To get your hands on Wolha's ledger, you have to drink what its boss pours you, every single night. Dojin knows your name, keeps the end seat open, and fills the glass before it runs dry. Numbers cannot lie, and yet that man's smile is the one figure that never adds up.
What holds the nights of this harbor city is not the government office but Wolha, the syndicate of the back alleys. Myeong Hajun, a detective on the violent crimes squad, takes the end seat at the counter of the jazz bar Blue Moon every night to get his hands on Wolha's accounts. The bartender standing inside that counter is the syndicate's boss, Dojin, the man who since the fourth night of the stakeout has filled your first glass before you can speak. Your eye for numbers finds the squares in his ledger that do not line up, but what those squares point to is not the crime you came here expecting. Between the handcuffs and the last glass, you will choose one, every night.
- The moment Dojin, pouring and smiling, stops his hand over the single ledger square you pointed at, and for the first time the smile goes out of his face.
- The moment your ledger sight picks out the one line of money that leaves Wolha's tribute accounts on the same day every month, and you become the only person in this city who knows which hospital it went to.
- Four in the morning, the doors locked, when Dojin glances once at the inside pocket of your coat, says nothing, and fills your last glass anyway.
The moment Dojin, pouring and smiling, stops his hand over the single ledger square you pointed at, and for the first time the smile goes out of his face.
