“Nothing, right? Fuck.”
The low curse was frightening. The man’s expression, barely visible from the corner of his eye, was even more frightening. So Geun-yeong lowered his already bowed head even further.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, so why are you getting beaten? When someone is going to beat you and ties your arms, why are you offering your wrists?”
“…”
Come to think of it, that’s how it was. When told to hold out his arms to be tied, he would extend his wrists. When told he’d be hit, he would lie face down. When told he’d be penetrated, he would spread his legs and offer himself. At first, it was to survive. Later, it was because everything felt tiresome. And now, after all that, he’d run away because he couldn’t take it anymore. The man who had made him want to live again by threatening to kill him if he kept saying he wanted to die, continued speaking.
“A guy with functional arms and legs would at least try to run away. Aren’t you a medical student? You’re not a moron or an idiot, so why were you just sitting there taking it!”
The man’s speech, not hiding his irritation, grew increasingly rough, and eventually, he even raised his voice. Feeling extremely self-conscious, Geun-yeong fidgeted with his sleeves pulled down over his hands.
The man seemed angry now. No, he was definitely angry. If he was this upset just seeing the marks where his wrists had been tied, talking about the sexual encounters would probably make him grab Geun-yeong by the collar after stopping the car in the middle of the road.
Geun-yeong looked at the man with his eyes darting sideways while keeping his head down. The moment the man’s head moved, sensing his gaze, Geun-yeong quickly withdrew his eyes and looked down at his feet. He pretended he had been looking at his feet the whole time.
By the way, why was this man so angry? That was a bit strange. Especially since he was a gangster whose job involved beating people up. Above all, he wasn’t even “that” Kyung Jiho who had told him to stay healthy and said they’d meet again. Anyway, it seemed like he shouldn’t say anything more if he didn’t want to provoke the man’s anger further.
Not realizing that he hadn’t actually said anything himself, but that the man with a detective-level intuition for crime had figured it out through the atmosphere and subtle cues, Geun-yeong clutched his seatbelt with his hands covered by his sleeves and made a resolution. He needed to be careful with his words from now on.
The car, which wasn’t driving smoothly due to the driver’s anger, passed through Cheongdam-dong. Both the angry driver and the man with his head down knew that he had increased his speed a bit while passing through that area.
From there, they drove on Olympic-daero for about thirty minutes. They passed a sports complex named after a district, a large traditional market, and one each of an elementary and middle school. Thanks to that, Geun-yeong could learn the name of this neighborhood.
After learning the place name, they drove a bit further, and the man’s car began to slow down at a row house complex located behind a small marketplace.
This was a neighborhood Geun-yeong had never visited before in his life. From the moment they exited the straight main road and entered the inner city streets, he already couldn’t figure out the way back. That fact was slightly frightening but also very reassuring. It was encouraging to know he had escaped from the world he had been circling like a hamster wheel for the past few years.
* * *
The row house complex had no separate parking facilities. Between the parallel-parked vehicles, there was a space just big enough for one car. It seemed to be a spot that others didn’t dare to attempt parking in due to the difficulty, but the man performed the feat of parking there and turned off the engine.
“Get out.”
As he said this, the man was already getting out of the car. Geun-yeong took a moment to catch his breath. Though not naturally slow-moving, right now every action required caution. He unfastened his seatbelt, twisted his upper body, and reached to grab his bag from the back seat. Or tried to.
“Oh!”
Just before Geun-yeong could grasp it, the bag was snatched away by the man who had somehow opened the rear door and reached in. After withdrawing his hand that had lost its target in mid-air and turning back around, he heard, “I said get out.”
The man who had taken the bag from the back seat had already opened the door where Geun-yeong was sitting, and urged the startled Geun-yeong, who had shrunk back in surprise, to get out.
The atmosphere suggested that any more hesitation would result in a severe scolding or even being hit. Geun-yeong, who was not at all lacking in social awareness, hurriedly got out of the car.
He stretched out his arm, intending to receive the bag. Just as his fingertips were about to touch the strap, the man turned around and took large strides toward the entrance of the row house.
The man moved so quickly, and thanks to his long legs, his stride was so large that Geun-yeong had to almost run to follow him.
The man, whose height made it awkward to climb one step at a time, ascended two steps at once to match his leg length. He carried Geun-yeong’s bag in one hand, with the other hand thrust into the pocket of his dark jeans that were nearly black.
Following about four steps behind, Geun-yeong furtively observed the man’s back. Even from behind, the man somehow looked menacing. Perhaps because of that, or perhaps because climbing the stairs was making him breathless, Geun-yeong’s heart was pounding. While glancing at the back view of this unmistakable gangster, front or back, Geun-yeong also hurried up the stairs.
