Winter season volume 1

Ipdong: The Beginning of Winter

A tree branch, unable to bear the weight of the snow, snapped with a sharp crack and fell to the ground. At the same moment, a howl resembling that of a wild animal echoed from somewhere in the distance.

 

“Hyungnim, everything’s ready.”

 

Beneath the bare trees covered in pure white snow, a man stood at a slight angle, smoking a cigarette. He gave the metal drum in front of him a casual kick, sending a shower of bright red sparks rising from the burning logs, which flickered with orange flames and radiated heat.

 

“Oi, put that out. You’ll melt all the snow.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

At his single command, the burly men standing behind him hurried into action. The man carelessly dropped his nearly finished cigarette onto the snow and headed towards the gathering of people in the centre. Beside the footprints left by his polished shoes, the glowing red tip of the cigarette slowly faded. Snow stretched endlessly in every direction. Everywhere he looked, the landscape was completely white. It was difficult to believe that the vast, peaceful expanse of snow was actually a frozen lake. Seunghyuk raised the toe of his shoe and tapped the surface a few times. Taesik, who was following behind him, hurriedly tried to stop him, his face turning pale.

 

“Bloody hell, Hyungnim! You’ll break the ice!”

 

“Don’t be so dramatic. If the ice were thin enough to break from that, those idiots wouldn’t need to go through all that trouble.”

 

Seunghyuk gestured with his chin towards the men gathered ahead, holding an enormous drill, before slipping both hands into his coat pockets. The cold was vicious, cutting through the gaps in his collar. Wanting to finish quickly and return to the car, Seunghyuk quickened his pace. With every step, the snow crunched beneath the soles of his shoes. Hearing the approaching footsteps, a man sitting tied to a chair slowly raised his head.

 

He must have been over sixty. Grey hairs were scattered throughout his hair, and his lips were split and bleeding. Dried blood clung to a wound near his torn forehead. His nose appeared broken, and his entire face was so badly swollen that it was almost unbearable to look at. Seunghyuk frowned involuntarily.

 

“Tsk.”

 

The older man’s unfocused eyes slowly travelled upwards, taking in Seunghyuk’s black shoes, the perfectly straight legs of his suit trousers and the long hem of his coat. His terrified gaze passed over the red floral-patterned shirt and finally settled on Seunghyuk’s expressionless face. He jerked violently, trembling as though he had just seen the Grim Reaper himself.

 

“D-Director Gu…?”

 

With his arms and legs bound to the crude wooden chair, he had severely restricted movement. His frantic struggling caused the smell of blood to spread through the cold air once again. The crease between Seunghyuk’s brows deepened.

 

“W-Wait! Just wait a moment! Please listen to me! The Chairman… the Chairman must have misunderstood something!”

 

The man stared desperately up at Seunghyuk, but Seunghyuk merely rubbed a finger against his ear as though the pleading were irritating him.

 

“Ah, honestly. You old men never come up with anything original when you’re making excuses.”

 

His face remained expressionless as he looked down at him. There wasn’t a trace of warmth in his gaze. Yet to President Park, who had been stripped of everything and left tied to a chair, this man was his only lifeline. President Park struggled as though attempting to kneel, but all he managed to do was reopen his wounds, sending more blood trickling down his face. As the metallic smell grew stronger, Seunghyuk grimaced again and pulled his head back.

 

“Good grief, old man… Will you stay still? Eh? I can smell your blood.”

 

Seunghyuk lazily scraped together some snow with his shoe and kicked it towards the chair. The finely crushed snow scattered like shaved ice over the bloodstains that had dyed the pristine white ground a vivid red.

 

“Please, just speak to the Chairman for me one more time, will you? You know me! How many years have I worked with Taeseong? I’ve been there since the Chairman first started his business. It’s already been thirty years!”

 

His lips had turned blue from the cold and fear, but the desperate words continued spilling out.

 

“Do you really think I’d do something like that just for money? Someone’s stirring up trouble behind the scenes! I’m telling you!”

 

Seunghyuk looked down at him with an expression of exaggerated sympathy. Then he crooked a finger towards one of the large men standing nearby.

 

“Oi. Come here.”

 

Despite his enormous build, the man approached immediately, his hands clasped politely in front of him. Seunghyuk clicked his tongue several times before striking the back of the man’s head without hesitation.

 

Thwack!

 

The sound echoed across the frozen lakeside.

 

“You little bastards. Thirty years ago, you were barely born, learning to walk while holding your mothers’ hands. Haven’t you ever heard of respecting your elders? The poor old bastard’s going to die soon enough. Why the hell are you treating him so roughly?”

 

“S-Sorry, sir!”

 

“Hurry up and untie him.”

 

The burly man, still reeling from the blow, quickly straightened himself and hurried towards President Park. When he pulled a sharp folding knife from his pocket, President Park went rigid. But the keen blade merely sliced through the cable ties around his wrists and ankles before disappearing back into its sheath.

 

“Taesik, go and fetch President Park’s little present. The drill.”

 

“Yes, Hyungnim.”

 

Taesik nodded sharply and hurried towards the edge of the lake where he had been standing earlier. Seunghyuk tilted his head, lit another cigarette and inhaled deeply.

 

“Ugh… Haa…”

 

Although his arms and legs were now free, President Park could only stare blankly at the man standing before him, watching his cheeks hollow with each drag of the cigarette. He couldn’t tell whether Seunghyuk’s remark that he would die soon was merely an expression or a prediction of what was about to happen. But when he met those bored-looking eyes through the rising smoke from his cigarette, he finally dropped to his knees in the snow. Pressing his forehead against Seunghyuk’s gleaming shoes, he clutched desperately at the hem of his trousers. Seunghyuk frowned.

 

“D-Director…! Please, spare me just this once! I’ll go to the Chairman myself and explain everything!”

 

His voice broke into sobs.

 

“I… I think some of the people working under me must have made a mistake. I genuinely didn’t know anything about—”

 

“Shh.”

 

The middle-aged man was so desperate to proclaim his innocence that he seemed completely unaware of the icy water seeping up from beneath the lake and soaking the hems of his trousers. Of course, the fact that his excuses contradicted one another was another problem entirely. Barely listening to the man’s pleas, Seunghyuk tilted his head towards the unusually clear blue sky and exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke. Then he noticed the small hole drilled into the ice ahead of them. It wasn’t even a metre wide. He let out a short sigh.

 

“I told you bastards, to make the hole nice and neat.”

 

How many times had they done this now? Yet their ability to drill holes in the ice hadn’t improved in the slightest. He’d personally bought them a machine after seeing how conveniently ice fishermen used them. But those idiots always insisted on relying on brute force.

 

“D-Director Gu… No, young Seunghyuk! I watched you grow up! I’ve known you since you first joined the Gu family… I watched you grow up beside the Chairman!”

 

The ridiculous form of address, coupled with the rather desperate appeal, finally caught Seunghyuk’s attention. He rolled his stiff neck before lowering his head. President Park looked up at him with eyes so badly bloodshot that even the whites had turned red. The sight was enough to make anyone grimace. He looked more like a lump of battered meat than a human being. Raising one eyebrow, Seunghyuk effortlessly freed his leg from the man’s grip and pushed him backwards by the shoulder with his foot.

 

President Park was trembling too violently with fear to notice the subtle change in Seunghyuk’s expression. Instead, he desperately scrabbled at the snow-covered ground and continued speaking.

 

“Surely you, of all people, can help me… I’m innocent. I swear I’m innocent!”

 

His despair-filled eyes were now fixed on empty space. Only then did he seem to realise how pointless it was to beg for mercy from someone whose sculpted face held not a trace of warmth. With a small grunt, Seunghyuk crouched in front of him.

 

“President Park, why did you go around doing things that would make people suspicious of you?”

 

“S-Seunghyuk…”

 

Seunghyuk clicked his tongue and casually tapped the ash from his cigarette right in front of the man’s face. President Park’s frightened pupils trembled as his gaze settled on Seunghyuk beyond the falling ash.

 

“I don’t want to do this either, you know. But Chairman Gu always makes me handle this sort of thing.”

 

“P-Please…”

 

“You’ve known me for so long. Surely you understand better than anyone that I can’t defy Chairman Gu or my older brother.”

 

Although his eyes remained cold and bleak, the corners of his beautifully shaped lips curved into a smile. The mocking tone of his voice made President Park’s body stiffen. His gaze began darting about nervously. Seunghyuk placed the cigarette between his lips and slipped a hand into the inside pocket of his jacket. What he pulled out was a small Barbie doll with blonde hair and a pink dress. He dangled it before President Park’s bloodshot eyes.

 

The man’s already deathly pale face took on an almost bluish tinge.

 

“Let’s see… Usually, dolls like this are hollow inside. But this one’s rather heavy.”

 

Seunghyuk tilted his head.

 

“Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”

 

“N-No… How did you…?”

 

“I imagine there must be several more boxes of dolls that look exactly like this.”

 

He smiled faintly.

 

“Would you happen to know where they are, President Park?”

 

“I-I don’t know! I swear I don’t know anything about them!”

 

Seunghyuk gave a sinister smile. The look of utter horror spreading across the man’s battered face was simply too obvious. Judging by the way he kept stammering the same desperate denial, there was little point in asking any further questions. Seunghyuk placed both hands on his knees and stood up.

 

“Director Gu, wait! Just—”

 

“President Park, you can continue that thirty-year friendship with the old man in the afterlife.”

 

Seunghyuk grabbed a fistful of the man’s hair and forced his head to remain still. Before President Park could say anything else, Seunghyuk pressed the burning tip of his cigarette directly into the skin between his eyebrows. The man’s eyes widened as though they were about to burst from their sockets.

 

“Ugh… Uhh…”

 

His dried, bloodstained lips slowly parted. Then a low groan escaped his throat, sounding like something from a zombie film. Seunghyuk grimaced at the sight of the skin blistering beneath the cigarette. Nevertheless, he maintained the pressure until the glowing tip had completely gone out.

 

“AAAAARGH!”

 

The cigarette butt dropped onto the blood-spattered snow. A heartbeat later, the man’s agonised scream echoed across the frozen landscape. The burly men standing behind him hurriedly seized his arms, holding him firmly in place as he writhed in pain. Taesik, who had returned without Seunghyuk noticing, stepped forward and offered him a handkerchief.

 

“Hyungnim, I’ve brought what you asked for.”

 

Seunghyuk turned his head. Behind Taesik stood several large men struggling to carry a boulder roughly half the size of an adult’s torso. As he wiped the blood from his hands with the handkerchief, Seunghyuk gestured towards President Park with his chin.

 

“Make sure you tie him up nice and loosely. As a special favour.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

Having given his instructions, Seunghyuk rubbed the sole of his shoe against the pristine white snow. Pale red bloodstains began spreading across the surface like watercolour paint soaking into paper. He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and glanced around. When he noticed the men struggling to carry the boulder, their arms trembling beneath its weight, he clicked his tongue.

 

“Oi, boys. Do you lot fancy going for a swim too?”

 

“N-No, sir!”

 

“Then you’d better start exercising properly.”

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

Seunghyuk shook his head at the sight of them standing rigidly to attention. He surveyed the ground around him. The once-white snow had been dirtied by scattered bloodstains, an unidentified yellowish liquid and mud transferred from the soles of their shoes. He turned towards Taesik.

 

“When you’re finished, don’t forget to bring some water over and clean all this up properly.”

 

“Understood, Hyungnim. Are you heading home? Shall I assign someone to accompany you?”

 

“No need. Instead, tell them to gather some of the boys at Nexus.”

 

“Right away, Hyungnim.”

 

Taesik hesitated.

 

“Those who can come immediately at this hour… Wait, Nexus?”

 

Standing beside Seunghyuk and watching the other members of the organisation, Taesik raised his head in confusion. Seunghyuk frowned and swept his fallen hair back with one hand.

 

“I’m curious about just how bloody impressive the place is for Chairman Gu to have guarded it so carefully.”

 

“Tell the manager to get everything ready. The best they can manage.”

 

“Let’s have a little look around before the keys are officially handed over.”

 

“Ah, understood. I’ll finish preparing everything here and come to collect you immediately.”

 

Seunghyuk nodded and turned away. Behind him came a sudden commotion. There were muffled groans, as though someone had clamped a hand over another person’s mouth, mixed with harsh threats telling the victim to stay still because it would all be over soon. Seunghyuk didn’t look back. He simply walked towards the car parked in the distance.

 

A short while later, a loud splash echoed across the snow-covered lakeside. For several moments, there were faint sounds of water churning. Then even those disappeared, swallowed by the snow and the surrounding silence. In the deathly stillness, the only sound that remained was the crunch of snow beneath Seunghyuk’s polished black shoes. He rubbed the stiffness from the back of his neck and quickened his pace. The rope connecting the man’s legs to the heavy boulder would come loose after a few desperate struggles, allowing the stone to sink to the bottom of the lake. For one brief moment, the man might believe he could survive.

 

If he could simply swim upwards, perhaps he could reach the surface. But that fleeting hope would shatter the moment he encountered the thick sheet of ice covering the lake. Even if he pounded against it with his fists until his knuckles were crushed, it would make no difference. The ice was so solidly frozen that even machinery struggled to break through it. Only then would he finally understand. Something had gone terribly, terribly wrong.

 

Human beings only recognised their mistakes once everything had happened and there was no longer any possibility of turning back. Pale sunlight filtered through the overcast sky, which looked as though it might release another snowfall at any moment. The light settled over the thick blanket of snow, reflecting softly from its surface. A bitter, bone-chilling wind swept across Seunghyuk’s expressionless face, almost as though protesting against what had taken place beside the peaceful lake.

 

White clouds of breath dissolved before his lips. As the long hem of his coat swayed with every step, the footprints left behind him grew more firmly embedded in the snow. Those hardened footprints followed Seunghyuk like a series of permanent brands.

 

The music from the stage bounced around the room, reverberating against the walls until it became an unpleasant, monotonous thudding. Combined with the sound of water running from the tap, the noise made Ihyeon want to clamp both hands firmly over his ears. Unfortunately, his hands were already occupied with a damp sponge and a slippery plate. Unable to do anything about the noise, he settled for gently biting his lower lip.

 

The mountain of dirty dishes was finally beginning to disappear. Most had only been used to serve fruit or crackers, so washing them wasn’t nearly as difficult as scrubbing pots covered in stubborn grease. The problem was their ridiculous size. Some were so large that holding them with one hand was difficult. After rinsing the soap from the plate he’d been cleaning, Ihyeon clenched his fist tightly and stretched his fingers. Only then did he notice how stiff his hand had become. He glanced around the kitchen. There didn’t appear to be any more dishes waiting to be washed. Once he’d disposed of the food waste sitting in the corner of the worktop, he could finally call it a day.

 

“Haah…”

 

Letting out a short sigh, Ihyeon reached for another plate in the sink. He squeezed some washing-up liquid onto the sponge and began wiping the black glass surface. Just then, a familiar voice called out from behind him.

 

“Ihyeon, hurry up and finish. They’ve told everyone to gather in the main hall for a moment.”

 

Ihyeon turned his head. A man was leaning casually against the kitchen entrance. It was Subin, the person he was closest to at work. Hearing his words, Ihyeon instinctively glanced at the wall clock. Then, rather than answering, he sighed.

 

6:30 a.m.

 

Even if he went straight home, he’d barely have time to sleep for a few hours before having to get up again. The last thing he wanted was to be summoned to some pointless meeting. To make matters worse, the club had extended its closing time by an hour because it was the end of the year. Even if he finished cleaning as quickly as possible, he’d be lucky to leave before seven. If he had to attend a staff meeting first, he’d end up travelling home during the morning rush hour.

 

“…Now?”

 

The thought of riding the bus alongside neatly dressed office workers while he reeked of cigarette smoke was unpleasant enough. Standing among those respectable-looking people, exhausted and surrounded by the lingering smell of alcohol, occasionally filled him with an inexplicable sense of shame and helplessness. Ihyeon wasn’t the sort of person who was easily swayed by his emotions. Nevertheless, it was hardly a pleasant feeling.

 

“Yeah. They’ve sent the part-timers home, but all the permanent staff have to come downstairs. I don’t think it’ll take long.”

 

“Did something happen downstairs?”

 

Determined to finish what he was doing, Ihyeon continued scrubbing the plate. Meanwhile, Subin stepped further into the kitchen.

 

“Not really. Apparently, the club’s owner suddenly announced he’s coming.”

 

Subin laughed.

 

“The manager’s going completely mental, wiping everything down and trying to get the place spotless.”

 

As he spoke, Subin moved closer until he was practically pressed against Ihyeon’s back. Ihyeon leaned slightly towards the sink to avoid him. But Subin merely grinned, apparently amused by his reaction, and lightly touched his pale earlobe.

 

“…This place actually has an owner?”

 

“Remember those rumours about the guards at the entrance and on the third basement floor being gangsters? I reckon he’s connected to them.”

 

The fingers that had been gently squeezing Ihyeon’s soft earlobe moved along the curve of his ear before drifting towards his cheek and the back of his neck. The sensation was like an insect crawling across his skin. The fine hairs on Ihyeon’s body stood on end, and he twisted away slightly. Subin used his other hand to stroke Ihyeon’s waist soothingly.

 

“Why don’t you stay and rest for a while after all this is finished?”

 

His suggestive voice tickled Ihyeon’s ear. But Ihyeon shook his head, pushed Subin’s face away and resumed scrubbing the plate.

 

“I can’t. I’ve got another shift later.”

 

Subin pouted slightly at the firm refusal. Even so, he wasn’t ready to give up. The hand resting on Ihyeon’s waist slowly wandered lower.

 

“Are you still working part-time at that sundae-guk restaurant?”

 

“I told you, I can just give you some spending money.”

 

“…”

 

“Working through the night must be exhausting enough already. How much do they pay you? Hyung can easily give you that much.”

 

Despite the seductive whispers continuing beside his ear, Ihyeon’s movements remained steady. His expression was calm as he watched the soap bubbles disappear beneath the running water. After placing the final plate on the drying rack, he shook the water from his hands. Subin was still looking at him expectantly. His hand was now openly stroking Ihyeon’s bottom. Only after drying his hands with a tea towel did Ihyeon turn around and take hold of Subin’s firm wrist.

 

“Hyung, you know.”

 

“I don’t accept money like that.”

 

His answer was calm but unmistakably firm. Subin clicked his tongue and finally withdrew his hand. With an awkward smile, he scratched the back of his neck and stepped back.

 

“All right, all right. I was only saying it because I worry about you.”

 

“…”

 

“Finished washing up? Shall we go downstairs together?”

 

“No, you go ahead. I’ve just got to take the rubbish out.”

 

Ihyeon gestured towards the pile of cardboard stacked in the corner of the kitchen. Subin looked disappointed, but he merely patted Ihyeon’s shoulder a couple of times and smiled gently.

 

“The boss should be arriving soon. Don’t spend too long messing about.”

 

“Okay.”

 

After giving Ihyeon one last smile, Subin turned and left the kitchen. Ihyeon watched him disappear through the doorway before pressing his lips together. Subin was someone he occasionally spent the night with. He liked the fact that Subin preferred uncomplicated sex and didn’t pry into his personal circumstances. That was precisely why Ihyeon didn’t want to introduce unnecessary emotions or anything else that might complicate their arrangement. For a moment, he wondered whether he’d been too harsh. But after thinking about it again, he decided he’d handled the situation appropriately. Subin quickly disappeared from his thoughts.

 

Ihyeon picked up the food-waste bag he’d spotted earlier on the worktop. After adding the remaining fruit peels and food scraps, the large bag was soon full. He hesitated briefly, remembering that he’d been told to hurry downstairs. But leaving a bag of food waste sitting on the worktop didn’t sit well with him. After a moment’s consideration, he tied the bag securely, gathered the cardboard for recycling and headed up the stairs towards the rear exit. Creeeak.

 

The moment he pushed against the cold, stiff door and stepped outside, a sharp gust of wind ruffled his hair. The dry early-morning air carried a faint bluish light, the sort that appeared just before sunrise. The biting cold instantly cleared the drowsiness from his head. He regretted not putting on a coat. But now that he’d already come outside, going back to fetch one seemed pointless. Instead, he quickened his pace. The rubbish area was beside the outdoor car park at the rear of the building. He’d just hurried around the corner when a black saloon car began entering the car park.

 

Pale exhaust fumes swirled through the bright beams of its headlights. A prestigious manufacturer’s emblem was displayed on the vehicle. The moment the wheels stopped moving, several enormous security guards whom Ihyeon recognised from passing through the building hurried over and formed a line. He’d only intended to throw away the rubbish and return inside, but the sight brought him to an involuntary halt. There was little doubt that whoever was inside the car was the owner Subin had mentioned earlier.

 

Judging by the way those intimidating guards stood rigidly to attention, the person about to emerge was probably just as frightening. Not wanting to get caught up in anything troublesome, Ihyeon stepped backwards into the darkness. He decided to wait until the men had gone. His breath dissolved into white clouds in the air. The fingers struggling to hold the heavy rubbish bag had become painfully cold. A fierce wind cut straight through his thin shirt, making him shiver and hunch his shoulders.

 

Just then, the headlights illuminating the darkness suddenly went out. The men standing in line bowed their heads in perfect unison, like well-trained soldiers. Ihyeon unconsciously pressed his lips together. He’d seen things like this in films before, but never in real life. He knew he shouldn’t be standing there watching. Nevertheless, he couldn’t quite tear his eyes away. Click.

 

The driver’s door opened, breaking the unnatural silence. Someone stepped out. With the light behind him, all Ihyeon could see at first was a dark silhouette.

 

“Good morning, sir!”

 

A thick ankle covered by a black sock appeared briefly before disappearing beneath the perfectly tailored hem of a pair of trousers. A moment later, the man’s upper body emerged above the open car door. Rather than the bulky, intimidating figure Ihyeon had expected, the man possessed broad, well-built shoulders, more reminiscent of an athlete who played ball sports. Someone hurried towards him, bowing repeatedly at his side. But the man receiving the greeting didn’t even turn his head to acknowledge him. At that moment, headlights from another direction briefly illuminated his face before disappearing again.

 

The first thing Ihyeon noticed about his profile was his sharply defined nose. Watching the man quietly from the shadows, Ihyeon unconsciously ran the tip of his tongue over his dry lips. He’s… a bit different from what I expected. If it hadn’t been for the enormous guards standing around him with their heads bowed, Ihyeon might have mistaken him for a celebrity visiting the club. The thought was so ridiculous that he let out a small, amused breath before adjusting his grip on the rubbish bag.

 

“Good morning, Director. I’m Kim, the general manager here…”

 

President Kim’s voice drifted faintly through the air. He appeared to be rubbing his hands together as he continued speaking. But the man offered no response whatsoever. He simply walked towards the building entrance. Despite the number of people gathered there, the only sounds Ihyeon could hear were the clicking of the man’s shoes and the occasional quiet voice. Everyone was dressed in such dark clothing that, from a distance, they almost seemed to blend into the night itself.

 

“It’s an honour to meet you, Director Gu. As soon as we heard you were coming to Nexus…”

 

The red floral-patterned shirt shifted through the darkness. For some reason, the sight seemed strangely detached from reality. Perhaps it was because the sharp clicking of those shoes echoed so distinctly with every step. For a brief moment, Ihyeon completely forgot where he was standing. Only after the man who appeared to be the owner had disappeared into the building did the guards gradually begin to lift their heads. They seemed less than pleased about being summoned at such an inconvenient hour.

 

Some began chatting indifferently amongst themselves. Others pulled out packets of cigarettes and gathered in a corner, while a few stretched their stiff necks and shoulders. Even then, Ihyeon continued to stare blankly at the spot where the man had stood. A sharp gust of wind scraped across his exposed fingers and the backs of his hands.

 

“Oi, you bastards! Stop standing around and get back to work!”

 

At someone’s shout, one of the guards approached the abandoned car. The approaching figure and the long shadow stretching towards his feet finally snapped Ihyeon back to his senses. He shivered. Was it because of the cold? An inexplicable chill spread through his body. Biting the inside of his cheek, Ihyeon forced himself to concentrate and hurried towards the rubbish area.

 

The place was a mess. Cigarette ends littered the ground, and cardboard boxes lay scattered everywhere. Some had been kicked out of place. After straightening the boxes and throwing the food waste into the appropriate bin, he was shivering so badly that his teeth had begun to chatter. Hunching his shoulders, Ihyeon turned towards the darkened building. He ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth. Rather than going back through the rear entrance and passing through the kitchen, it would probably be quicker to take the customer lift directly to the main hall.

