บท 9: 09 - Freedom. For Real, This Time
I took my decision. I was getting out of this shithole without looking back.
My bag, full of banknotes, was laid on my bed. I could use it as a suitcase for now.
I touched it and opened it. The banknotes weren't even taking half of the space: perfect.
A wardrobe full of the same tuxedos was behind the door. I took several and put them inside the bag.
Wait a second. What would Parisian people say if I wore a criminal uniform at the in the World of Above? I could use my former outfit, but I didn't think the Firm washed and dried the military uniform. They probably tossed and burned it, erasing the last proof as Song-ho, the rebel dancer.
I scrutinized my tie, smooth and warm. It was so nice to touch something just ironed. These clothes looked brand new too. What a shame to be unable to wear them due to the dress code.
"Whatever. I've got the money, and there are tons of new clothes in Paris." I closed the bag's zip.
As I was carrying my bag, my back shivered.
It wasn't because of the cold like in Korea. The cause was more psychological than physical. It was like that shiver you felt before someone tickled you.
They weren't touching your body. But the finger was there, only millimeters away from your back, ready to strike when you couldn't tell when.
Someone was watching me. But from where? I checked the corners: no cameras.
So, where? Were they hidden behind the clock's mechanism? Or... I don't know, maybe the doors here were transparent. Anything was possible. They opened their doors with thumbs! Or, more realistically, they heard me.
In my field of vision, a shadow moved. I turned toward its direction: the window.
Something was looking at me. A form that wasn't belonging to the false lawn and the false blue sky of the Firm.
I approached myself towards the windows, one foot after the other, with the speed of a snail. As soon as I reached it, I closed the stores.
My breath returned.
When I resumed my job, my back shivered again. And it wasn't the windows.
Or maybe, it wasn't the door anymore. Were they bringing weapons?
I had to get out of here and fast.
I opened the door slowly when I met a white eye. I let my bag fall in surprise, "You!"
The Puma raised an eyebrow at me. He looked at me from tip to toes, "Be more careful. The doors don't have keys for those having the master pass under their fingers, like me."
I looked at his empty hands and understood what he meant. We couldn't even have privacy, "I see. It has been a pleasure to see you." I closed the door.
While the door was closing, he plunged his arms into the hole before the magical door completely closed. By the sole strength of his arm, he lifted me by the neckband, "I didn't think you would run away that fast."
The door reopened itself.
My feet didn't touch the floor anymore. How mighty was that person, exactly? I took his arms between my shaking hands, even if I knew I wouldn't be able to make him budge.
"You saw me...?"
"I was going to get myself a coffee at the cafeteria to relax from the session when I heard someone crush the note. That could only mean disobedience. It was a good idea to come and check it out." He clutched my shirt.
I gulped, "People always tear papers. That could be, I don't know, a badly written novel or something?"
"Paper for printed books don't sound like this particular one."
Fuck. That wasn't going to cut it. He wasn't stupid, and if I was under the impression he would explode my head with a single punch if I said another dumb lie.
"Technically, I didn't run away," I said, pitifully trying to have his mercy.
He put me down on the ground, "Not yet."
There was a hushed silence. He stayed before my door, not doing anything anymore. No punch, nor stabbing me with his blades. Not even a phone call to his Boss. What the hell was happening?
I hesitated before taking my bag back, "That's all? You're not calling the Boss?"
He shook his head.
I put the strap of my bag on my shoulder, "What will she say when she'll know I've disappeared?"
"I would tell her that I, a poor blind man, couldn't stop you from going out."
So he was blind. That explained his foggy eyes. That didn't explain his incredible agility.
"Why are you accepting the fact that I'm leaving?"
"Even if someone can survive unplanned events and can defend themselves against armed people, this job isn't everyone's calling. It's tiring and bad for the heart. I can understand some people don't like this type of job."
I couldn't believe my ears. There... was this kind of people in the Underground World?
I went to the opposite hallway while staying near the walls, to remain unnoticed, "Thanks. Just before I go, let me tell you this: you should be a nurse. It'll fit you better than this."
He smiled and grabbed my collar again, "Wait. It's full of people here, and you don't have the key to the door." He brought me further into the bedroom hallway. He entered one of them.
This one looked like someone lived here. The Puma himself, probably. The Puma had a blanket twice as big as ours, and a Hi-Fi was playing a disk: Edith Piaf's "la vie en rose" among others. Good taste.
He opened his wardrobe and revealed a staircase going up, "Voilà, here it's better."
"A secret passage? She'll know that it was you that made me go out."
"He spoke in a dramatic tone, "Oh no! This malicious person tricked me into believing his wall had a dysfunction when he was making me unlock my room! Pardon me, Madam."
I smiled. But at the same time, I remembered his true job, "Why do you stay here? You too, don't seem to like it. Come with me."
He said no with his head, "No, I'll stay. Ndongo... She is like a mother to me."
"The boss, your mother?"
"Yes. You know, there are other gangs and mobsters in Paris. Nadine Ndongo... She's the most compassionate of them all. I wouldn't trade her for an employer from Above."
I'll admit I thought he was crazy. Maybe this was a weird disease making you worship this monster of a Boss and a terrible Pilot. Better get out before he caught it.
The Puma was sure of his choice. I climbed the stair until I got out of the sinister underground world. Until my nose touched the soft air of Paris.
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