1. Body Count
I am a Hongdae Boy
1. -Body Count-
11 pm in the side streets of Hongdae — a place where the lights never go out.It’s hard to tell if this is really Korea or some other country, with so many languages and skin tones mingling together.'
Most of the conversations drifting through the night air are in English, while between faces lit with a mix of excitement and desire, the neon lights dance like restless fire.
At Hongdae Playground, where most of the crowd is made up of foreigners, strangers crack open bottles of soju bought from the convenience store and become friends in minutes.
A few Korean men are working their way toward blonde Western women, their voices just loud enough to overhear.
“Where are you from?”
“What brings you to Korea?”
“Do you like Korean food?”
Their clumsy English is padded with forced confidence, and underneath it all, a faint desperation.
Into this scene walks a tall, well-built man, moving with quiet ease. His body is sculpted from training, his appearance sharp and clean, and his casual, almost indifferent smile pulls eyes toward him without effort.
His entrance feels almost staged, like a director had timed the moment perfectly. People pretend not to notice, but their gazes betray them. He doesn’t seem to care, opening a bottle of soju with practiced familiarity and drinking alone.
After a while, a slightly tipsy man approaches with a grin.
“Hey, you here alone?”
“...Yeah.”
“You looked a little out of place. Don’t be shy—go talk to some girls.”
At first, he hides his amusement behind polite restraint, but the annoyance slowly begins to show. The drunk man doesn’t stop, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him toward a group of women.
“Come on, don’t be like that. By the way… what’s your body count?”
The question catches him off guard. He pauses for a moment before answering. and responds with asking back
“how about you?”
“Me? Ha… quite a lot. around… twenty?”
“....haha..”
“Why? What about you?”
“1211.”
The smile on his lips twists into something sharp and cynical.For a split second, every nearby eye flicks to his mouth.
Some people chuckle awkwardly, others freeze. He lets out a dry laugh, as if the other man isn’t even worth responding to, and walks away.
Just then, I step into the Playground right on time for our meeting, raising a hand.
“Max! Already drinking by yourself, huh?”“Heh… let’s start with a bottle, Duke.”
We drink and trade stories from our past encounters in last week. These aren’t just shallow boasts anymore — we find ourselves revisiting each experience, reflecting on the patterns in people, the strange turns of human nature.
Why is it that, at thirty-two years old, I’m here in Hongdae at this hour, meeting blonde, blue-eyed women?
When did the act of attracting someone new turn into a kind of game — like hunting monsters in a dungeon — instead of something meaningful?The satisfaction is fleeting; the bitterness lingers.
Let me take you back to 2 years ago.January 2022.
I had graduated from a national university in the countryside with a degree in business administration, worked a steady job for a few years, then quit to take a break.
I had just ended a five-year relationship with a Korean girlfriend, and starting something new felt impossible.
I was burned out from Korean society, dreaming of working abroad — but my lack of confidence in English made living overseas seem unrealistic.
Still, what pushed me forward was a simple, restless urge: to get away.
But I didn’t know then…that this trip would lead me to a meeting capable of turning my entire life upside down.
*All rights to this work are owned by the author. Unauthorized reproduction, distribution, or transmission in any form is strictly prohibited without prior written consent from the author.All characters, organizations, locations, and events depicted in this work are purely fictional and bear no relation to real individuals, groups, or incidents.Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.This work is a work of fiction, and the author has no intention to defame, harm, or misrepresent any real person, group, or place.The author assumes no responsibility for any misinterpretation or disputes arising from the reader’s perception of the content.