 

For a moment, he considered stopping at the staff room to grab his coat. But the last thing he wanted was to arrive late and draw the attention of everyone already gathered there. So he hurried into the building’s lobby. He pressed the lift button and rubbed his chilled arms repeatedly. The rustling sound of the fabric seemed unusually loud. After spending hours surrounded by deafening music, he often found that entering such a quiet space left him with a strange, unsettling feeling. And now it was dawn.

 

The silence seemed even heavier. The windowless lobby had poor ventilation, and cold artificial blue lighting washed over the walls. The air felt thick and oppressive, as though the coldest, heaviest part of the day were pressing down on his entire body like a cotton duvet. Exhausted and surrounded by the lingering smells of cigarette smoke and alcohol, Ihyeon leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. He breathed quietly, waiting for the lift to arrive. Then, in the middle of the silent lobby, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed against the floor. Someone else must still be upstairs.

 

Well, at least I’m not the only one running late. The clicking stopped directly beside him. A faint exhalation followed. Then the pungent smell of cigarette smoke drifted towards him. Ihyeon frowned involuntarily. Several years earlier, a small fire had broken out because of a discarded cigarette end. Ever since then, employees had been strictly forbidden from smoking inside the building.

 

There shouldn’t have been any customers remaining at this hour. Perhaps it was a new part-time employee who hadn’t yet learned the rules. If the manager found out, Ihyeon would be the one who had to deal with the trouble. He let out a quiet sigh and slowly opened his eyes. Within his lowered field of vision appeared a pair of polished black shoes and the perfectly tailored hems of dark trousers. Ihyeon lifted his head away from the wall. Then, very slowly, he looked up.

 

‘Those are the eyes of someone who could devour a person.’

 

It was something his grandmother had once said while watching an actress on television. The woman had been beautiful, with irises so dark that her pupils were almost impossible to distinguish and eyes that revealed the whites beneath them. The moment Ihyeon’s gaze met the man standing before him, he remembered watching television with his grandmother all those years ago. He’d thought exactly the same thing when he’d first seen those eyes nine years earlier. And now, seeing them again, that long-forgotten remark flashed through his mind with startling clarity.

 

“…Ah.”

 

Ihyeon’s lips pressed tightly together at the unexpected encounter. It was an instinctively defensive reaction, as though he were trying to conceal even the sound of his breathing. For a fleeting instant, an emotion he hadn’t managed to suppress crossed his otherwise composed face before vanishing. The man standing opposite him showed no sign of surprise, even when their eyes met. His expression remained unchanged as long-buried memories flashed through his mind, overlapping with the face before him.

 

And yet, watching emotions appear and disappear so clearly across Ihyeon’s pale face was strangely amusing. Even though he was no longer a child, he still couldn’t conceal a single expression. That transparency drew a short, involuntary scoff from Seunghyuk.

 

“Oi, Taesik.”

 

“Yes, Hyungnim.”

 

Taesik, who had been standing behind him with his hands clasped behind his back while suppressing a yawn, immediately bowed his head. Seunghyuk lowered the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger and flicked the ash into the air. His unreadable gaze remained fixed on Ihyeon.

 

“Since when did we start selling arse here?”

 

“…Pardon?”

 

“I’m asking whether we’re charging money to let men fuck other men up the arse.”

 

It wasn’t Taesik who first understood the meaning of those icy words. It was Ihyeon. For a brief moment, a sharp glint appeared in his long, slightly upturned eyes.

 

“What are we going to do if they’re spreading diseases around?”

 

The additional remark was delivered almost like a casual mutter. Yet its sharp, chilling edge made it painfully clear who it was intended for. Caught completely off guard by Seunghyuk’s sudden hostility, Taesik stiffened with confusion. Not wanting to provoke his superior further, he answered quickly.

 

“I’ll investigate immediately and report back.”

 

A brief silence settled over the lobby. Having spent many years at Gu Seunghyuk’s side, Taesik recognised that his mood was exceptionally unpleasant. He hurriedly straightened his posture. Ding. The lift, which was unusually slow compared with those in other buildings, finally opened. As the interior came into view, the bright white ceiling lights cast dramatic reflections on its gold-coloured floor. Seunghyuk was the first to move. He stepped inside and turned around.

 

Ihyeon remained exactly where he’d been standing moments earlier, in the same position. Slowly, he raised his eyes. Their gazes met.

 

“Aren’t you getting in?”

 

His voice was low and cold. Standing behind Seunghyuk, Taesik shifted his eyes nervously and gave a small, involuntary shudder. Seunghyuk might have been the superior he trusted and followed more than anyone else, but no one could honestly describe him as particularly kind or polite. Not that he had any need or reason to be. Nevertheless, it was rare for Seunghyuk to display such open hostility towards someone he appeared to be meeting for the first time. That only made Taesik more bewildered.

 

The slightly built man standing outside the lift simply gazed up at Seunghyuk. From where he stood, Taesik couldn’t see Seunghyuk’s expression, but he could tell the two men were looking directly at one another. The young man was strikingly handsome. He was probably one of the club’s employees. Yet despite the suffocating atmosphere that was making even Taesik’s mouth go dry, the man remained remarkably composed. Taesik silently admired his nerve. At the same time, he desperately hoped the stranger would have enough sense to leave.

 

In the midst of the silence, Ihyeon’s lips slowly parted. His voice was much deeper than Seunghyuk remembered. And yet it was also clear.

 

“Please go ahead.”

 

Taesik was just about to sigh in relief, thinking the young man wasn’t foolish enough to share the lift after all. But before he could do so, an icy scoff sounded directly in front of him. Taesik immediately closed his mouth and glanced nervously around. For several seconds, two very different gazes remained entangled. One was so cold it seemed to radiate frost. The other was as indifferent as someone looking at a stone.

 

“Close it.”

 

Seunghyuk continued staring at Ihyeon with an expressionless face. Then he dropped his half-smoked cigarette onto the lift floor. His polished shoe slowly crushed it beneath the sole. An unusual tension hung in the air. A sudden suspicion crossed Taesik’s mind. Could Hyungnim and that man know each other? Maybe he’s connected to those bastards from the Seungri faction?

 

But the young man looked so innocent, almost as though he’d only just graduated. He didn’t seem like someone involved in their world. Nevertheless, Taesik knew perfectly well that when a situation was uncertain, especially when Gu Seunghyuk was in a foul mood, the wisest thing to do was keep his bloody mouth shut. So he merely glanced at the back of Seunghyuk’s dark head and pressed the lift’s close button.

 

The golden doors slowly slid together, separating the two men. Until the very last moment, their eyes remained locked. Then the gap disappeared. The gleaming lift doors reflected a pale face whose expression was impossible to decipher. Ihyeon stood staring quietly at his own reflection. Only after a while did he finally release a short breath. Even though he was indoors, a faint cloud of condensation formed before his lips. The cold he’d momentarily forgotten wrapped itself around his body again. He shivered slightly, like someone about to sneeze after opening a dusty old photo album.

 

Somewhere deep inside his mind, a warning seemed to be sounding. Beep. Beep. Danger. But Ihyeon deliberately ignored it. The staff who had come downstairs earlier were gathered in small groups throughout the main hall. Because of the nature of their work, most of them were sociable and enjoyed meeting and talking with others.

 

Despite their exhausted expressions, they chatted and giggled amongst themselves. Ihyeon didn’t join them. Instead, he stood in a corner, leaning against the wall as though trying to hide. He wasn’t particularly friendly towards other people to begin with. And right now, he couldn’t imagine casually chatting and laughing with anyone. Despite his outwardly calm expression, his heart was pounding as though he’d just completed a hundred-metre sprint. Every time he felt his pulse throbbing at his temples, an inexplicable anxiety spread through his entire body.

 

He pressed the back of his head against the wall and rubbed a hand across his mouth. His fingertips felt cold. He clenched his fist tightly, as though trying to seize something in the empty air. But all he experienced was a strange sensation of unreality. Gu Seunghyuk. It was a face he hadn’t encountered, even by chance, since transferring schools, almost as though he’d been driven out during his final year of secondary school.

 

Nine years had passed. And the man he’d just met looked completely different from the person in his memories. The lips that had once been split and bloodied more often than they were uninjured were now firmly closed, their colour a deep red. Even the contours of his face, which had once possessed a faint softness, had become sharply defined. That wasn’t all. The constantly crumpled school shirt he’d worn had been replaced by an eye-catching silk shirt patterned with flowers. His long fringe, which had once fallen over his eyebrows, was now perfectly styled, with not a single strand out of place.

 

He’d changed so much that Ihyeon should have struggled to recognise him. Yet the instant their eyes met, his name had surfaced. No. It hadn’t merely surfaced. It had sprung violently from somewhere deep within his consciousness, like a compressed spring suddenly released from a box where it had been buried for years. What did he look like the last time I saw him? Was he wearing that terrifyingly cold, mocking expression? Or were his eyes unusually red, filled with a mixture of anxiety and disgust?

 

Ihyeon searched through his memories. But too much time had passed. The events had long since become buried beneath the years, making the details difficult to recall. He sighed and rubbed his face once again. Nevertheless, he couldn’t shake the sensation of those cold, piercing eyes staring straight through him. The memory of that gaze kept appearing before him. It bothered him like the sudden discovery of an old scar he’d forgotten he had.

 

“It’s cold outside, isn’t it?”

 

At that moment, Subin noticed him and approached, draping an arm around his shoulders. The warmth of another person’s body touched the back of Ihyeon’s neck. Only then did the world begin to feel real again. Ihyeon clenched and unclenched his fist. A faint tingling sensation spread from his palm through the rest of his body.

 

“We probably won’t see each other again anyway, so it doesn’t matter…”

 

The words escaped Ihyeon’s lowered lips as a barely audible murmur.

 

“What was that?”

 

“…Nothing.”

 

Subin tilted his head, clearly unable to understand what Ihyeon had said. But he soon smiled faintly and gently cupped Ihyeon’s ear with his warm palm.

 

“What took you so long?”

 

For a moment, Ihyeon considered taking hold of Subin’s wrist and lowering his hand. Instead, he merely shook his head. Fortunately, most of the exhausted staff weren’t paying them any attention. Besides, the warmth against his skin was helping him feel a little more settled. Ihyeon spoke quietly.

 

“Something came up.”

 

The club was fairly large, so even after excluding the part-time employees and gathering only the permanent staff, there were still quite a few people in the hall. And the reason Ihyeon was able to stand amongst them at all was largely thanks to Subin. Back in his early twenties, he’d decided to enlist in the military to escape the endless cycle of part-time jobs and financial difficulties. Every semester, tuition bills arrived like overdue payment notices. There were living expenses to cover, too. Without financial support from his parents, he’d realised there was a limit to how long he could continue attending university. He’d worried that he wouldn’t cope well with the military’s authoritarian and oppressive environment.

 

Contrary to those fears, however, he’d adapted quickly. The fact that he didn’t have to worry about money had played a significant part in that. For a year and a half, he’d allowed time to pass without thinking too deeply about anything. And when he was finally discharged, all he had to show for it was a few million won in savings and the fact that he was now two years older. The prospect of spending every waking hour working part-time to save enough tuition money for his remaining semesters was overwhelming.

 

He’d once been determined to graduate from university, no matter what. But that passion and determination had disappeared. He’d found himself stuck, unable to move forward or backwards. It was around that time that Subin contacted him. They’d met briefly when Ihyeon worked at a club in his early twenties. Their connection had been casual and superficial, so the unexpected contact caught him off guard. However, Subin had a fairly tempting offer. The establishment where he worked was undergoing renovations and replacing its entire staff. Would Ihyeon be interested in working there?

 

Ihyeon hadn’t retained particularly fond memories of club work. He was sick of customers offering him alcohol and the smell of cigarette smoke that seemed to seep into every strand of his hair. But he wasn’t in a position to turn down a job offering twice the minimum wage. Having been driven away from his family and practically cut off from them, he’d spent his early twenties surviving on stubbornness and sheer determination. Even after completing his military service, he was still alone. During those years, Subin had become one of the very few people Ihyeon could genuinely call a friend. It was also why he sometimes overlooked the discomfort caused by Subin’s behaviour and his tendency to cross certain boundaries.

 

Ihyeon ran his tongue along the soft inside of his lip and lowered his gaze. Subin was still resting a hand on his shoulder, tapping his fingers in time with the faint background music playing throughout the hall. Ihyeon glanced up at him before lifting his wrist to check the time again. 7:10 a.m. Normally, he’d have just managed to catch the bus by now.

 

He was beginning to feel mildly irritated with the owner who had gathered everyone together without even bothering to show his face. Then several footsteps sounded from the top of the large staircase in the centre of the hall. The employees who had been chatting immediately fell silent.

 

“What the hell are all these people doing here?”

 

A low voice echoed through the room, where only the strange, muffled background music had been audible moments earlier. It was an even drier, more indifferent tone than the voice that had brushed past Ihyeon’s ears in the lobby. The figure he’d seen from behind in the car park. The face he’d encountered beneath the bright lights of the lift lobby. And now the silhouette standing with the lights behind him, its features partially obscured by shadow. Only belatedly did those three images merge into one.

 

“…Ah.”

 

Ihyeon pressed his lips together, silently reproaching himself for failing to connect Seunghyuk with the new owner Subin had mentioned. The time and place of their reunion were far too unusual to dismiss as a remarkable coincidence. Although escaping the gaze of someone looking down from a floor above would be difficult, Ihyeon took a small step back, hoping to make himself less noticeable. Subin, completely oblivious to his efforts, moved closer and whispered into his ear.

 

“Fucking hell… What’s with that atmosphere?”

 

It wasn’t really a question. More an involuntary expression of astonishment. Ihyeon understood exactly what he meant without needing an explanation. After all, he’d felt something similar when he first encountered Gu Seunghyuk. Subin’s gaze, filled with a mixture of wariness and admiration, quickly travelled over Seunghyuk’s appearance. Afraid that lifting his head would bring him face to face with those icy eyes again, Ihyeon lowered his gaze and moved a little closer to Subin.

 

Meanwhile, Seunghyuk was watching everything from above. Amongst the considerable number of people gathered in the hall, those two were the only ones standing so closely together. That made them all the more noticeable.

 

“I gathered everyone in case you had any special instructions, Director. They’re all permanent employees who’ve worked here for more than a year.”

 

Seunghyuk found it laughable. The boy who used to sit quietly in an oversized school shirt, doing nothing but reading books, was now working here. Not in some small club in Hongdae or Itaewon. Here. And apparently, he’d been working here for more than a year. Even his personality seemed unchanged. Despite everyone else’s attention being directed towards the staircase, he alone stubbornly kept his eyes fixed on the floor. Exactly as he had nine years ago.

 

An unpleasant sensation began spreading through Seunghyuk’s body. Seeing the same familiar behaviour, as though nothing had changed in all those years, made his stomach twist.

 

“…Ha.”

 

A cold, mocking laugh escaped his lips. The gang members standing behind him immediately tensed.

 

“D-Director… Is there some kind of problem?”

 

“President Kim.”

 

“Yes, Director?”

 

The weight of Seunghyuk’s voice seemed to press down on the other man. President Kim instinctively hunched his shoulders.

 

“If you’d like to keep working here even a little longer, you’d better learn to quietly do exactly what you’re told.”

 

“Ah…”

 

“I told you to prepare the merchandise being sold downstairs.”

 

Seunghyuk’s eyes narrowed.

 

“Did I ever say I wanted to inspect the faces of the little brats serving drinks and entertaining customers?”

 

President Kim had been anxiously watching his expression. When Seunghyuk suddenly draped a heavy arm across his shoulders, he inhaled sharply.

 

“Chairman Gu might have enjoyed this sort of thing, but I absolutely despise it.”

 

Speaking as casually as though they were close friends, Seunghyuk leaned towards him with his arm still resting across the man’s shoulders. He rolled his stiff neck.

 

“What do you want me to do? Put the kids on their knees in front of me and give them a little speech about my impressions?”

 

“S-Sorry…”

 

“Then get rid of them. All of them.”

 

His previously playful, mocking tone turned threatening in an instant. President Kim’s face went deathly pale. He bowed repeatedly before hurrying away. Watching him practically run for his life, Seunghyuk pressed his fingertips against his throbbing temple. At least the man had learnt to read the atmosphere during his years working under Chairman Gu. If he’d hesitated even slightly, the place where he’d be sleeping tonight probably wouldn’t have been his own comfortable bed. It would have been the dirt somewhere on a remote mountainside.

 

Seunghyuk cracked his neck with a series of sharp clicks and called to the man behind him.

 

“Taesik.”

 

“Yes, Hyungnim?”

 

“If there’s any spare stuff left from what you put downstairs, bring me some.”

 

Seunghyuk didn’t particularly enjoy getting high. But on days like this, he was willing to make an exception. Taesik scratched the side of his eyebrow, looking troubled.

 

“You didn’t mention it beforehand, so we only prepared the lower-quality stuff for clearing out…”

 

“I’ll have the boys bring something clean immediately.”

 

Seunghyuk frowned involuntarily. He bit hard into the inside of his cheek, swallowing the sudden surge of irritation. Then he closed his eyes and let out a short sigh.

 

“Forget it.”

 

“Yes, Hyungnim…”

 

Afraid of provoking his anger, Taesik quickly stepped back. He pressed the button for the private lift to the third basement floor and cautiously studied Seunghyuk’s expression out of the corner of his eye. Seunghyuk slowly opened his eyes. His gaze was murderous. Taesik’s mouth went dry. If some idiot happened to provoke him now, they might end up having to summon the clean-up crew before breakfast. It had been a long time since he’d seen Seunghyuk this highly strung.

 

Taesik hurriedly ran through the list of people currently working downstairs. Please don’t let there be any stupid bastards who don’t know their place… Despite his complicated thoughts, the lift announced its arrival with an unusually cheerful ding.

 

“Hyungnim, please go ahead. I’ll check the list of attendees and follow you down.”

 

The doors opened, revealing a lift interior made from matt black metal. But Seunghyuk didn’t move. Instead, he remained standing with his face turned towards the hall below. The staff apparently hadn’t yet received instructions from President Kim. They were still whispering amongst themselves, occasionally glancing towards the staircase. Seunghyuk’s cold gaze passed over their curious faces. Then it stopped beside a pillar in a distant corner. There stood a man with wavy hair, grinning as he played with someone else’s ear, as though kneading clay.

 

Beside him stood another man, his expression blank, staring silently at the floor. Seeing them still pressed closely together, Seunghyuk let out a contemptuous scoff. It was filled with something approaching outright disgust. So the bastard standing next to him is gay too.

 

“…Hyungnim?”

 

Seunghyuk gestured towards the area he was watching.

 

“Send that one downstairs with me.”

 

“Who do you mean…? Ah, the girl with her hair tied back? The one standing beside the speaker?”

 

“Behind her.”

 

After a brief pause, his voice continued, low and vicious.

 

“The pale bastard who looks like a bloody doll.”

 

Click. Seunghyuk parted his lips and clicked his tongue dismissively before stepping into the lift. The metal doors quickly closed, and the illuminated numbers began changing. Left alone at the top of the staircase, Taesik slowly turned towards the hall below. His gaze settled on the same young man he’d encountered outside the lift earlier.

 

The first thing he noticed was the man’s lips. They were almost as red as those of the women standing nearby. Perhaps he was wearing something on them. Or perhaps the lighting simply made them stand out against his already pale skin. Either way, those full, tightly closed lips were unusually eye-catching. He looked no older than someone in his early twenties. Although his expressionless face and the calm way he lowered his eyes while listening to others gave him a certain maturity, he still couldn’t have been much older than twenty-two or twenty-three. Certainly not at first glance.

 

He’s not a minor, is he? Despite being involved in all manner of illegal activities, Seunghyuk maintained an uncompromising attitude towards anything involving minors. If he’d known that young man wasn’t an adult, it might explain his earlier hostility. Taesik suddenly felt uneasy and bit his lower lip. Surely President Kim had enough common sense not to employ an underage worker here. But judging by the clueless expressions on the staff members still gathered below, Taesik wasn’t particularly confident in the man’s judgement.

 

He sincerely hoped they wouldn’t end up digging a hole in some remote mountain before the morning was over. With that thought, he looked down at Ihyeon once again, who remained standing in exactly the same position, as motionless as a doll. His pale face seemed almost damp. For some reason, it reminded Taesik of the runaway teenagers whom a mid-level member of their organisation had secretly forced into prostitution several years earlier. Surely that’s just my imagination…

 

That particular gang member had lost a finger for what he’d done. Taesik could almost remember which finger the man had lost as punishment. He quickly shook his head to clear the thought and made his way downstairs. After gathering all the staff together, the only thing President Kim had bothered to say was that, since they had a new owner, everyone should work even harder from now on. That was it. A completely pointless speech that hadn’t been worth listening to. And because of it, Ihyeon was leaving work thirty minutes later than usual. If he went home now, he’d have to squeeze onto a bus packed with commuters heading to work.

 

…I wonder how much a taxi would cost. Although the roads will probably be pretty congested at this hour. Ihyeon let out a quiet sigh, checked his wristwatch and turned around. If he hurried, he might still manage to avoid the worst of the morning rush. He closed his locker and began walking, rubbing his tired eyes. Then someone stepped directly into his path.

 

A pair of black shoes entered his field of vision. They were so excessively shiny that they looked as though they’d only just been polished. They certainly didn’t belong to Subin, who’d been dragged off by some of the other staff for a bowl of hangover soup and a bottle of soju before heading home. Ihyeon slowly raised his head. An unexpected face greeted him.

 

It was the man who had been following Gu Seunghyuk around like a shadow. He hadn’t noticed it when the two men were standing together, but seen on his own, the man was remarkably large. His size was intimidating, and even at a glance, something about him set him apart from ordinary people.

 

“You’ve got a bit of time, haven’t you?”

 

“…”

 

“The Director wants to see you.”

 

The words were delivered as though refusing had never been an option. The man’s persistent, scrutinising gaze lingered noticeably on Ihyeon’s face. Under such an unfriendly stare, most people would probably have shown some sign of intimidation or wariness. Yet Ihyeon’s pale face remained completely expressionless. He looked quietly up at the man before slowly opening his mouth.

 

“What about?”

 

The memory of Seunghyuk’s icy expression and the cold eyes that had stared directly at him earlier flashed through his mind. Ihyeon had wanted to dismiss their unexpected reunion as one of those unpleasant coincidences that occasionally happened in life. Apparently, the other man had no intention of doing the same.

 

“You’ll have to hear that from him yourself.”

 

Judging by the faintly coercive tone and the way the man stood blocking his path, refusing would be pointless. Perhaps he should even be grateful that he was being allowed to walk there himself rather than being dragged away. A faint, humourless laugh escaped Ihyeon’s lips. Taesik looked displeased by the reaction. Then he turned and began walking. Several passing employees glanced at them curiously, but Ihyeon ignored their attention and followed behind him.

 

Rather than wondering why Gu Seunghyuk wanted to see him, Ihyeon was more concerned about how much precious sleeping time he was losing. At this rate, he’d probably have to find a nearby motel, get a few hours’ sleep and head straight to his next part-time job. If he hung his clothes in the bathroom, perhaps some of the cigarette smell would disappear. His eyes stung after being subjected to acrid smoke all night. He rubbed them tiredly with one hand. When they turned a corner, a closed door came into view at the far end of the corridor. Beyond it lay an area that ordinary staff were forbidden from entering. Ihyeon had never been there before.

 

Several guards stood blocking the entrance with their hands clasped behind their backs. The moment they spotted Taesik, they hurriedly bowed their heads. The heavy metal door opened with remarkable ease. Beyond it was a staircase leading downwards. But just as Taesik was about to descend, he suddenly stopped and turned around. Tilting his head, he looked Ihyeon up and down suspiciously.

 

“Twenty-two?”

 

“…”

 

“No? Are you younger than that?”

 

His manner of speaking had abruptly become informal. The pale fingers pressing against Ihyeon’s tired eyes went still. The way he talked to someone he’d only just met was remarkably similar. He really must be one of Gu Seunghyuk’s men. Ihyeon lowered his hand and slowly raised his eyes.

 

“…Do I have to tell you that?”

 

Exhaustion had made his expression unusually sharp. He made no attempt to conceal his irritation or displeasure. Taesik narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose. The young man didn’t seem the slightest bit nervous. He’d even addressed Taesik rather rudely as you, despite the situation. That suggested one of two possibilities. Either he was still so young and inexperienced that he hadn’t the faintest idea what was happening around him…

 

Or, despite his innocent appearance, he’d been through enough hardship to develop an extraordinary amount of nerve. Neither possibility was particularly encouraging. Taesik swallowed a rising sigh and started down the stairs. Perhaps he ought to send the clean-up crew and President Kim to the mountain behind the building in advance. Just in case.

