Against Time | k.th. ✔

五 : walking idiosyncrasy

Just when Yeseul was about to grab the supposed infiltrator by his wrists and haul him to the nearby police station, her phone began to chime— ending up startling both, its owner as well as the terribly pitiable human who was still on his knees. Thankfully, she had not yet dropped the device back into the abyss of her pockets, rendering it easier for herself to straightaway check the one who wanted to have a telephonic conversation with her at such a climactic point of time.

"Goddammit, Yuna! What do you want?" Yeseul shrieked exasperatingly, causing the man beside her to shut his ears in desperation. The female felt a tug as a result, for she still had her grasp on the man's wrist as firm as ever, also to which she responded by jerking her arm back along with the latter's— making him lumber down on the ground dismally. Taehyung was already panic-stricken as to which land he had set his foot upon by submitting to his curiosity of trekking down the underground tunnel, and Yeseul's cold-blooded stares were in no way helping him calm down his nerves.

"What? They won't accept my script? Just what do these theatre people think of themselves? Freakin' bunch of self-obsessed jackasses!" Yeseul propelled her fist into the air, the attack clearly meant for the group of people that she just barfed profanities for. Though what she did not realize in the meantime was that she instinctively released Taehyung from her captivity.

And he, like usual, did not think twice before utilizing the perfect opportunity to scram.

Yeseul did not pay attention to the sudden absence of that soul until she twirled around in the heat of the moment, finding nothing but a sequence of leaves being hurled by the wind. As if she was not already raging enough by then, her eyes flew open when the situation finally got fed into her brain.

The trespasser was gone, and so were her chances of being entitled as The Vigilante of the Year by the government.

"Well, you know what Yuna? I'll make sure to have myself compensated by you for the loss that you've just made me go through, when I come back to college tomorrow. Also, do me a favor and tell those theatre kids on my behalf to trip over their own self-made sloppy dialogues for an eternity because I won't be writing for them, ever again!" Yeseul seethed, abruptly cutting the call the very next moment.

The walking idiosyncrasy— that was the uncanny man— was no longer within Yeseul's visual range. Piqued, she swept the strands of her hair aside which were otherwise sprawling all over her face. With one hand resting on her hip as she strenuously massaged the space between her eyebrows, it did not take her much long to deduce what to do next.

"Man or not, I can still carry on with my original plan of informing the police about him." Yeseul maniacally grinned to herself before preparing to sprint for the alleged destination.

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Ten minutes of running, and the girl was already in shambles. Heaving profusely, she leaned onto the main door of the police station with her head succumbing to gravity, her trembling knees appeared like ready to cave in at any moment now. A detective peeped from his desk to savor the spectacle, which may not have been his initial approach towards the girl. However, when her posture— as if she was barely surviving— did not tweak despite him waiting for a couple of minutes now, the detective reached out to her, his brows knitting in worry.

"Miss, are you alright—"

He preferred not to complete his question when Yeseul wearily lifted up her head, but instead displayed a contrasting smile like that of a Cheshire cat's.

"I'm... here to report an illegal immigrant." Yeseul huffed out, her voice comparatively nasal.

"An illegal immigrant, you say?" The officer reiterated, and that somehow acted as a cue for Yeseul to muster her strength for one more time and ultimately plod towards his workstation.

She lazily sagged into the chair, prompting the detective to follow her lead and sit across her, perform his duties in time and with diligence. He fished out a notebook from one of the drawers on his desk and placed it atop the wooden surface, subsequently holding a pen between his fingers with utmost earnestness as his eyes launched daggers.

"So miss, tell me how did he look like? His appearance, clothes or any unmissable feature that you managed to notice."

"His clothes were... right! He sported a worn out beret cap on his head and... And I remember his pants had suspenders on them. The shirt he wore beneath was full-sleeved, and as much as I can recall, it was in checkered pattern. One additional remark, he looked like as if he popped straight out of a period drama. Like, his dressing was so appropriat—"

"Alright, it's getting too much subjective." The detective mumbled while jotting down the notes, stirring Yeseul to grimace at him, "What about him was so striking that made you believe that he was not a Korean national?" He gently put down his pen, looking directly into the female's eyes.

"He didn't know our capital! And h—he didn't have the slightest knowledge of all the gadgets we have. But he spoke Korean... fluent Korean, I must say. Though his vocabulary was very outdated... the entire time we spoke, he didn't utter a single English word! That was what made me conclude that he was a," the volume of Yeseul's voice plummeted all of a sudden as she gestured the detective to lend his ear to her— literally, "North Korean." She whispered cautiously into his ear, and a chuckle erupted from the detective as a result.

"W—why are you laughing?"

"Ma'am, North Koreans don't live in the previous century. They know how to operate gadgets as much as us. Who told you all this nonsense?" The detective continually let out his annoying chortles, which had wound up irking Yeseul.

"What have you got to say about him not knowing our capital? Isn't that ridiculous? Don't you think so?" Yeseul quizzed, a mocking undertone interestingly brash in her voice.

"What did he say our capital is—"

"Hansung! Do you still find my suspicion funny?" Yeseul folded her arms, her gaze growing pointier than ever.

"Oh my God, what kind of a joke is this..." The male grumbled frustratingly under his breath once again as he slammed his palms onto the desk in a rather subtle manner, with Yeseul not being able to restrain herself from quirking her eyebrow at that extremely disrespectful behavior, "Miss, look. It's not my fault that you're not aware about Hansung being another name for Hanyang, that is present day Seoul, back in the twentieth century. So, if you still underestimate police or think that we're just passing our time sitting in here, you better leave before I lodge a complaint against you instead."

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a/n

10 mins of yodelling for the woman on top i.e. our super gorgeous jung jinsoul ma'am (you got it right, i'm a simp)🤩

jokes aside, vote and comment if you're liking how the story is advancing teehee💫 also, the hanyang/hansung fact is legit hehe couldn't suppress the history student in me from researching the shiz out of korean history for this book🤭