The man who had been climbing the stairs without hesitation finally stopped at the third floor, the top floor of the row house. Stretching his hand upward, he reached into a hole created by a broken emergency exit sign that wasn’t lit and pulled out a key.
Seeing this, Geun-yeong was momentarily dumbfounded but quickly accepted it. A key placed where only the man could reach by fully extending his arm would probably be inaccessible to anyone else. Thinking it was actually quite secure, he followed the man who was already opening the door and entering.
Immediately upon entering was a living room combined with a kitchen. There was no sofa, just a table with an ashtray on it that had gray ash stuck to the bottom.
On top of a simple storage cabinet placed in front of the table was a TV about the size of the computer in Geun-yeong’s room. And next to the table and cabinet, in front of the door leading to the veranda, stood a clothes drying rack. Black socks were hanging on the rack. Next to them were more black socks, more black socks, and black…
After identifying the black pieces of cloth hanging on the drying rack, Geun-yeong hurriedly turned his head to look at the kitchen.
On the sink counter, which had wooden pattern contact paper peeling off in places, was a two-burner gas stove, and on the shelf were a microwave and a rice cooker.
Overall, it was old and mostly outdated models, but everything that should be there was present. Since everything was old and worn, it couldn’t be said to look clean at a glance, but it wasn’t particularly messy either—that kind of place. Above all, thanks to the beige wallpaper and wooden moldings, it gave an overall warm feeling. Whether the wallpaper was originally beige or was initially white, that was unknown.
After finishing his visual inspection, he became curious about the faint smell that touched his nose. Geun-yeong carefully inhaled, making sure his breathing sound or chest movement wouldn’t be noticeable. There was a burnt smell, probably tobacco since a smoker lived here. It wasn’t exactly fragrant, but it wasn’t particularly bad either. It was similar to the scent that brushed past when getting somewhat close to the man, what you might call, subtly sexy—
“What are you doing standing there like an idiot.”
Geun-yeong was startled enough to jump, and steadied himself by gripping the shoe rack while trying to calm his racing heart.
The man, who had been watching the guy rolling his eyes at the entrance while drinking water straight from a bottle he’d taken from the refrigerator, asked:
“What? Want to go back to Cheongdam-dong now?”
“No!”
Answering almost with a shout, Geun-yeong quickly took off his shoes and stepped into the house. And then he stopped again. His bag that the man had carried was beside the table with the ashtray, but he didn’t know where he himself should be. Whether he could sit next to the bag. Or if he should do some housework or something.
“Um… what… should I do?”
Geun-yeong asked while fidgeting with his fingers, his hands clasped together in front of him. He definitely wasn’t trying to act cute. It was an automatic posture of submission because the man, much larger than the refrigerator, was standing there holding a 2L water bottle that looked small in his enormous hands, with his other hand on his hip. Ready to do whatever he was told.
“Want some water?”
Taking this as a command, Geun-yeong walked over with small steps and held out his hands. If told to drink water, he would drink it.
The man, looking down at the guy who had politely extended both hands, twisted at the waist and took down a cup from above the sink. Then he poured about half a cup and held it out. It was ambiguous whether the guy was genuinely thirsty or just drinking because he was told to. So he only poured half a cup.
Geun-yeong drained the half cup of water in one go, conscious of the man’s observant gaze. Afraid he would be scolded if he left anything, he drank until the end, making a slurping sound from the empty cup.
Just then, a loud vibration was heard. The situation was so quiet that even such a small sound echoed loudly, and Geun-yeong was startled yet again. The cup that nearly went flying was caught by the man with good reflexes.
After placing the cup on the sink counter, the man answered his phone. With his hands free and nothing to do, Geun-yeong once again stood like a borrowed sack of barley.
“Yeah. Tell me. Did they find drugs? Okay. I’m coming now.”
There had been a rumor that Chinese-made methamphetamine was circulating within the organization managed by Kyung Jiho’s team. Since illegal immigrant women entering via China were often used as drug mules, they had rounded up several foreign illegal residents from suspicious establishments. After putting the women in holding cells for protection, they searched their residences. From one of those places, they had found disposable syringes primarily used for injecting distilled methamphetamine.
After ending the call, Kyung Jiho looked at the guy who was again clasping his hands together and fidgeting.
“It’s not a place… you can come along to.”
It was an inn in the back alleys of Miari, commonly called a “red-light district,” and this guy standing there fidgeting with his fingers would be completely out of place.
“Just stay here for now. If there’s anything you want to sell, go ahead and sell it.”
“What? No! I mean, no sir. I won’t do that.”
Looking at the guy waving his hands with a serious expression, Kyung Jiho burst into laughter. He should stop joking since this guy didn’t take jokes as jokes.