Yeonwoo smiled awkwardly. If he lingered any longer, he’d start drawing suspicious looks — so he dropped into the nearest seat at the bar. Perhaps because of the in-between hour, the place was nearly empty. A few people sat nursing their drinks in the soft glow of the lighting.
Should I just sit here and wait?
Yeonwoo remembered that he didn’t know what the man looked like. Which meant all he could do was wait for the man to find him.
Grumble.
Yeonwoo quickly pressed a hand to his stomach. Eyes going wide, he scanned the room to see if anyone had heard. Fortunately, no one seemed to have noticed — not a single person had glanced his way. Come to think of it, the only thing that had passed his lips since yesterday was water.
I’m hungry.
The moment he’d arrived at the hotel, instead of washing up, he could have stuffed something into his mouth. This wasn’t home — there was no one to guilt him about eating, no one to scold him for it. But unfortunately, Yeonwoo had no money.
If the meeting place had been a restaurant, he might have managed to eat something. This place didn’t seem to serve food of any kind — only drinks.
He could have at least ordered some bar snacks, but everyone here was simply sipping their drinks — that told him enough. Yeonwoo lowered his eyes, swallowing the disappointment. He just prayed his stomach would have the sense to cooperate. If he was in the middle of talking to the twisted, sick pervert and it went off without warning — that would be a disaster.
Should I at least drink some water?
Filling up on water wasn’t the worst idea. But then he might need to use the bathroom partway through, and that was absolutely out of the question. Whatever happened, Yeonwoo had no intention of leaving his seat once he met the man.
If the man got up to use the bathroom, or stepped away to smoke, Yeonwoo planned to trail after him persistently. While acting as if he had no idea how that might come across.
For the bathroom, he’d say “I’d like to go too.” For smoking — what should he say? That I smoke too? No, that was off the table. A man like this would scrutinize everything about the thing he was buying. Even if it was a lie, saying he smoked might drop his value in the man’s eyes. Yeonwoo thought he’d just ask if he could come along when the man went out for a smoke. Or, if it came to it, quietly trail behind him without a word. Just to know where he was going.
Right. That should work.
The clock read 7:50. Two contradictory feelings lived side by side in him — he desperately wanted the time to arrive, and equally desperately wanted it never to come. With each passing minute, his heart beat faster. It felt like his heart might claw its way right up his throat at any moment. He hadn’t even met the man yet — why was he already shaking this badly? If he was trembling this much now, he’d only shake more when he actually came face-to-face with the twisted, sick pervert.
What if I’m so nervous I say something strange? Yeonwoo tried to think through what he should say when he met the man.
His age — don’t ask. His name — that should be fine to ask.
His job…? No. Yeonwoo quickly shook his head. He was afraid of getting an answer he wouldn’t be able to handle.
What must he be feeling right now?
Was he looking forward to meeting the thing he’d bought — or was he already regretting the purchase? Whatever it was, the only thing Yeonwoo hoped for was that it wasn’t regret.
Lost in thought, the appointed time crept up on him. It would be nice if the man arrived exactly on time — but Yeonwoo had accounted for the possibility that he might not. He swallowed again and again, forcing his eyes away from the clock.
He’ll come, won’t he?
Surely he wouldn’t just not show up? That couldn’t happen. He couldn’t fail before anything had even begun. Yeonwoo kept stealing glances toward the entrance. I shouldn’t be doing this — and yet, like a meerkat, his eyes jumped to every person who stepped into the lounge.
As the time crept later, the trickle of arrivals gradually grew. And then — Yeonwoo spotted a man who set off immediate alarm bells. A man who drew attention in all the worst ways. The scar that cut across his cheek was striking, and even at a glance, his expression was deeply unsettling.
Please, not him.
His entire aura was menacing — the kind of man who, if you bumped into him on the street, would look at you and say “What? Are you blind? Want me to make sure you never open your eyes again?” In all his years, Yeonwoo had never seen anyone with such an intimidating face. Just looking at him made his legs weak. Yeonwoo swallowed hard. Please, please don’t let it be him. As if his desperate prayer had been heard, the man walked right past him without a glance and strode further into the lounge. Watching him go, Yeonwoo let out a long breath. Thank goodness. He exhaled quietly in relief.