 

The VIP lounge on the third basement floor was completely separate from the rest of the club. It had its own entrance, its own kitchen and storage areas, and even its own dedicated employees. Loud music continued pounding through the walls, seemingly unaffected by the club’s official opening hours. Unlike the floors above, where matt black tiles were stained with spilt alcohol, saliva and various unidentified substances, the flooring here was spotless. There were no windows. It was impossible to tell what was happening outside or even what time it was. The place gave Ihyeon a strange, vague sense of unease.

 

During business hours, the floors above would be crowded with employees and customers. But these corridors were completely deserted. That, too, felt unfamiliar. While Ihyeon glanced around discreetly, the man in the black suit walked ahead without hesitation. They approached a door situated at the very end of the corridor. As the music grew louder, Ihyeon finally began to wonder why he’d been summoned. Surely Seunghyuk didn’t intend to revisit their shared past.

 

Neither of them had particularly pleasant memories of those days. And it certainly couldn’t be because Seunghyuk was delighted to have unexpectedly encountered an old acquaintance. So why had he gone to the trouble of calling Ihyeon down here?

 

“Director, I’m coming in.”

 

No answer came from inside. Nevertheless, Taesik pushed open the heavy metal door. The moment a gap appeared, the pounding music came pouring out. Holding the door open with one hand, Taesik gestured for Ihyeon to enter. Ihyeon let out a short sigh and stepped forward. Thud.

 

The door closed behind him. He slowly raised his head. But before he even noticed Gu Seunghyuk sitting comfortably on the enormous sofa in the centre of the room, Ihyeon froze at the sight. His teeth remained pressed against his lower lip. Beyond a glass wall that occupied one entire side of the spacious room lay an enormous open area. There was a swimming pool on one side. On the other, sofas and beds were arranged throughout what looked like a large hall. Alcohol, cigarettes, scraps of paper and discarded clothing were scattered across the tables and floor like rubbish. And amongst them were dozens of completely naked people, their bodies tangled together.

 

A faint trickling sound reached his ears. It sounded like liquid being poured into a glass. As though drawn by some invisible force, Ihyeon slowly turned his head. His gaze settled on a man sitting in the middle of a large sofa. The man was tipping a bottle of whisky into a glass, a cigarette resting between his lips. Seunghyuk filled an elaborate crystal tumbler to the brim. Then, acting as though Ihyeon weren’t even there, he calmly brought a lighter to the end of his cigarette.

 

The flickering flame was briefly reflected in his lowered black eyes before disappearing. A sudden cloud of white smoke rose into the air. His lowered eyelashes lifted. And their eyes met. This time, unlike their earlier encounter, a violent shiver ran through Ihyeon’s entire body. Seunghyuk noticed the way Ihyeon’s face had gone rigid. One corner of his mouth curved upwards. He made a leisurely gesture with his hand.

 

“Sit.”

 

There was a peculiar weight to his voice. It seemed to press down on Ihyeon’s entire body. His mouth went dry, and his heart began pounding violently. He couldn’t tell whether his reaction was caused by the outrageous scene unfolding before him or by the man sitting so comfortably, as though he were merely watching a performance. Ihyeon remained frozen. It was Taesik, approaching from behind, who finally made him move.

 

He took hold of Ihyeon’s arm and pressed him down onto the sofa beside Seunghyuk. The force wasn’t so great that Ihyeon couldn’t have resisted it. But the gesture was undeniably intimidating. Once Ihyeon was seated, Seunghyuk took another drag from his cigarette, holding it between his fingers. Then, with a small grunt, he lifted himself from his relaxed position. He leaned across the table to retrieve a crystal glass sitting near the middle. As he bent forwards, the distance between them abruptly narrowed. The overpowering smell of cigarettes washed over Ihyeon. His body stiffened. He bit the inside of his cheek.

 

A glass was placed in front of his knees. Then the expensive bottle of liquor, the sort he’d heard was difficult to obtain, was tilted above it. Amber liquid poured generously into the glass. There wasn’t even any ice. Through the uneven surface of the glass bottle, the animalistic figures moving beyond the window appeared and disappeared. Ihyeon forced himself to keep his eyes fixed on the tumbler.

 

“Drink. It’s expensive.”

 

Seunghyuk spoke with a faintly amused tone. He nudged the glass towards Ihyeon with the bottom of the bottle. While Ihyeon stared down at the deep golden liquid sloshing inside, Seunghyuk raised his own glass to his lips.

 

“Come to think of it, it’s been a long time since we last saw each other.”

 

“It’d be a shame to part ways again just like that.”

 

He gave a quiet laugh.

 

“You haven’t changed a bit.”

 

“Has it been eight years? No, nine?”

 

Seunghyuk roughly wiped the liquor from his mouth with the back of his hand and chuckled. Ihyeon didn’t respond. He simply sat there in silence. His eyelids remained lowered, thick eyelashes concealing his eyes. Seunghyuk studied him for a moment before letting out another mocking laugh.

 

“And you’re still the same when someone speaks to you.”

 

“Just sitting there with your mouth shut.”

 

Seunghyuk swirled the whisky in his glass and tilted his head. The faint clinking of ice slipped into the heavy silence between them. Despite the sharpness of his words, Ihyeon still said nothing. He merely stared at a point on the table, his expression increasingly exhausted. Click. Seunghyuk clicked his tongue and turned his attention towards the glass wall. Beyond it, naked figures moved together like animals, having abandoned even the most basic sense of shame.

 

Ihyeon’s reflection was superimposed over them. There was no embarrassment on his expressionless face. No visible anxiety either. He sat perfectly still, his lips pressed together, and his eyes lowered. Against the backdrop of the debauchery unfolding behind him, he looked strangely out of place. Like a lotus flower blooming in the middle of a filthy swamp. An unpleasant sensation began creeping upwards from somewhere deep inside Seunghyuk’s stomach. The way Ihyeon sat with his back perfectly straight, refusing to look anywhere but downwards, seemed almost like a deliberate declaration.

 

I’m different from you. As though he were drawing an invisible line between them. Seunghyuk’s mouth twisted coldly. Would I have to throw something and smash it before he’d finally look at me? Suppressing the violent impulse rising inside him, Seunghyuk rubbed his fingers against the skin around his eyes. Click.

 

He clicked his tongue again. The sound was almost like someone calling a dog. Only then did Ihyeon finally raise his head. Seunghyuk forced one corner of his mouth upwards and tilted his head.

 

“Ihyeon…”

 

“When someone speaks to you, you’re supposed to answer.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

Even in the face of his aggressive tone, Ihyeon showed no particular reaction. He merely exhaled briefly and looked directly into the eyes staring at him so persistently. Their gazes collided. Ihyeon’s slightly reddish lips slowly parted, almost reluctantly.

 

“You said you wanted to see me.”

 

“…Ha.”

 

A short sound escaped Seunghyuk’s mouth. But despite the noise, there wasn’t the slightest trace of amusement on his face. The answer had been dry and indifferent, as though Ihyeon were speaking to a complete stranger.

 

“Earlier, it was ‘Please go ahead.’”

 

“And now it’s ‘You said you wanted to see me.’”

 

“We haven’t seen each other for years, and that’s how you greet me?”

 

Seunghyuk gave a few derisive chuckles, idly swinging his crossed leg before raising his glass again. Ihyeon watched him without the slightest indication that he found anything amusing. Nine years ago, Seunghyuk’s face had still retained a few youthful features. Now, not a trace of them remained. His more prominent cheekbones and angular jaw gave him a distinctly masculine appearance. Yet his overall manner didn’t seem particularly different from the past. There was something unstable about him. And at the same time, something deeply bored.

 

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

 

“Normally, when people meet again like this, they say things like, ‘It’s been a while,’ or ‘What brings you here?’”

 

“Don’t they?”

 

Seunghyuk set the bottle down and sank lazily into the sofa. Despite drinking the strong liquor as casually as though it were water, there wasn’t the slightest sign of drunkenness in his appearance. He closed his eyes, tilted his neck from side to side and continued speaking.

 

“Ah. Actually, I thought you’d ask about that first.”

 

With a faintly mocking laugh, Seunghyuk gestured towards the other side of the glass with his chin. A man was moving busily between two women. Seunghyuk watched the scene with an amused chuckle. Without looking away, he asked:

 

“Aren’t you curious?”

 

“…I don’t think it’s something I need to know about.”

 

“Wow…”

 

Seunghyuk abruptly threw his head back against the sofa and looked up towards Taesik.

 

“Taesik, it looks like President Kim has trained his employees properly.”

 

He chuckled to himself. Ihyeon watched him briefly before looking away again and fixing his gaze on the table.

 

“…”

 

And with that, their conversation fell silent once more. They had never been close enough to sit together exchanging warm greetings in the first place. And even if they had been, this was hardly an appropriate place for such a reunion. With moans and cries of pleasure constantly drifting through the glass wall, were they seriously supposed to sit here and exchange friendly pleasantries?

 

Even as the people beyond the glass wall tangled their bodies together in shameless displays of intimacy, some were kissing others at the same time. Everything was painfully visible. It almost seemed as though a foul, metallic smell were drifting through the air. Ihyeon wanted to get out of this disgusting place as quickly as possible. There didn’t appear to be a single person here who was in their right mind. Including Gu Seunghyuk, who was sitting beside him. He raised his wrist and checked the time.

 

7:30 a.m. Unable to think of a single reason to remain there any longer, Ihyeon clenched his fist tightly before rising from his seat.

 

“If there’s nothing else you need, I’ll be leaving.”

 

“Sit down.”

 

Seunghyuk’s attitude changed in an instant. It was as though all the lazy amusement he’d displayed until now had been nothing more than an act. His voice, which had suddenly turned cold and threatening, made Ihyeon’s gaze sharpen. He glared directly at Seunghyuk.

 

“Why are you being so unfriendly?”

 

“I told you, I’m happy to see you again after all this time.”

 

The hand pressing down on Ihyeon’s shoulder from behind seemed considerably stronger than before. Frowning, Ihyeon twisted his body free of Taesik’s grip. Then, without the slightest hesitation, he stood up again and turned towards the door.

 

“That one and that one.”

 

“…”

 

“Weren’t they the ones the newspapers recently published some big exclusive about?”

 

The slow, deliberate voice brought Ihyeon to a halt. His eyes moved almost involuntarily. Beyond the glass wall, where Seunghyuk was looking, a group of men and women were rolling around on a sofa, their bodies wrapped in scraps of fabric that could scarcely be called clothing.

 

“Apparently, they grew close while preparing for a musical together.”

 

Seunghyuk laughed.

 

“Hahaha. What a load of fucking rubbish.”

 

“They actually met here.”

 

One of the men, whose face was flushed as he passionately kissed someone, was familiar even to Ihyeon. He was an actor who had recently been linked to dating rumours involving a member of one of the country’s most popular girl groups. However, the woman he was kissing wasn’t the girlfriend mentioned in those reports. It was another woman with short hair. The idol herself, whose long, straight hair had become something of a trademark, was right beside them, clinging to another man’s neck as her body moved against his. Since turning twenty and experiencing all manner of things, Ihyeon had gradually come to understand that certain people were entirely beyond the reach of ordinary standards.

 

Ethics. Morality. The law. None of those things seemed capable of touching them. Above ordinary people stood violence. Above violence stood the law. Above the law stood money. And above all of those things were people who sat comfortably at the very top, looking down on everything beneath them. Ihyeon no longer merely suspected that Gu Seunghyuk belonged to that final category. He was certain of it.

 

Turning his head, Ihyeon bit his lower lip and looked at Seunghyuk. He couldn’t understand why the man had deliberately summoned him into a restricted area simply to show him something like this. Meeting Ihyeon’s gaze, Seunghyuk made a playful clicking sound with his tongue before tilting his head.

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

“You’ll hurt my feelings.”

 

“…”

 

“They needed somewhere to have fun without being seen by the public.”

 

“And I happened to have drugs, alcohol and a suitable place.”

 

Seunghyuk shrugged.

 

“It’s a kind of business arrangement. Everyone gives something and gets something in return.”

 

Ihyeon had absolutely no desire to learn about that sort of business. He’d never once been curious about how the celebrities, politicians and wealthy businesspeople who occasionally visited the club behaved behind closed doors. Nor had he ever wanted to know how they escaped the consequences of their actions before appearing in public again with innocent expressions. There was only one thing Ihyeon wanted to know now. When can I leave this room?

 

When could he finally escape the sticky, unpleasant noises clinging to his ears, the cigarette smoke thickening the air and those relentlessly probing eyes? Seunghyuk brought the whisky bottle directly to his lips this time. His gaze remained fixed on Ihyeon, like a predator watching its prey. He studied Ihyeon’s tightly closed lips and stiff expression as the younger man deliberately looked away. Then he let out a short, mocking laugh and rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

 

“Ah, for fuck’s sake…”

 

“You’re making it far too obvious that you don’t want anything to do with me.”

 

“…”

 

“Here I am, trying to give an old friend a wonderful opportunity after all these years.”

 

Ihyeon offered no response. Seunghyuk gave a brief whistle and continued.

 

“See that girl sitting on the edge of the swimming pool?”

 

“The one sucking off that blond bastard?”

 

“…”

 

“She’s the second daughter of the Yeongwon Group family.”

 

“I reckon she’s two or three years younger than you.”

 

“If you managed to catch yourself one of those and sweet-talked her properly, getting a couple of officetels in the middle of Seoul would be easy enough, wouldn’t it?”

 

Seunghyuk’s eyes curved into an oddly pleasant smile.

 

“Why are you wasting your time carrying drinks around here?”

 

“You, of all people.”

 

“Kwon Ihyeon.”

 

Then his smile widened.

 

“Ah, but I suppose carrying drinks isn’t all you do, is it?”

 

The blatant mockery didn’t so much make Ihyeon angry as cause his thoughts to turn cold. He closed his eyes without answering. Through his eyelashes, the red lighting continued to flicker. Instead of responding, he began calculating how many hours of sleep he might manage before his next shift.

 

“If you can’t do it because you’re a gay bastard, how about the one next to her?”

 

Ihyeon had been mentally going through the nearby motels, trying to remember which one was reasonably decent. But that thought abruptly stopped. Gay bastard. The insult had been delivered so casually. Yet hearing it made his mouth feel strangely dry. He slowly opened his eyes. Seunghyuk was looking through the glass wall, exhaling cigarette smoke. He appeared even more relaxed than before, with his legs resting on the table and the tips of his polished shoes swinging idly.

 

Noticing that Ihyeon was looking at him, he gestured towards the room beyond the glass.

 

“I think the bloke in front of that girl is some minister’s youngest son.”

 

“…”

 

“Ah… but Ihyeon.”

 

Seunghyuk paused.

 

“Even so, I don’t think I could stomach that particular arrangement.”

 

He twisted his head towards Ihyeon before straightening up with a laugh.

 

“Why don’t you try sleeping with a woman for a change?”

 

Seunghyuk placed the cigarette between his lips. When he spoke again, the words came out slightly muffled.

 

“Normally, the bastards who want to attend one of our parties are the ones who pay us.”

 

“But sometimes, if we don’t have enough people, we offer money to bring a few more in.”

 

He rummaged through the inside pocket of his jacket. A black leather wallet appeared in his hand. Raising one eyebrow, Seunghyuk pulled several white cheques from the banknote compartment.

 

“Let’s see…”

 

“Something like this?”

 

“We have to give them a bit more than they’d normally make at an establishment if we want them to keep their mouths shut.”

 

Three cheques fluttered from Seunghyuk’s fingers onto the table. Each was worth one million won. Three million won altogether. He’d tossed them down with the same casual indifference as someone discarding a few napkins. For the first time since entering the room, Ihyeon laughed. Although describing it as laughter might have been generous. It was closer to a breath escaping through his lips.

 

“Why? Not enough?”

 

“…”

 

“Ah… playing hard to get, are we?”

 

At Ihyeon’s reaction, Seunghyuk lowered his eyebrows in exaggerated disappointment. Then he gave another contemptuous chuckle and withdrew two more cheques. He placed them on top of the first three. Finally, he picked up the untouched glass of whisky he’d poured for Ihyeon and set it on top of the money like a paperweight.

 

“I’ll even let you experience what it’s like with a woman.”

 

“And you get paid for it too.”

 

“…”

 

“Look how generous I’m being.”

 

“Even to someone who stabbed me in the back like that.”

 

Seunghyuk tilted his head and laughed softly.

 

“Where else are you going to find a friend like me?”

 

“Don’t you agree?”

 

Ihyeon couldn’t help wondering why so many people seemed determined to give him money today. First there had been Subin, offering him spending money so he could quit his other part-time job. And now there was this man. A former schoolmate he hadn’t seen in years. Both of them spoke about money as though they were offering him charity. Just how comfortably did these people live that they could make such offers without a second thought?

 

A bitter, self-deprecating smile crossed his face. Ihyeon looked away from the table and checked his wristwatch. The thin, sharply pointed hands showed that more than an hour had passed since he was supposed to have finished work. His gaze settled on the five one-million-won cheques lying neatly beneath the glass. Five million won. Several months’ worth of wages. Yet he could turn his back on that money without the slightest regret. Perhaps it was because he knew exactly how filthy it was.

 

“If there’s nothing else you’d like to say, I’ll be leaving, sir.”

 

“…”

 

The finality in Ihyeon’s voice was unmistakable. It was as though he were deliberately drawing a line between them at Seunghyuk’s repeated insistence that they were friends. The fact that he continued addressing him so formally only emphasised it. Seunghyuk had been staring down at his wallet, opening and closing it without any real purpose. Recognising the meaning behind Ihyeon’s words, he gave a cold snort.

 

“Is that still not enough?”

 

“No.”

 

Ihyeon’s pale face betrayed no emotion.

 

“My working hours are over.”

 

He bowed his head politely. Then, without hesitation, he turned and walked towards the door. Taesik, who had been standing behind him, quickly glanced at Seunghyuk to gauge his reaction. But the handsome face staring through the glass wall remained completely expressionless. Taesik’s mind raced. Should he stop Ihyeon? Or should he simply allow him to leave? Before he could decide, Seunghyuk spoke.

 

“Kwon Ihyeon.”

 

“…”

 

“Do you remember the last thing I said to you nine years ago?”

 

The images that flashed through Ihyeon’s mind were vague and colourless. A dark park. A filthy alleyway. A street covered in falling snow. The nine years that had passed since then hadn’t been easy enough for him to indulge in preserving faded memories of the past. Ihyeon briefly stopped walking. He ran his tongue across his lips. Judging by the expressionless face staring straight ahead, Seunghyuk didn’t appear to be expecting an answer. Ihyeon remained silent for a moment. Then he lowered his eyes, took hold of the door handle and turned it.

 

Taesik watched his retreating back with an uneasy expression as he stepped out into the corridor. The door opening and closing was reflected in the transparent glass wall like an image in a mirror. Seunghyuk watched the reflection without moving. Then he slowly turned his head towards the table. In front of the now-empty sofa sat a solitary glass of whisky. Beneath it lay five white cheques. What expression had Kwon Ihyeon been wearing when he’d put those cheques down?

 

Seunghyuk stared silently at the empty seat. Then, with a derisive laugh, he stood up and reached for the glass of whisky Ihyeon had left behind.

 

“Tsk… I told him it was expensive.”

 

He drained the glass in one go, speaking as though it meant nothing to him. Yet something churned unpleasantly in his stomach. Whether it was anger or disgust, he couldn’t quite tell. He’d thought drinking something cold might settle the feeling, but instead, the burning sensation in his chest only grew stronger. Seunghyuk picked up his cigarette packet and shook it with one hand.

 

Empty.

 

He held his palm out behind him. Taesik, quick to understand what he wanted, immediately placed a fresh packet in his hand. He almost commented that Seunghyuk seemed to be smoking considerably more these days, but thought better of it. Instead, he held a lighter in front of Seunghyuk’s face. A thin trail of smoke rose from the cigarette, like smoke drifting from the end of an incense stick, before dispersing into the air. Seunghyuk tilted his stiff neck backwards, gazed at the ceiling and slowly exhaled.

 

How long had he been standing like that? Eventually, he lowered his gaze and looked across the hall beyond the glass wall. His hand paused in the middle of flicking cigarette ash. In a corner of the room, a man was stumbling unsteadily towards the opposite side. His eyes were half-glazed. With every unsteady movement, his long, straight black hair swayed gently. He appeared to have taken drugs before entering the swimming pool, and his soaked clothes clung to his body, revealing pale skin underneath. The sight naturally brought to mind another pale face.

 

Someone who had been sitting in this very room only moments earlier. The strange sensation lingering in Seunghyuk’s throat abruptly gave way to an unpleasant revulsion. His Adam’s apple bobbed noticeably as he swallowed. He ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth. It tasted sour. Suddenly, the thick cigarette smoke filling the room seemed unbearably disgusting. Seunghyuk stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. Even then, his eyes remained fixed on the slender man staggering beyond the glass.

 

Perhaps it was his first time attending one of these parties. Or perhaps he’d simply taken far more drugs than he could handle. Either way, he could barely remain standing. Seunghyuk was about to gesture for Taesik to deal with him before anything troublesome happened. But at that moment, someone roughly grabbed the slender man’s arm. It was a muscular man who had been leaning against one of the pillars. Still engaged in sex with a woman, he caught the unsteady man’s chin, forced his lips apart and thrust his tongue into his mouth.

 

Ah… Taesik barely managed to suppress a groan. He bit his lower lip and glanced towards Seunghyuk. All he could see was the back of his head. For a moment, Taesik had thought the night might pass without any further incidents. Nothing particularly serious had happened with that young-looking man earlier. Perhaps everything would finally settle down. Apparently not.

 

“…I’m sorry. I’ll sort it out immediately.”

 

Had they mistaken the warnings for something people simply said as a formality? Taesik had made the rules perfectly clear. Yet occasionally, someone would become so intoxicated by drugs and alcohol that they lost all sense of judgement and ignored every warning. The muscular man appeared to enjoy the new stimulation. He’d even stopped moving against the woman and turned almost completely towards the slender man.

 

At this rate, the two of them were likely to collapse onto the sofa behind them. Taesik hurried forwards. But Seunghyuk rose from his seat and stopped him with a gesture. Taesik glanced at his face. Then he closed his mouth and quietly pulled the door open. The music, which had previously been muffled by the glass wall, suddenly grew much louder. Moans and cries of pleasure echoed around the walls and ceiling, almost like the exaggerated sound effects of a cinema. The sharp clicking of polished shoes struck the tiled floor.

 

Seunghyuk walked directly towards the two men, who were too preoccupied with touching each other to notice him approaching.

 

“Hyungnim, I’ll—”

 

Taesik hurried after him. But it was useless. Seunghyuk grabbed the larger man and pulled him away from his companion. Then, without warning, he drove his fist into the man’s solar plexus. Even if he’d been completely sober, the man would have struggled to react in time. In his intoxicated state, he stood no chance.

 

His half-naked body lost its balance and crashed onto the floor. Taesik, who had been standing behind Seunghyuk, swallowed the rest of what he’d been about to say. He briefly rubbed both hands across his face.

 

“Argh…!”

 

Seunghyuk stared expressionlessly at the man clutching his stomach and coughing violently. Then he lifted his foot. The woman who had been positioned in front of the man, wearing almost nothing, let out a short scream. She immediately scrambled away and sought refuge in another man’s arms.

 

“No matter… how fucking… desperate you are…”

 

“Urgh! Cough!”

 

“…You should at least check whose hole you’re sticking your dick into. Eh?”

 

The pounding music continued. Mixed with it were the sounds of agonised coughing and repeated, heavy kicks. Yet no one paid any attention to the man writhing on the floor. The other guests remained absorbed in kissing and having sex with the people beside them. As the kicks continued, the man’s condition deteriorated. Only three people were watching. Gu Seunghyuk. Kwak Taesik.

 

And the slender man with straight black hair, who was now crouching beneath the sofa with his eyes wide open.

 

“Cough… Urgh… Hngh…”

 

The muscular man’s face was badly injured and bleeding. Yet despite his condition, he remained grotesquely erect. Seunghyuk stared down at him with utter disgust. He looked at the man as though he were nothing more than a burst rubbish bag abandoned in a filthy alleyway. Then he kicked the man’s large body, turning him towards the frightened figure watching from the corner.

