“Evil…?”
The woman’s reaction was no different from the man’s. Eyes wide open, mouth agape, wondering if what I’m seeing now is real—a very ordinary petty citizen’s reaction.
The smell of food wafted over.
Evil’s expression, which had worn cynicism, gradually hardened. The two people’s frightened hearts vibrated noisily, and unrefined emotions made his head dizzy.
“When did you buy this house?”
“Pardon?”
“A month ago… we bought it!”
At the man’s question back, the woman quickly answered toward Evil, who slowly raised one eyebrow. The woman sent her spouse a look saying ‘Don’t make him say it twice.’ Evil Devil extremely hated being asked to repeat himself or say something again. It was common knowledge that any Alcity citizen knew.
It wasn’t that Evil unconditionally tried to kill people for making him say something twice. However, to old Users, he was a walking time bomb, an unsealed demon, an unpredictable natural disaster itself, and Evil enjoyed that fear.
“A month ago, from whom.”
“…From Cheche… -nim we purchased it.”
Hearing the frightened answer, Evil’s red eyes gleamed. To think he conducted real estate transactions while unable to download even one app on his phone. The more he knew…
The annoyance subsided and a strange feeling arose. Evil asked, suppressing the strange pounding that burst from deep in his chest.
“How much is this house?”
“We traded it for 300 million daal….”
“What. That’s all?”
At the disappointed tone, the couple bowed their heads with faces turned deathly pale.
“We’re sorry… He insisted on selling it cheaply.”
Evil, who had no interest in real estate, only knew this officetel was expensive but didn’t know the exact market price, but real estate near the Aura Center had a lease price alone of 1 billion, and the sale price went from 1.4 billion to as much as 3 billion.
However, even without knowing that fact, Evil knew that Cheche had sold it extremely cheaply. The reason could be deduced too easily. Because he urgently needed money.
Tar’s young hero must have always needed money urgently.
***
The next morning, James, who came to work at the usual time, entered Evil’s office as always to care for his beloved orchids.
“Hm…?”
He rubbed his eyes seeing the scenery inside, wondering if he wasn’t fully awake yet.
Well he might, because Evil, who usually wasn’t seen until noon, was sitting with his legs up on the desk with a dissatisfied expression. His golden hair sparkling in the morning sunlight was dazzlingly beautiful, but his expression was sulky like a child about to throw a tantrum.
This was the first time in his life that Evil Endem had come to work this early in the morning.
“Evil-nim…?”
“Fuck, when does the refugee come to work?”
The peerless handsome man’s morning greeting started with a curse as always.
“If you mean Cheche-ssi, he comes by 9 o’clock.”
“He comes fucking late.”
Evil furrowed his brow looking at the clock. The current time was 7:40 AM. He still had to wait a while. Evil had come too early.
“I came too early for nothing.”
“Should I call him to come now?”
“Your character is really fucking terrible. Just let that little guy sleep, why would you call him? It’s not even late.”
James, who received character insults from the world-recognized character failure, felt very wronged but endured it as usual.
“Did something happen when you went to Cheche-ssi’s house yesterday?”
“That bastard sold that house. Some strange people were living there.”
“He sold it again?”
“…Again?”
At the tone suggesting he knew the history, Evil raised his eyebrows. Quick-witted James quickly added an explanation.
“A year ago, the family prepared a good place that doubled as a safe house, but he sold it not long after. I only found out about the sale itself recently when we hired him as a secretary, but to think he sold the residence we prepared this time too… This is audacious. We specifically got him a place with a good location and decent security.”
“That’s absurd. Who are you to find it audacious? The house must have been pretty shitty.”
“…Of course. That could be it. He can sell it two or three times, as much as he wants.”
“Are you kidding? What are we, suckers for funding him?”
“I’m sorry. I was short-sighted.”
James apologized and sighed inwardly. Which tune should he match? Evil had a very difficult personality to accommodate, with clear likes and dislikes yet capricious.
“I heard this officetel was sold for 300 million daal—he sold it cheap, right?”
“He sold it excessively cheap. It would easily go for five times that.”
“Stupid bastard.”
Evil, who had removed his legs stretched out on the desk, spun his chair once to face the window. As James gave up on the orchids and tried to quietly leave, Evil bluntly blurted out.
“Where did he live in the meantime?”
Even with the subject omitted, it was sufficiently possible to figure out whose story it was.
“From what I hear, he lived in an old house near the **red-light district**. With the money he saved, he could have easily bought an apartment. Ah, there were also occasionally testimonies posted of seeing him at refugee facilities….”
“Refugee facilities? There’s such a thing?”
To Evil, who didn’t even know refugee facilities existed, James briefly explained.
“It’s a facility that guarantees minimum living conditions for refugees from not only Tar but all over the world. You can think of it as a kind of meal-providing inn. They share the kitchen and shower facilities communally, and even what they call single rooms are so narrow that they’re packed full once you put in a mattress and one desk.”
“So it’s a place where beggar bastards gather to live.”
“……”
“What did he do to make a living? He must have worked.”
“By his own account, he did manual labor.”
He answered that way when having a brief interview for the secretary position. He probably didn’t really do manual labor, but it seemed clear he did work that paid wages in cash.
“How could a kid who looks like he’d collapse with one touch do manual labor?”
“It must be a lie. Since he was such a famous person, no one would dare employ him as a day laborer.”
James wasn’t there when Cheche had an interview for the secretary contract, but he heard from the person who conducted the interview. He lied with an expressionless face saying ‘I worked as a day laborer at construction sites.’ He was a well-known celebrity. Even if they didn’t know who Cheche was, what person would employ a boy with a fairy-like pretty appearance as a manual laborer? It was truly an unconvincing lie.
“What did he really do to make a living?”
“Maybe he just lived playing around because he had a lot of saved money? Should we investigate his financial situation?”
“Why do you keep saying he has a lot of saved money? Did our family give him that when he came to Alcity?”
“That money is money, but he also did a lot of commercials and broadcasts. I don’t know exactly, but it’s certain he made big money.”
“Then why would he have gone from refugee facility to refugee facility? Even selling the house our family got him.”
“That’s true… Where did he really spend it all? Maybe he was scammed.”
James was tempted by his own words. An ignorant refugee with lots of money and young age—he would have been such good prey for scammers.
“Hey.”
Evil asked James, who was thinking about the possibility of fraud.
“A refugee even shot commercials?”
“He probably shot about five or six. There’s also one documentary. With an appearance that rivals any idol, a story that touches emotions, and a distinctive character—how could the industry have left him alone?”
“Really, he’s still a refugee though.”
The tablet PC floated up from the desk behind Evil, who clicked his tongue. The tablet soon settled into Evil’s hand. James wanted to pretend not to see the screen searching for ‘Cheche commercial.’ He was anxious that disadvantages might befall the related companies.
Quite a lot of search results came up. Cheche was more popular than expected.
“A bastard with a known face managed to live communally.”
“When we investigated his whereabouts while hiring him this time, I briefly scanned the internet, and testimonies are extremely rare. In my opinion, I think the residence period was short, about a week to ten days. When his identity was discovered by refugee facility residents, he probably repeated the process of moving. It seems he hid using hats or masks.”
“As if that face could be hidden just by covering it.”
“……”
Is that… a compliment? James was puzzled. Did Evil just compliment someone’s appearance?
A sense of incongruity wrapped around his whole body.
