PTT - 36

It took less than a minute to reach the main courtroom. Now that the suspect’s location had been identified, there was no need to move cautiously or muffle their footsteps. Upon arriving at their destination, Raon saw the Counter-Terrorism Center team members already confronting the terrorist inside the room.  

About a dozen personnel, led by Deputy Team Leader Jung Ichul, had formed a semicircle around the suspect. Diane, who had arrived slightly ahead of Raon, took her position without hesitation. Raon moved to the far left of the formation and stood ready. From this angle, the terrorist’s figure became visible through the crowd.  

“Ah, you’ve even cut off my broadcast… Heh, this is quite troublesome. All I wanted was to have an honest conversation with the citizens, but look at all of you rushing in like this.”  

“Put down the detonator in your hand. Repeat: Remove your hand from the detonation device.”  

“As I’ve said before, I have no intention of causing harm. That includes all of you officers as well. Why would I take innocent lives? You’re just dogs feeding off the state…”  

Though the overhead lights were off, making it difficult to see his face clearly, his voice and silhouette suggested he was a man in his late 50s to early 60s. Occasionally, he chuckled warmly—a demeanor utterly incongruous for someone strapped with explosives. How could he remain so calm if the bomb on him wasn’t fake?  

Raising an eyebrow, Raon glanced to her right. Mabel and Rock had already joined the line on the far end.  

‘Where’s Senior…?’  

But Baek Siheon was nowhere to be seen. Was he controlling the situation from outside? Or perhaps coordinating with the negotiation expert?  

Various possibilities flitted through her mind, but they were all mere speculation. Taking a deep breath, she tightened her grip on her rifle.  

At the forefront, Deputy Team Leader Jung Ichul ran a hand through his hair and spoke in a clipped tone. Though he dealt with terrorists regularly, something about this man felt deeply unsettling. His detached attitude, almost devoid of any attachment to life, along with his patronizing demeanor—it all seemed off. Ichul pulled out his phone and showed the screen to the suspect.  

“This is our negotiation specialist. Whatever you want, let’s discuss it peacefully first. I’ll put them on speakerphone so you can talk directly.”  

“What I want isn’t something like that. In fact, I don’t want anything at all… Heh. I won’t make the call. You’re all busy people—why waste time like this?”  

Still smiling benevolently, the man fiddled with the detonator in his right hand and added in a tranquil voice:  

“My name is Gwak Seon-gi. Rather than addressing each other as 'you,' wouldn’t it be more respectful to use names? It’s a good name my father gave me, so please use it often.”  

“…Alright, Mr. Gwak Seon-gi. You’re a professor in the sociology department at Korea University, correct?”  

“You already know who I am, even before I introduced myself. Yes, that’s right. I’ve spent my career nurturing the talented individuals who will shape the future of our country.”  

Seeing no willingness to speak with the negotiator, frustration flickered across Ichul’s face. There was nothing more dangerous than someone who had already given up on life. Investigations into Gwak Seon-gi had begun swiftly after he announced his intentions via live stream.  

A professor at Korea University—one of the most prestigious institutions in the nation. What could possibly drive such an esteemed educator to commit such reckless acts?  

No one in the room could fathom it. At that moment, Professor Gwak smiled gently and raised both hands. The wrinkles on his skin deepened, betraying the passage of time.  

“Now then, everyone. Instead of staying cooped up here in the dark where we can’t even see each other’s faces, why don’t we step outside? I believe honest conversations require sunlight—I’d like to feel its warmth now.”  

“…”  

The suggestion to change locations prompted silent exchanges of glances among the Counter-Terrorism Center members. They couldn’t discern whether this cunning old fox—or snake—had ulterior motives.  

After maintaining silence for five seconds, Ichul finally made a decision. With the back of his hand, he signaled a quiet retreat.  

Following their deputy leader’s command, the dozen or so team members slowly backed out of the room, keeping their weapons trained on the target.  

Professor Gwak, still wearing a serene smile, took slow steps forward. The remote control connected to the bomb wires remained firmly in his grasp.  

