Seoul was dark.
A massive line stretched out from the emergency room. Workers in white suits moved through the crowd. Sirens screamed and oxygen tanks rattled on metal stretchers. Masked people filled the hallways. They coughed and stared at the floor.
The inside was loud and messy. Nurses yelled into phones about missing beds. The smell of bleach was so strong it made eyes water.
A door at the end of the hall was open.
A doctor sat at a desk and looked at a folder. He shook his head.
"Mr. Joe Yabuki."
Joe looked up from his chair. He wore a mask but his eyes were visible. He looked tired.
"It has been six years." The doctor leaned forward. "Most people with your brain damage cannot take care of themselves by now. It is a miracle you can walk."
Joe stayed silent.
"We tried everything." The doctor sighed. "The tissue damage is permanent. There are no more drugs or surgeries."
"Nothing is left." Joe spoke with a flat voice.
"No." The doctor looked down. "Your eyes and hands will get worse. You will lose your balance and your speed."
Joe stood up. "I get it."
"Mr. Yabuki."
"Thanks, doc."
He walked out of the room.
The hallway felt miles long.
Joe walked straight but his right hand started shaking. He shoved it deep into his pocket.
A kid stared at him in the waiting room. Joe looked ahead and kept moving.
He stepped outside into the cold wind. His breath came hard against the fabric of the mask.
His money was gone. He had spent every prize cent from his boxing days on doctors.
He walked toward a bus stop.
A boxing poster was stuck to a wall. A young guy was holding a gold belt and laughing.
Joe stopped for a second.
He looked at the fighter and then looked away.
"That is over."
The bus pulled up. He got on and sat by the window.
The restaurant was in Munrae-dong.
The sign above the door said Don-ga. It was an old place but the floors were scrubbed clean. An old woman was working behind the counter.
Joe pushed the door open.
"Young Joe." The woman smiled. "How was the doctor?"
"Same." Joe sat by the window.
She brought him a glass of water. "Spicy pork or noodles?"
"Pork. And rice."
"I will get it started."
The woman went into the kitchen. Joe looked at the water. His hand was still vibrating against the tabletop.
He heard the stove light up.
The front door slammed open.
A woman in a sharp suit walked in. She looked around the room and stopped at the counter.
The old woman came out with a plate and stopped. "Can I help you?"
The suit smiled. "I am not hungry."
She pulled out a business card. "I am Yoo In-yeong. I am from Smile Capital. We are government-certified."
The old woman took the card. "Oh. Okay."
Joe put his chopsticks down.
He watched them from his table.
"Business is bad, right?" Yoo asked.
"It is." The old woman sighed.
"You owe thirty million won to the bank."
"I do."
"Sign this." Yoo pointed at a paper. "We will pay the bank. Our interest is five percent. The bank is seven."
Joe stood up and walked over.
"How do you make money that way?"
Yoo looked Joe up and down. "Who are you?"
Joe pulled out a chair and sat next to the old woman. "Just talking. Go on."
Yoo cleared her throat. "The government is helping people because of the pandemic. We get special funding to keep rates low."
The old woman looked confused. She looked at Joe for help.
"Two percent is a lot of money." Joe said.
"Exactly." Yoo nodded. "This helps everyone."
She tried to give the paper to the old woman. Joe reached out and took it instead.
The top said Debt Repayment Agreement.
Joe flipped through the pages.
Yoo stopped smiling. "We want you to keep your shop. It is a good deal."
Joe kept reading.
He finished the last page and sighed.
"No thanks. We are not signing."
Yoo turned red. "Ma'am, this is a huge chance. Why is he talking for you?"
She knew the old woman lived alone. She knew the woman had no family left.
The old woman looked at Joe. She saw how steady his eyes were.
"He is my son's friend." The woman said. "I trust him."
Joe blinked.
He did not expect that. He looked back at the contract.
"Sir, what is the problem?" Yoo asked.
Joe pushed the paper back to her. "This is a scam. You lower the rate but add a ten percent fee due in twenty-four hours. Nobody has that cash."
The room went quiet.
Yoo looked at him differently now.
She was a loan shark. Her boss needed money fast and this was a trap for people who could not read legal fine print.
She stood up. "Are you a lawyer?"
Joe shook his head. "No. Nobody."
Yoo relaxed her shoulders.
She pulled out a phone and dialed a number. "Get in here. There is a problem."
Two black cars screeched to a halt outside.
Nine men jumped out of the doors. They carried wooden bats and folding knives.
The old woman jumped up.
Joe stood up slowly. His hands were shaking harder than ever.