December 1, 2030

  Jung Min-ju couldn’t believe her ears. “…What? You’re from North Korea?” The man nodded. Jung Min-ju stared at him blankly for a moment, then pulled out her phone and made a call. Ring… While the phone rang, she glanced at the man, who looked back with a puzzled expression. Beep! A short tone sounded, followed by Kim Min-seok’s voice. “…Agent Jung, do you know what time it is? It’s 9 a.m. I have a right to sleep too…”

  Avoiding the man’s gaze, Jung Min-ju covered the phone and whispered. “…Shut up and listen. I’m sitting next to a North Korean right now. What do you think?” Kim Min-seok scratched his head over the line. “…Got a North Korean boyfriend, Agent? I thought you were on a business trip to Japan…” Infuriated by his playful nonsense, Jung Min-ju snapped. “…Listen, Agent Kim. This is serious. I’m in the reception room of Japan’s Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office, and there’s a North Korean guy sitting next to me. Got it?” Kim Min-seok snapped to attention, adjusting his posture.

  “…Who is he? A North Korean spy? Is Japan’s intelligence interrogating him?” Jung Min-ju glanced at the man. He wore a shabby coat and glasses, eyeing her curiously as she spoke on the phone. “…Looks like a civilian. Maybe a defector who made it to Japan.” The North Korean man spoke nervously. “…I’m from the Reconnaissance General Bureau.” Jung Min-ju switched to the phone. “Yeah, he says he’s a spy. A legit one from the Reconnaissance General Bureau. His clothes are shabby, but he speaks clearly, so he’s not crazy.” Kim Min-seok replied, dumbfounded. “What kind of spy introduces himself as a spy? Agent Jung, where are you? Should I request backup?” The man tilted his head, watching her talk. “…Uh, Agent Jung, right? I think your phone’s on speaker.”

  …

  Rumble… Wearing a mask, Jang Cheol-dae attached a large funnel to a small opening in the spinning grass grinder, poured grass from a basket, and closed the lid. He climbed down a ladder and rested on a chair. Baek Hyung-jin took the grass residue collected in a rubber basket under the grinder, dumped it into a container with digestive fluid and microbial culture, and stirred vigorously with a large wooden stick. After mixing, he sat next to Jang Cheol-dae to rest. Without a word, they sipped from drink bottles. Sweat dripped down their backs, leaving stains on their clothes. Jang Cheol-dae lowered his head, clasped his hands, and spoke to Baek Hyung-jin. “…Hey, not too tired? Just two more hours, and we’re done. Let’s push through.” Baek Hyung-jin looked at him, exhausted. “How the hell did Gamagogi manage this?”

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  Jang Cheol-dae shrugged. “Beats me. I heard they purged Gamagogi and destroyed all his research data… ugh, that’s horrific. To work so hard on this and have it all erased…” Baek Hyung-jin nodded. “…Good thing Hiroshima University had microbial samples left. Without them, we’d have to start by extracting microbes from cow intestines and separating them with a centrifuge.” Both shuddered at the thought. After two hours, Baek Hyung-jin brought a palm-sized sugar meter. “Hope this one works…” He scooped a teaspoon of the dissolved grass-liquid gel and placed it on the meter. Beep. The meter ran for a moment, then indicated insufficient sugar levels. They sighed. “…Back to square one.”

  …

  Jung Min-ju faced the two men sitting before her. One was Suzumura Hideki, head of the Korean Peninsula Division at the Cabinet Intelligence and Research Office; the other was a North Korean named Kang Min-chul. Nervously biting her nails, Jung Min-ju spoke. “…What’s this about? Spit it out. I have a flight tomorrow and need to sleep tonight.” Suzumura and Kang Min-chul exchanged glances, nodding in agreement. Suzumura showed her a photo—a blurry, low-quality image of a man crossing a field. “…What’s this?” Jung Min-ju asked, feeling a bad premonition. Suzumura spoke first. “This is Gamamusa. What you’re seeing is a photo of him moving through a political prisoner camp.”

  Jung Min-ju tilted her head. “…Political prisoner camp? I know his adoptive father was purged and killed, but I never heard Gamamusa was purged. How could someone purged work for North Korea’s Reconnaissance General Bureau?” Kang Min-chul spoke up. “…You really don’t know anything. Gamamusa isn’t a spy sent by our country. Quite the opposite.” He pointed to the photo’s background. “…I was a guard at that camp. This photo, taken by the camp’s only surveillance camera, shows Gamamusa escaping. He killed all 200 guards except me and 3,000 prisoners before fleeing. In short, he’s not a spy—he’s a mass murderer who slaughtered thousands.”