Young-Sook Lee walked slowly along the beaten path. She winced at her aching joints while she adjusted her backpack, and wondered if she had any pills left at home. That can wait. She had more important things to do. The mobile soup kitchen over at the underpass only opened for the afternoon. She'd have to hurry if she wanted to get a decent meal.

The seventy-three-year-old woman paused and inhaled deeply. The humid air clung to her like sheer linen. Around her, the dilapidated homes, composed of corrugated metal sheets, flimsy plastics and worn carpets were a stark contrast with the luxurious high-rise buildings in downtown Seoul. Young-Sook paid no heed to her surroundings. Guryong Village may be run-down, but it was her home. 'The last shanty town in Gangnam,' people had called it. She, along with many others, found refuge here after their homes were demolished back in the 1980's. Now, they were once again faced with the possibility of losing their homes thanks to their country's rapid economic growth.

She rounded a corner and was immediately hit by a foul odor. Young-Sook wrinkled her nose. Looks like the garbage men are late again, she thought. These days, it seemed as if they were all but abandoned in this forsaken place. Breathing through her mouth, Young-Sook walked down the road towards a row of shacks, until she came upon a rusty door. Torn beyond repairs, the door was supported only by a single hinge and some wires. Two torn-up rugs hung in front of it to provide extra protection.

Gently, Young-Sook knocked on the door. "Soo ah," she called out, and knocked again. "Sung-Soo ah, are you in? Let's go have lunch. The mobile kitchen is open today." She paused to listen for any moment but was greeted by silence. Puzzled, she knocked again, louder, but not hard enough to damage the door. Sung-Soo just had it fixed last week.

A feeling of dread crept up Young-Sook's spine. She tugged at the door knob, and the door opened with a scratchy creak, meaning the old man should be home. Young-Sook ambled in tentatively. "Sung-Soo ah?" she called out softly, her heart praying for a response. Yet any hope she had was dashed at the sight of her friend lying on a tattered banig.

Young-Sook's heart clenched painfully. Her arms flailed about before she found support from the wall. She fought back the waves of nausea and forced herself to breath. Tears welled up in her eyes. Her once-alive friend lay before her, his crinkly dark eyes now closed. His ashen face, the once smiling lips now cracked and still, all harsh confirmations of her greatest fear.

"Oh, Soo ah."

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

Ye-Jun Kim grimaced as he exited the house, or, more accurately speaking, the shed. Despite the warming weather, the twenty six-year-old paramedic felt as if he was enveloped in a thin layer of ice. He looked up at the overcast skies, then around him where a crowd had gathered. His lips curled in distaste. How anyone could survive in a dump like this was beyond him.

"Please go back to your homes," he ordered the crowd that'd gathered outside of the shack. "There's nothing to see here." No one moved an inch, which frustrated him even further. "I said move!"

He was rewarded with a smack on the back of his head. Furious, he whirled around. "What the hell!" he exclaimed indignantly.

"What's wrong with you?" his partner, Sang-Hun Lee, snapped. "Is that any way to speak to them? Didn't your parents teach you to respect your elders?"

Ye-Jun opened his mouth to argue, but stopped himself when he saw the scowl on the forty two-year-old veteran's face. He wiped the sweat off his brow. His performance appraisal was coming up, and the last thing he'd want was a bad score.

He watched Sang-Hun approached an elderly man in the crowd and began to talk quietly to him. Soon after, the man turned to the crowd and signaled for everyone to step back. 

Ye-Jun's jaw dropped. "How did you do that?"

Sang-Hun shook his head. "If you don't respect them, why should they respect you?" He patted Ye-Jun on the shoulder. "These people have nowhere else to go. Their families have all but abandoned them." He gestured around the slums. "The least we can do is let them have their dignity."

Ye-Jun's eyes wandered around the shabby makeshift homes. He thought about his studio apartment in Cheongdam-dong. It was tiny, expensive, but compared to the slums, it was a much nicer home.

Not another word was exchanged between the two paramedics as they wait for the coroner to arrive. Most of the residents had left them alone, but Ye-Jun could still see some of them peeking through the holes and windows. The long wait was beginning to gnaw at him, and he was dying for a cigarette.

Oh, fuck it. Enough was enough. Ye-Jun stood up. "Do you think I can head to the entrance and –"

He was interrupted by a shout. He could make out an old woman stumbling towards them, babbling gibberish. Ye-Jun's mind went blank, but thankfully, his partner was way more experienced than him.

"Stay here," Sang-Hun instructed him before running towards the woman.

Ye-Jun couldn't hear what they said, but whatever it was seemed serious. Sang-Hun's face became grave. He said something to the old woman, who still looked agitated, but had calmed down slightly. Once again, people were coming out of their homes again.

"What's going on?" Ye-Jun couldn't help but call out.

He watched as his partner said something to the old woman before hurrying back to him. "Call dispatch," he ordered. "Tell them to send a police unit. There's a body found in the slums."

Ye-Jun blinked. Two bodies in one day? "Why do we need to call the police?" he asked dumbly.

"Because this one is not a resident. Tell dispatch it's a young foreign woman, maybe American, or European, and it's possible her body was dumped here. I'm going to head over and take a look. Tell them to hurry."

It finally dawned on Ye-Jun what was happening right now. Oh, shit.

Today was so not his day.