when the phone rings novel
Overnight, Baek Sa-oen had become the arsonist responsible for killing six people with toxic gas.
Was it the shock of this development? For several days, not only did he refrain from going out, but the nightly 10 p.m. threatening calls had also ceased.
If Baek Sa-oen's plan had been to intimidate the blackmailer into retreat, then it was a resounding success.
As "Voice-Changing Threat" became a trending keyword in real-time searches, Hee-joo found herself losing her appetite entirely.
"I've become the voice of an arsonist!"
The more she thought about it, the more she felt wronged, absurd, and enraged.
Hee-joo hated reliving that morning and despised feeling powerless, so she resolved to step outside for once.
Though her motives were somewhat shallow, she still wanted to do something meaningful.
"There's really only one place I can go."
The sign language interpretation center.
The moment she stepped inside, she almost bumped into Han Joon, the center's director, who was rushing out with a serious expression.
Today, as always, he wore a fluorescent Hawaiian shirt and a gold chain.
Despite his frequent complaints that sign language interpreters should dress modestly, like a blank chalkboard, Han Joon himself was undoubtedly the most flamboyant person there.
"Ah...! Darling, hallelujah!"
He suddenly grabbed Hee-joo's hand as if welcoming an angel.
"Hee-joo, you're here just in time! Sorry to ask, but can you do me a favor?"
'What is it?' she asked in sign language, trying to free her hand from his grip.
"There's a position open today, and no one can fill in," the director said with a troubled look, frowning deeply.
'What position?'
He led Hee-joo to the sign language relay center—a place providing real-time communication mediation services for the hearing impaired, using voice, text, or sign language to act as a communication intermediary.
While pulling her along, the director begged earnestly.
"You've studied it before, right? You should be able to do it. Anything requiring voice can go to the person next to you—you only need to handle what you can manage. Just one hour...! Only one hour!"
He clasped his hands together, pleading sincerely.
"Your biased uncle will repay you a hundredfold for this!"
Despite his impassioned request, Hee-joo scratched her neck lazily, looking uninterested.
Seeing this, Han Joon clearly felt embarrassed and switched to flattery to win her over.
"I recently attended a new sign language conference at the National Institute of Korean Language. We were discussing how to interpret songs by the American singer Kariba in sign language... We've been debating fiercely lately."
Exhaustion suddenly swept over his face.
"But it's so difficult... The lyrics are too explicit..."
Kariba...?
"Explicit lyrics?"
Hee-joo stared at him, and the director's face flushed.
"I don't think it's appropriate to explain in front of you..."
'I'm not a child,' she signed back.
"Alright, alright," he said, gently patting her head.
"Anyway, there's an upcoming concert, and they need a sign language interpreter. I'll recommend you for it. Your English is excellent, and interpreting the artist's words would be perfect for you."
Hearing this, Hee-joo immediately thought of Baek Sa-oen's suggestion to work as a sign language interpreter at the Blue House.
She unconsciously licked her lips.
"So, please help me out—just one hour! Darling, I owe you one...!"
Han Joon was truly swamped and dashed off in a hurry.
Hee-joo greeted her colleagues and put on her headset.
'You could've just said whatever to me...'
Han Joon had been an adult she'd seen at the center since she was nine years old.
Back then, he was a lively young man in his twenties, always playful and full of jokes. Over the years, she and Han Joon had become a well-coordinated team.
But with Baek Sa-oen, who had been by her side for just as long, they had grown into a relationship more distant than that of strangers.
"Ah...!"
In that instant, she recalled the hand that had once gripped her thigh so tightly, and her face involuntarily stiffened.
It was just a name—why was she reacting like this?
Startled, Hee-joo slapped her cheeks lightly.
'You were already looking for an excuse to escape, and now this!'
Ignoring the heat rising to her face, she activated the program. The phone began to ring incessantly.
Hee-joo focused on her role as an intermediary, relaying everything from casual calls between friends to communications with public and financial institutions. It was nonstop work.
Just as she stretched her arms to relax, a video call came through.
"A video call...!"
This was specifically for sign language communication. Hee-joo stretched her fingers nimbly and confidently pressed the accept button.
"Wow...!"
A vast, clear blue sky filled the screen. The video wobbled slightly before the caller's face finally appeared.
Against the backdrop of the blue sky, curls of hair fluttered in the wind.
"Hello..."
Just as Hee-joo was about to greet the caller in sign language, a chill ran down her spine.