 

“Hic…”

 

The slender man’s reddened eyes lifted towards Seunghyuk in terror. Seunghyuk looked directly at him. Then he deliberately pressed the heel of his polished shoe down onto the injured man’s genitals. A strangled groan escaped the man lying on the floor. Seunghyuk didn’t even glance at him. His attention remained fixed on the trembling man crouched nearby.

 

“You gay bastards…”

 

“What the fuck do you think this place is?”

 

“H-Hah… Hngh…”

 

“…Filthy.”

 

The man in the corner trembled so violently that his lips had taken on a bluish tinge. Seunghyuk maintained eye contact with him. As though deliberately making him watch, he ground his heel down harder. Only when the injured man’s eyes rolled halfway back, and a clear, frothy substance gathered around his mouth, did Seunghyuk finally lift his foot.

 

“Kwak Taesik.”

 

Seunghyuk looked down at the water pooled across the floor from the swimming pool. Then at the slippery sole of his shoe. He cracked his neck several times.

 

“…Yes, Hyungnim?”

 

“If I ever have to see something like that again, you’ll be the one who ends up unable to function as a man.”

 

“Understood?”

 

“I’m sorry. I’ll make sure it never happens again.”

 

Seunghyuk walked away without answering. All that remained in his wake was the mess Taesik would have to deal with that night. Taesik sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. He made a phone call, instructing someone to arrange a bed in the private hospital ward. Then he looked down at the naked man who was still trembling with fear. That pale, innocent-looking face reminded him of someone. But Taesik didn’t dare say whose face had come to mind. Jingle.

 

The sound of the bell above the door made Ihyeon flinch. He instinctively turned his head. For a moment, he’d thought it might be those enormous men in black coming to find him. But the people entering the sundae-guk restaurant were merely a middle-aged woman and a boy who looked about secondary-school age. Ihyeon quickly bowed his head in greeting. His fingers tightened around the dishcloth he was holding.

 

Ever since he’d stormed out of the VIP lounge in that manner, Ihyeon had developed a habit of looking over his shoulder. Whenever he travelled to or from work, or passed through a dark place, he found himself checking his surroundings. Every time he turned a corner, he half expected Gu Seunghyuk or one of his men to appear. But contrary to his expectations, no one had come looking for him. He hadn’t encountered Seunghyuk or anyone connected to him while working, either. As he wiped a table with a dry cloth, Ihyeon began to think that perhaps the events of that day really could be dismissed as an unpleasant incident.

 

Bzzz. A short vibration sounded from his apron pocket. He took out his phone. Subin’s name appeared on the screen. Subin: Have you found your wallet? The wallet he’d left safely inside his locker had mysteriously disappeared early yesterday morning. He’d already been feeling unwell when he arrived at the club.

 

His body was shivery, and his condition hadn’t been particularly good. Then a group of models arrived together after finishing a photoshoot, bringing a sudden rush of customers. The place became even more chaotic. Simply moving through the crowds while feeling so exhausted had been difficult enough. But he’d also been busy cleaning the toilets, washing dishes in the kitchen and preparing simple snacks. He’d barely had a moment to breathe. By the time he was called into the hall to help Yunjin, the bartender, prepare cocktails, he was already functioning on autopilot.

 

With drunken customers everywhere and deafening music pounding against his ears, he’d wandered about in a daze. It wasn’t until after the last customers had left and the club had closed that he realised his wallet was missing. He’d been gathering his belongings, hoping to get home as quickly as possible. Earlier in the night, he’d briefly visited a convenience store to buy cigarettes before returning the wallet to his locker. But no matter how thoroughly he searched, he couldn’t find it.

 

There was no chance that the tiny, poorly equipped staff room beside the storage area had CCTV. And he didn’t have the energy to question the people around him in the hope of identifying a thief. Besides, part of the responsibility was his own. He’d been too lazy to bother locking his locker. The wallet itself wasn’t particularly expensive, and he rarely carried cash. Apart from the inconvenience of replacing his identification and bank cards, losing it wasn’t a particularly serious problem.

 

Nevertheless, it had happened during an especially exhausting morning. He’d already been worn down, and having something unexpected happen on top of everything else had left him emotionally drained. That was why he’d approached Subin, who had been laughing and preparing to leave with the other employees, and suggested they meet that evening. He could simply have borrowed enough money for his transport. But today, he didn’t want to return to an empty, cold flat and spend the evening alone.

 

Subin had looked slightly surprised when Ihyeon caught hold of his clothes. Nevertheless, he’d immediately agreed to collect him later, almost as though he’d been waiting for the invitation.

 

“Excuse me! Can we have some more chillies and ssamjang over here?”

 

“Yes, coming.”

 

Ihyeon, who had been staring blankly at an empty table, suddenly raised his head at the customer’s call. He took a plate of fresh green chillies and ssamjang to a group of middle-aged men dressed in hiking clothes. They were sitting in a corner, sharing a bottle of soju over a single bowl of sundae-guk. When he returned, the woman who worked in the kitchen spoke to him from her seat at a table.

 

“Ihyeon, is something wrong?”

 

“Wrong?”

 

She gave a small smile. As Ihyeon began arranging the cutlery containers, she watched him with concern.

 

“Are you eating properly?”

 

“Your face seems to be getting thinner and thinner.”

 

Instead of answering, Ihyeon merely lifted the corners of his mouth in a smile. The wrinkles between her brows deepened.

 

“Oh, this won’t do.”

 

“Listen, I’ll pack up some side dishes for you to take home when you finish work.”

 

“Make sure you eat them, all right?”

 

“When you live alone, you have to take care of yourself.”

 

“I will. Thank you.”

 

Once he’d finished arranging the cutlery, Ihyeon couldn’t find anything else to do. The lunchtime rush had passed, so there were unlikely to be any more customers for a while. The side dishes, including chillies and onions, had already been prepared. He glanced around briefly. Then he returned to the kitchen, dampened his dishcloth and came back out.

 

“Are you going back to university next spring?”

 

His hand stopped mid-wipe on the table. Ihyeon ran his tongue over his dry lips. Then he resumed cleaning. He knew perfectly well that the circular burn mark left on the tabletop by a hot dish wouldn’t disappear. Nevertheless, he continued scrubbing at it diligently.

 

“…I’m not sure.”

 

“You need to finish university soon and find yourself a proper job, Ihyeon.”

 

“You can’t keep working here forever.”

 

Ihyeon gave a mechanical smile. Meanwhile, he silently calculated his tuition fees. Living expenses. And the increased rent his landlord had recently demanded. If he continued working at the club until the end of the current holiday, then managed to combine studying with part-time work during the semester, he might just be able to survive until graduation without taking another leave of absence. But he couldn’t be certain.

 

“Haah… Business isn’t doing particularly well here either.”

 

“I don’t know how much longer we’ll be able to keep going.”

 

“If the landlord decides to raise the rent again, we’ll be in serious trouble…”

 

Her complaining voice continued for a moment before gradually trailing away. Inside the small sundae-guk restaurant, the voices of the middle-aged men, already rather drunk, blended awkwardly with the newsreader on television. Strikes. Accidents. Cold weather. The words drifted faintly past Ihyeon’s ears, as though they belonged to a world slightly removed from his own reality.

 

“Oh, goodness…”

 

The woman looked outside.

 

“It’s snowing again.”

 

“More snow…”

 

It was those words, spoken with a weary sigh, that finally made Ihyeon lift his head from the table.

 

Almost as though he'd been drawn to it, his gaze drifted towards the road outside.

 

Beyond the window, which was misted with condensation, large white snowflakes were slowly falling through the air. The pure white flakes descended almost vertically, as though tiny weights had been attached beneath them.

 

Against the dark buildings on the opposite side of the road, the particles appeared even whiter than the clouds of breath escaping from passing pedestrians. Ihyeon watched them silently.

 

The woman, who had been peeling garlic, noticed his expression and spoke.

 

“I hear young people these days don't particularly like winter because of the snow.”

 

“But I suppose you're different, Ihyeon?”

 

Ihyeon slowly straightened from his bent position. His gaze followed a young child who had crossed the road and was now running beneath someone's umbrella.

 

The man, who appeared to be the child's father, gently cupped the little girl's cheeks with both hands and smiled at her. She had her hair tied into pigtails.

 

Standing beneath the restaurant's bright lights, Ihyeon watched the scene with a dishcloth still clutched in his hand. He ran his tongue across his dry lips before answering.

 

“No. I don't like it either.”

 

Whenever the world became covered in pure white snow, the hazy sky from which the flakes fell seemed impossibly distant. As though it stretched so far away that there was no way to measure its depth.

 

The whiteness swallowed even the sounds around him. And sometimes, Ihyeon felt as though that endless white silence might crush him beneath its weight.

 

Winter was the season that made him most painfully aware of how completely alone he was.

 

“It's cold, after all.”

 

His face was reflected in the window.

 

Expressionless.

 

Dry.

 

Almost lifeless.

 

Ihyeon met the eyes of his own reflection. Then he slowly closed his eyes and turned away.

 

“Ihyeon, why don't you just stay at my place until you find your wallet?”

 

“You'll have to get a new transport card and sort out all sorts of other things. It'll be inconvenient, won't it?”

 

Subin lowered his eyebrows with concern and let out a small sigh. But Ihyeon calmly shook his head.

 

“If I look around at home, I'll probably find an old debit card I used before.”

 

“And they said the replacement cards I applied for should only take a few days.”

 

“Still…”

 

“Hyung, it's fine. I'm not a child.”

 

His voice was gentle but firm. There was something about his attitude that seemed to draw a subtle line between them.

 

Feeling slightly awkward, Subin gave an embarrassed smile and rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“All right, then.”

 

“I won't say anything more about it.”

 

“But at least take the taxi I've called for you.”

 

“You didn't look very well earlier.”

 

A cool hand rested lightly against Ihyeon's forehead. Rather than lifting his head and pushing the hand away, Ihyeon merely lowered his eyes and moistened his dry lips.

 

Subin studied his complexion. Then he leaned forwards and briefly pressed his lips against Ihyeon's smooth forehead. The unexpected warmth made Ihyeon blink a moment later than usual.

 

“See? You've got a fever.”

 

“Have you got any medicine at home?”

 

The unusual heat he'd felt against his lips made Subin's expression turn serious.

 

Frowning, he repeatedly touched Ihyeon's warm forehead and the back of his neck.

 

Apparently, that sticky, feverish sensation escaping with every breath wasn't simply the result of the pleasure they'd shared the previous night. Even with the freezing wind scraping sharply across his face, Ihyeon's breath remained unusually hot.

 

He definitely seemed to be coming down with a cold.

 

“I can stop at a pharmacy on the way.”

 

“Why don't you skip your part-time job today and come to the hospital with me—”

 

“Hyung, I think the taxi's here.”

 

Ihyeon interrupted him, looking to the side.

 

An orange taxi with its Reserved light illuminated was slowly approaching, accompanied by a black saloon car.

 

The narrow road was barely wide enough for vehicles to pass through. Illegally parked cars and advertising boards outside the nearby motel made the approach even more difficult.

 

Ihyeon tilted his head, gently moved Subin's hand away and stepped backwards. It almost looked as though he were simply making room for the taxi to stop. The vehicle's hazard lights flashed as it pulled up in front of them.

 

The jet-black saloon travelling directly behind it also slowed down.

 

Beep!

 

A short blast of the horn sounded. Ihyeon paused, glancing towards the car behind the taxi. Meanwhile, Subin hurried forwards and opened the rear passenger door. Then he pulled out his wallet and offered Ihyeon a fifty-thousand-won note.

 

“You haven't got any cash or anything else on you right now, have you?”

 

“Buy some porridge and medicine on your way home.”

 

“Thanks. I'll pay you back next week.”

 

“Don't worry about paying me back.”

 

“Just don't go straight to bed because you can't be bothered. Make sure you take some medicine.”

 

“And get home safely.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Ihyeon looked silently down at the thin banknote resting in his palm. Then he climbed into the taxi.

 

Subin remained standing beside the open door, one hand resting against its upper edge. He bent down to look at Ihyeon with an unmistakably affectionate expression. The tenderness in his eyes was almost that of a lover.

 

It made Ihyeon uncomfortable. He gently bit his lower lip. Keeping a certain distance between himself and other people was a habit he'd developed over many years. And that invisible boundary didn't apply only to Subin. It was something he'd maintained with everyone he'd encountered.

 

Like the police tape placed around the scene of an accident, there was an invisible line surrounding him. Anyone who attempted to cross it usually found themselves cut out of his life before very long. All Ihyeon wanted from the men he met was to share physical intimacy and a little warmth. That was enough.

 

Emotional attachment was unnecessary. He'd thought Subin, who was normally quick to understand other people's feelings, had already recognised that. But perhaps he'd misjudged him.

 

Suddenly, Ihyeon felt as though the ground beneath his feet had turned into a thick, muddy swamp. Something sticky and heavy seemed to be dragging him down.

 

Exhaustion began washing over him. Ihyeon sat in the back seat with his eyes lowered. Seeing him remain silent, Subin gave a short laugh and leaned into the car.

 

Once again, he lightly pressed his lips against Ihyeon's feverish forehead. Ihyeon could feel the taxi driver's gaze watching them through the rear-view mirror. He swallowed a sigh and closed his eyes.

 

“If you're still feeling really unwell later, don't force yourself to go to work.”

 

“Just call me.”

 

Subin slowly stroked Ihyeon's hair. Then, looking rather reluctant to leave, he carefully closed the car door.

 

The moment the cold, dry wind was shut outside, Ihyeon finally became aware of the warmth coming from the taxi's heater. The exposed skin on his arms began to tingle. He rubbed his forearms with his palms.

 

“Su-hyeon-dong, please.”

 

There was no reply. In the rear-view mirror, the middle-aged taxi driver's eyes showed obvious displeasure. Seeing two men making such a fuss over each other in broad daylight, and outside a motel of all places, probably hadn't been a particularly pleasant sight for him.

 

When Ihyeon was younger, that sort of reaction might have hurt him. But now? It meant nothing.

 

The taxi pulled away rather roughly. Ihyeon rested his forehead against the hard glass of the window.

 

When he closed his eyes, the cool surface began soothing the heat in his forehead. As his head gradually cooled, he became aware of a dull ache around his lower back. He wasn't cold. Yet somewhere inside him, there was a hollow emptiness. It was a feeling he sometimes experienced the morning after sharing a bed with someone.

 

I shouldn't have stopped Subin from leaving yesterday. The regret came too late. I need to put some distance between us.

 

Ihyeon swallowed the bitter feeling rising in his throat. Then he quietly released the breath that had caught in his chest.

 

Seung-hyuk was in a particularly foul mood that day, having been summoned by Chairman Gu the moment he opened his eyes. With Tae-sik away on other business, the new recruit assigned to drive him had spent the entire day wound tight, watching his every reaction.

 

They had collected a few documents from Nexus and were heading towards headquarters when a taxi suddenly cut into their lane. The driver braked sharply and was about to swear when he remembered Seung-hyuk in the back seat and hastily clamped his mouth shut. One wrong move and he was fucked.

 

At first, he had been so excited about getting to drive Seung-hyuk that he had forgotten: within the organisation, this was a man you had to be as careful around as the chairman himself.

 

Where his older brother was always cold and rational, Gu Seung-hyuk was the exact opposite. Rough. Raw and unrefined. The other recruits said he could be grinning and joking one moment, then turn around and put someone in the ground the next. Seung-hyuk was at his most frightening when he smiled.

 

The nervous driver glanced up at the rear-view mirror. Fortunately, Seung-hyuk appeared to be asleep with his arms folded. He let out a silent sigh of relief and glared at the back of the taxi responsible.

 

The real problem came afterwards. It would have been fine if their routes had only overlapped briefly, but the taxi ahead turned into the very same narrow alley they were heading for.

 

With Seung-hyuk apparently asleep, the driver decided to give the bastard a hard time and followed right on its tail. Whether the taxi driver was inexperienced or simply struggling to manoeuvre in the narrow space, the vehicle kept inching backwards and forwards. Each time, he edged closer, sniggering nastily.

 

“Hey.”

 

A low voice came from behind him. The blood seemed to drain from his entire body.

 

“Y-yes…?”

 

“Hang back and stop.”

 

He had thought Seung-hyuk was sleeping, but apparently he had only closed his eyes. There was no trace of drowsiness in his gaze as he stared at something outside.

 

The driver’s hands and feet began to go cold. Sweating, he glared at the orange taxi that had caused all this. It had stopped about five metres ahead, and two men who appeared to be passengers were approaching it.

 

“B-boss… I’m sor—”

 

“No. Move closer.”

 

This was clearly a moment to obey first and apologise later. Suppressing even the sound of his breathing, he carefully steered forwards. He stopped where they could see the passengers’ faces and the movements of their mouths, then gripped the steering wheel.

 

Fuuuuck… Why couldn’t they just hurry up? What the hell were they doing standing there?

 

He gave the horn a short blast. The men flinched, startled. When the shorter one turned towards them, Seung-hyuk met a pair of utterly expressionless eyes. Through the heavily tinted glass. A one-sided meeting of gazes.

 

“…Ha.”

 

It was Kwon I-hyeon. Beside him stood the tall man with the curly perm who had been hanging around him at the club.

 

The man frowned at their car, then took a fifty-thousand-won note from his wallet and held it out to I-hyeon. Seung-hyuk watched without moving. The banknote settled on a pale, slender hand. I-hyeon gazed at it with that clear, expressionless face, then accepted it and climbed into the taxi.

 

Without realising it, Seung-hyuk had already twisted one corner of his mouth upwards. The moment Su-bin pressed his lips to I-hyeon’s forehead, he let out a cold, disbelieving laugh. He watched the taxi pull away.

 

Two gay bastards. Outside a motel. A white hand accepting fifty thousand won. It hardly needed explaining.

 

His eyes went cold as his mouth curled. So five million was out of the question, but fifty thousand was fine.

 

“An interesting grasp of economics.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

Seung-hyuk clicked his tongue, his crossed foot twitching, then abruptly opened the door and got out. He checked his watch, cracked his stiff neck and opened the driver’s door. The terrified recruit stared up at him.

 

“Are you getting out yourself, or shall I drag you?”

 

“I-I’ll get out!”

 

The instant he undid his seat belt, Seung-hyuk grabbed him by the collar and threw him out. Settling behind the wheel, he looked down at the low-ranking recruit staring blankly up from the ground.

 

“Unless you want your arms and legs fucked up and a few months in hospital, don’t ever get behind a wheel in front of me again. Understood?”

 

The door slammed and the car moved before the man had even finished stammering his reply. He remained sitting there for a long time, apparently forgetting that he had just been hurled onto the ground.

 

At the far end of the alley, the orange taxi was only just pulling out. It turned left. The black saloon sped straight ahead.nA sign attached to a utility pole read 50. He was speeding.

 

A luxury saloon screeched to a halt outside a gleaming building.

 

Beside the entrance, directly beneath a No Smoking sign, a man was openly smoking while smacking new employees over the head with a sheaf of papers. He frowned.

 

“What fucker—”

 

He raised his head belligerently, only to meet the eyes of Gu Seung-hyuk behind the wheel. The moment he realised who it was, he flicked his cigarette away and hurried towards the car.

 

The new employees followed, watching nervously, but before they reached it, the driver’s door opened and a black shoe touched the ground. The man bent into a ninety-degree bow.

 

“Please go straight in, boss! I’ll park it!”

 

“Boss?”

 

“Ah—my apologies, Director!”

 

Perhaps it was because of the fucking spectacle outside the motel that morning.

 

Everything irritated him: the constant bowing and scraping, the faint smell of cigarettes, even the faded tattoos covering the backs of the man’s hands. Seung-hyuk looked down at him coldly.

 

“You looked busy. Why don’t you finish what you were doing?”

 

“N-no, sir. My apologies, Director.”

 

“Department.”

 

“…Moon Hyun-seung, manager, Business Support Team Two.”

 

As the man stiffened, the people behind him began bowing repeatedly, their faces frightened. Every last one of them got on Seung-hyuk’s nerves. He hooked a finger under Manager Moon’s shirt cuff, lifted it, then let it fall.

 

“If you want to parade around looking like a gangster, you should’ve stayed out in the field. Instead of colouring yourself in and bullying kids outside headquarters.”

 

“I-I’m sorry. I’ll correct it!”

 

“Correct it, my arse. Report to the container office from next week. I’ll let the people on site know.”

 

Manager Moon’s mouth snapped shut, his eyes widening in dismay. Seung-hyuk merely stared down at him. Closing his eyes, he ran a hand over his brow.

 

“Do I need to say it twice?”

 

“N-no! Understood! Thank you, boss!”

 

Manager Moon folded himself forwards with a stricken expression, and the recruits behind him followed suit. From their faces, they still had not quite grasped what had happened.

 

Seung-hyuk had no intention of standing there and explaining it. He left them behind and headed into the building. A faint groan sounded at his back.

 

As he approached the sleek lobby, the enormous blue-glass tower loomed over him. That this respectable building in central Seoul had been constructed from people’s blood and flesh was a secret everyone knew and nobody discussed.

 

The words Taeseong Group were carved into a stone almost two metres high outside the lobby. Only a few years earlier, the organisation had roamed the back streets under the name Taeseong Gang.

 

It had scraped by managing nightlife establishments and selling drugs around Incheon, Bucheon and western Seoul. Turning it into a sprawling operation involved in smuggling, drug distribution, prostitution and everything in between had been the achievement of Chairman Gu, currently sitting at the top of that building.

 

But the vague label of ‘Group’ merely meant that they would do anything that made money. In reality, it was a slightly more elegant name for the same organisation that had always operated outside the law.

 

Chairman Gu knew it too. He had always wanted respectable words attached to Taeseong.vConstruction. Development. Logistics. Entertainment. Things like that.

 

His longstanding ambition, to turn the businesses they had quietly run as a gang into companies, with Taeseong as the holding company, was almost within reach. That was probably why he had summoned Seung-hyuk to this spotless headquarters when, until now, he had only ever been entrusted with quietly handling the dirty work.

 

Seung-hyuk pushed his dishevelled hair back and undid the top button of his shirt. Just thinking about going upstairs to face that snake already made his throat feel tight.

 

“Good afternoon, Director!”

 

“Good afternoon!”

 

A group of men in suits spotted him striding through the lobby and hurried over, lining up in formation. Customers in the café stared wide-eyed at the row of burly men standing rigidly to attention.

 

“Easy, boys. Easy. You’ll frighten the customers away.”

 

Clicking his tongue softly, Seung-hyuk headed towards the lifts. The man at the front darted ahead to press the button, bowing obsequiously.

 

“Welcome, boss.”

 

“The chairman’s upstairs?”

 

“Yes. But what brings you here at this hour—”

 

“Do I report to you now?”

 

Seung-hyuk tilted his head as he spoke. The man’s face froze. Bowing deeply, he began apologising over and over. Seung-hyuk watched him for a moment, then looked away with a short laugh.

 

“Look at you, shitting yourself.”

 

The lift stopped on the nineteenth floor. Seung-hyuk turned towards the chairman’s office without hesitation.

 

The man who had accompanied him hurried after him as though he wanted to say something. But when Seung-hyuk opened the office door and walked straight in, he stopped, merely wetting his lips. Secretary Yoon sprang up in surprise.

 

“Director, it’s only two o’clock. What brings—”

 

“I’m going in.”

 

“Please wait. Right now—!”

 

Ignoring the secretary’s hurried attempt to intercept him, Seung-hyuk flung open the heavy inner door.

 

The first thing he saw was two people sitting on a glossy leather sofa. Both pairs of eyes swung towards him. Seung-hyuk swallowed a short curse between his teeth.

 

Fuck. So that was why everyone had been acting like that.

 

“Director, I’m afraid you’ll have to come back a little—”

 

“Ah, Director Gu. Good timing. I was just about to tell them to bring you in early.”

 

Chairman Gu’s sharp look at the interruption softened into a smile. His faded, greying hair and the deep furrows in his forehead bore the indelible marks of time. There was not a trace of kindness in the old man’s face.

 

Nor could money, power or prestige conceal the sickly pallor beneath it.

 

“Secretary Yoon, another cup of tea.”

 

“…Yes, Chairman.”

 

“Seung-hyuk, come and sit.”

 

They were hardly a happy family. Seung-hyuk had no desire to sit at the same table and chat, but he could hardly turn around now. Clenching his teeth, he moved away from the doorway. Rather than taking the seat the chairman indicated, he dropped heavily into the one beside it. The man opposite, who had been sipping his tea, raised his eyes sharply. Seung-hyuk leant against the sofa with an exaggerated smile.

