The man’s eyes gleamed, not a trace of shame on his face. He clearly thought Kang Jihyeok had taken the bait. Fucking hell, that makes me feel even worse. Kang Jihyeok ground his teeth. The words came out loud enough for Manager Yang and Yu Cheol, who were standing a step back, to hear — but the man, too caught up in his own desperation, didn’t catch it.
“I’ve been drinking a lot too, so my liver’s been pretty… haha. You know how it is, right?”
“Oh, is that so?”
“The kidneys, the liver, and well, things like that — you can live just fine with a little less of them, so… haha.”
How are they all like this…. Kang Jihyeok found the man repulsive. Though he wasn’t much different himself, lending money to someone like that and trying to collect on it. No — wait. Kang Jihyeok let out a self-deprecating laugh.
The memory of agreeing to take the kid instead of the 5 billion from Assemblyman Cha surfaced in his mind. Instead of telling him to cut the bullshit and shove it, he had let the words slip out — that he’d try a taste first before deciding. Strictly speaking, he was no different from the man standing before him.
“A-and, I’ve heard that liver and kidney prices have been pretty high lately, so… do you think I could borrow just a little more?”
It was utter nonsense, not worth hearing another word of. Kang Jihyeok waved his hand dismissively. At that, Manager Yang grabbed the man by the arm and hauled him to his feet.
“W-wait. Sir,”
The man thrashed and wailed as he was dragged out. The names of his first child, his second, even his wife spilled from his lips one after another — but not a single person there cared to listen.
After the commotion died down, Kang Jihyeok tapped the desk lightly. It was a barely-there sound, but to those who kept their attention fixed on his every move, it rang out like a crack of lightning. Everyone held their breath and looked at him.
“Yu Cheol.”
“Yes.”
Yu Cheol thought of the fate of the man who had just been dragged out. Is he telling me to rough him up more? If so, I need to move as fast as possible. If I drag my feet, the guy’ll already be on the boat.
“What does the kid like these days?”
But the question that came back was completely out of nowhere.
“Are you talking about me, hyung?”
The playful tone earned him a solid smack on the back from Manager Yang, who was standing nearby. And yet, judging by the grin spread across his face, the joke hadn’t bothered him in the slightest. Kang Jihyeok, watching the exchange, was the same. The tightly pressed line of his lips curved upward into an arc, and the tension that had been gripping the room loosened.
“You little shit. Call him sir. What are we, a bunch of thugs?”
“Ah, look at our faces, will you. Doesn’t it just scream thug written all over them.”
Yu Cheol snorted and shot back playfully. Manager Yang didn’t bother denying it. The scar cutting across his cheek made an already rough face look even rougher. Manager Yang clicked his tongue and scratched his head.
Yu Cheol wasn’t much better himself. Built like a wall, he was a snarling, teeth-baring sort of man to everyone except Manager Yang and Kang Jihyeok. One accidental glance at either of their faces on the street would be enough to send someone into a panic.
“We’re thugs, alright.”
He knew that the ones who bowed and scraped with sir, sir to his face would turn right around and mutter money-crazy thug bastard the moment his back was turned. He had no intention of denying it. At his core, he was a thug. Not a sir.
Kang Jihyeok had never once been ashamed of the fact that he was a thug. If anything, wearing a suit and playing refined had never suited him — it was the harder thing to do.
“So why are you asking what kids like?”
“Might be bringing one in.”
Kang Jihyeok answered indifferently. And as he said it, the figure in the photograph crossed his mind. Kid. It had slipped out on impulse, but it fit. Even in the blurry photo, he could make out a face that looked soft and downy. Picturing that face again, his mouth watered.
“Oh, are we getting a new youngest?”
Yu Cheol, who had been playing the youngest all this time, leaped up with delight. Manager Yang, who knew this kid wasn’t meant in the youngest-sibling sense, kept his mouth shut — and Kang Jihyeok said nothing either, just smiled.
Yu Cheol, oblivious to that strange silence, clapped his hands as if the hope of finally escaping the youngest-sibling role had appeared right before his eyes.
“It’d have to be money, wouldn’t it? Money, obviously!”
Pressing his thumb and index finger together into a little circle, Yu Cheol giggled. Then he shrugged, as if to say he was only kidding.
“How old?”
“Twenty-one.”
Yu Cheol, who had been bouncing with excitement at the news of a new youngest, went quiet. Then he blinked his small eyes as if he’d just heard something strange.
“Did you say twenty-one?”
“Yeah.”
Yu Cheol’s mouth dropped open, the tiny ember of hope he’d been nursing now extinguished. Twenty-one. How on earth was that the youngest…?
“Isn’t that basically a newborn?”
A newborn, exactly. All soft and downy, too. The image of rolling around messily in bed with that soft, downy kid had crossed his mind — and he’d gotten hard, hadn’t he? He’d wanted to see that pale, slender body marked with bite marks, eyes red and raw at the corners, tears streaming down. But he couldn’t say that out loud. Even by his own standards, it was filthy. Kang Jihyeok casually left the rest unsaid.
“Yu Cheol.”
Yu Cheol just blinked. His expression said he couldn’t understand why his hyung was bringing in some twenty-one-year-old kid with a downy face.
“Yes, hyung.”
“The kid isn’t the youngest.”
“Then… what is he?”
“Taken in place of a debt.”
“What?”
His hyung, who would chase someone to the ends of hell to collect what was owed — had taken a twenty-one-year-old kid instead of money. Was the world about to turn upside down? On top of that, Kang Jihyeok despised the very act of taking a person instead of money. Hadn’t the man dragged out of this very office a bloody mess just a few hours ago been beaten even worse and shipped off for saying something along those lines?
Yu Cheol couldn’t make sense of any of this. But he didn’t push back against what Kang Jihyeok said. Believing that everything he did had a reason, he quickly accepted it. There had to be a greater purpose he simply wasn’t seeing.
“How much was the debt, hyung?”
“Hmm, 5 billion?”
“Come on, be serious.”
He burst out laughing. But no matter how long he waited, no laughter came back to meet his. His hollow laugh filled the room.
“…Is that for real?”
“Yeah.”
Kang Jihyeok rose from his seat. Yu Cheol stared at him blankly, while Manager Yang stood up after him.
“W-when are you bringing him in?”
“Tonight.”
Yeah, tonight. Once tonight was over, he’d know — whether this feeling rattling through him was a lie or the truth. Kang Jihyeok straightened his clothes. It was time to go and find out.
Yeonwoo
The sound of a man taking a seat made Yeonwoo startle so hard he nearly leaped halfway out of his chair. But the other person wore a relaxed expression, as if nothing was out of the ordinary at all.
Yeonwoo looked at the man who had, out of all the empty seats available, chosen to sit right beside him. Head to toe in polished, expensive clothing — even to another man’s eyes, he looked undeniably striking. Yeonwoo blinked at him, dazed.
Why did he sit here?
No matter how he thought about it, he couldn’t figure out why the man had chosen the seat next to him. Trying his best to hide his flustered state, Yeonwoo rolled his eyes around and parted his lips. Should I tell him not to sit here? No. He couldn’t say that. It would be far too rude to say to an adult.
Not knowing what to say, he was just fidgeting on the spot when the man’s warm voice settled softly against his ear.