“That seems to be correct. Your answer. I ‘heard’ it well.”
Son Yowan furrowed his brow.
‘They tried to escape? Crazy.’
Come to think of it, the location was the ‘waterway’.
Manghyang, which took quite a long time to reach even after passing through the Central District downtown, had unusual terrain. The entrance was entirely a narrow mountain path continuing from the road, and all other sides had a castle-like structure surrounded by a moat.
And the current ‘waterway’ was the area where the moat began, so small boats and such were always tied there. In other words, with the entrance currently closed, it was the area with the greatest possibility of escape.
Son Yowan unconsciously looked at the place where the victim had been earlier.
‘It seems…’
The Assistant incident seemed to be a separate case from people gathering here trying to escape.
“…If that’s true, what are you going to do about it?”
The Teacher, who had been standing behind the Musician with arms crossed, stepped forward again as if anger surged when the flustered Musician was hesitating.
“Woah.”
Son Yowan unconsciously let out a strange exclamation.
He couldn’t help it. Originally they at least used honorifics, but suddenly using banmal and even words like ‘you bastard’ came out—how could he not be surprised?
“The problem is you detaining us in the first place, so whether we tried to get out of here or not, what fault is that?”
“Currently, a Soyo alert has been issued in this region, and you are suspects.”
“Impudent!”
Fortunately, the Teacher didn’t seem to hear what Son Yowan was saying. Perhaps he didn’t have the leisure to care about the likes of Son Yowan.
“When the master coddles you, the dog dares try to climb up to the top of a person’s head! Soyo alert? Suspect status? What use is that! When did I or the people here ever care about the law!”
It was an incredibly arrogant statement.
“So let us out right now. Then I’ll speak to your master and bestow the mercy of leaving at least your head attached to that body.”
However, the Teacher himself seemed to have no hesitation in speaking, as if actually convinced he was above the law.
“…”
In the strange atmosphere flowing among the VIP guests, even Son Yowan, who wasn’t involved, was watching carefully, but the Detective himself had an expression no different from usual, as if not feeling that changed atmosphere at all.
Not only was his expression like that, but he eventually let out several long sighs in installments ‘as usual’, then answered like this:
“That’s not possible…”
Even that answer was drenched in boredom and fatigue, exactly the same as usual.
“The reason, do I have to explain again?”
Even at that timing, a sigh was added.
“Since there are absolutely no changes to the situation or persons, the reasons your requests as petitioners were rejected are the same as before, but if you must hear them anyway…”
That attitude naturally greatly provoked the superiority complex of the Teacher and several people who agreed with him—that they were noble and therefore should naturally be treated differently from other people—and anger easily ignited on their scratched pride.
“This bastard, I was trying to speak nicely but you dare!”
The Musician, who burst out in anger, proved that his temper was the quickest among the VIP guests by grabbing the Detective’s collar.
“Oh my, oh my! If you do this, what will we do! With words! Let’s use words!”
The Director tried to stop them, but it was no use.
“You need to act according to who you’re dealing with, you lowly bastard. Huh?”
The Musician didn’t stop at grabbing the collar but outright grabbed the Detective’s throat. Though the Detective was taller, the Musician’s bulk was so huge that escaping from his grip looked generally difficult.
Perhaps the Musician was confident of that too, as the sneer on his face became fishy and cruel.
“Captain? How funny! This gentleman is a person, not some trashy ghost, so you’re not scary at all. Some bastard who’s probably never thrown a proper punch at a person…”
Seeing that sight, the Magician’s face turned pale as they muttered.
“Stop, we should stop them…”
Son Yowan’s mouth gaped open and closed.
‘Stop them?’
It was certainly a situation that warranted it. Because the Musician, unable to control his temper, was outright strangling the Detective’s throat.
On top of that…
“Kyaa!”
“A, a knife!”
Son Yowan swallowed his breath.
‘Does that big guy have protein in his head? He’s doing that kind of thing too?’
The Musician pulled out a weapon and held it to the head of the Detective, whose throat he was still crushing. The movement was so natural that Son Yowan thought the Musician he’d been calling ‘big hyungnim’ until now was definitely not a civilian.
“Want to die?”
