His eyes, carrying an air of irritation, moved slowly.
“Let go. This is getting tiresome.”
“How dare you, trying to sell off our village! What the hell do you know about anything!”
“Second time I’m asking. Let go.”
The village men gathered there held their breath, watching the scene unfold. It felt like something serious was about to happen. Already, they were bracing themselves for the fallout.
But Yongsik and Jihwan, approaching from a distance, looked utterly unbothered.
“Hyung, you should eat.”
“Right.”
“That lady said she already dropped off the food. Better deal with it before it gets cold.”
They even stood right there beside him, chatting away as if nothing at all were happening.
Openly disregarded like that, the man gripping Jonghyeok’s collar spat out another curse. Humiliation and rage rose in him at once.
Slowly, Jonghyeok fixed his gaze on the man and raised a hand with a faint exhale.
“Making it to three would be a hassle for both of us.”
Then he casually closed his grip around the hand clutching his collar. At once, the man’s face twisted. Even though Jonghyeok didn’t seem to be exerting any real force, which only wounded his pride further, he found it unbearable, the sheer strength radiating from that grip. For a brief moment, it genuinely felt like the bones in his wrist were being crushed. His hand was being bent, with unsettling ease, in a direction it was never meant to go.
“…Damn it!”
Cradling his hand, the man finally retreated, fleeing, and disappeared hastily into the village hall. The other men, who’d been standing around awkwardly, scattered after him.
The whole group vanished from sight in the blink of an eye.
“So this is a seaside village and all, but I guess they don’t really do fresh sashimi around here?”
“Quit talking nonsense.”
“Yes, hyung.”
Tap, tap, Jonghyeok brushed off the spot the man’s hand had touched and raked a hand through his hair. Before long, his gaze drifted, slowly, toward the place that had been drawing his attention from earlier.
Right where the sea breeze seemed to originate from, there sat a bicycle. Completely worn out, creaking with every sound. Rusted, its tires half deflated, a bicycle you couldn’t even be sure still rolled properly.
And the bicycle’s owner.
“Keeping that kid close by for now doesn’t seem like a bad idea.”
“…..”
“Everyone’s been saying it’s convenient to just have him run errands while we’re staying in the village, no matter what. Runs the supermarket, and apparently people just have him do this and that for them. And he’s got a connection to that Mrs. Oh too.”
Handles all sorts of work, yet looks awfully delicate for it. Jeongan, with that strange face of his that both fit this rural village and somehow didn’t quite belong to it, stood there quietly, unaware of Jonghyeok’s gaze fixed on him.
Jeongan, who seemed to have witnessed the clash that had just occurred, was staring toward the village hall, then slowly turned his gaze toward Jonghyeok.
“…..”
“…..”
Apparently not expecting their eyes to meet, Jeongan blinked in surprise before quickly bowing his head. He bent deeply enough at the waist that the crown of his thick, round head of hair was visible for a good while.
Then he hopped lightly onto his bicycle. His slender frame settled nimbly onto the seat, and he began pedaling lightly. Stirring up a breeze that smelled fresh and fruity rather than of brine and sea, he vanished from sight first. It looked like he was off on another delivery, judging by the shopping basket sitting in the worn-out front basket of his bicycle. A long stalk of green onion swayed back and forth inside it.
“Said he runs a supermarket, right.”
“Sounds like there’s a small supermarket near the center of the village. A little corner store. I think he mentioned it yesterday too. Remember?”
Amid Jihwan’s words, the sound of seawater slapping against the village’s outer edge carried over. Even though the sea lay some distance from where they stood, it kept feeling as if cold sea spray were repeatedly settling against their cheeks. Jonghyeok nodded, recalling the shopping basket he’d seen in the bicycle basket yesterday and what Jeongan had said.
“And that Mrs. Oh.”
“Looking into it, seems like she really does own about half the land in this village. Timing’s absurd, but apparently she stepped out of the village briefly, day before yesterday. And, apparently that kid’s her grandmother.”
So he lives with this Mrs. Oh, or whoever she is. Jonghyeok ignored the whispers trailing him wherever he walked and moved on with a loose, unhurried stride.
The restaurant owner, seemingly delighted and full of things to say, chattered on and on even as she seated men who, by any measure, looked like they belonged to some back-alley crowd. Jonghyeok, unable to take it any longer, let out a sigh and looked over at her, at which point she finally gasped, startled, and disappeared from view.
