “Kid, smokes are terrible for you. You look like a baby. Quit now before you regret it later.”

“They’re not for me…”

“What, so they’re a bribe?”

“You could say that, I guess?”

“If they’re not important to you, then by all means, hand ’em over. But if they are important, you make damn sure they quit.”

Jae-hee hummed in thought. “It’s hard to quit smoking, right?”

“Of course it is. But what in life is ever easy to quit?”

He’d never really tried them himself, but he’d heard that the withdrawal from alcohol and cigarettes was intense.

Jae-hee wondered. If that was the case, what could be used to offset the withdrawal symptoms?

“Ah.”

Spotting something near the counter, Jae-hee pointed. “In that case, I’ll take those too!”

***

As Jae-hee was leaving the supermarket, he ran into a couple of familiar faces.

“Oh, Miss Bodhisattva! Lamb bro!”

It was the Silken Bodhisattva and Little Lamb duo.

They were both in tracksuits, their faces haggard as if nursing a massive hangover.

“Oh… it’s Boy. Hey.”

“Hi! Hi! Hi!”

As the two waved, Jae-hee asked, “You don’t look so good. Are you okay?”

“We drank all night, and now my stomach’s a wreck. We came to get something for our hangovers, but…” Silken Bodhisattva mumbled, her face a mask of misery.

“Haaa, I guess I spent too extravagantly. I’m out of Credits.”

“What?”

“The bean sprout soup here is to die for, but we don’t even have enough for a single bowl. Haaah, I wish they’d give us another mission soon…”

Silken Bodhisattva smacked her lips, staring at a nearby hangover soup restaurant.

Then she suddenly whipped her head toward Jae-hee.

“Boy, you don’t happen to have any spare Credits, do you? Could you lend me a little? I’ll pay you back after the next mission.”

“I can’t…”

Where in the world would he get spare Credits? The only thing he had in surplus was his ridiculously long prison sentence.

“Lady Bodhisattva! Lady Bodhisattva!”

Just then, Little Lamb, who had been thinking for a moment, pulled something from his pocket.

“Little Lamb’s ultimate move… emergency funds~!”

It was physical Paradise Credit.

While Paradise Credit was primarily used as an electronic currency on the ship, physical versions existed in the form of commemorative coins—a remnant of the ship’s past life in the cruise tourism industry.

Seeing the coin, Silken Bodhisattva let out a shriek and threw her arms around Little Lamb’s neck.

“Oh my gosh! My darling! You had a cute little stash hidden away!”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! With this, we can buy one bowl of bean sprout soup and share—”

Silken Bodhisattva snatched the coin from Little Lamb’s hand with a wicked giggle. “Alright, let’s go multiply this at the casino!”

“The c-casino?” Little Lamb’s large eyes trembled. “But, Lady Bodhisattvaaaa, this is all we have left…”

“C’mon! I did a reading this morning, and my fortune for wealth was off the charts.”

“R-really?”

“Of course! My Little Lamb, you trust your big sister, don’t you?”

“Yes! I do!”

“Alright, then to the casino, let’s go!”

“Go! Go! Go!”

The two linked arms and skipped away, giggling as they entered the casino.

…A match made in heaven.

As he watched them go, Jae-hee offered a silent prayer. Please hit the jackpot… and if you have any left over, maybe buy me something tasty…

Oh, right. The errand, the errand.

He kept forgetting his original purpose.

Turning away from the casino, Jae-hee hurried toward the elevators in the central plaza.

***

Deck 0, “Rock Bottom.”

As he was scampering toward Ghost’s room, Jae-hee stopped in front of a nearby cell and waved inside.

“Brother Hang! Long time no see!”

From within, a set of skeletally thin fingers emerged to grip the iron bars, followed by a gaunt face shrouded in shadow.

“Heh heh heh… I saw you yesterday.”

“Oh, you’re right. Well, hello anyway!”

“Heh heh heh… amusing as always.”

The two began to chat casually—or rather, Jae-hee chattered while Hangman mostly responded with his dry, breathy laugh.

“By the way, Brother Hang, were you really a professor?”

“Heh heh heh, I was… it was only thirty years ago that I stood at a lectern. An assistant professor, but still…”

“Wow, that’s amazing! I’ve never met a professor before! You must be super smart!”

“Heh heh heh… it’s not for me to say, but you could assume there isn’t a single convict in this prison smarter than I am.”

After talking for a while, Hangman suddenly glanced down the adjacent corridor.

“But you… does Ghost not say anything about you hanging out with me like this?”

“My master? She used to, but she doesn’t say much anymore!”

More accurately, she’d given up.

Jae-hee’s habit of greeting everyone with a beaming smile, like some kind of quokka, had naturally drawn the attention of the other prisoners.

At first, Ghost had tried to stop him, but she couldn’t change her chatty disciple’s fundamental nature.

“Oh shoot, right! I’m on an errand for her!”

The mention of Ghost finally reminded him of his real mission.

Waving enthusiastically, he dashed off with a whoosh. “See you later, Brother Hang!”

“Heh heh heh… yes. See you again…” Hangman slowly waved back from inside his cell.

