Kim Yeo-jin?
He’d never exchanged messages with her either.
Frowning, Hoon shook his head again.
“Why? What’s going on?”
Was there some kind of issue? A flicker of doubt passed through him, but Bae Jung-yoon tapped his fingers against the table a few times, then replied in a playful tone, as if the question had been nothing serious to begin with.
“Just saying—if someone’s giving you trouble behind your back, you can tell me.”
‘Someone giving me trouble?’ That was about as random as it got.
Hoon fell silent for a moment, simply observing Bae Jung-yoon. What was he getting at? What did he mean by bringing that up out of nowhere?
But no matter how long he stared, there was no way to read whatever was hidden behind that polished face of his.
And yet, what left a strange itch beneath his skin wasn’t the joke itself, but the fact that someone had even said something like that to him in the first place.
Even when something upsetting happened, even when he was treated unfairly, he’d long gotten used to swallowing it all down on his own.
The director at Yeongsol Orphanage, who’d looked after him, was undeniably a good person—but the nature of a group facility like that simply didn’t allow for detailed, individual care.
Having been raised there since he was a baby, Go Hoon naturally learned how not to expect affection from others, how to keep petty emotions bottled up, how not to show vulnerability.
Even when things were difficult, he never asked for help. He tried to handle everything on his own, because deep down, he’d always known—there was no one in the world who’d listen to just him.
And yet here was Bae Jung-yoon, casually tossing a pebble into the still waters of everything Hoon had taken for granted.
“I’m not some helpless little kid who can’t handle himself.”
He wasn’t his guardian or his teacher or anything like that, and yet he was telling him to speak up if anyone was bullying him—as if he’d secretly go deal with them if Hoon just snitched.
It was so absurd that Hoon let out a dry chuckle and took a sip of water.
The gulp moistened his lips and throat, but strangely, his thirst only worsened. He swallowed that down too, fiddling absentmindedly with the empty glass.
***
As soon as he got home, Go Hoon collapsed on the floor.
Once he’d parted ways with Bae Jung-yoon, the tension that had been coiled inside him completely unraveled, leaving him drained.
Somehow, today felt like it had dragged on forever—even though his real work for the day hadn’t even started yet.
Still, thanks to eating dinner early, there was plenty of time left before his part-time shift began.
He pulled a small pillow from the neatly folded bedding pile and shoved it haphazardly under his neck, then sprawled out on his back.
That was when his gaze drifted toward the black laptop bag tossed in the corner.
“…Maybe I was too standoffish.”
Since Hoon had shown his displeasure, Bae Jung-yoon hadn’t brought up the laptop again.
Looking back, it felt like he’d been a bit too prideful about it. What was the big deal about borrowing something from a guy with money? It wasn’t like it was brand new—he’d even said it was a spare.
Even thinking that, though, a small voice of conscience nagged at him from within—taking something like that so easily just didn’t sit right.
“Ugh, whatever. Forget it.”
There was no point in playing tug-of-war between the two options—it was already water under the bridge anyway.
Shaking his head in frustration, Hoon let out a long sigh. The only sound in the room was the ticking of the second hand on the clock.
Then, out of nowhere, an image invaded his mind.
“You’re completely lost in your own world.”
Bae Jung-yoon’s face, the one he’d just seen up close, swirled through his thoughts.
That peculiar gaze of his—eyes that held inky black pupils, each shaped differently yet equally mesmerizing—and the feel of his breath lingering by Hoon’s lips.
And just like that, his memory drifted even further back.
The image of Bae Jung-yoon jerking off to a porn video shimmered in his mind like a ghost.
“Ugh, why the hell do I keep thinking about this shit?”
Flipping over abruptly, Hoon buried his face into the pillow.
He shook his head back and forth, trying to shake the thoughts away.
It wasn’t enough.
So he pulled out his phone from his pocket. ‘Just distract yourself.’
With that conclusion, he opened the secondhand marketplace app again and revisited a listing he’d saved.
[16-inch screen with the latest CPU, 16GB memory and 256GB SSD. Barely used since purchase—still in great condition. Eligible for brand warranty service.]
“…Maybe I should just buy this one.”
After mulling it over for a bit, Hoon tapped the chat button and sent a message to the seller.
He waited.
But even after dozens of minutes, the other party hadn’t responded.
With a sigh, he pushed the phone aside.
His gaze wandered up to the ceiling as he blinked slowly.
At some point, without realizing it, he drifted off to sleep.
He dreamed.
In a damp and frigid alley, Go Hoon sat crouched all alone.
“Fuckin’ hell… I’m so goddamn lonely…”
His slurred muttering came out soaked in booze.
The stench of alcohol filled the air with every exhale.
Whoosh—
A cold gust of wind swept down the narrow street, echoing as it passed.
He stared blankly into space, blinking slowly, when a pair of figures appeared in the distance.
Two women, likely a mother and daughter, were walking arm in arm, quickening their pace as they approached.
They soon passed right by Hoon.
Maybe it was the sight of a clearly drunk man sitting on the ground that unsettled them.
As they walked past, they turned to glance back at him, whispering to each other—an uneasy mix of wariness and concern in their eyes.
The two women bickered in place for a moment before the mother tugged her daughter’s hand, bringing the minor dispute to an end. Soon after, their voices grew distant as they walked away.
