"……."

Slap. Shurrrrrr. Slap. Shurrrrrr.

After parting from Ha Tae-ung, Jang Jungseop stayed on at the shore.

The East Sea at Sokcho, which he has always thought of as a fine place for a holiday.

Face to face with the clean open sweep of the waves, and still he feels shut in.

Money is the problem.

The presidential security service, where he had been sickened past bearing by hirings that made no sense and by corruption.

One word from a man with power, and the firmest principle came down easily.

A gym trainer who had been lifting dumbbells took up a gun and became a bodyguard.

Men with no professional grounding were seated above him.

He had carried the pride of guarding a nation's head of state.

After that, his sense of duty took a deep wound.

Men who had run for honour wagged their tails to be carried along by power.

Faced with something so revolting, he tasted his own self-disgust.

He put in his resignation and walked out of the Blue House.

He wanted to bring out the whole of what he was capable of as a bodyguard.

He worked at protecting the weak, at keeping to what a bodyguard is for, at living a life he could take real pride in.

But the reality of it was pitiless.

The world of protection was not beautiful the way the dream had been.

The weak had neither power nor money.

From the ones who had both, he was as often as not treated as a bin for their feelings.

Warriors who had once guarded the Republic of Korea bowed their heads for money, to eat and go on living.

There had been chances, of course, to close his hand on a fortune at a stroke.

The trouble was that every one of them was an unlawful commission.

Work of that kind came in often enough.

From protection on the head of a cult to standing guard at an illegal shareholders' meeting.

But once Jang Jungseop knew what was really behind one, he could not carry the commission out.

A…