My name is Choi Siwon. This is my diary.

Ever since I started to register things, I have been killing people.

Today I killed a guy called Ben. As far as I could see, he’s a bad guy. Ben abused his wife, who divorced him. Holding a grudge against her, Ben plotted revenge. When he was in the middle of acting it out, his path crossed that of a poor young lady. Fascinated by her, Ben lied. Hiding his past he did everything to please her, to win her heart. He succeeded… until one day she figured out. Driven by the fear of losing her, Ben grew controlling and abusive. He stalked her and threatened all her guy friends. One day she said she had enough and decided to leave. Ben broke down and begged. Since she indeed loved him, she forgave and stayed. Then again he abused her. Again she wanted to leave. Again he pleaded. The pattern repeated and spiraled down. Ben locked her up in the basement…

I killed Ben today.

Though I kill a lot, I do have sympathy. I’m not heartless. However after I pushed Ben off the rooftop, while I was watching him fall, while I was admiring the fear in his eyes, while I was enjoying his cries of despair, I smiled. I felt great. I eliminated a bad guy. I rescued a good girl, who could start a new life now.

I walked down the stairs to the basement where she was locked up. The gate responded to my command and opened.

There, lying on the damp floor, she’s dead.

She killed herself. I checked. It’s not the work of our kind. She ended her life the day before. I was too late.

Looking down at her cold and lifeless body, at her pathetic life, at her once lively and beautiful heart, a severe pain gathered at my throat. Tears flooded my eyes. I sniffed, kneeled down, when hot tears finally crossed the boundary and trickled down my face.

I cried. I cried for a long, long time.

I can kill. But I cannot revive.

……

Today I don’t feel like killing anybody. I decided to be lazy and enjoy the sun in a café.

Staring at my coffee, I was thinking… What’s the point of killing Ben when the young girl’s already dead? Was it my fault…? That I didn’t do my job fast enough?

What’s the point of killing…? What’s the meaning behind my calling? Why does my kind exist at all?

Who decides who should be killed? And who should live? Who decides how much time each person has? How are all these decided?

I flipped open my notebook and checked the next name.

The coffee tasted bitter.

……

I attended Ben’s funeral. The sequence of events they got was… Ben committed suicide after discovering the death of his beloved…

Could that be the case? I recalled how Ben looked when I met him on the rooftop. Was he planning to end his life? Did he know she was dead…?

Ben was certainly shocked when he saw me. Before he could utter a word… I pushed…

I tried hard to recall… if I glimpsed any remorse in his eyes…

I couldn’t be sure…

Ben was a successful businessman. He had a good social status. Those who worked with him praised him for his wisdom, decisiveness, creativity, courage, hard work…

(So what?)

People in the funeral said they would always miss Ben.

I stood up and walked out.

(No you won’t.)

……

Every time I walk down the streets I ask myself. What are all these people doing? For what purposes are they breathing, eating and drinking? Why are their hearts still beating? Why are they still given time? What are expected of them in their remaining time?

Today I visited my next target. Her name’s Elena.

Elena’s a nice woman. I wonder why she has to die.

She keeps a simple job in a bank. She lives a simple life. She didn’t do anything bad. Basically she doesn’t do much other than going to work and going back home. She follows the routine. She follows all the rules.

I followed her into a fast food restaurant. Quietly she queued up, paid, got her food and sat down. I watched her from several tables away.

Wordlessly she ate. She took out her phone and started browsing. Minutes later silent tears came out of her eyes. Quickly she took the napkin and wiped them away. Again wordlessly she continued her meal.

I decided it wouldn’t harm to get to know my targets better. I walked to sit opposite her. She looked up, shocked.

“Why did you cry?” I asked.

……

Okay. Enough diary extracts for now. Let’s go back to our death agent.

--------------------------

A/N: This is a short chapter. Actually I planned originally to write more before releasing. But I just couldn't resist the urge to publish something!!

A/N2: Now I continue writing this story. OK? Enjoy this short chapter first~~~ ^^