Oh.
The next man to enter had a broad, imposing build. His face was no less daunting. The kind of face that would say “What are you looking at?” the moment your eyes happened to meet — or maybe “You want your eyes gouged out?” He prayed this wasn’t the man either. The moment Yeonwoo spotted the hulking figure scanning the room, he quickly dropped his gaze. Then immediately regretted it. I can’t be doing this. Hadn’t he made a promise to himself? Whatever kind of person the twisted, sick pervert turned out to be — he’d accepted it. He’d decided to face it and push through.
And here he was, already acting like this. Yeonwoo resolved from this moment forward to keep his head up. No matter who walked in — even if it was someone with a more frightening face than either of the two men who’d just entered — he absolutely would not flinch.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Yes — yes?”
Why — why are they calling me? Yeonwoo turned wide eyes on the staff member. He’d been so startled his heart was thumping. The staff member, perhaps thrown off by the dramatic reaction, smiled with a slightly put-upon expression. Then held out a menu. Yeonwoo stared blankly at it and took it with both hands.
“Would you like to order?”
Oh — oh… Yeonwoo’s face went red with embarrassment. He’d been sitting here for quite a while now without ordering anything, just staring into space — that must have been why. But he couldn’t sit here eating and drinking before he’d even met the man. That would be rude.
For now, the best thing to do was sit quietly and do nothing.
“In a moment.”
He said this, then quickly added — because the last thing he needed was for the staff member to think he was just taking up space without ordering anything:
“I’m still waiting for my party.”
“Of course.”
The words had barely left his mouth when someone dropped into the seat right beside him. His heart plummeted.
The Story of the Twisted, Sick Pervert
The man — Kang Jihyeok — was, by nature, an arrogant son of a bitch. The company he ran, Lev Corp, looked respectable on the outside, but behind closed doors it was entangled in every manner of illegal activity. Of all the illegal operations he ran, the one that stood above the rest was lending money — and making people pay it back doubled.
The business was conducted in the shadows by design, which meant interest rates were nowhere near what the law would permit. Miss a repayment, delay interest by even a day, and the debt ballooned. And yet, despite all that, the number of people who came crawling to Kang Jihyeok, begging to borrow money, was beyond counting.
He lent sums too large to obtain through legal channels, and as long as the interest and principal kept coming in on time, he never asked what the money was for. It was the perfect arrangement for people with things to hide.
But as always, there were those who didn’t pay. When he had to deal with those kinds of lowlifes, Kang Jihyeok’s mood invariably turned foul.
“Assemblyman Cha?”
His voice was flat, so dry it almost sounded monotonous. But underneath it ran a current of irritation and barely-leashed anger. Manager Yang — his right-hand man of many years — recognized it immediately. But recognizing Kang Jihyeok’s mood didn’t mean he could afford to soften the truth. Manager Yang, whose face was as formidable as his boss’s temper, spoke with every muscle in his body tensed.
“We’ve tried reaching him multiple times, but he isn’t answering.”
The corner of Kang Jihyeok’s mouth curved — not into a smile, but into something crooked. He’d expected as much. The man had been pushing back interest payments with one flimsy excuse after another, and now he’d gone entirely unreachable. Did he think simply dodging calls would make everything go away?
If he genuinely believed that, Kang Jihyeok almost wanted to applaud him. Stupid bastard. Then again, only an idiot would borrow money from him in the first place. Kang Jihyeok pictured Cha Baeju’s greasy face. Stage it as an accident, bleed him dry in the process — harvest every usable organ left in that body, then track down each hidden asset one by one and claim them all…
“Well, well. Has our dear Assemblyman lost his mind?”
He had seen countless men like Cha Baeju in this line of work.
“Oh, CEO Kang — might I borrow a little something?”
All that scraping and bowing when they needed the money — and then, the moment it was time to pay up, they’d wriggle away with every excuse imaginable. A few had even thrown themselves on the ground and told him to cut them open, daring him to do his worst. Kang Jihyeok had obliged them personally. Word had gotten around after that, and the number of people willing to pull that particular stunt had declined — but there were still those who ran from their debts. The kind of idiots who somehow believed they’d be the exception.
