Byeong-hui Jang couldn't gather himself.

It didn't sit right with him that Ju-cheol Seong, who had tried to kill him, had died in a traffic accident.

"Did Brother Ju-cheol even know how to ride a motorcycle?"

"Who knows…"

Du-ho Song was no less shaken.

With a startled, bewildered face he looked down at the newspaper and said,

"Never mind that — a man who must have driven the Inner Ring Road a thousand times, why would he go in the wrong way? A man who drives a car, which is far better and safer than a motorcycle — what would make him leave the car and take a motorcycle onto the Inner Ring Road?"

Du-ho Song shook his head as though he couldn't understand it however he thought about it, and said,

"What do drivers like us hate most? Motorcycles and bicycles on a car road. And he did it himself?"

Turn it over as he might, there was something in the story that wasn't quite right.

More than that, the man never touched a drop, since he could be called out at any hour, so drunk driving made no sense either.

"This looks to me like a warning message sent to us. No — not to us. To you."

"What kind of warning… do you send by killing a man?"

Byeong-hui Jang shouted it.

His head rang and dizziness came over him, but just now the fear was greater than either.

"What do you mean to do?"

Knock, knock.

Slide.

As Du-ho Song asked it, a nurse knocked at the door of the room and came in.

"Mr. Jang."

"Yes."

His face set, Byeong-hui Jang looked up at the nurse who had called him.

The nurse checked her chart and said to him,

"Your attending physician says you're to transfer back to where you were being seen originally."

"Transfer? You mean leave here?"

"Yes."

The nurse answered as though it were nothing and lowered the chart.

And looking from Byeong-hui Jang, startled, to Du-ho Song and back, she said,

"He says the records and treatment history are at the…