 

“I'd hate to give myself indigestion drinking tea while looking straight at you. Maybe you're different, hyung, but I'm more delicate than I look.”

 

He laughed and shrugged. Jin-hyuk turned away, his face cold. Secretary Yoon came in and placed an expensive teacup before Seung-hyuk. Wisps of steam rose from the gently trembling, deep golden liquid.

 

“How was Nexus? Now you've had a look.”

 

“They're all much the same, these places. What's so special?”

 

Reclining with his arms on the sofa's armrests, Chairman Gu took a cigar from the wooden case on the table. His wrinkled hand shook visibly, but nobody mentioned it.

 

“Thirty per cent of the money coming into Taeseong passes through there. That's why I wanted to hold on to it myself.”

 

“…”

 

“But it seems the bastards on the listing committee noticed something during the TS Capital review.”

 

The sharp cigar cutter had barely snipped off the tip before Gu Jin-hyuk flicked on a lighter and held it before the chairman. The Zippo's lid closed with a light click.

 

“As you've probably guessed, Seung-hyuk, I'm thinking of leaving Nexus to you.”

 

Silence settled over the office. Everyone knew this was an order dressed up as a suggestion. Seung-hyuk's opinion did not matter. Instead of answering, he bounced his crossed foot and clicked his tongue. Jin-hyuk shot him a fierce look from behind his glasses.

 

“Gu Seung-hyuk.”

 

“Leave him.”

 

At a single word from Chairman Gu, Jin-hyuk fell silent like a dog tucking its tail between its legs. Watching him, Seung-hyuk raised his teacup. The ornate blue porcelain half concealed the twisted curve of his mouth.

 

“It's all too tangled up to hand over to just anyone. As far as I'm concerned, you're the best man for it. It's about time you settled into a position and came into headquarters.”

 

Seung-hyuk let the subtly fragrant tea roll over his tongue. Chairman Gu exhaled a long stream of cigar smoke. Looking down at his steaming cup, Seung-hyuk moved his fingers idly. He had called Nexus an ordinary establishment, but in truth it was an enormous club occupying three basement floors beneath the largest hotel in central Bucheon. It was also the first business Chairman Gu had established back when Taeseong Group was still known as Taeseong Gang. Thanks to its location and the network of contacts cultivated over the years, a great deal still happened there: laundering money that could never be brought into the light, checking drugs before they were distributed to dealers at other branches.

 

So much of Taeseong's business was structured to pass through the place that Chairman Gu had always managed it himself. He had brought up the listing review, but the real reason was probably his worsening health.

 

“I heard the foreigners-only casino upstairs might be going up for auction too…”

 

“You hear things quickly. We'll be buying the hotel at the same time. Those money-grubbing foreign bastards were so fucking greedy it took some work.”

 

“If there's a hotel involved, wouldn't it be better for hyung to handle it?”

 

A faint amusement threaded through his deliberately casual tone. Seung-hyuk gave a cynical smile and tipped his head. Objectively speaking, it was not a bad offer. There was just one thing bothering him.

 

“I had a look through the paperwork. It doesn't seem as though you're the one actually running it anyway, Chairman.”

 

Chairman Gu narrowed his eyes at the insolent tone. Sighing, he tapped ash into the ashtray and sank back into the sofa.

 

“The days when I could manage all of it alone are over. Jin-hyuk has helped a great deal.”

 

“There's been plenty of talk lately about the bastard running the place spending time with Taeseong Corporation's outside directors. I take it you knew about that too.”

 

“Gu Seung-hyuk.”

 

Jin-hyuk, who had been sitting silently, spoke again. Even with that murderous glare fixed on him, Seung-hyuk merely shrugged.

 

“Well, I need to know how much the chairman knows if I'm supposed to play along with you, hyung.”

 

He leant back and lifted his cup. Jin-hyuk's eyes flashed. As their sharpened gazes crossed the table and the room grew cold, Chairman Gu sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead.

 

“Enough, both of you. Your brother isn't the sort to stab his own father in the back. I'm sure he had his reasons.”

 

Every figure in the documents Seung-hyuk had received pointed to Gu Jin-hyuk, not Chairman Gu, being the person actually running Nexus. The amusing part was that no effort had even been made to hide it. The chairman had no idea Jin-hyuk was erasing every trace of his involvement. He simply trusted whatever his dependable eldest son did. It almost made Seung-hyuk laugh. A clueless, toothless tiger behaving as though he were generously handing out a wonderful opportunity. It was as disgusting as it was ridiculous.

 

“Your brother has already laid the table for you. All you have to do is pick up a spoon. Accept it quietly.”

 

“Why doesn't my wonderful brother keep it? A rootless bastard like me might get indigestion if he forgets his place and helps himself.”

 

“Gu Seung-hyuk.”

 

This time, the voice came from opposite rather than beside him. Seung-hyuk turned towards its calm owner.

 

“Get up.”

 

Expressionless, Jin-hyuk took a small sip of tea, then began undoing his wristwatch. That tiny movement immediately sharpened Seung-hyuk's eyes. He looked at Chairman Gu, but the old man merely exhaled cigar smoke into the air. Seung-hyuk parted his lips and ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

 

“…There are rather a lot of expensive things in here for you to show off your nasty habits, hyung.”

 

“I said get up. Don't make me repeat myself.”

 

Seung-hyuk bit the inside of his cheek and began to rise. A dull thud snapped his head sideways. Before he could straighten his staggering body, Jin-hyuk seized his collar and drove another fist into him. A thump, then a crash. Seung-hyuk lost his balance and hit the floor. Black shoes approached. Drawing in a sharp breath, he wiped his mouth and braced himself on one hand.

 

“Ah… A man with all that education, and you still go straight to your fists.”

 

“I don't know a better way to train a dog.”

 

“Then learn, hyung. Keep that up and one day you'll get bitten.”

 

“Really?”

 

Jin-hyuk hauled him upright by the collar. Looking at Seung-hyuk's grimacing yet flippant face without a trace of humour, he tilted his head.

 

“Seung-hyuk. It's been a while since you visited the villa, hasn't it?”

 

The hand moving to wipe blood from his mouth stopped dead. The sneer vanished from Seung-hyuk's face. Slowly, he raised his eyes.

 

“Let's not have you forgetting your place and scurrying around until you get dragged off like a dog to slaughter. You're not an ignorant little brat any more. Shouldn't you act a little smarter?”

 

The hands straightening his crumpled shirt were rough. Seung-hyuk clenched his teeth until the muscles in his jaw bulged, then knocked Jin-hyuk's hand away. Jin-hyuk stared at him coldly.

 

“Too thick to understand what I'm saying?”

 

“Enough.”

 

Just as Jin-hyuk's fist began to rise again, Chairman Gu exhaled a long stream of smoke and intervened with a frown. Pressing his fingers to his temple as though thoroughly tired of them, he waved his cigar hand and glared. Jin-hyuk lowered his hand, straightened his suit and returned to his seat. With both arms resting on the sofa, Chairman Gu watched Seung-hyuk through narrowed eyes. Through the drifting smoke, Seung-hyuk's face looked unnaturally blank. Something about it instinctively unsettled him, sharpening his gaze.

 

“Jin-hyuk will start preparing to inherit the company. You'll work beneath the surface, Seung-hyuk. Jin-hyuk will work above it.”

 

“…”

 

“The two of you must lead Taeseong together.”

 

Wiping the blood from his split mouth, Seung-hyuk let out a hollow laugh. He rubbed the back of his hand on his shirt and pushed himself up from the floor.

 

“It seems taking over Nexus has already been decided, and you don't appear to have anything else to say. I'll be going. It won't do either of us any good if word gets around that your precious director left the chairman's office beaten half to death, will it?”

 

Two hostile pairs of eyes remained fixed on him, but his face was calm. He ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek, tasting blood where the flesh had split, and sauntered towards the door.

 

“I'll send the additional Nexus documents through Kwak Tae-sik. And stop attending those gatherings yourself. There's no benefit in leaving loose ends all over the place.”

 

He had made certain the manager kept his mouth shut about the orgy in Nexus's basement. There was no way Chairman Gu had heard directly. The information must have come through Gu Jin-hyuk. Which meant there was a rat running around the establishment without an ounce of fear. Still standing by the door, Seung-hyuk turned his head slightly. Jin-hyuk sat upright, drinking his tea as though nothing had happened. The pain inside Seung-hyuk's cheek seemed to arrive all over again.

 

“If there's anything you need to check, ask Manager Kim. Tell Secretary Yoon to come in on your way out.”

 

With his hand around the door handle, Seung-hyuk gave a quiet, crooked laugh. He pulled the door open, then turned as though something had just occurred to him.

 

“Chairman. I'll call Secretary Yoon in, but do try to take it a little easy when you're fucking in the office.”

 

“What?”

 

“It might be awkward facing the lads if they find out you and your eldest son are sticking it in the same hole.”

 

That petty little jab was the sum total of the revenge he could take on Gu Jin-hyuk. Even to himself, it was pathetic. Seung-hyuk smiled bitterly and stepped away.

 

“I'm off.”

 

Their stares burned into the back of his head, but the office door slammed shut. The moment it did, every trace of amusement disappeared from his face. He took out his phone and called Tae-sik.

 

“Tae-sik. I think we've got a rat at Nexus. Let's set aside a day and give the place a proper clean.”

 

“Yes, boss. I'll get on it.”

 

“And find out what Gu Jin-hyuk's been getting out of the place.”

 

He started walking as the reply came through. His brow tightened when he wiped the split corner of his mouth with a finger. Scrubbing away the blood with the back of his hand, he headed towards the lifts. His shoes clicked through the quiet corridor. It did not take long to find the person leaking Nexus's internal information. Several sets of footsteps echoed along the corridor to the manager's office.

 

“Where is he?”

 

“Tied up in the storeroom. From what he's said, he was just following orders from above. Looks like a disposable errand boy.”

 

Tae-sik watched Seung-hyuk carefully as he rolled his neck and took off his suit jacket. One corner of his well-shaped mouth was split, as though someone had hit him. It was not difficult to guess what had happened at headquarters a few days earlier. Tae-sik stood a little straighter, determined not to irritate him. The office looked as though a storm had swept through it. Envelopes and loose papers littered the sofa, the desk and even the floor. Every drawer stood open. Seung-hyuk surveyed the scene with his weight on one leg, then handed Tae-sik his jacket and headed towards the adjoining storeroom. The two men guarding it bowed and opened the door. He ducked inside. A man was kneeling in the middle.

 

Click. Click, click. The sound of his shoes sent a chill through the cramped space. With the gang members standing around like a folding screen, Seung-hyuk crouched and met the kneeling man's eyes. The man began shaking harder.

 

“I hear you were caught going through the files in the manager's office.”

 

“I-I was only… It's my job to clean in there…”

 

Bound, trembling and beaten bloody, he looked rather pitiful. Seung-hyuk showed no reaction. He turned the frightened face from side to side with one hand, then let it go as though tossing it away. Glancing around in boredom, he went over to a metal chair and dropped into it. The moment he put a cigarette between his lips, someone hurried to light it. He exhaled, watching the shaking man, then frowned at the pain in his split mouth.

 

“P-please spare me. I don't know anything.”

 

“If you don't know anything, why are you shaking so much?”

 

“Director… sir…”

 

“How does a part-timer know I'm a director?”

 

Ignoring the pleading voice, Seung-hyuk exhaled slowly. He tapped a finger against the armrest.

 

“Let's see… I doubt Manager Kim told you to pull every single drawer out and wipe it down.”

 

“Th-that was already… Before I went in, it was like—”

 

“The only person I know who's that fussy about tidying up is Gu Jin-hyuk.”

 

At the name, surprise flashed across the frightened face. Seung-hyuk gave a short laugh.

 

“You must've thought you'd smuggled everything out without Manager Kim noticing. Hearing there was a ledger you didn't know about must've given you a shock. I get the shivers myself when Gu Jin-hyuk loses it.”

 

“H-how did you…”

 

“But you could've spared a thought for whoever had to clean up afterwards.”

 

Manager Kim was Chairman Gu's right-hand man. There would have been limits to how freely Jin-hyuk could use him. It had been easy enough to deduce that he had planted someone new. The only surprise was that the rat had been stupid enough to walk straight into such a flimsy trap. Gu Jin-hyuk. You really have been doing whatever you fucking liked here. Remembering Chairman Gu's oblivious pride, Seung-hyuk smiled sourly. He rattled his lighter and looked down at the part-timer. From the state of him, it would take very little to get everything he knew out of him.

 

Already bored, Seung-hyuk checked his phone. One of the men outside approached.

 

“Boss. We found this in the corner of the manager's office.”

 

A small, worn leather wallet was placed in his hand.

 

“Yours?”

 

He asked the part-timer absently and flipped it open. Then he met a familiar face in the photograph on the identity card.

 

“…Ha.”

 

Straight black hair stopped just above the eyebrows. The eyes, with their faint inner creases and slightly upturned corners, gave a cool impression, but the calm expression softened the face overall. The little mole beneath the right eye stood out. The photograph must have been taken not long after he reached adulthood. The face was close to the one in Seung-hyuk's memories. Old, faded recollections seemed to flicker before him. He stared expressionlessly at the name beside it, Kwon I-hyeon, and ran his thumb over the photograph.

 

“Now this makes things a bit more interesting.”

 

Did the idiot not realise how flimsy it looked to leave a wallet containing someone's identity card at the scene? Had Jin-hyuk really planted someone this dim? Watching the part-timer gauge his reaction after such a pathetic attempt at deception, Seung-hyuk let out a humourless laugh. That he had chosen Kwon I-hyeon of all people was particularly ridiculous. Yet after looking down at the identity card, Seung-hyuk beckoned Tae-sik.

 

“Where's Manager Kim?”

 

“He's just gone upstairs to see whether the wallet's owner has come in.”

 

“Tell him to find him and bring him here.”

 

“Sir?”

 

He knew at once that I-hyeon had nothing to do with this. He called for him anyway because he wanted to see those indifferent eyes fill with embarrassment or shame. The way that gay bastard acted as though he had nothing to do with the filth of the world had been getting on his nerves. When he was the dirtiest of the lot, fucking other men. A few of the men answered and left the storeroom. Seung-hyuk smoked slowly. Every time he looked down at the wallet, the face from his memories met his eyes.

 

Something, disgust or irritation, he could not tell, began simmering low in his stomach. He had no desire to drag out some pathetic connection he had severed long ago. Yet whenever Kwon I-hyeon's face appeared, his previously settled insides seemed to boil. Remembering the emotionless way I-hyeon had looked at him, Seung-hyuk exhaled a long stream of smoke.

 

When I-hyeon connected his phone to the portable charger in his locker, a zero appeared in the middle of the screen. He stared at his reflection in the glass, then closed his eyes and leant his head against the wall. The cold that had been lingering since the day he spent with Su-bin was weighing heavily on his whole body. Even after taking medicine, his headache was severe. It felt as though someone were driving a sharp awl into the crown of his head. I should go to a clinic after work. Will anywhere be open at that hour, though…?

 

At least it was a weekday. Not having to fight his way through a club packed with drunken customers was some comfort. Even so, the thought of disappearing into that pounding music left him exhausted before his shift had begun. With a sigh, he rubbed his face and straightened. Fortunately, he was not on the opening shift, so there was little to prepare. He was attaching his name badge to his shirt when hurried footsteps approached along the corridor.

 

“Has anyone seen I-hyeon oppa? Is he here yet?”

 

It was Yun-jin, who ought to have been upstairs preparing to open. They worked on different floors, so she had no reason to be searching for him so urgently at this hour. After checking that his locker was properly shut, I-hyeon left the staffroom.

 

“I-hyeon oppa!”

 

Her already large eyes widened further when she spotted him. She hurried over and seized both his arms.

 

“Have you done something?”

 

“…Done something?”

 

“The manager's going mad, telling us to bring you in right now! And why's your phone switched off?”

 

“The battery…”

 

His brow creased faintly.

 

Nothing came to mind. Even if he had made a mistake, it was hard to imagine the manager looking for him like this. Perhaps it would have made sense if his job involved approaching customers or, like Su-bin, discreetly offering little stamps dusted with white powder. But all I-hyeon did here was odd jobs. There was nothing in his work that could cause that sort of trouble.

 

“What happened?”

 

“I don’t know! But what did you do to make the manager go white and start asking for you? Nothing comes to mind?”

 

Gu Seung-hyuk’s face in the downstairs VIP lounge flashed through his thoughts. But that had been some time ago. If he had meant to do anything about it, he would have done it already. His head throbbed.

 

I-hyeon lowered his eyes, pressed his lips together and shook his head. Yun-jin frowned, worried about how unusually pale he looked.

 

“This is so weird…! The manager hardly ever asks for ordinary staff by name. Anyway, you should go down quickly. Don’t give him an excuse to have a go at you for being late.”

 

Her gaze shifted over I-hyeon’s shoulder, and her voice suddenly faded. Before he could turn to see whom she had spotted, a swaggering voice reached him.

 

“Well… I was wondering why Manager Kim was taking so long. Turns out our friend here’s been standing around having a chat.”

 

I-hyeon slowly turned towards the sound.

 

Several burly men stood behind him, dressed entirely in black, right down to their shirts. The thick gold necklace around the man at the front's neck gleamed each time he smacked his gum.

 

“What are you doing here with this pretty lady?”

 

They looked as though they had walked out of an outdated gangster film. They had started appearing at the club a few weeks earlier, roaming about and interfering with everything as though they owned it. None of the security guards could stand up to them.

 

Once the employees and part-timers had seen the manager bowing and scraping too, they had followed his example.

 

“Ah, oppa… Well, I should get back to opening up…”

 

Yun-jin glanced nervously around, forced an awkward smile and turned away. She grabbed several part-timers as they approached and hurried them off with her.

 

One of the men whistled after her. They exchanged a few lewd remarks, then approached I-hyeon, gum still snapping between their teeth.

 

“Kid. Our boss wants a quick word. You heard?”

 

A heavy arm settled around his shoulders. Cheap aftershave and stale cigarette smoke washed over him.

 

I-hyeon looked at the blunt stump of the man’s little finger where the nail should have been, then slowly closed and reopened his eyes.

 

One accidental reunion with a rotten connection from the past had been enough. He could dismiss the last incident as a one-off. A second was different.

 

What did Seung-hyuk want this time? Another ridiculous excuse to pick a fight? He must have been bored with nothing to do, but I-hyeon had no desire to entertain him any longer. It was not as though Seung-hyuk had anything over him. There was no reason to keep going whenever he called.

 

With a slight frown, I-hyeon knocked the hand off his shoulder.

 

“Well, look at that temper.”

 

The men only sniggered. I-hyeon looked up at them without expression as they exchanged amused glances, then turned to leave. Their faces twisted, and one grabbed his arm hard.

 

“Hey. Where the fuck do you think you’re going? I told you to come while I was asking nicely.”

 

Pain shot through his arm. He tried to shake the hand off, but the grip only tightened. He glared up at them. They laughed in disbelief.

 

“Wow. This bastard’s got some nerve. What are you going to do, staring like that? We know you and that part-timer teamed up to turn over the manager’s office. Who the fuck do you think you’re glaring at?”

 

“What?”

 

The accusation was so unexpected that he could only ask again. They did not explain. With grim faces, they simply dragged him away. Struggling did nothing.

 

One of them called someone and announced that they had found I-hyeon and were bringing him down. By then, I-hyeon had no choice but to stop resisting. He had no idea what they meant about robbing the office, but running away would only make him look more suspicious.

 

His lower lip had gone pale beneath his teeth. When he finally relaxed his clenched fists, the man hauling him along glanced down.

 

“Fine. Just let go of my arm.”

 

“…”

 

“I won’t run. Let go.”

 

His pale, clear face was faintly flushed from the struggle. Something about his resigned expression looked almost forlorn. Without realising it, the man loosened his grip.

 

They took him to the office tucked away in a corner of the second basement floor. There was no nameplate, but the manager spent most of his time there, so the staff called it the manager’s office.

 

Inside, it looked as though someone had broken in. Several security guards were gathering up papers.

 

The men ahead walked straight through the mess without a second glance. I-hyeon followed warily, keeping about three paces behind them. They had said Gu Seung-hyuk wanted him. Why had they brought him to an empty office?

 

He stopped, watching them tensely. But rather than turning on him as he feared, they approached a small storeroom door behind the desk.

 

Knock, knock.

 

It was strange to see them knock on a storeroom door when they had not bothered at the office entrance. No answer came, but after a short pause, they pushed the handle.

 

Damp mould and cold air spilt out. A bad feeling stopped I-hyeon in his tracks. Someone shoved him from behind.

 

The door creaked and slammed. The sharp sound rang through the room. The old fluorescent light flickered precariously as the wall vibrated. In the blinking light, the first thing I-hyeon saw was someone crouching in the middle of the floor.

 

“Boss. We’ve brought him.”

 

Seung-hyuk lifted his head. Heaters positioned around the room cast a red glow over his strongly defined face. I-hyeon, who had been clenching his fists, swallowed involuntarily.

 

Seung-hyuk released the collar in his hand and slowly stood. His bored gaze held no excitement, no anger, no emotion at all as it travelled from I-hyeon’s head to his feet.

 

I-hyeon tightened his fists.

 

“Cough… cough… ngh!”

 

A painful fit of coughing broke the uneven silence. I-hyeon looked away from Seung-hyuk and lowered his eyes. Only then did he properly see the man whose collar Seung-hyuk had been holding.

 

The young part-timer was familiar. He was beaten to a bloody pulp, clear foam trailing from his mouth. His ruined fingers scratched at the dusty concrete floor before he lifted unfocused eyes towards I-hyeon.

 

“Ugh… hh…”

 

“Kim… Jin-seok?”

 

Jin-seok had once told him he had dropped out of a university he had only entered because his grades matched, and taken this job to save enough money to start a business.

 

Sometimes, seeing him reminded I-hyeon of his own early twenties. It had bothered him enough that he occasionally saved leftover fruit from the kitchen for him.

 

“Kim Jin-seok? What happened? Jin-seok!”

 

Forgetting everyone watching, I-hyeon rushed over and knelt beside him. Seung-hyuk looked down at them, then took a cigarette from the inner pocket of his jacket and put it between his lips.

 

“We keep running into each other.”

 

His voice was even, without inflexion. It did not reach I-hyeon. He patted Jin-seok’s face and spoke urgently.

 

“Hey, stay with me…! Are you all right? Can you see me?”

 

“Uh…”

 

Jin-seok’s eyes kept rolling upwards. Foamy saliva continued to drip from his mouth. It was worse than I-hyeon had realised.

 

With trembling hands, he tried to hold Jin-seok’s head steady, but it kept lolling to one side. A low laugh came from behind him. The men along the walls glanced at Seung-hyuk’s face and quietly closed their mouths.

 

“I say hello, and he doesn’t even answer.”

 

The sarcasm was too obvious for it to be a mere remark to himself. Determined not to rise to it, I-hyeon bit his lower lip hard and tried to lift Jin-seok.

 

An unconscious grown man was heavier than he had expected. He barely managed to get his hands beneath Jin-seok’s arms and haul him up against his shoulder.

 

Seung-hyuk stepped in front of him with a crooked smile. I-hyeon glared.

 

“Move.”

 

“We haven’t finished talking to him yet. Sorry, but you’ll have to put him down.”

 

“How can you calmly say that after doing this to someone?”

 

“We’re the ones who did it. It’d be stranger if we started crying about it.”

 

Jin-seok’s body began convulsing intermittently against I-hyeon’s shoulder. What if something happened to him while they stood here?

 

Every tremor travelled through I-hyeon’s rigid shoulders. His urgency grew. Seung-hyuk, in contrast, remained relaxed, grinning as though he were watching something entertaining. The way he toyed with people sent a cold clarity through I-hyeon’s head.

 

“Feels like a scene we’ve seen before, doesn’t it?”

 

Seung-hyuk sneered, turning his lighter with little clicks.

 

An old memory rose in I-hyeon too, but he forced it aside.

 

“…You find this funny?”

 

“Wouldn’t you? Watching a bastard who can’t even look after himself worry about someone else?”

 

The muscles below I-hyeon’s ear tightened, then eased. He did not want to stand here talking to Gu Seung-hyuk. Nor did he have time.

 

Without another glance, he adjusted his hold on Jin-seok and headed for the door. The gangsters standing there visibly braced themselves.

 

“Ah… You really are something.”

 

At the blatant dismissal, the mocking curl of Seung-hyuk’s mouth slowly flattened. He exhaled the smoke in his mouth, closed his eyes lazily and rubbed a palm over his lips.