And so, after a long and winding journey, he finally reached Ghost’s room.

“Master, I’m back!”

He knocked twice—thump, thump—and hopped inside without waiting for an answer, immediately launching into a story.

“I saw Miss Silken Bodhisattva and Little Lamb bro on the way here. They were heading into the casino. But since she’s a shaman, couldn’t she, like, use her powers to predict all the cards and stuff? Then she could make a fortune, right?”

Ghost, who had been stirring a pot on the burner, stared at the boy’s babbling mouth for a moment, looking utterly dumbfounded, before shrugging.

“There’s a saying: ‘A shaman can’t perform their own rites, and a blind man can’t see his own end coming.’”

“Uh… so that’s a no?”

“If she could do that, do you think she’d still be locked up in here? She would’ve bought her way out ages ago.”

Ghost tasted the contents of the pot, then looked at Jae-hee. “Have you eaten?”

“Nope!”

“Then stay and eat.”

“Okay.”

Jae-hee naturally began to help set the table. It was a familiar routine by now.

Ghost had made a soybean paste stew with tofu and dried vegetables.

Wafting the steam toward his nose, Jae-hee asked, “Ah, my mouth is watering. That smells amazing. Do you like soybean paste stew, Master?”

“Is there a Korean who doesn’t?”

“Well, I’m sure there are some.”

“Whatever. I like it. It’s edible no matter what you throw in it.”

She added a package of kimchi, some seaweed, and heated instant rice.

It was a simple meal, but considering they were in a prison, it was a veritable feast.

“Thank you for the food!”

Jae-hee shouted his gratitude and began to eat with gusto. Ghost, too, ate with her usual neat, efficient movements, never pausing.

The meal was over in the blink of an eye.

Jae-hee bowed his head. “Thank you for the meal, Master!”

“Sure. You’re on dish duty.”

“Yep! Leave it to me! Oh, and! I bought those cigarettes you mentioned yesterday. Here!”

Jae-hee pulled the carton of cigarettes from the plastic bag he’d brought.

“I didn’t know what you smoked, so, uh… I got the most popular brand!”

He’d actually asked for the mildest, but he presented the carton with a little white lie.

Ghost took it and read the brand name. “Esse.”

She tore open the carton, placed a single pack on the table, and tossed the rest into a cupboard.

“For domestic, I only smoke Raison. For imports, Marlboro.”

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry…” Jae-hee watched her nervously. “Should I go exchange them?”

“…Whatever. It’s not like I’m that picky. I smoke whatever’s given to me. Esse is fine.”

Ghost expertly opened the pack and pulled out a fresh cigarette.

The slender stick, characteristic of the Esse brand, was held for a moment between her red lips before she pulled it away.

Jae-hee swallowed hard as he watched, finally working up the courage to speak. “Master.”

“What.”

“Um… could you maybe quit smoking?”

“Why.”

Ghost stared at him with her blue eyes, as if daring him to give her a reason.

Jae-hee’s lips trembled for a moment before he spoke carefully.

“You have to live a long life.”

“I’m an S-Rank. I could drink and smoke all I want and be perfectly fine.”

“No, not you, Master. I mean me. Me.” Jae-hee pointed at himself with his index finger.

When Ghost just stared at him, bewildered, he nodded emphatically.

“They say secondhand smoke is really bad for you! Your smoking is ruining your poor disciple’s lungs!”

“…”

Ghost already made a point of not smoking when Jae-hee was around, usually just chewing on an unlit cigarette instead.

But refraining was one thing; quitting was another matter entirely.

She snapped, annoyed. “Look. This life is boring enough as it is. If you take away my cloud cookies, what joy am I supposed to have left?”

Jae-hee tilted his head to the side. “The joy of raising your cute disciple?”

“Don’t overestimate yourself.”

“Are you saying I’m less fun than a cigarette?!”

“I’m saying they’re not exactly interchangeable. It’s not like I can stick you in my mouth and suck on you, can I?”

Jae-hee paused to imagine that. “Hmm…”

“What.”

“Hrmmm…”

“What.”

After a long moment of contemplation, Jae-hee’s face hardened with resolve. “Well, it might not be impossible…?”

“It is, you little shit.”

“For the sake of your quitting, I would gladly offer this one body.”

“Always overestimating himself, this brat. I don’t need it!” Ghost fumed.

Jae-hee rummaged through his pockets. “Anyway, that’s why! I bought a substitute for cigarettes, too!”

“A substitute?”

“Ta-da!”

Ghost’s brow furrowed as she looked at what Jae-hee presented with both hands. “What is this.”

“Can’t you tell? They’re lollipops!”

It was the assortment of lollipops he had purchased along with the cigarettes.

He stuck them between his fingers one by one and shook his hands with a flourish. “Strawberry! Grape! Peach! Chocolate! Soda! I bought a ton!”

“…”

“Alright, today is day one of quitting! Let’s do this, Master!”

“…”

“You got this! You can do it! ‘Quitting: The Shortcut to Saving Your Disciple’s Life’!”

Ghost pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on.

Her craving for nicotine was stronger now than it had been in years.