Once they disappeared, Go Hoon lowered his heavy eyelids. He had no idea how long he sat there like that.
Meow—
A faint cry pierced his dulled hearing. Instinctively, Hoon tensed his eyelids. When he opened his eyes, a question mark formed in his head.
A black cat…? A cat, pitch black from head to tail, had approached and was now licking the back of his hand. The coarse texture of its tongue tickled his skin. Hoon flinched and curled his fingers.
“What… are you?”
The question came out in a sluggish slur. The black cat lifted its head and looked up at him.
“Mrrrow.”
The feeble cry served as a reply. Whether it was the alcohol he’d poured into his body or the way the autumn wind was especially bitter that night, Hoon found himself interpreting the sound with a tinge of melodrama.
“…Are you alone?”
He asked, and the cat slowly blinked in response.
“Mraow.”
Hoon locked eyes with it through his half-lidded gaze and murmured softly.
“…I see. So you don’t have a family either, huh.”
‘Just like me…’
His voice faded as he reached out a hand toward the cat. Its golden eyes shimmered and drew closer—then the world began to spin.
At some point, as if dropped into utter darkness, Go Hoon opened his eyes. His blurred vision gradually sharpened, and in front of him stood Bae Jung-yoon.
He stood at a distance, watching Hoon. Dressed in a pitch-black long coat, his face looked ghostly pale under the bright moonlight.
Their eyes met—those impassive, unreadable eyes. Eyes that carried a chill cold enough to freeze the heart.
There was a brief blank in his memory. When clarity returned, Bae Jung-yoon was suddenly right in front of him.
“Why are you out here alone? Where’s your owner?”
The soft, low voice reverberated pleasantly in his ears. Just as he reached a hand toward him—
Hoon jolted awake.
“Haaah…”
A ragged breath burst from his open mouth, like someone who’d nearly drowned.
Tick, tick, tick. Only the second hand of the clock ticked steadily in his ears. In his flickering vision, a dingy, mold-spotted ceiling came into view.
Though he’d come to his senses, Hoon remained frozen in place, dazed. He stared blankly into space for a long while before murmuring in a sleep-husky voice:
“What the hell kind of stupid dream was that…”
Groaning, Go Hoon sat up. What the hell was that? Just some meaningless dream? Or a fragmented scene reconstructed from real memories?
The black cat. The memory finally came back to him—he’d met an odd, strangely atmospheric black cat in an alley last week.
Had he seen that cat before? The setting in the dream felt like the night after drinking with the factory guys—the very night before he’d woken up transformed into a cat.
But no matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn’t recall anything concrete. Hoon slapped the back of his flattened head a few times. Everything in his mind was jumbled.
Maybe his unsettled mood was what made the dream such a mess.
Yaaawn. He stretched his mouth wide in a yawn and glanced at the wall clock. For all that he’d passed out cold, he’d only slept for about an hour. There were still two hours left until work.
The weird dream had blown his sleep away.
He picked up his phone, which had been tossed in a corner, and checked the notifications. There was a reply from the secondhand seller. They were currently at work and would message him again at night.
Hoon replied with a simple “Got it,” then instinctively opened the job-hunting app. If he was going to spend a chunk of cash on a laptop, he’d need to pick up a side gig again.
The more money, the better. Who knew when, where, or how some shit might hit the fan?
Like when he spilled coffee and broke his old laptop. Or that time when, out of nowhere, he ended up spending three whole months as a cat and couldn’t work at all.
Of course, the absolute worst-case scenario would be a health crisis. So while he was still physically able and healthy, he had to stack as much cash as possible.
After setting his work location preferences, he hit search. Cafés, restaurants, PC bangs, convenience stores, logistics centers… He scrolled through the list, eyes scanning line by line, until his finger stopped on one post.
‘…Maybe I should try delivery work.’
Courier delivery. The words suddenly jumped out at him.
Thinking it through, delivery riding seemed like the best part-time option to pick up whenever he had free time. It offered the most flexibility. These days, lots of people did it as a second job since you could just work when you wanted.
To work as a rider, he’d need a vehicle—either a motorcycle or a bicycle. Walking just seemed too inefficient for the time spent, and to catch a good number of orders, a bike would definitely be better.
Still, buying or renting a bike for a part-time job wasn’t exactly cheap. The startup cost alone was a burden. It was like spending more on the plate than the meal.
There was no guarantee he’d be making good money right off the bat, and if the job didn’t suit him, that’d be a whole lot of wasted effort. He’d need to test the waters first.
Considering everything, it’d be best to start with a bicycle for a few months. If it felt manageable as a side hustle, then maybe he could look for a used motorbike later.
A bike cost less to maintain, after all—and the fact that it didn’t use gas was the biggest advantage.
With that settled, Hoon typed “bicycle” into the search bar of the secondhand app. At the same time, his penny-pinching instinct kicked in. He was already about to spend a hefty amount on a laptop—was it really the right time to buy a bike too?
‘Maybe I can snag one for free somewhere.’
Half-joking and shameless as the thought was, it lingered in his mind. And suddenly, someone popped into his head.
Eyes darting, Go Hoon dug through his contacts and found a familiar name.
Yoon Seong-gon.
He hesitated for a moment, wondering whether or not to call—and then, he pressed the call button.