 

“Hey. Where are you going?”

 

The eerily quiet voice dried I-hyeon’s mouth, but he kept walking. The hulking men now blocked the door.

 

“Please move.”

 

They looked over his shoulder. Standing with their hands behind their backs, they were as immovable as statues of knights in some medieval corridor.

 

“I asked you to—”

 

“Kwon I-hyeon. Do you think I called you here just to take him away?”

 

Something struck his calf and fell with a light thump. Footsteps retreated behind him, followed by the creak of the old metal chair. I-hyeon slowly looked down. A familiar wallet lay at his feet.

 

“Apparently, some little rat had the nerve to mess about in the manager’s office. They found that wallet there.”

 

“…”

 

“Funny, though. When we set a trap, he was the one we caught.”

 

I-hyeon swallowed and slowly turned.

 

Seung-hyuk no longer seemed to be joking.

 

“One of you is the real thing, and the other’s a decoy. Which do you think is which?”

 

“…”

 

“No. Which do you think I’ll make?”

 

I-hyeon had no idea why his missing wallet had turned up in the office. But this was not the moment to think about that.

 

Apparently, rather than worrying about Jin-seok, he needed to hope he would not end up in the same state. Watching I-hyeon stare at the wallet, Seung-hyuk curled his mouth.

 

“Feel like talking now?”

 

I-hyeon could only bite his lip. The men behind him took Jin-seok’s weight with an ease that made I-hyeon’s earlier struggle seem absurd.

 

This time, he let go without resisting. Jin-seok’s wrist dropped from his hand. I-hyeon clenched his teeth.

 

“We can take our time finding out what happened to him…”

 

Seung-hyuk slowly crossed his legs.

 

“What shall we do with you?”

 

“…”

 

“I’m a bit tired of using my fists.”

 

He rubbed his wrist as though making a joke. I-hyeon’s wariness deepened. The other people’s gazes now felt openly threatening. Seung-hyuk looked at him and spoke casually.

 

“Want to grab my trouser leg and cry a little? Who knows? I might feel sorry for you and let it slide.”

 

The mockery was unmistakable. When I-hyeon lowered his eyes without answering, Seung-hyuk continued.

 

“If you don’t fancy that, you could give the lads a show.”

 

“You like that sort of thing.”

 

I-hyeon swallowed, unable to grasp his meaning. Seung-hyuk snorted at his trembling eyelids and leaned back.

 

“Hey, boys. Any of you ever seen a couple of gay bastards going at it?”

 

I-hyeon’s eyes shot upwards. Seung-hyuk rested his head against the chair, one foot moving idly.

 

The men looked startled. Usually, even the mention of homosexuality was enough to sour his mood. His bringing it up himself was unexpected. They exchanged uncertain glances until one of them caught on and answered jokingly.

 

“Ugh, boss. Just thinking about it makes me sick. Where’s this coming from? Ha ha.”

 

Once someone broke the silence, the others joined in with awkward laughter. Seung-hyuk watched them, then continued.

 

“Humans and animals have sex to pass on their genes, or whatever it is. I may not have finished secondary school, but even I know that.”

 

“So isn’t it strange? A couple of men rubbing themselves together and swapping tongues. Fucking useless for breeding, isn’t it?”

 

Unable to follow where he was going, the men exchanged more uneasy looks.

 

Seung-hyuk noticed and laughed hollowly, putting his cigarette back between his lips.

 

“Ah. You lot don’t know.”

 

“He’s gay.”

 

His chin indicated I-hyeon, standing rigidly before them. The men fell silent and looked at one another. The air in the storeroom abruptly stilled.

 

Even at being outed so openly, I-hyeon showed no reaction. He simply bit his lower lip and glared at Seung-hyuk. Seung-hyuk stared back with unwavering black eyes.

 

For a moment they looked at each other. Then Seung-hyuk turned first and crooked a finger at someone.

 

“You. Come here.”

 

“M-me…?”

 

A young man standing tensely in the far corner looked around, then pointed at his chest. Clearly unnerved at being singled out, he shuffled forwards.

 

His eyes were sharp, but there was still something youthful about his face. His bleached yellow hair was frizzy and damaged at the ends. He had lean muscle and had apparently made a name for himself with his fists outside.

 

In front of Seung-hyuk, however, he looked like a teenage delinquent facing an adult.

 

He bowed instinctively.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“Jang Yun-su, boss!”

 

“Right, Yun-su. Give him a kiss in front of the boys.”

 

“…What?”

 

The unexpected instruction left him staring stupidly. Ordinarily, Seung-hyuk would have handed him over to Tae-sik for retraining the moment he answered like that. This time, he chuckled and kindly repeated himself.

 

“Kiss him. Let the boys see something unusual. I can hardly do it myself, can I?”

 

I-hyeon clenched his fists at the blatant insult. He did not dare move. Every part of him was tense as he glared at Seung-hyuk.

 

Yun-su looked between Seung-hyuk and the others. Realising it was not a joke, he shifted his gaze anxiously. He was afraid of doing the wrong thing and getting caught in the fallout.

 

He looked towards Tae-sik for help, but Tae-sik frowned and jerked his eyes as though telling him to hurry up and obey.

 

With no choice, Yun-su reluctantly approached I-hyeon.

 

An unfamiliar shoulder filled I-hyeon’s view of Seung-hyuk. The moment a rough, hot hand closed around his jaw and cheek, I-hyeon knocked it away with the back of his hand.

 

A sharp slap rang out. Awkward silence followed. Yun-su flushed red, then pale, and looked back at Seung-hyuk again.

 

“Ugh… ngh…”

 

Only Jin-seok’s laboured breathing broke the heavy silence as the men held him upright. Seung-hyuk sighed and stood.

 

“Ah… I-hyeon. Now you’ve disappointed everyone.”

 

“All right, all right. Is it because I’m asking you to do it for nothing?”

 

Muttering as though indulging a disobedient child, he searched through his wallet and frowned. Then he held a hand out behind him.

 

“Hey. I’ve only got cheques. Have you got a fifty-thousand-won note?”

 

“Yes, boss.”

 

“Let me have it. He’s as fussy as he looks. Apparently, if you give him too much, he won’t take it.”

 

He sniggered as a yellow banknote landed in his hand. Walking over, he folded it in half and tucked it into I-hyeon’s shirt pocket.

 

The acrid smell of cigarettes reached him as Seung-hyuk came close, but I-hyeon kept his eyes fixed on him.

 

“You should’ve told me the amount was too high. How was I supposed to know?”

 

I-hyeon remained silent. Seung-hyuk patted his shoulder encouragingly, his handsome face still smiling despite the fierce glare.

 

I-hyeon clenched his molars, knocked his hand away and forced out the words.

 

“…I don’t do that for money.”

 

“Then don’t take the money. Just do it.”

 

“Does this look like a fucking suggestion?”

 

Seung-hyuk’s expression changed abruptly. The whites beneath his irises showed as he raised his eyes and growled. The men standing around them stiffened at the sudden hostility.

 

“Ah. Or is he not your type?”

 

“Apparently, even bastards who get hard over another dick have preferences.”

 

He stepped closer. I-hyeon could see his own tense reflection in those piercing eyes.

 

As I-hyeon clenched his fists, Seung-hyuk spoke without looking away.

 

“Someone go outside and fetch the boy with the brown perm.”

 

“Yes, boss!”

 

The standoff continued only briefly before someone was dragged in, frightened and bewildered. Seung-hyuk glanced up to check his face, then finally stepped back.

 

I-hyeon released a short breath he had not realised he was holding. The faint trace of Seung-hyuk’s aftershave lingered in the air.

 

“Um… Why… did you want to see me…?”

 

He recognised the wary, anxious voice. Turning, he met Su-bin’s frightened eyes.

 

Su-bin’s eyes widened when he saw I-hyeon. Then he spotted Jin-seok, barely breathing in his battered state, and his mouth fell open in horror.

 

“Why… why am I suddenly…?”

 

“Ah. Kwon I-hyeon’s pickier than I expected.”

 

Seung-hyuk gestured towards Jin-seok, his eyes curving with a smooth, artificial smile.

 

“If you don’t want to end up like him, hurry up and put your lips on I-hyeon’s. Give us a bit of tongue.”

 

“It’s hardly difficult for people like you.”

 

Back in the metal chair, he tapped the lighter against his palm. Su-bin glanced between I-hyeon’s rigid face and Seung-hyuk’s humourless one, then began hesitantly moving towards I-hyeon.

 

“…Don’t.”

 

The quiet murmur reached Seung-hyuk. It almost sounded pleading, though surely that was impossible. He gave an idle laugh and checked his watch.

 

“It’s working hours, like you said. And you said you didn’t want the money.”

 

“Ah… I’m starting to get bored, I-hyeon.”

 

It was Su-bin who tensed at the gentle tone. After a quick glance around, he drew his brows together pleadingly and lightly gripped I-hyeon’s arms.

 

“Ooh!”

 

Mocking cheers rose around them. Humiliation tightened I-hyeon’s fists and jaw. Let’s just get it over with and leave. That seemed to be what Su-bin’s eyes were saying. Fear outweighed the degradation of being displayed like monkeys in a zoo. Su-bin’s hands cupped his neck and jaw. Feeling those hands tremble against his skin, I-hyeon met his gaze. His black eyes were wavering. He could not let the innocent Su-bin suffer any more because of him.

 

Resigned, I-hyeon looked away and fixed his gaze on a point beside Su-bin’s ear. Su-bin’s face approached his stiff one. Click, click, click. To the steady sound of the lighter wheel, Seung-hyuk’s gaze fixed on them. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. The lighter struck the chair’s armrest with short, hard sounds. Seung-hyuk did it without realising, forcing down the unpleasant revulsion rising from below his navel.

 

He watched coldly, like someone being made to look at something they could not bear. Just before their lips met, he tightened his fist around the Zippo. Almost simultaneously, the door that had seemed as though it would never open creaked wide.

 

“I wondered what you were doing, gathering everyone in a storeroom.”

 

A voice slightly higher than Seung-hyuk’s, but similarly level, cut through the air. The lips that had almost touched drew apart. Only then did I-hyeon let out the breath he had been holding.

 

“Suddenly taken an interest in queer stuff? What’s all this?”

 

The instant Seung-hyuk saw the newcomer, his face twisted. The surrounding men also looked startled, then hastily bowed. Only I-hyeon, Su-bin and Seung-hyuk kept their heads up. Seung-hyuk stared at the man with his fist clenched hard on the armrest. The newcomer looked slightly shorter than him, but his suit was far more impeccably arranged. Judging from the others’ reactions, he was connected to Seung-hyuk’s company. Instinctively, I-hyeon knew nothing good could come of becoming involved with him.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

“What do you think? Word’s spread that someone was caught playing games in Father’s establishment. I came to have a look.”

 

Jin-hyuk swept his gaze around the storeroom, pausing on Jin-seok’s face where he was being held in the corner. Despite seeing the man he had planted beaten beyond recognition, his expression showed no surprise. He looked Jin-seok up and down, then patted his shoulder as though to encourage him. Terror filled the swollen eyes, but Jin-hyuk turned away as though it were of no consequence.

 

“Who are these two?”

 

His attention shifted to I-hyeon and Su-bin. As his curious gaze reached them, Seung-hyuk’s eyes sharpened.

 

“Didn’t you come here to say something? Kwak Tae-sik. Get them all out.”

 

“Why? Let me have a look. Were the three of them a team? I’m curious who had the nerve to try something like this.”

 

He began strolling towards I-hyeon and Su-bin. Watching him, Seung-hyuk growled.

 

“You bastards. I said get them out. Do I have to say it again?”

 

“Leave them.”

 

Jin-hyuk’s firm voice cut across Seung-hyuk’s rising one. Caught between conflicting orders, the men looked from one to the other, then obeyed the higher-ranking Jin-hyuk and remained still. The muscle in Seung-hyuk’s jaw bulged. Passing Su-bin without interest, Jin-hyuk lightly took I-hyeon’s chin and lifted his face. Fever and tension had reddened the skin around his eyes. Jin-hyuk looked at him and remarked casually.

 

“He’s pretty.”

 

The man looking down at him was handsome, but there was a peculiar chill in his gaze. I-hyeon’s eyes sharpened. He knocked Jin-hyuk’s hand away. Amusement flickered across Jin-hyuk’s face. He gave a short laugh, then walked away without pursuing it. He stopped before Seung-hyuk’s chair and looked down, smiling faintly.

 

“Gu Seung-hyuk. The chairman gives you a good opportunity, and instead of saying thank you and doing your job, you waste time on nonsense.”

 

He tipped his neck from side to side as though loosening up. Tae-sik immediately began pushing I-hyeon and Su-bin towards the door. Su-bin supported the unconscious Jin-seok and hurried out. Before following, I-hyeon looked back. Gu Seung-hyuk sat in the chair with his head turned aside. Gu Jin-hyuk stood before him, undoing his wristwatch. I-hyeon hesitated, unable to look away.

 

Su-bin grabbed his arm and pulled urgently. The moment he turned, the door snapped shut behind them.

 

“…Fuck.”

 

A quiet curse escaped Su-bin. I-hyeon pressed his lips together and walked faster. In the awkward silence, Jin-seok occasionally groaned.

 

“Oh my God…! What happened? Isn’t that Jin-seok?”

 

As they emerged onto the main floor, someone shattered the tense atmosphere with a cry. A group of staff rushed over and immediately reached for the unconscious man. The weight left I-hyeon’s shoulder, yet something still seemed to press down on it. He lowered his head and rubbed his face with one hand.

 

“Mi-jeong! Call 119! Get an ambulance!”

 

“I have! I told them to come round the back! Are you all right, oppa? What happened…?”

 

Amid worried and curious stares, a large man hoisted Jin-seok onto his back and hurried upstairs. The other staff followed noisily. As often happened after a commotion, the quiet felt all the deeper once they had gone. An uncomfortable silence settled between I-hyeon and Su-bin.

 

“Kwon I-hyeon. Do you know that man?”

 

They were in the brightly lit staffroom, but I-hyeon’s mind still seemed trapped in the dark storeroom. For some reason, the last scene he had witnessed would not leave him. He bit his lip.

 

“Kwon I-hyeon!”

 

“Hyung. Later.”

 

“Let’s talk later.”

 

He doubted he would have anything he could explain to Su-bin even then. But simply standing was an ordeal. The fever he had forgotten about burned at the back of his throat. Hot breath escaped between his half-open lips. The smell of blood seemed to cling to his nose. Each time he swallowed, he tasted it. He turned unsteadily.

 

“If anyone asks for me, tell them I’ve gone to a clinic.”

 

There was no way he could work normally today. Pressing his lips together, he turned his back. His voice had dwindled almost to nothing. No answer came. He left without hesitation. Bzz. Bzz. I-hyeon barely managed to move his heavy arm and feel around beside his pillow. His hand closed around the vibrating phone. With a sigh, he opened his eyes.

 

Yun-jin’s name was on the screen. It had already been a week since he had seen Gu Seung-hyuk in the second-basement office. The call had come later than he expected. He cleared his hoarse throat and answered.

 

“…Hello.”

 

“Oppa!”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Unlike his cracking voice, Yun-jin’s was full of energy. He frowned at the raw, tearing pain in his throat and answered quietly. She launched straight into everything she wanted to say, as though she had only been waiting for him to pick up.

 

“Are you really quitting? Last week the floor manager said you were ill and taking a week off, but when I asked again today, he said you weren’t coming back! But you’re not the sort to just leave without saying anything. And I don’t know what’s got into Su-bin oppa. Every time I mention you, he goes all serious and changes the subject!”

 

“Ah…”

 

“Did something happen that day? Wait, before that, are you really quitting?”

 

The day after Jin-seok was admitted to the hospital, it had been the club manager, not I-hyeon, who suggested he take a break while things settled down. He had said he had already transferred I-hyeon’s wages. Only now, hearing Yun-jin, did I-hyeon understand that I’ll call once things settle down had meant Don’t come back. He had wondered why someone who had never called him before was suddenly doing so.

 

Thinking about it now, telling him to wait for the commotion to die down had been strange in itself. At that place, a day without an incident was the exception.

 

“Oppa? Are you listening?”

 

He had worked there for quite a long time, yet being dismissed without discussion left him strangely unmoved. With the accusation of breaking into the manager’s office still hanging over him, perhaps he was lucky it had ended here. Remembering Gu Seung-hyuk’s fierce expression and Jin-seok lying beaten to a pulp, his foggy mind gradually cleared.

 

“…Sorry. Something came up. That’s how it turned out.”

 

“You could’ve told me earlier… Oppa, what’s wrong with your voice? Are you ill?”

 

“Just… a cold.”

 

“Oh no. Did I wake you?”

 

I-hyeon, who had been lying with an arm over his eyes, rubbed his face. He did not think he could get back to sleep. Pushing aside the thin blanket clinging to him with cold sweat, he sat up.

 

“No. It’s all right. Is Jin-seok doing any better? Did anything else happen after I left?”

 

“Don’t even ask. It’s been chaos all week. Oh, hang on! The boxes of coffee beans? Over there! Under the storeroom shelf!”

 

Her clear voice moved farther away. The faint music he had been hearing must have been from a café. A brief commotion came through the phone, then she spoke hurriedly.

 

“Oppa, something’s come up. I’ll call again later! Take your medicine and get some proper rest, all right?”

 

“…Okay.”

 

When the call ended, I-hyeon picked up the glass by his bed. The lukewarm water eased his dry throat enough to make him feel a little more human. He sat blankly for a while, then ran his tongue over his damp lips. Looking down at his phone, he opened his messages. There were advertisements and a few group-chat notifications. He scrolled down to Yoon Su-bin’s name and tapped it. The conversation was filled with message bubbles lined up on the right.

 

[Did the admission paperwork go all right?] [Is Jin-seok okay?] [Hyung, are you really busy?] Every message had been read. None had received a reply. He stared at the unmoving conversation and began typing, Call me when you have a moment. Just before sending it, his finger stopped. Every time I mention you, Su-bin oppa goes all serious and changes the subject. Yun-jin’s words brought back Su-bin’s face the last time they had seen each other at the club.

 

The way he had bitten his lip in shame while obeying Gu Seung-hyuk’s one-sided order. Without I-hyeon, he would never have had to endure that humiliation. Lowering his eyes and blinking slowly, I-hyeon moved his thumb. The sentence in the message box broke apart into letters, then disappeared into blank white space. He had thought they should gradually put some distance between them. He had not wanted it to happen like this. With a short breath, he hesitantly typed a new message.

 

[Hyung. I’m sorry. Please get in touch.] He watched the little unread ‘1’ remain beside it, then went back. His expressionless face reflected in the dark screen. Ever since meeting Gu Seung-hyuk again, everything seemed to be falling apart a little at a time. He buried his face in both hands and let out the breath he had been holding.

 

“…Ha.”

 

Seung-hyuk’s expression seemed to appear before him. The same helplessness and emptiness he had felt when confronted with a similar face long ago dragged at his whole body. It was as though the ground beneath him had become mud. His chest felt tight, as though someone had seized his lungs and squeezed them shut. His hand fumbled over the bedside table until it found a round plastic bottle. He tipped several tablets into his palm, put them together in his mouth, and swallowed them with water in a practised movement.

 

He rubbed his face briefly. The sky outside was hazy. It was just after two. The club was probably empty. Perhaps he should collect the things he had left in his locker before it got any later. As he slowly stood, the rustling of the blanket sounded unusually loud in the quiet room. Was it because he was ill, or because he had suddenly lost his job? For some reason, a corner of his chest felt cold.

 

“Cough…”

 

The moment the bus's rear doors opened, icy air swept over his face. The wind grew sharper by the day. Winter was deepening. I-hyeon stepped down from the bus and looked around. The entrance, which was filled every night with staff, smokers, and customers waiting to get in, was empty and quiet. Expressionless pedestrians hurried past as he turned towards the staff stairs. He went down to the door leading into the first-basement kitchen and began entering the familiar code. From inside came a disturbance. Sniggering. Loud voices. People.

 

Had he heard wrong? Before he could work it out, the door swung open. An unfamiliar man stood before him, his face flushed red. He was pulling up his trousers as though he had just come back from the toilet. A newly lit cigarette hung between his lips. Laughing with the men following him, he noticed I-hyeon and jumped back. Then he leant closer as though trying to focus and widened his eyes.

 

“Hey, hey. What’s this? Isn’t this that gay bastard?”

 

“Who?”

 

“The one who nearly kissed Yun-su downstairs! The kid who works here!”

 

“Oh, the day the executive director came?”

 

There were three men. From what they were saying, at least one had been there that day. They inspected I-hyeon and sniggered as though they had discovered something fascinating. His face emptied of expression. Pale and opaque, it looked like a wax doll.

 

“Fuck. I was guarding the lobby that day. I only heard about it from the others. This is him? You sure?”

 

“Yeah. Boss was in one hell of a mood. Everyone was scared shitless, and that mole was smashed to pieces, practically dying. It was fucking madness. Even I was shitting myself… But this one stood there with exactly that face. Yeah, it’s him.”

 

“Well, well. Looks like a girl, but he’s got some balls.”

 

Even with the insults exchanged directly in front of him, I-hyeon did not frown or show discomfort. He merely lowered the hand that had remained raised to enter the code. Looking down, he ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek. He did not know why they were here, but collecting his belongings now seemed impossible. I’ll have to ask Yun-jin or someone to clear my locker.

 

He sighed briefly and turned away. He was thinking he should buy some medicine on the way home when he began climbing the stairs.

 

“Urgh—”

 

“Hey! Where the fuck are you going while someone’s talking to you?”

 

His hoodie jerked tight against his throat. Frowning, he stumbled and turned to glare. They only laughed harder.

 

“Let go.”

 

He yanked the hood free, only for a hand to catch his wrist instead. The man scratched his forehead and lifted an eyebrow.

 

“Boss is inside. If you’ve come all this way, you should at least show your face. You can’t behave like that.”

 

“I’ve got no business with him. Let me go.”

 

“Ha ha. This one’s got a real temper.”

 

The man in front spat out his cigarette and dragged I-hyeon inside. He tried shaking off the grip as he was hauled along, but it was useless. Last time and this time alike, these people seemed well accustomed to dragging others about against their will. Each jolt of his weakened body made his head throb. He gave up struggling and bit his lower lip. The closer they came to the main floor, the louder the voices grew.

 

Cigarette smoke clouded the air. Laughter and conversation reverberated through the double-height space. If I’d known this would happen, I’d have stayed in bed. Frowning at the floor, I-hyeon slowly raised his eyes. The main hall was a shambles.

 

Sofas and tables had been shoved aside at random. Pizza boxes, beer cans and bottles of soju and whisky lay scattered in the middle. Plates and crystal glasses had clearly been taken from the kitchen. Expensive liquor bottles rolled on the floor. He was speechless. They were using a place that would open in a few hours, as though it were their own sitting room.

 

“Boooss!”

 

The man hauled I-hyeon roughly towards a sofa in the corner.

 

“We’ve got an entertaining visitor! I brought him straight over!”

 

Following the man’s gaze, I-hyeon saw someone lounging on the sofa. He looked up at the face and flinched. Gu Seung-hyuk. His face was a mess, as though someone had beaten him.

 

“Boss? Are you asleep?”

 

Seung-hyuk did not respond. He wore a vivid blue suit, the colour striking against the dark wine-red sofa. Just as I-hyeon wondered whether he was sleeping, the fingers around the whisky glass moved slowly. Clear ice clinked as it melted. Seung-hyuk’s eyelids gradually opened, revealing black eyes. The moment their gazes met, I-hyeon’s fists tightened. Why did that bruised and battered face feel so familiar? Was it because his expression was softer than usual? Or because I-hyeon could see traces of the distant past in those lowered eyes?

 

A blue bruise marked one temple. A reddish scab had formed where the corner of his mouth had split. Old memories seemed to overlap that wounded face. For no reason he could name, I-hyeon’s heart dropped.

 

“What brings you here at this hour?”

 

As the languid, husky voice sounded, their surroundings slowly quietened. I-hyeon felt every other man’s attention shift towards them. He clenched his fists, then murmured.

 

“I was only going to collect my things from the staffroom and leave. You don’t need to concern yourself.”

 

“Things? What things?”

 

“Do I have to tell you?”

 

Seung-hyuk gave a short laugh at the sharp tone and tilted his glass. Watching the golden liquid run over the round ice, he curled his mouth indifferently.

 

“Of course you do. How can I just let you leave when I don’t know what you’ll take?”