“…”
“If you want to get stabbed, just nod your head. Whether it’s your throat or your back hole, I’ll personally stab it for you, you XXX. I laughed it off for the master’s sake, but where does a XXX worse than a dog’s dick…”
XXX. XXXX. XXXXXX…
At the endless parade of profanity flowing out, Son Yowan became dizzy. He’d prided himself on having some depth of knowledge about vulgar curses and rough profanity as someone also from the Peripheral District, but compared to that… ugh.
“Answer right now.”
The Musician demanded an answer from the Detective.
“Answer. And cancel the alert or whatever and open the entrance, you fucking bird. Fuck! What did you do that the door won’t open?”
Hearing his grumbling, Son Yowan realized they had already tried to escape toward the entrance and failed.
‘Mm.’
Only I didn’t know that?
Son Yowan became inwardly serious. He naturally knew he was an outsider among the VIP guests, but he didn’t know it would be to this extent.
It was troublesome. Though sticking by the Detective’s side and striving for life extension was Plan A, he absolutely had no intention of pulling back the one foot he had in the VIP line.
Seeing the structure between the Detective and the VIP guests unfolding before his eyes, his thoughts deepened further.
‘Seeing them come out to that extent, they seem to have caught some kind of serious weakness, but is it okay to keep riding the Detective route…’
However, Son Yowan suddenly snapped out of his reverie when the Musician shouted.
“You bastard, answer!”
Seeing the already menacing Musician hyungnim’s face distort like a demon mask, it seemed the Detective truly hadn’t given any response.
Son Yowan stole a glance at the Detective’s face and inwardly clicked his tongue.
‘Ugh, how big are his guts…’
But the Musician’s opinion was the complete opposite of Son Yowan’s. He laughed loudly, then slapped the Detective’s cheek with the blade-sharp knife.
“Too scared for your mouth to open? Hey, Director! Check this bastard’s lower half! See if he didn’t already piss himself!”
Son Yowan, who had been secretly observing the Detective and Musician alternately, had his mouth shape change to ‘Oh’ around that time. The Director, who somehow spotted it, asked in a voice only audible to him.
“What’s wrong, Yohan-gun?”
“No, that big hyungnim…”
“Ah! That person, it’s that, you know. Yohan-gun, you might not know? From Peripheral District 4…”
What wouldn’t he know? If it were Central, maybe, but as a Peripheral person himself, Son Yowan would be quicker on Peripheral District affairs than anyone here. For instance, as soon as he heard the word ‘4th District’…
‘I thought he wasn’t a civilian, but he belonged to the Black Society. Seeing he was invited to Manghyang, that big hyungnim must be the boss there.’
Among the generally lawless Peripheral Districts, recalling the Black Society—the organized crime syndicate that occupied the 4th District, which was said to be the most hopeless—and immediately deriving the Musician’s position even within that, it was certainly so.
“The Black Sheriff.”
And the answer that arrived one beat slower than Son Yowan’s calculation was as expected.
“But Yohan-gun, why that person?”
“No…”
Son Yowan slyly rolled his eyes and hesitated. He was careful with his words in case, if he spoke wrong, things proceeded in the opposite direction from his expectation—no, premonition—which would be troublesome.
But that didn’t mean he could stop his thoughts. Son Yowan recalled the scene he’d seen earlier—that is, the Detective’s expression and gaze when his collar was grabbed by the Musician and he was insulted to his face—and thought to himself:
‘Somehow I feel like there’s going to be a major position change in the ‘Black Society’ of the 4th District soon.’
Like that.
“Hey! What are you all doing? Come here and watch this dog bastard’s tail-tucked appearance!”
The Musician looked back toward the VIP guests stuck near the wall and urged them to approach. While doing so, he moved his hand and hooked his knife onto the Detective’s belt.
“Look at this! If I pull down his pants, this bastard’s thing will definitely be all shriveled up, so that… Urk!”
The Musician, who had been fiddling with the knife as if about to cut the belt at any moment, suddenly made a bizarre sound.
“Wha, wha, what? What? What is it!”
Then he started shouting such things, but honestly, that was what other people should have said.
“Why, why is he like that? There’s nothing there but he’s alone…”
Just as the Magician muttered, nothing was happening but the Musician alone began shouting and flailing as if seeing illusions.
