Agent Sochu

The inherited last name, Jeong, is the only concrete thing Ah-reum knew about her mother, which also took the paternal question off the table. The only other thing is the vague impressions passed on by the older orphans as she aged up, of a gloomy woman with intricate tattoos and copious scars covering her oddly flabby skin. The bleak adolescence turned Ah-reum torpid, almost sociopathic, and the lonesome free time she divided between textbooks and the new wave writing and poetry by the 386ers. Due to this desensitization, she concluded that cutting people open suits her just fine, and as the country's collapsed economy was recovering from the crisis, her erudition helped her score both a scholarship that covered tuition fees and a separate grant for living expenses. In 1999, she moved south and enrolled at KNU Med to study the nascent field of plastic surgery. Two years of pre-med courses went by quickly; she kept to herself as usual, wordless, apathetic. All the more surprising was the attention of a debonair immigration officer, who somehow spotted Ah-reum during her rare reluctant outings. For a while she remained oblivious despite Ki-woo's deliberate courting: paltry meals during the childhood made her scrawny, and the notion of a suave older man taking interest of any kind when she lacked any feminine charm or curves was too alien to entertain. Nevertheless, they dated as she finished med school and got married right after her graduation. Unenthusiastically, she accepted this as the last chance to have a 'normal' life, worth giving up the KMLE and KSPRS certification; her husband's true aim was revealed before long. In his small house on the east coast, everything had its place, neatly slotted; a 'wife' was but another object to possess. And like his every other personal item, he asked – not demanded – Ah-reum to be monogrammed with his initials, 'KWDS' tattooed just above the mons pubis. Spending the days alone, confined to one place, wasn't new; she resumed the intellectual self-improvement and even became intimately acquainted with their home gym. Her impassiveness didn't dwindle even when Ki-woo started to abuse whiskey and batter her – fulfilling the 'traditional' woman's role seemed normal. Only after the fourth visit to the hospital with another broken bone, where the staff was shocked by the bruises hiding under her clothes and the extent of the beatings she was taking routinely but didn't report, she was forced to reassess the risks to her life. The cold and calculated solution is murder. The plan came together with remarkable ease owing to his hobby, solo climbing; Ah-reum executed it effortlessly: scrambled up the least exposed route, waited, and simply pushed once he reached the mountain top. A forged suicide note and a senile old neighbor served as her alibi; when the investigation was closed, she felt reborn. At the tender age of thirty, finally learning to enjoy her existence, the woman couldn't suspect how odd it was shaping up to be. Her tranquility was soon disturbed by an unexpected guest, an unassuming hunchback, who in simple terms divulged the truth and delivered the offer. Like all promising orphans, she was constantly being watched: various organizations, skirting the law or unarguably illegal, are always on the lookout for new prospects with no ties. Scouted not by the limp-dicked Jopok, but by an international crime syndicate, at first Ah-reum was pegged for an analyst, then a surgeon in their underground clinic. But with the physique she acquired, the thrashing she could take, and the execution of the mariticide, the unique combination of talents made her the perfect candidate for a very special division with a nondescript name. It was The Agency who made the cops lose interest, and at last, when she was free to be approached, sent a recruiter. This choice was liberating. Rising above ordinary people to become a hitman, she had to pick a shtick, defining her niche. Following that policy, all other agents have their own cruel gimmicks: burying the marks alive in the sand during low tide, draining the blood from the corpses and arranging them like a work of po-mo art; all sorts of gruesome acts in demand among the clients. Led by unrealized misandry, Ah-reum decided to be whimsical and bring death "by penis"; the codename "agent Sochu" was intentional, granted by her amused handler, the Librarian. Unaware of the similarities in their lives, and the ways she has surpassed her mother, presently the younger Jeong woman considers herself happy and doesn't think about the past. Despite the attained notoriety – after almost a hundred completed missions across the globe, all carried out with expert precision, all with high profile targets – and enormous bounties she collects, Ah-reum continues to live modestly. Just your average lady next door (albeit with a peculiar yellow mohawk), nodding politely in greeting, while she relaxes on the patio with a cup of morning coffee and a book; with millions of dollars on her untraceable bank account, capable of killing a squad of trained soldiers without breaking a sweat. Called in for a contract she takes a train, a three hour KTX ride, then a bus, to reach the Library. There she picks up ammo for her signature gun: a stand-alone single-shot 40 mm grenade launcher with a golden grip, adapted to fire transparent cartridges composed of transparent glass and resin and containing a wet specimen, and various other penile weaponry; changes into her "work clothes": a plain achromatic ensemble of a coat, jeans, gloves, obscuring her already androgynous figure, a dark beanie, concealing the rebellious hair style, amber tinted aviators; and gets briefed. An agency plane carries her to the exotic locations where another loser is about to come down with acute penis poisoning, and from there it's back to her cozy solitude in late husband's waterfront house.