 

“…”

 

“What is it you’re trying to sneak out with like a rat while nobody’s here?”

 

A metallic taste spread where I-hyeon had bitten the inside of his cheek. He looked steadily down at Seung-hyuk, then sighed.

 

“…My shoes and shirts. Since I’ve lost my job, thanks to someone.”

 

“Is that all?”

 

“Shall I take those internal documents you mentioned too, then?”

 

“You could try, if you fancy another scene like last week.”

 

Seung-hyuk slowly rolled the glass in his hand and smiled. Then he tipped his head back and closed his eyes. His prominent Adam’s apple drew I-hyeon’s gaze. The way he sprawled on the sofa, his disordered clothes, his lazy attitude, as though he were teasing a child, hardened I-hyeon’s expression. He had no desire to argue with him when opening time was so close. He looked away first. The man beside him was still gripping his arm. I-hyeon jerked his wrist free.

 

“If you’ve nothing else to say, I’ll be going. Enjoy yourselves.”

 

What happened to the club was no longer his concern. He wanted to collect his things and leave as quickly as possible. Giving a curt, crooked nod, he turned to go.

 

Seung-hyuk lifted one leg and blocked his path.

 

“You’ve come all this way. Have a drink before you go.”

 

What would happen if I simply stepped over it?

 

He wanted to ignore the drunken nonsense, but Seung-hyuk’s men surrounded him. I-hyeon looked down at his thick thigh and bit the inside of his cheek.

 

“I’m not interested.”

 

“You should be.”

 

The long leg returned to the floor. Seung-hyuk leaned forwards, resting his arms on his knees. He put the whisky glass on the table, reached into his jacket and held something out.

 

“I asked whether that was everything you’d come to collect.”

 

The wallet in his hand was familiar. I-hyeon had assumed it would be shoved in some corner of the manager’s office. Seeing it in Seung-hyuk’s hand brought last week’s events flooding back.

 

“I was bored. Good timing. Sit down and have some pizza.”

 

“I said I’m not interested.”

 

“Let’s not make me repeat myself, I-hyeon.”

 

Hearing his name so suddenly made him frown.

 

“Sit.”

 

Watching Seung-hyuk’s expression, the men shifted to make room. A hand pressed down on I-hyeon’s shoulder from behind, forcing him into the seat. An empty glass appeared in front of him and was filled with soju.

 

As the surrounding men exchanged glances, I-hyeon kept his eyes on the glass.

 

“Carry on, boys.”

 

“…”

 

“He told you to enjoy yourselves.”

 

The clicking of Seung-hyuk’s lighter broke the awkward silence.

 

“We’ve got a guest. Raise a glass.”

 

At his words, the men began filling their drinks.

 

Among the people exchanging uncertain looks and touching their glasses, only Seung-hyuk and I-hyeon remained still. I-hyeon stared at some point before him. Seung-hyuk exhaled smoke and watched him.

 

The stubborn way I-hyeon glared into empty space made him let out a breathy laugh. The men holding their glasses finally began drinking when Seung-hyuk jerked his chin and told them to.

 

After a drink or two, they gradually loosened up. Coarse swearing and laughter began rising around them.

 

“Hey, Kkangchi. Pass us another bottle of soju.”

 

“Come on, hyung. All this good booze, and you want soju?”

 

“You’re too young to know what’s good, you little prick. Soju goes better with this sort of food.”

 

Amid the rough conversation, I-hyeon sat quietly, looking at the glass in front of him. He could not understand why he had to remain here.

 

He clenched and released his fist, then began to rise. Someone asked Seung-hyuk a question.

 

“Boss, are you two close? Ha ha, I never imagined you’d have a gay friend.”

 

The drunkenly slurred sentence froze the atmosphere. The man beside the speaker immediately smacked the back of his head. The recipient frowned and rubbed it, apparently having no idea what he had done wrong.

 

Everyone except I-hyeon watched Seung-hyuk. He rolled his tongue inside his cheek, then suddenly gave a short, hollow laugh.

 

“Friends?”

 

“Me and him?”

 

I-hyeon clenched his pale hand.

 

Long ago, he had been the one to ruin their close relationship. So why did Seung-hyuk’s decisive rejection still make his heart sink?

 

The man who had spoken curled in on himself, expecting a glass or ashtray to fly at him. But all Seung-hyuk did was lift his whisky and wet his lips.

 

The others glanced around, then resumed their awkward laughter.

 

“Right, enough stupid talk. Have another drink. There you go.”

 

“Hey, Deok-bae! Pass those snacks over here.”

 

Among the people raising their voices in an effort to revive the mood, I-hyeon alone sat with a doll-like blankness. Something abruptly entered his lowered field of vision. Seung-hyuk had dragged the pizza box towards him with one careless finger.

 

“Hey. Apparently, they think we look like friends.”

 

“Have a slice, my friend.”

 

He chuckled as though amused by his own words. I-hyeon kept his lips firmly closed. Watching him, Seung-hyuk’s smile slowly disappeared. He nodded towards the box.

 

“What are you doing? I told you to eat.”

 

Ever since working part-time at a pizza shop around the age of twenty, I-hyeon had refused to touch the stuff. He had no intention of explaining that to Seung-hyuk. The smell of cheese turned his stomach. He bit his lower lip, then answered quietly.

 

“If I eat it, can I go?”

 

“We’ll see.”

 

“…”

 

“Eat first.”

 

Swallowing a sigh, I-hyeon picked up a slice. The moment he bit into it, the greasiness of the cheese flooded his mouth. He thought he might gag. But Seung-hyuk was watching closely beside him, and he did not want to show it. He barely chewed before swallowing.

 

Every bite felt as though he were eating rubbish. He clenched his molars to suppress the acid rising in his throat. Whether Seung-hyuk noticed or not, he merely smiled and leaned back against the sofa.

 

When he lowered his eyes to his glass again, the men began taking an interest in I-hyeon.

 

One glanced around before asking:

 

“So, how old were you when you became gay? Is it like, one day you’re doing this and that with women, then the next morning you suddenly turn?”

 

“Ha ha! You mad bastard, why are you asking that? Ever seen a gay bastard doing that with women? He must’ve been born that way!”

 

The drunken men grabbed each other’s collars and tumbled over, but everyone merely laughed.

 

Gu Seung-hyuk chuckled too, flicking his lighter open and shut. I-hyeon alone remained expressionless.

 

Even at the openly mocking conversation, he did not clench his fists or grit his teeth. He simply sat still.

 

“Fuck, then when his mum took him to get circumcised, did he get a hard-on from the male doctor touching him? Ha! That doctor must’ve felt fucking awful.”

 

“Why the fuck are you asking that? Interested, are you? Careful, you’ll catch it. You’ll turn gay and end up getting fucked up the arse!”

 

“You filthy fucking bastard!”

 

I-hyeon let out a long sigh. There was neither a reason nor a need to remain. He stood and reached for the wallet on the table. Seung-hyuk snatched it first.

 

Tossing it lightly in one hand, he opened it and inspected the contents. After rummaging carelessly, he found something and laughed.

 

Between his long, straight fingers was a flat, individually wrapped condom.

 

“You use these even when you’re doing it with another bloke?”

 

“It’s not as though you can get pregnant. Why bother?”

 

Muttering as though to himself, Seung-hyuk dropped the unopened packet onto the table. The men were briefly surprised, then started sniggering and talking over one another.

 

“Boss, it’s to avoid diseases. You didn’t know? Apparently, gays use condoms more because they’re worried about catching something! I heard they wear two at once while they fuck each other. Is that true?”

 

If humiliating him had been the purpose of making him sit here, they had succeeded. I-hyeon clenched his teeth against the rising shame.

 

Without speaking, he tried to take the wallet from Seung-hyuk’s hand, but the long arm moved out of reach.

 

“Why are you carrying this worn-out thing around? Don’t the bastards you see buy you anything?”

 

“…”

 

“I’ll give you the money. Throw it away and get a new one.”

 

As Seung-hyuk searched his trouser pocket, his drunken body swayed far enough that someone had to steady him. He patted himself in search of his own wallet and frowned.

 

Watching him, I-hyeon gritted his teeth and stood.

 

“Must be nice, spending money you earned by beating people without a shred of shame.”

 

Seung-hyuk’s hands stopped. His arms fell onto his knees. He gave a short, disbelieving laugh, rubbed his face and looked up.

 

“And the money you make selling your arse is clean, is it?”

 

“…”

 

“You don’t look as though you can afford to be fussy about clean money and dirty money. Yet you keep acting so refined. It makes me curious.”

 

“…”

 

“How much are you hoping to make out of that body?”

 

With a breathy laugh, he found a fifty-thousand-won note loose in his jacket and held it towards I-hyeon.

 

“Fifty thousand does it, right?”

 

“…”

 

“Sell it to me once. I couldn’t do it myself, but I could probably find someone suitable.”

 

I-hyeon’s face hardened as he looked at the note. At that moment, he became certain that nothing remained of the Gu Seung-hyuk he remembered.

 

The person sitting here was someone else. Of course he was. I-hyeon had changed so much himself. Why would Seung-hyuk have stayed the same?

 

He stood looking down at him. Then, meeting Seung-hyuk’s faintly amused gaze, he spoke coldly.

 

“Gu Seung-hyuk. You’ve changed.”

 

“…”

 

“You’ve become a real piece of shit.”

 

The mocking curve of Seung-hyuk’s mouth flattened instantly. Something flashed in his languid eyes before his lids closed over it. He slowly rubbed his eyebrow and let out a breathy laugh. After a brief silence, his lips parted.

 

“That’s a vicious thing to say.”

 

He laughed to himself and slowly opened his eyes. Setting the wallet down before I-hyeon with a sharp tap, he spoke.

 

“Here. Take it.”

 

“…”

 

“And let’s try not to see each other again, I-hyeon.”

 

An empty laugh.

 

Then a low voice.

 

“It’s not fun any more.”

 

Gu Seung-hyuk had been the one inventing excuses to torment him. And now he wanted them never to meet again? Who did he think he was talking to? I-hyeon looked at the wallet, then picked it up.

 

Seung-hyuk had sunk into the sofa as though genuinely bored. I-hyeon took one last look at him, eyes closed, glass moving in his hand, then turned away.

 

He passed the drinking men and hurried up the stairs. He was glad he would no longer have to become entangled with Gu Seung-hyuk. Yet he could not stop remembering how his face had hardened at those few words.

 

After saying so much worse himself, he had worn an expression that somehow made I-hyeon feel like the aggressor. Meanwhile, the pizza churned in his stomach.

 

His footsteps quickened. Once he reached a place with nobody around, he was almost running.

 

He flung open the toilet door, rushed to a cubicle and retched. Chunks of barely chewed pizza and food spilled out with stomach acid.

 

“Fuck… This is why I don’t eat it…”

 

His reddened eyes stung. He flushed, stood and went to the sink. Looking into his wet eyes in the mirror, he wiped his mouth.

 

The cold water against his fingertips felt as sharp as a blade. There should have been nothing left inside him.

 

Yet his stomach still felt heavy, as though something remained lodged there.

 

〈BIG Fitness Club — Grand Opening Offer — First 30 Customers〉

 

The brightly coloured leaflet scraped across his chapped fingertips.

 

The passer-by who had barged into his arm continued down the station steps without apologising. The relentless wind had chilled his entire body long ago.

 

A faint sting cut through the numbness in his fingers. Looking down, he saw a red bead of blood slowly forming along the paper cut.

 

“…Ah.”

 

The quiet sound escaped belatedly. He pressed his lips together and wiped the blood away before it could stain the remaining leaflets.

 

Another crowd began emerging from the station. He held the papers out, but people passed with their hands buried in their pockets, avoiding his eyes.

 

“Ugh… I-hyeon. Let’s call it a day. It’s too bloody cold.”

 

A sudden weight against his back made him sway. He looked round to find a man in a long black padded coat zipped to the chin, leaning against him almost in an embrace. Shivering, the man pressed the hand warmers he had been shaking against I-hyeon’s ears.

 

“…Hyung, you said we had to give them all out today. There were still loads behind the desk earlier.”

 

“Ah, forget it. If we have to, we’ll give them to the food-stall owner down the road. He can use them to hold hotteok. Fuck, I can’t do any more. It’s freezing.”

 

The man grumbled that posting a single physique photograph on social media would be more effective anyway.

 

Reaching for I-hyeon’s leaflets, he noticed the long cut on his otherwise clean finger and widened his eyes.

 

“What’s this? You’re hurt?”

 

“Ah… Just a scratch.”

 

“Your hands are chapped too. I told you I’d give you gloves.”

 

Frowning faintly, he turned I-hyeon’s hand over and inspected it.

 

Embarrassed, I-hyeon tried to close his fist and pull away, but the man stroked the soft skin between his fingers and intertwined their hands.

 

“Look how red they are from the cold.”

 

The sight of I-hyeon standing quietly with his thick-lashed eyes lowered made the man smile in satisfaction. Then he moved a hand towards I-hyeon’s ear, reddened by the cold.

 

I-hyeon flinched at the tickling brush against the fine hairs. The man’s smile deepened. He already knew that was one of I-hyeon’s sensitive spots.

 

“Hey, I-hyeon. It’s cold. Want to come back to my studio flat for an afternoon drink? You said you’re not working evenings any more.”

 

A heavy hand closed around his shoulder with the suggestive words. I-hyeon briefly looked up at him, then lowered his gaze and pressed lightly against the cut on his finger.

 

It did not bleed, but a sharp pain rose beneath the skin. Should I go?

 

Over the past few days, he had sent Su-bin several more messages. No reply had come. Once he realised Su-bin was avoiding him, he stopped. He had thought they should distance themselves, but once the person he regularly spoke to disappeared, he could not help feeling lonely.

 

He did not particularly want a drink. He simply did not want to return to an empty home. That was why he had agreed to help hand out leaflets and kept going whenever people called him.

 

After several years of the club’s noisy nights, his empty home in the early hours felt unbearably quiet.

 

Bzz.

 

Just as he was about to ask how far away the flat was, his pocket vibrated.nA message appeared on his phone.

 

[Kwon I-hyeon, you said you’d quit the club, right? What are you doing? If you’re free, come out for a bit. I’m in your neighbourhood for work, and I should be finished soon.]

 

Seeing Yeo Eun-ho’s name, he let out a faint laugh. Still doing whatever he pleased. Exactly the same as in secondary school.

 

After a moment’s thought, I-hyeon spoke to the man.

 

“Sorry, hyung. I’m meeting someone today.”

 

“Yeah? Who? If I know them, tell them to join us. Drinks are on me.”

 

“A friend from school. He’s nearby. Let’s have that drink another time.”

 

The man looked at him regretfully before finally agreeing. Instead of saying more, I-hyeon handed him the leaflets.

 

Have fun. Get home safely. Keep in touch. He answered the usual parting words with only a faint smile.

 

After they separated, he went into a café near home and chose a corner table, leaving the part-timer’s perfunctory greeting behind him.

 

A large plant with drooping leaves half concealed the seat.nCold seeped from the tall glass wall immediately beside it. He had arrived early.

 

After several minutes watching people pass outside, the pager in his hand buzzed loudly. He collected a tray holding a hot Americano, then picked up the receipt instead of the cup.

 

For a long while, he turned the thin paper between his fingers and thought.nPerhaps losing the club job was actually a good thing. It would have been difficult to put his reversed sleep schedule right once the already hectic university term began.

 

Money was the problem. But if he thought it through, he could probably cover the shortfall in living costs and materials with part-time work during term.

 

Balancing it with assignments would be physically demanding. That was all right. The thought of returning to university after so long made him feel capable of anything.

 

He folded the receipt into a little square and set it on the tray.

 

Outside, the sky was unusually clear and blue, without a trace of haze.nFor the first time in a while, his normally colourless mood seemed to lift.

 

I should tell Eun-ho I’m going back. He’ll be pleased.

 

Eun-ho had tried several times to persuade him to accept a loan for his tuition and simply finish his degree. I-hyeon had refused, unable to bring himself to ask even a friend for money.nBut it clearly still bothered Eun-ho. Whenever they drank together, he sometimes raised it again.

 

Tap, tap, tap.

 

I-hyeon tapped his nails against the mug and looked outside. Then the phone on the table vibrated noisily. He frowned faintly and glanced down.

 

The name in the middle of the screen stopped him.

 

[Mum]

 

The phone continued rattling against the tray. Someone at a distant table looked around for the source of the noise, but I-hyeon could not move.

 

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

 

It would not stop.

 

As he stared at the bright screen, the good mood of only moments earlier felt like a dream. His upper stomach tightened. It was as though someone had gripped his chest and cut off his breath.

 

[Mum]

 

Looking at the name, he began biting the inside of his cheek.

 

Mum.

 

A word even a child learning to speak could say so easily.nHow could it make him this uncomfortable?

 

While he watched, the call ended and his wallpaper returned. But before he could release the breath caught in his chest, another incoming call appeared.

 

He could not pretend not to notice any longer.

 

Wetting his lips, he answered.

 

“…Hello.”

 

His own hoarse voice sounded unfamiliar. Apparently hers did too. After a long pause, she cleared her throat and finally spoke.

 

“Oh… I-hyeon. It’s Mum.”

 

“Yes.”

 

An awkward silence travelled down the line. She hesitated before managing an ordinary greeting.

 

“It’s cold. Have you been eating properly?”

 

Rather than answering, I-hyeon blinked slowly. Perhaps it was because he had not heard it in years, but her characteristically gentle voice sounded particularly strange through the phone.

 

Picking up the folded receipt again, he answered so quietly it was almost inaudible.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good… That’s good.”

 

He waited for more. She fell silent again. Awkwardness lay beneath the sound of their breathing. She could hardly have called merely to ask whether he was eating.

 

Swallowing, I-hyeon finally spoke first.

 

“What is it?”

 

“…I-hyeon.”

 

She sighed as though she had been waiting for him to ask. She seemed to be weighing something up. He did not press her. He merely handled the receipt.

 

Its rustling sounded unusually loud.

 

“Your father told me not to say anything, but I thought you should know…”

 

“I-hyeon. Your father’s in hospital.”

 

“…”

 

“They say he has liver cancer.”

 

His fingers stopped. The silence between them grew heavy. For a moment, he froze, not knowing what to say. Then his lips moved.

 

“…Since when?”

 

“About a month.”

 

“…”

 

The last image he had of his father was a furious man shouting at him. Agitated. Aggressive. Brimming with strength. That man had cancer? It did not seem possible.

 

“…What about treatment?”

 

“They say the chances of curing it aren’t low, but it’s in a difficult place… Ah…”

 

She began quietly sobbing. I-hyeon, who had briefly frozen at the unexpected news, collected himself and started moving his hands again. Running his tongue along the inside of his cheek, he unfolded the tightly creased receipt.

 

“God must love your father very much. That must be why he wants to take him so soon…”

 

I-hyeon listened to his mother’s tearful words with an expressionless face. He wondered whether any other son could hear of his father’s illness so calmly. It was not that he could not understand what she must have felt, calling after so many years. He simply did not know how to react.

 

What was he supposed to feel? What was he supposed to say?

 

As he listened, he ran a fingertip over the receipt, its edges worn from repeated folding and unfolding. Her voice shifted between tears and worry, then at some point grew quiet. Only belatedly noticing the heavy silence, he opened his mouth to answer. She spoke first.

 

“So… I-hyeon. I know this isn’t an easy thing for Mum to ask, but… Have you put any money aside?”

 

His parted lips opened a little farther, then pressed firmly shut. He looked down at the now-ragged receipt and blinked.

 

“Your sister’s getting married soon. All this happened while she was preparing, so we haven’t even been able to help her. I already feel bad towards our future son-in-law. I can’t ask them…”

 

“…”

 

“Seo-hyeon told me you’ve been doing various jobs. It wouldn’t be for long. In about a year, we should be able to sort out your father’s frozen account…”

 

A small, breathy laugh escaped through his thin red lips. He had suspected there must be another reason for her first call in seven years. Hearing it directly still left a bitter taste.

 

He could vividly remember his father shouting that he had no such son. That he was a devil possessed by Satan. He remembered his white school shirt turning red beneath the wine thrown at him. The evening light entering the room and scattering off the cross on the wall. The silent people looked away with disgust. Every memory was as clear as though it had happened yesterday.

 

“I-hyeon. Are you listening?”

 

At the cautious voice, he set down the scrap of paper clenched in his hand. It looked more like rubbish than a receipt now. He stared at it, then forced aside the words lodged somewhere between his throat and the pit of his stomach.

 

“…Yes. I’m listening.”

 

“You should start putting all this behind you and come home. How long are you going to stay out there living like that, hmm? Your father hasn’t said anything, but I’m sure he’s waiting for you.”

 

His father had exposed his sexuality in front of the congregation under the guise of confessing sin. Now that he was a senior pastor, I-hyeon knew better than anyone that he would not welcome him back. But instead of reminding his fragile mother of that, he lowered his eyes and closed his mouth quietly. His dense black lashes cast faint shadows.

 

“I-hyeon, I told you then—”

 

The bell above the café door rang brightly through her continuing words. He looked up. Someone with light-coloured hair was entering. Yeo Eun-ho. It felt as though they had not seen each other in months. Eun-ho looked around, spotted him and briefly raised a hand.

 

Watching his friend head straight to the counter and look up at the menu, I-hyeon finally opened his mouth.

 

“If you meet a nice woman and start dating—”

 

“I’m sorry, but I need to go.”

 

“Oh… Do you?”

 

“I’ll think about what you said and get back to you.”

 

He hesitated, eyes lowered, then added: “…It’s a lot of money for me too.”

 

He repeated the amount she had mentioned in his head. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she sighed quietly.

 

“All right… Do that.”

 

There seemed to be a trace of reproach in her response, but I-hyeon ignored it and began clearing the table. He scrunched the receipt into a tissue and moved the tray aside. By then, Eun-ho had collected his drink and was sitting opposite. I-hyeon forced his lips to move towards the silence on the phone.

 

“…Please tell Father to take care of himself.”

 

“All right. It’s cold, so make sure you eat properly too.”

 

“…Yes.”

 

The call ended without another reply. I-hyeon looked at the screen, then lowered his phone. Across the table, Eun-ho was sucking on the straw of an iced latte, his sharp-looking eyes rounded.

 

“What? Was that your mum?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Wow. What on earth made her call?”

 

Instead of answering, I-hyeon wrapped both hands around his now-cold mug. Looking at the thin sheen of oil on the black coffee, he mentally calculated the money in his account and his living costs for the coming term. There was no way to make it work.

 

“Just… She needed a favour concerning my father.”

 

“Your father? That business where he got reported for spending the church donations and received a suspended sentence? Don’t tell me she asked whether you knew any lawyers.”

 

Unlike I-hyeon’s quiet response, Eun-ho reacted as though it had happened to him. I-hyeon shook his head. Eun-ho narrowed his eyes and began tapping his phone.

 

“For fuck’s sake. They were ready to strike a kid who wasn’t even twenty from the family register because he was supposedly possessed, and now they come looking for you? Where’d they leave their conscience? At some bloody temple?”

 

“…I don’t know.”

 

“Whatever your mum said, ignore it. Actually, just think of them as strangers. Honestly. They wouldn’t even answer your calls while you were struggling after graduation. And now this?”

 

Even if he combined all the money in his accounts, he could not reach the amount his mother wanted. To grant her request, he would have to look into a bank loan, never mind returning to university next term. It almost made him laugh. The sudden news had emptied his head. As he tried to work out what to do, his gaze kept drifting towards the logo on Eun-ho’s clothes, and the car key casually dropped on the table. Without thinking, he spoke to Eun-ho, who was muttering at his phone through narrowed eyes.

 

“Yeo Eun-ho. Could you…”

 

“Hm?”

 

“…Never mind.”

 

“What? Why stop halfway?”

 

Eun-ho looked up from his busy fingers and met his eyes. I-hyeon pressed his lips together and shook his head. They had known each other for more than nine years, since secondary school. He did not want to say anything that would make him worry.

 

“It’s nothing. Carry on.”

 

“What was that about…? Honestly. And this bastard said he had an important meeting. Why does he keep texting me?”

 

Eun-ho glanced at I-hyeon, frowned and returned to his phone. I-hyeon looked away and turned towards the window. Sinking back into the chair made the winter sky seem higher.

 

He had lived as though he had no family. Yet at a moment like this, he could not decisively turn them away. It was ridiculous.

 

He had not even answered his mother, and already he was trying to think of places to find the money. Something close to disgust rose towards himself. Why could he not simply reject them?

 

Family. What the hell was so special about that?

