Naturally, so many people didn't need to go all together. Jack took down the other person's number and continued to team up with Clay. The others also had their own plans.
Alice stayed behind to continue digging up Grayson Faber's background information, while Jubal and the others went to the National Police Agency to follow up on the latest developments in the murder of Barbara Walker, a British resident, two weeks prior.
Clay was driving again, with Jack in the passenger seat, giving directions. Seoul is a mountainous city. While not as steep as Chongqing, the various slopes are still extremely annoying.
Although Jack was also new to the area, he could at least recognize the road signs. After several detours, they were stuck in traffic just before their destination.
"Looks like there's something up ahead." Seeing that the intersection near the agreed-upon destination was completely blocked, Clay simply pulled over and got out with Jack to walk.
Both men were tall, and from their distance, standing on the periphery of the crowd, they could see what was happening inside. The incident took place at a corner convenience store. A young man in a hospital gown was brandishing a knife and confronting several people outside.
Jack and Clay were in a good position; their intersection faced the convenience store across the street, giving them a perfect view of everything.
There was blood on the knife, and the young man's hospital gown was also stained, but the blood didn't appear to be his. An ambulance was parked next to the convenience store, with two EMTs bandaging a man's wound.
"What happened?" Clay, who spoke no Korean, could only stand by and stare blankly as Jack, smiling, inquired from the onlookers.
"Kangsangmida," Jack politely thanked a talkative woman and turned to Clay, relaying the gossip he had just gathered.
The injured man was the convenience store owner. A young man with a knife had appeared from nowhere, stabbed the owner, and then blocked the store entrance.
Also inside the convenience store was a mother and daughter: the owner's wife and his college-aged daughter. While they weren't injured, they were clearly terrified and were trapped inside the store, screaming non-stop.
Confronting the psychopath at the convenience store entrance were three plainclothes detectives who had just arrived. Traffic was now blocked in all four directions at the intersection by police cars.
Besides the three detectives, other officers wearing black vests with white stripes were diligently maintaining order. Spectators, like everyone else, were pushing forward, seemingly unafraid of death, leaving the officers in a state of panic.
"That's how they, uh... handle a lunatic?" Clay exclaimed, somewhat incredulously. The three plainclothes detectives confronting the psychopath were unarmed and cowered, refusing to approach, only shouting from a distance.
"Hmm," Jack's expression was indescribable.
Today's South Korean police experience a sense of frustration and cowardice. Just a few examples illustrate this. A crazed, knife-wielding mentally ill patient attempted to attack police, was electrocuted and handcuffed, and died five months later, forcing the police department to pay 320 million won (approximately $230,000) in compensation.
Another case involved firing warning shots at a fleeing suspect, causing him to fall and stab himself in the thigh with the knife. The police department incurred another 78 million won (56,000) in compensation. Of course, in addition to South Korea's unique prosecutorial system, the South Korean police's own dark history also contributes to this situation. From Lee Hwan, Park Hsi, and Jeon Young-jang, these three toxic individuals' strongest internal clout was the South Korean military and police.
Consequently, after the so-called "democratic" era, the South Korean police have been stripped of many of their powers, and their status has plummeted.
While the requirement that police officers shoot in the legs before firing is a joke in neighboring Eastern countries, it's a clearly enshrined rule in South Korean regulations.
Nowadays, even the problem of assaulting police officers has become a major cancer in South Korea, with nearly 20,000 cases a year. This number is only the officially submitted ones. There are many more cases of assaulting police officers that are concealed due to the concerns of the parties involved.
A significant portion of these concealed assaults on police officers occurred on female officers. Despite the extreme and widespread prevalence of certain martial arts in this vast nation, female police officers still face significant discrimination. To avoid further discrimination within their ranks, many choose to conceal their experiences of assault.
Of course, even when reported, the vast majority remain unaddressed, and those assaulted may even face complaints from the suspects themselves.
Under pressure from public opinion, the most common practice among police leaders is to abandon the lower-level officers who are responsible. This has led to the highest suicide rate among police officers in the South Korean civil service, a phenomenon that continues to rank among the highest.
The scene unfolding before Jack and Clay, while seemingly comical, is nonetheless a stark reality, as the words "cowardly" and "useless" are often associated.
Abandoned and even despised by society at large, the result is a collective inaction among South Korean police. For now, however, the situation remains a positive one: at least the three plainclothes detectives dared to confront the suspect, preventing him from harming the mother and daughter at the convenience store, albeit with limited success.
There was an even more extreme case. After the victim called the police, two police officers, one male and one female, arrived without taking any action, ultimately subduing the suspect themselves.
Clay, speechless, rolled up his sleeves and prepared to step forward to take action. Jack followed, whispering a warning from behind to keep his weapon visible.
South Korean society is extremely sensitive to police shootings. Although they were from the FBI, the situation was outside their purview. Casually using a gun would likely be hyped up by the media as a major public outcry.
As a typical polarized society, servile to the powerful while simultaneously advocating for equality and national self-confidence, if someone were to cut off a finger in front of the Blue House, things could easily get out of hand.
While the South Korean authorities have always been unable to deal with the "bodyguard nation" of culprits, let alone the FBI, the entire team would likely be recalled to the country to appease public opinion.
If the first case were to fail due to such a minor incident, the Bombardier business jet, about to undergo a renovation at the Canadian aircraft factory, would be in tears.
"Who are you?" A horse-faced man, who had just arrived at the scene and was already shouting, blocked their path.
"FBI, Agent Jack Tavola, this is my colleague, Agent Clay Spencer." Jack handed his ID to the horse-faced man, who seemed to be in charge. The detectives who had just confronted the mentally ill patient had called him "Squad Leader."
Squad Leader was roughly equivalent to the stern-faced Superintendent Gray when Jack first joined the LAPD. Judging by the situation at the scene, he should be the one with the most influence here.
"Huh?" The horse-faced squad leader, dressed in a blue striped polo shirt and beige trousers with a thin belt, the polo shirt tucked into the trousers, and the only thing missing was a keychain hanging from his waist, looked like a completely middle-aged uncle. He slapped his forehead in surprise and couldn't speak clearly.
"Is that the American FBI? The one with 'FBI WARING'?"
"You speak perfect Korean."
"Hey, do you FBI hire people based on idol standards?"
The plainclothes detectives confronting the mentally ill man forgot what they were doing when they heard Jack and Clay, dressed in black suits and white shirts, introduce themselves. They gathered around and started talking at once.
(End of this chapter)