“Sorry, hyung. Doesn’t seem like she’s quite grasped the situation yet. We’ve run into a few places like this before too, remember.”
“Hyung, the food’s good though.”
“I don’t think there’s anything you don’t like.”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Clicking his tongue, Jonghyeok tossed the rice paddle back into Yongsik’s now-empty bowl. Yongsik opened the rice cooker and filled a fourth bowl.
Anyway, a supermarket, huh. Run by that kid, no less.
“Guess we’re headed to the supermarket, then.”
“I’ll get things ready right away.”
Jihwan, setting down his spoon first, cast his gaze out toward the horizon stretching straight and even. The sea, calmer today than yesterday, produced a steady, rhythmic sound of waves, kicking up white foam. It licked its way thoroughly along the village’s outer edge, rising, then retreating with a soft hiss, only to form another shapeless wave all over again.
Behind it, a scattering of islands appeared like shadows, and above stretched a sky so clear it was impossible to spot even a trace of dust. It looked like a scene someone had painted, generously, in nothing but blue.
Against that peaceful backdrop, the sight of men in unmistakably dark suits stood out all the more.
“Perfect resort spot, no doubt about it.”
Jonghyeok had long wanted to build a proper resort. He’d scouted out spots for the vacation homes of conglomerate families here and there, built the occasional golf course, but none of it had ever quite satisfied him. He carried a desire, now, to build a high-end resort open to ordinary people, one that would finally let him shed the tag of having come up from the back alleys.
No matter how thick a stack of cash he stood on, that desire never went away. He believed that only by building something open enough for anyone to walk into could he finally carve out a place for himself in the ordinary world.
And this village was the perfect location to make that dream a reality. Not just becoming a construction company CEO in name only, but truly becoming a businessman.
With a location like this, terrain like this, he could lock down serious money, no question…
“Welcome.”
Jeongan was crouched in front of the long refrigerator, sorting out drinks. At the sound of the door opening, he reflexively turned and rose to his feet, then swallowed his words at the sight of the large, dark shadow that had appeared.
“Hello.”
Jonghyeok said nothing in response, simply looking down, quietly, at Jeongan, seated there in an oversized, pale sky blue shirt. Judging by the greeting, it seemed he intended to act as though their earlier encounter out on the road hadn’t happened at all.
“Thought I told you to speak casually with me.”
“Yes.”
Reminded again of what he’d said the day before, Jeongan answered calmly. Just then, a gust of air drifting out from the refrigerator stirred his pale hair.
“Came to buy cigarettes.”
“Which kind would you like?”
Jeongan, who’d been working with cotton work gloves on, pulled them off and stood, walking over toward the counter. Jonghyeok’s gaze swept over the collarbone and neck visible through the gap in Jeongan’s white T-shirt as he named the brand of cigarettes.
“Ah… we don’t carry that. Sorry.”
Embarrassed, apparently, that they didn’t have it in stock, Jeongan’s neck flushed red.
“This is the countryside, so we don’t really bring in stuff like that.”
“Then…”
Jonghyeok named another brand, unconcerned. But Jeongan wore the same troubled expression again.
“So what do you have.”
“Right now…”
True to its nature as a tiny corner store, the supermarket’s cigarette selection was limited. Jonghyeok listened to the sound of the waves seeping into the cramped little shop and picked out something reasonably close.
“Marlboro, then.”
Jeongan held out a red pack of cigarettes. Jonghyeok handed over a fifty thousand won bill and, while waiting for change, took in the inside of the supermarket.
Being a small-town store, there was a wide wooden bench out front. By the door sat an old-fashioned arcade machine, no telling who still used it, along with a coffee vending machine, and inside there were two simple tables. Not a large space, but it looked reasonably well-stocked and clean. A cool breeze blew in through the windows open front and back, and bright sunlight poured in as well.
“Here’s your change. Thank you.”
Having counted the change carefully, Jeongan held it out with both hands. Instead of taking it, Jonghyeok simply looked down at him.
When he made no move to take the money even after a long moment, Jeongan glanced up at him, puzzled.
“Is there something else you need?”
“The lady of the house is home, right.”
For a moment, a faint expression flickered across Jeongan’s calm, composed face.
Jonghyeok tilted his head, watching Jeongan, who hadn’t shown a hint of wariness toward him this whole time, suddenly tense up the moment Mrs. Oh, or that old woman, whichever, came up. It wasn’t the reaction he’d expected.
“I’d like to see her, if I could.”
“…What’s this about?”
“That’s something I’ll say to her directly.”