 

The clear winter sky felt cruel today. I-hyeon touched a finger to the spotless glass. A pale mark spread beneath it. Like white mould.

 

Was it going to rain? The sky beyond the window was overcast. The joint where his finger met his palm ached. I-hyeon repeatedly closed and opened his left hand.

 

“I-hyeon, I’m so sorry… Our sales have dropped a lot this year. I don’t think we can manage an advance…”

 

Behind the counter bearing a large, faded Mujin Sundaeguk sticker, the owner looked apologetic. He had expected it would be difficult, so the disappointment was not great. He pressed his lips together and nodded. She only looked sorrier.

 

“I’ll try to pay this month’s wages a little early. You’ve never asked for anything like this before, so I feel bad. Has something happened?”

 

I-hyeon gave a faint smile and shook his head. His coat was buttoned to the top and his scarf tucked in. He was almost ready to leave.

 

“No, it’s all right. I only asked on the off chance. Please don’t worry.”

 

“Still… If we were doing as well as the year before last, it wouldn’t be a problem. But you know how things have been lately… If there’s anything else we can help with, tell us. Oh, have you finished the side dishes I gave you last time? Shall I pack some of the new ones?”

 

He stopped her from hurrying into the kitchen and left the restaurant. The bell jingled. The moment the door shut behind him, cold wind slipped beneath his collar. He walked quickly in case she came out after him, but he had nowhere in particular to go.

 

After trudging aimlessly for a while, he sat on a nearby bench. The cold struck a moment later, making him shiver. He took out his phone and brought up his mother’s number.

 

Tell her you’re sorry, but you don’t have that kind of money. Tell her you can’t help.

 

He had resolved to do it when leaving the restaurant. Yet his finger would not move towards the call button.

 

As he stared blankly at the phone, something landed on the bridge of his nose. He looked up. Snowflakes drifted gently through the air.

 

Wiping the moisture from his nose, he cautiously held out his palm. The plump flakes seemed to avoid it at first. Then one landed in the middle. The clustered crystals melted clear the instant they touched his skin.

 

He watched the wool-white flake vanish without a trace. Then his eyes caught the long scar where his little finger met his palm.

 

So that was why it’s been aching since this morning. Snow.

 

He traced the slightly raised scar, fully healed now and numb to the touch. The melted snow spread transparently across it.

 

He had got the injury after leaving the military, when he had been unable to return straight to university and was working two or three part-time jobs to save his tuition. At the bar where he worked, he had tried to break up a fight and badly cut his hand.

 

A shard of glass had damaged a nerve. They told him he needed urgent surgery. He had not had the money.

 

While the part-timer who accompanied him stood close to tears, not knowing what to do, he had tried to think through the fog in his head. Over and over, he had asked himself what was right.

 

Should he suddenly call acquaintances who did not even know he had finished military service and ask to borrow money? He had left the army quietly, without telling anyone.

 

Should he call one of the lenders advertising twenty-four-hour loans on the street? The only family member he still spoke to, his sister, was abroad for an important commitment. Eun-ho was in the military.

 

Only one option remained. He had sat in a corner of A&E, gripping his bleeding arm. When his consciousness began to fade, he called his father. It had been exactly three years since he left home.

 

As the ringing repeated, his mouth dried until it felt scorched. Acid rose at the back of his throat. His breath caught. He kept seeing his father shouting that no devil would be allowed in his house. Expecting to hear something similar, he felt wretched and anxious.

 

Blood running down his fingers pooled on the floor beneath his lowered gaze. Just as he began worrying that it would leave dark stains on the white tiles, the call connected.

 

However thoroughly he had been disowned, he had assumed hearing that his son was in A&E would move his father. He was not even asking him to pay for the operation. Only to lend him enough to get through an emergency. Surely that was a favour even an acquaintance might grant, let alone a blood relative.

 

But there had only been silence. Holding the unresponsive phone, he haltingly explained what had happened at the bar, where he was and what situation he was in. It had made no difference.

 

He still remembered the warmth of blood slowly running over the back of his hand. He remembered stammering that, if his father helped him just this once, he would never contact him again. After the call ended, he had sat blankly for a long time. Just as he was sitting now.

 

These were the people who had coldly rejected him when he needed help. He could not give a single reason why he should lend them money now. He even felt wronged. If they had any shame, should they not have refrained from asking him at all?

 

His mother had attached a promise to repay him in six months, but helping her would still make it impossible to return to university immediately. He would have to close his savings account and borrow from someone else. However he looked at it, it was not sensible.

 

And yet, instead of calling his mother, I-hyeon opened his map app and searched for a nearby bank. He checked that his identity card was in his wallet, then stood.

 

There was only one reason. He wanted to prove something to them.

 

That he had grown up perfectly well on his own. That he had become someone capable of helping them at a time like this. So perhaps a man liking another man… was not as terrible as they thought.

 

Someone might ask whether he was really giving up his return to university for that. But to I-hyeon, it mattered more than going back immediately.

 

Attending his graduation alone. Fighting his way into university. Completing military service and working afterwards. He had done it all because he needed, somehow, to prove his own existence. The people closest to him had denied it. At least he had to affirm it himself.

 

And beyond that, he wanted his father to regret what he had done. He wanted him to feel shame and remorse at the knowledge that the son he had so despised was paying to keep him alive. If, in the process, his father showed any regret for his behaviour—if he said he was sorry—I-hyeon was willing to try putting the past aside and rebuilding their relationship.

 

He closed his eyes and slowly inhaled. The painfully cold air seemed to sweep through the inside of his chest. As he steadied his breathing, his slightly quickened heartbeat settled.

 

Find the money somehow.

 

His brief deliberation was over. He could almost hear the snow softly settling on his hair and shoulders. Leaving the bench, he headed straight to the nearby bank.

 

But when he asked about a loan, the bank employee gave an awkward smile.

 

“I’m sorry, sir, but your credit rating is too low for this loan product. Are you currently employed?”

 

“I was working somewhere, but I left recently…”

 

She concentrated on her computer, then shook her head regretfully. Swallowing a sigh, I-hyeon took back his identity card with a calm expression.

 

“Did you receive any severance pay when you left?”

 

“…Severance pay?”

 

“If you worked there for a few years, it could be a reasonable amount. That might cover part of what you need.”

 

Severance pay.

 

Murmuring the words, he bowed to the bank employee and left. He sat on a nearby bench and searched on his phone. Long explanations from labour consultants appeared.

 

[Anyone who has worked at least fifteen hours a week for one year or more is entitled to severance pay. For further details, contact the number below!]

 

According to the law, he should receive it. Unfortunately, the people involved did not live by the law. He bit his lip for a while, then abruptly stood.

 

Nothing to lose anyway.

 

Once he had made up his mind, there was nothing to hold him back. He caught a bus straight to Nexus. The staff looked surprised to see him, but he passed them and went directly to the manager’s office.

 

“…No, sir. Of course not. I’ll check again—”

 

He knocked and received no answer, so he opened the door. Manager Kim was on the phone. His face crumpled, and he hastily covered the microphone. I-hyeon approached.

 

“Pardon? Ah, no, sir. I’ll look into that further and contact—”

 

“I came to discuss severance pay.”

 

“What? No, Director, I wasn’t speaking to you… Something urgent’s just come up. I’ll call again a little—”

 

“I worked here for three years without causing trouble. I think I should receive at least that.”

 

Still holding the phone to his ear, Manager Kim stared in horror and mouthed something silently. Either Are you mad? or You mad bastard.

 

“No, sir. I can handle it myself… Ah, well, yes… That’s right…”

 

After bowing into empty space, he slowly straightened, glancing sideways at I-hyeon. A moment ago, he had been desperate to end the call. Now he was listening carefully. I-hyeon spoke again.

 

“If severance pay isn’t possible—”

 

“Yes, yes. I’ll do that immediately. Yes, take ca—Ah, fuck…”

 

“Then perhaps some kind of compensation—”

 

“For fuck’s sake. Everyone just says whatever the fuck they want. Both of you. Whatever you want, fuck!”

 

Just as I-hyeon tried again, the manager ended the call and glared at him. I-hyeon pressed his lips inwards and met his eyes.

 

“Couldn’t you see I was on the fucking phone? You’re lucky Director Gu was in a good mood. Otherwise, both our heads would’ve rolled!”

 

At the sudden mention of Gu Seung-hyuk, I-hyeon paused. Had he known who was on the other end, he would have waited. It was not especially important, but the possibility that Seung-hyuk had heard his voice unsettled him.

 

“Fuck. That nearly went to shit. As though I’m not scared enough already.”

 

Looking between I-hyeon and his phone, the manager jerked his chin towards the sofa. I-hyeon ignored the invitation to sit and moved closer to the desk. The man rolled his eyes and sighed.

 

“Go on, then. Say it. Fuck. What do you want? Severance? Compensation?”

 

“…As far as I know, you’re legally required to pay it if someone has worked for more than a year.”

 

The manager looked as though he had never heard anything so absurd. But instead of refusing, he glanced down at his phone and clicked his tongue.

 

“That’s not for me to decide. Go and ask him yourself.”

 

“…Who?”

 

“Who do you think? Director Gu Seung-hyuk.”

 

Saying the name made Manager Kim frown again.

 

“You think I’m the one paying you? It all comes out of Taeseong’s back pocket. These days, I suppose it comes out of Director Gu’s.”

 

He put both feet on the desk and leaned back in his chair. Waving the phone in one hand, he looked I-hyeon up and down with obvious displeasure.

 

“What exactly is going on between you and the director? He wants you at headquarters now.”

 

“…Headquarters?”

 

I-hyeon could not work out what Seung-hyuk intended. He had been the one to say they should never see each other again. Was he calling him over to humiliate him once more?

 

“That man doesn’t waste time on some lowly club employee. Who are you to go there and see him in person? The lads say you seem to know each other. Is that true?”

 

Manager Kim kept firing questions at him, one eyebrow raised, but I-hyeon barely heard. He swallowed a sigh, bowed, clenched his fists and turned away.

 

“Hey! Stop there, you little shit. I’m talking to you!”

 

Footsteps hurried after him. A hand landed on his shoulder. I-hyeon’s eyes hardened. He shook it off in one movement.

 

“Don’t touch me. I don’t work here any more.”

 

“What? You insolent little—”

 

“Thank you for everything. Take care.”

 

His voice was dry as he opened the door and left. The employees peering round the corner farther down the corridor startled and scattered. He passed the staff pretending to be busy and avoiding his gaze, then climbed the stairs.

 

Already, he wanted to sigh at the thought of whatever Gu Seung-hyuk would say or do when he had him standing there again. But for now, he had no other choice. He could only hope this would be the last time That he would not become involved with him any further.

 

The first thing he saw on leaving the station was a row of soaring buildings. With so many offices in the area, there seemed to be more cars than pedestrians. Following the address he had found online, he walked for about ten minutes before coming upon a large stone bearing the name Taeseong. It looked rather crude in front of the modern blue-glass building.

 

Apparently, the owners did not think so. I-hyeon tipped his head back to look at the upper floors stretching towards the sky. Then he lowered it, let out a small breath and pushed through the revolving door.

 

The scene inside was surprisingly ordinary. He had expected rows of gangsters in black suits, tattoos showing on their necks and hands, just as at the club. Instead, the interior was larger and cleaner than he had imagined. Ordinary office workers occupied the lobby and café. Even so, he did not relax.

 

There was nothing to say a scene like the one he had witnessed in the club’s car park could not unfold here at any moment. With his hands in his padded jacket pockets, he surveyed the lobby warily. Then he felt someone watching him.

 

Turning, he saw a man looking towards him from the café some distance away. A black suit. His heart dropped. Gu Seung-hyuk?

 

He narrowed his eyes, but the face was too far away to make out clearly. The build seemed smaller, though. He did not know why the man was watching, but at least it did not seem to be Seung-hyuk.

 

Biting his lip, I-hyeon looked away first. At the reception desk, a neatly groomed employee raised her head. He spoke cautiously.

 

“I’m here to see Director Gu… Seung-hyuk.”

 

He had thought simply giving the name would be insufficient, so he added the title he had heard. It sounded awkward. Apparently, she thought so too. A subtle expression crossed her face at the name. She searched something on her computer, then looked puzzled.

 

“Do you have an appointment?”

 

“Not exactly…”

 

He had only been ordered to come. Not even directly, but through Manager Kim’s phone.

 

“I’m sorry, but you won’t be able to see the director without a prior appointment.”

 

“Ah…”

 

His mistake had been coming straight here without questioning the instruction. He had not expected such a large, respectable building. He had assumed he would be able to see Seung-hyuk as soon as he arrived.

 

Had Gu Seung-hyuk called him here for this? To make him experience first-hand what sort of man he was?

 

I-hyeon pressed his lower lip and dropped his gaze. His pride was not wounded. But if he had known, he would have stayed with Manager Kim and kept pressing him for the money instead.

 

He could not decide whether to feel relieved that he would not have to see Seung-hyuk or dismayed that he had come for nothing. One thing was certain. There was no reason to stay. He bowed to the receptionist. Just as he turned away, a voice intervened beside him.

 

“Just send him up.”

 

I-hyeon turned sharply and instinctively stepped away. A tall man in a black suit. He immediately recognised him as the man who had been watching from the café.

 

I-hyeon looked up warily. It was him. The man who had come to see Gu Seung-hyuk in the storeroom behind the club office.

 

“Good afternoon, Executive Director.”

 

The reception staff bowed together. Several employees passing by also bent deeply when they recognised him. As before, I-hyeon alone remained upright. The man gave him a faint smile.

 

“We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

 

“…”

 

“At Nexus.”

 

The storeroom returned to him: the sickening smell of blood and the menace radiating from the men standing with their hands behind their backs. This man had looked down at him and said something, but the memory was unclear. What he did remember was that the man had ended the situation.

 

Without him, I-hyeon would have had to kiss Yoon Su-bin like a performing clown in front of all those people. He still knew he should remain cautious. Even so, his expression softened slightly. Noticing, the man smiled faintly and addressed the reception staff.

 

“Director Gu must have forgotten to let you know. Put him down as my guest and let him through.”

 

“Yes, Executive Director. Of course.”

 

A few words settled everything. The employee who had firmly refused him now accepted his identity card with both hands and began making the necessary checks.

 

I-hyeon glanced up. The man was watching the staff with an expressionless face. Should he at least thank him?

 

Perhaps sensing the repeated glances, the man turned and met his eyes, then lifted the corners of his mouth again. Something about the friendly smile and small nod felt… wrong. Surely it was only his imagination. Once again, I-hyeon looked away first.

 

“Please take this visitor’s pass and go to the eleventh floor.”

 

As I-hyeon accepted the lanyard, the man moved ahead. At the security gates, people parted as though Moses were dividing the Red Sea.

 

Remembering how he had behaved towards Gu Seung-hyuk, I-hyeon assumed his position was similar to or higher than Gu Seung-hyuk's. The reaction was hardly surprising. Someone held a lift for them.

 

Once inside, I-hyeon could see the street outside. Three sides were glass, leaving only the wall with the doors solid. The man tapped his card and pressed eleven, then twenty-five. The city gradually fell away beneath them.

 

They were merely standing beside one another in the same space, yet I-hyeon could not help but be aware of him. The image of him removing his wristwatch in front of Seung-hyuk kept returning.

 

The dim storeroom after everyone left. Seung-hyuk’s face, ruined as though someone had beaten him.

 

With his eyes lowered, I-hyeon looked near the man’s feet. His black shoes gleamed without a speck of dust.

 

“Do you like men?”

 

The sudden question made I-hyeon look up. At some point, the man had turned towards him.

 

Only belatedly grasping the question, I-hyeon ran his tongue over his lips. He must have asked because of what he had seen in the storeroom.

 

“…”

 

I-hyeon looked at the indifferent eyes behind the glasses, then turned towards the display beside the lift doors.

 

Six. Seven. Eight. The eleventh floor was close.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

He did not answer that either. He simply moved towards the doors. A chime sounded.

 

“Eleventh floor.”

 

The doors opened with the announcement. I-hyeon gave the man a small bow. A faint snort sounded above him, but he spoke calmly and stepped forward.

 

“I’ll get off here. Thank you for your help.”

 

He could feel the gaze on his back as he left, but did not turn. There was something strangely chilling about that man. Leaving the lift lobby, I-hyeon stopped in the corridor with his back against the wall.

 

The man’s face, as he asked for his name, kept circling through his head. But he was not the person I-hyeon needed to worry about now. At the far end of the corridor was a sign reading Director’s Office.

 

Standing alone in the empty passage—it did not seem to be a floor where ordinary employees worked—the reality finally struck him. He had come to see Gu Seung-hyuk of his own accord. And Seung-hyuk would be inside.

 

He had done nothing wrong. There was no reason to feel intimidated. Yet his throat was strangely dry.

 

He went into the toilets and splashed cold water on his face. Dabbing the drops running down his jaw with a stiff paper towel, he met his own eyes in the mirror and bit his lip.

 

He had come this far. There was no turning back.

 

Throwing away the towel, he left and slowly walked along the corridor. Low lighting spilt down the walls. By the time he reached the door marked Director’s Office, his heart was beating fast.

 

He took a breath, lifted his hand and knocked.

 

Knock, knock, knock.

 

There was no invitation to enter. He knocked again. Still nothing.

 

Wondering whether Seung-hyuk had gone out, he placed his hand on the handle. Contrary to his expectation, it turned smoothly. The door opened a crack. He pushed slowly.

 

The first thing he saw was an austere room with barely any sign of human occupancy. The bookcase along one wall stood empty. Apart from a low table and sofa, there was little furniture. It looked like an abandoned office nobody used.

 

“What are you doing? You’ve opened it. Come in.”

 

I-hyeon turned towards the voice as though drawn by it. Gu Seung-hyuk sat in the chair behind the desk at the centre of the room, his back to the window. The moment I-hyeon saw him silhouetted against the light, his tangled thoughts seemed to bleach white. Seung-hyuk spoke to him as he stood blankly in the doorway.

 

“Come and sit.”

 

I-hyeon wet his lips and slowly approached the sofa Seung-hyuk indicated with his chin. He sat quietly.

 

Seung-hyuk did not react. He did not come over and sit opposite. He merely remained at his desk, legs crossed on top of it, playing on his phone. Cheerful electronic sound effects rang through the otherwise silent room.

 

Staring at the edge of the table, I-hyeon clenched his fists. He could not decide what to say or where to begin. After worrying at his dry lips, he spoke quietly.

 

“…Why did you call me?”

 

“You said we shouldn’t see each other again.”

 

Only after saying it did he realise how reproachful it sounded. Seung-hyuk must have heard it too, because he gave a breathy laugh.

 

“Well. You sounded rather desperate.”

 

“What did you say you’d come for?”

 

“…Severance pay.”

 

“Severance pay?”

 

“As far as I know, you’re entitled to it if you’ve worked somewhere for more than a year.”

 

His lowered gaze remained calm. Seung-hyuk glanced up at him, moved his fingers across the phone and gave a short laugh.

 

“Really? How much do you want?”

 

“…About thirty million.”

 

“Thirty million.”

 

“That’s quite a lot to put in someone’s hand on their way out, isn’t it?”

 

His tone suggested he knew I-hyeon had simply named the amount he needed, without even knowing whether he could claim severance or how much he might receive. I-hyeon had no answer to the mockery. In the awkward silence, only the jaunty sounds of the game made themselves heard. Then Seung-hyuk spoke.

 

“Fine. Have you got a contract?”

 

“…A contract?”

 

“You’ll need to prove you worked there for that long. How am I supposed to hand over that money on your word alone?”

 

Since starting three years earlier, I-hyeon had never signed anything like an employment contract. When he once asked about the four major social insurance schemes he had heard mentioned somewhere, the manager had asked why a club part-timer thought he could demand such things.

 

“You haven’t?”

 

“…There’s no contract, but the payments are on my bank statement.”

 

“How am I supposed to know whether that money came from our establishment or from you whoring yourself out somewhere?”

 

Seeing I-hyeon’s tightly clenched fists turn white, Seung-hyuk curved his eyes in amusement.

 

“What severance pay is there for a job you didn’t even sign a contract for?”

 

“Anyone would think you’d worked somewhere respectable, I-hyeon.”

 

He switched off the game and tapped his phone onto the desk. Then he stood. His shoes clicked as he moved around and perched on the edge of the desk, his back to the light.

 

A long shadow fell across the table before I-hyeon. The closer scent of his aftershave made I-hyeon stiffen.

 

“If you need money, stop making pathetic excuses and say it properly. Ask me to help.”

 

“…”

 

“Say you’re desperate enough to need money earned by beating people.”

 

His gaze remained fixed on I-hyeon’s profile. Watching him bite his lip and stare at the corner of the table, Seung-hyuk found himself clenching his teeth.

 

“Can’t do it? This is why, when I offered you a good opportunity downstairs—”

 

“Help me.”

 

I-hyeon slowly lifted his head. Looking up at Seung-hyuk without wavering, he spoke again.

 

“Lend me some money. You were the only person I could ask.”

 

The unexpected interruption left Seung-hyuk wrong-footed. He opened his mouth to answer, found nothing suitable to say and merely clenched his fist.

 

Hearing I-hyeon’s faint voice during the call with the manager and summoning him to headquarters had been half an impulse. He had not truly expected him to come. When the door opened and Kwon I-hyeon walked in, he had almost laughed in disbelief.

 

Normally, when Seung-hyuk said something to get under his skin, I-hyeon would calmly return two or three remarks of his own. He had wanted to see him bow his head. Yet now that it was actually happening, it did not feel particularly good.

 

And those words—

 

You were the only person I could ask.

 

Seung-hyuk gave a cold, mocking smile and straightened.

 

There must be men all around him. Is that how he goes about ensnaring them?

 

Looking down at I-hyeon with cold eyes, he ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. The clear, transparent face from his memories was gone. Only this pale, rigid face remained, as though I-hyeon were wearing a mask.

 

Clenching his molars, Seung-hyuk seemed to make a decision. He turned and went back behind the desk. There was the sound of writing. Then two sheets of paper appeared in front of I-hyeon.

 

At the top was the Loan Agreement. Below, it stated that Party B was borrowing thirty million won in principal from Party A. Watching I-hyeon slowly read, Seung-hyuk sat on the opposite sofa.

 

“Interest at the industry standard. One year to repay.”

 

“…”

 

“Too generous for lending to someone who’s got nothing but his body?”

 

I-hyeon kept his eyes on the paper without answering. Seung-hyuk lightly tapped the agreement.

 

“But there’s a condition.”

 

“Do a job with me.”

 

I-hyeon looked up. He could not tell what that meant.

 

“There’s someone I need you to charm. Get some information out of him.”

 

“…What?”

 

“I’ve got everything set up. I was just having trouble finding someone to make the move.”

 

I-hyeon looked at him, clearly waiting for more. Seung-hyuk merely raised an eyebrow and nodded in agreement. Apparently, he had no intention of explaining further until it was signed.

 

I-hyeon bit his lip and looked down. He could not simply agree without knowing whom he was supposed to approach, what information he needed or how he was meant to obtain it.

 

What if it was dangerous? What if it was illegal?

 

But Seung-hyuk clearly had no intention of saying more. And I-hyeon had no other option. He did not know what the job involved, but surely Seung-hyuk would not ask him to do something he was incapable of.

 

After a moment’s hesitation, he stared at the words thirty million won in the middle of the white page. Then he spoke.

 

“…I’m not selling my body.”

 

The only answer was a dismissive snort. I-hyeon wet his lips, then picked up the pen.

 

Borrower: Kwon I-hyeon.

 

His hand did not hesitate. After checking the agreement, Seung-hyuk called someone and instructed them to transfer the money. Throughout the call, I-hyeon sat looking at the paper before him. He was not sure how much time had passed.

 

Then his phone vibrated, and a notification appeared. The money had arrived.

 

While I-hyeon checked his account, Seung-hyuk put one copy of the agreement into an envelope and handed it over. He accepted it without speaking.

 

“I’ll send you a location. Come there next time.”

 

“…”

 

“And answer promptly when I call.”

 

I-hyeon ran his tongue over his lips and nodded. As he stood, he could not decide whether his steps felt heavy or light. He was heading for the door, leaving Gu Seung-hyuk behind, when a slightly husky voice reached his back.

 

“Ah. And I’m a bit late saying this.”

 

I-hyeon stopped with his hand on the door handle.

 

“It’s been a long time. Kwon I-hyeon.”

 

The low voice sounded so much like it had when they were young.

 

What expression Seung-hyuk wore behind him…