The man on the screen was grinning so widely it stretched to his ears.
"Sister, long time no see?"
"...!"
A face that was both unfamiliar and familiar pressed right up against the camera lens. His exaggerated features filled the screen, so distorted that they resembled some kind of reptile.
"Uh..."
The scream rising in her throat turned into a low moan.
"It's been a while, relay girl, it's really been a while."
"...!"
"Oh, by the way, is my old phone still in use?"
That... that voice...!
Her breath hitched, and her hands trembled.
Why was he suddenly here? Hadn't he disappeared after that failed attempt?
"I know this place. The Sign Language Interpretation Center, representative number 107. Even someone like me can request a relay call, right?"
"..."
"I have someone I want to call. Your husband, Baek Sa-oen. Help me reach him. Baek Sa-oen. Damn it, Baek Sa-oen!"
"...!"
The memories of that day weighed down on Hee-joo, rendering her completely paralyzed.
It felt as though phantom raindrops were still pelting her cheeks. Her chest tightened, and she panted in fragmented breaths.
"You helped me that time too. I'm grateful. But why won't you help me anymore? Why won't you call him? Why, why?!"
He smashed his phone against his forehead, the screen shaking wildly.
"I'm on your side!"
Hee-joo's complexion turned pale, her foot fumbling beneath the desk for the power button.
"So I set the fire. I lit it for you."
"...!"
Her outstretched leg froze mid-motion.
"I did well, didn't I? I did the right thing, didn't I?"
He smiled, as if awaiting praise, but the dangerous glint in his eyes betrayed any semblance of innocence.
"People... got hurt..."
For the first time, Hee-joo disregarded the presence of those around her and forced herself to speak. But her voice came in gasps, broken and frail.
"That's why I'd rather they all just die."
His scruffy appearance and flippant tone melted away. Framed by the blue sky, the man's smile seemed almost pure.
"How dare that damn bastard ignore my sister's calls!"
The phone she had found that day—had it been a tool to change her life for the better or to ruin it completely?
Wasn't it supposed to be the thing that saved her from her miserable life?
"Sister, keep calling. Keep doing it."
What exactly was the thing I picked up that day...
"From now on, always be my voice."
What on earth was it?
"Be my messenger."
An indescribable sense of despair struck Hee-joo like lightning from above.
"Just like you heard about the divorce, I have things I want to hear too."
He swayed on the screen, swinging back and forth like he was on a swing.
"I have things I want to hear too."
The kidnapper, wearing an innocent expression with his mouth open wide, spoke with a tone that hid malice.
"You can keep using the phone. Divorce—that's all I want to hear until it happens. I don't care if Baek Sa-oen loses everything; that's fine by me. In exchange..."
The screen swayed closer and farther, like a pendulum, its motion making her heart uneasy.
"You'll hear the things I want to hear for me."
The words were cryptic, but they instilled an undeniable sense of dread. His seemingly simple request was laced with a terror she couldn't quite place.
Her hands instinctively clenched into fists, her chest tight with anxiety. Hee-joo stared blankly at the screen, her breath catching, when suddenly she shot up from her chair.
"Wait, that's...!"
Her trembling voice cracked mid-sentence.
"Where... where are you now...?"
At Hee-joo's trembling question, he gently tapped the camera lens. The once-clear image instantly turned a vivid crimson. The overwhelming scent of blood seemed to waft through the screen.
"!"
The man spread his blood-soaked hand wide, grinning like a blooming trumpet flower.
"Do you understand now, sister? Once it begins, you have to see it through to the end."
Hee-joo ripped off her headset, as if possessed, and bolted out of the room.
The people in the communication center glanced at her fleetingly but quickly lost interest. Just as she stormed out, Han Jun, the center director, called out, "Hey, Hee-joo...! Wait, where are you going, my dear!"
But she didn't look back. Something had gone terribly wrong.
The kidnapper's last words pierced her mind like nails.
"Otherwise, you'll lose everything
"Ah... ah..."
Her father's faint groans echoed from the hallway.
Hee-joo pushed through the crowd, hurrying toward her father, who was surrounded by police.
The first thing she saw was the stark crimson of uncleaned bedsheets.
The nurse on duty stomped nervously when she spotted Hee-joo.
"I... I thought I had to call the police..."
Her father's mouth, neck, and hospital gown were stained with bright red blood, as vivid as freshly spilled paint.
Hee-joo's legs nearly gave out beneath her, trembling so much that she could barely stand.