The atmosphere grew increasingly tense, like walking on a tightrope stretched a hundred meters above the ground.  

---

Outside the Constitutional Court  

Stepping outside, the midday sun bathed their helmets in bright light. A perimeter of 30 meters around the building had already been cordoned off by police forces. The weather was brisk yet pleasant, typical of early spring.  

But despite the sweet arrival of spring, the mood surrounding Professor Gwak remained sharp and icy. Though they had relocated to the statue of the Constitution Guardian as per his request, his intentions remained inscrutable.  

In anticipation of a potential escape attempt, additional personnel had been stationed at the rear.  

Unaware—or perhaps fully aware—of the plans orchestrated by the Counter-Terrorism Center and Special Team 4, Professor Gwak leisurely basked in the spring air. Gazing up at the cloudless sky, he marveled at its beauty before turning his attention back to Ichul.  

“Now then, shall we begin our discussion? Since my broadcast has been cut off, I hope you’ll convey my message accurately to the public. I do worry about possible distortions, though.”  

“Alright, Professor Gwak Seon-gi. What is it that you wish to say?”  

“The essence of my point is simple. I desire…”  

Closing his eyes, he clenched the switch in his hand and pressed it against his left chest, as if feeling his heartbeat.  

“For all citizens of this nation to find happiness. Not necessarily equal levels of happiness for everyone—but at least, no one should remain unhappy. And the key to achieving that lies in the downfall of those who possess too much.”  

“…”  

Raon’s brow furrowed behind her transparent goggles. Despite his elaborate explanation, what exactly was he trying to convey?  

“So, I—and my colleagues—intend to fundamentally change this country. Of course, it won’t be an easy path. Many will die, many will suffer, and persecution will follow. But the outcome will be beautiful and radiant.”  

The atmosphere grew stranger by the second. Unnameable emotions flickered across the faces of the team members listening to his twisted rhetoric. Yet, Professor Gwak spread his arms wide, smiling brightly.

“The starting point will be here, at the Constitutional Court. This nation's constitution has been flawed from the very beginning. We must obliterate these outdated, power-corrupted laws and rebuild the foundation step by step—all to create a land filled solely with peace and happiness.”  

“Professor Gwak Seon-gi, are you really—”  

“Shh. Am I not in the middle of speaking?”  

The moment Deputy Team Leader Jung Ichul couldn’t hold back any longer and opened his mouth, all traces of warmth vanished from Professor Gwak’s face. His hollow eyes, devoid of light, swept across the crowd as he fiddled with the surface of the switch using the tip of his thumb.  

“I do not wish to harm any of you. That is my intention—and His will as well.”  

“His”? The two syllables that slipped out sent Raon’s nerves on high alert. This was a situation teetering on the brink.  

She instinctively sensed that even the slightest provocation could trigger an irreversible catastrophe. Gwak Seon-gi tilted his head, his lips curling into a forced smile while his eyes remained cold and unyielding.  

“So please, step back. I intend to reset this nation’s constitution to its rightful place. Though my flesh may be torn apart, my resolve will remain etched in the hearts of many comrades.”  

It was then that Raon realized why he had insisted on moving locations. His plan was to detonate the statue of the Constitution Guardian. Blowing up the court building wouldn’t eradicate the constitution itself, but symbolically, this location was perfect for delivering his twisted message.  

Realizing that Gwak was far from sane, Jung Ichul swallowed hard. Dozens of officers stood frozen, their eyes glued to the tip of his right hand, awaiting orders. Time was running out. It was clear now—he truly intended to press the detonation switch.  

As if aware that the end was near, Gwak offered a resigned smile. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his right arm.  

“Since I’ve already warned you, consider this the price for your stubbornness.”  

The thick pad of his thumb edged closer to the switch. At the same time, Raon’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. Should she wait for the final order from the commanding officer? If just five more seconds passed like this…  

Her heart pounded wildly, as if broken beyond repair. Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.  

Just then, a voice pierced through her eardrums.