“……What?”
“Apparently the landlord put up some kind of guarantee, or something like that. Ugh, the whole building was in an uproar over it.”
“……What the fuck does that mean?”
The unexpected words made Yeon Haejeong’s face gradually twist into something ugly. Faced with his rough speech and the menacing air he radiated without regard for who he was talking to, the woman instinctively shrank back and lowered her voice as she answered.
“W-well, I don’t know the details. Anyway, the landlord got kicked out, so he’s not here anymore.”
“…Ha.”
“They say those thugs took the security deposit too. Anyway, since there’s no one here, could you please stop making so much noi—”
“Son of a bitch!”
Yeon Haejeong roared, kicking the door again. At his threatening display, the woman couldn’t even close her gaping mouth as she stared blankly at him. Yeon Haejeong, indifferent to her reaction, quickly made his way out of the building. It was something he hadn’t anticipated at all. The momentary daze didn’t last long — Yeon Haejeong vented his fury by repeatedly kicking the tires of his foreign car.
The only thing that could simultaneously involve a guarantor and thugs was loan sharks. But the Im Munyeong Yeon Haejeong knew was absolutely not the type to ever use loan sharks. He didn’t have the kind of greed or desperate circumstances that would drive him to something like that in the first place.
The only thing that came to mind immediately was that one deadbeat Im Munyeong used to call his friend. Thinking of Shin Juho — who had the audacity to make him pay off his debts and then leech off him — Yeon Haejeong’s face twisted into something demonic as he violently slammed his fist down on the car roof. As if that weren’t enough, he thrashed about in something close to a full-body fit, expelling every ounce of his rage in ragged, heaving breaths. He looked like a furious beast.
“That fucking bastard dares to……”
Having struck the car roof hard enough to dent it, Yeon Haejeong kept seething. Burning with rage, his head felt ready to burst with thoughts of Im Munyeong — and no idea where he might have gone.
“Where the hell did that idiot go now… Ha, damn it.”
The fact that he’d clearly been betrayed by a friend, and that he could practically see Munyeong wallowing in misery somewhere, made his blood boil even more. His head wasn’t the only thing burning — even his eyes felt hot. Yeon Haejeong cursed into the empty air, “Damn it all!” unable to calm his agitation, and urgently dialed someone’s number.
It didn’t ring many times. Yeon Haejeong called out in a low voice.
“Secretary Ju.”
With a more grave and serious expression than ever before, he continued.
“Find someone for me.”
He had truly slipped away. Not to somewhere Yeon Haejeong could reach immediately — but to some unknown place, beyond his control.
**
Munyeong, driven out with nothing but a single suitcase, walked with no destination in mind.
Just a few days ago, he never could have imagined in his wildest dreams that something like this would happen. On the day he resigned, what greeted him when he returned home was a group of men he didn’t know. They were threatening-looking men dressed in suits worn carelessly, with tattoos covering their faces and necks. Just from their appearance alone, Munyeong could sense they weren’t ordinary people, and he froze on the spot.
He had wanted to rest for a bit — but what had been waiting for him were thugs who robbed him of his money and home under the guise of a debt guarantee. The apartment was already a complete mess. They had turned everything upside down as if looking for anything of value, and there wasn’t a single spot left untouched. Munyeong demanded to know on what grounds they were doing this, but they gave him a single name.
Shin Juho.
In that instant, Munyeong stared at them as if he’d been struck in the back of the head with a hammer.
That bastard ran off without paying his debts?
……
So what can you do about it? The lease deposit and bank account he left as collateral — we’re here to collect. Isn’t that right?
He looked younger than Munyeong. But there was a knife scar on his face, and a snake tattoo coiled around his entire neck. None of that registered, though. Because when they’d searched the apartment, what couldn’t be found — his bankbook and his lease contract — were in their hands.
And laid out before his eyes was a guarantee pledge he knew nothing about.
I-I don’t know anything about this……
How can you not know? You’re not an idiot.
They blamed and berated him for being so clueless. Munyeong felt fear creeping in and stepped back, but there were other men stationed behind him as well.
That bastard put you down as his guarantor.
……Th-that can’t be right……
Looks like he found the perfect sucker.
The thug clicked his tongue lightly at Munyeong, whose demeanor was so completely different from anyone they might have passed on the street.
That’s why you shouldn’t keep a guy like that as a friend.
……
Being taken advantage of is also your fault.
He tapped Munyeong on the forehead and sneered.
We feel a little bad doing this to an innocent person, but what can we do. It’s all work and business.
They went on brazenly, as if what they were doing — an outright illegal act — were perfectly justified. Unable to easily accept the situation, Munyeong forced his trembling lips open.
……What about Juho……?
If we knew where he was, we wouldn’t have come to you, would we?
……
Enough explanation — just come along quietly, yeah? Even your bank account and lease deposit combined don’t cover that bastard’s interest.
Just a few days ago, Juho had said it clearly.
That he’d quit gambling a long time ago. That he’d be less than human if he did it again after all the trouble he’d caused. He’d said it with his head held high. Had Munyeong been too naive? And too foolish? He had simply believed that if he paid off Juho’s debt just once, Juho would live hard like him.
In truth, he had vaguely sensed from the start that that hope was his own selfishness. Paying off the debt had been his own desire too. There had been a certain arrogance in believing he could save a person that way — but the desire for Juho to live an ordinary, worry-free life had been stronger. If even that counted as presumption, he had nothing to say… but with things having turned out this way, he had no words of excuse either. In the end, he had been forcing that on someone who had no intention of living that way. Using the debt repayment as leverage.
At first, Munyeong had called Shin Juho dozens of times. He called and he sent messages, but what came back was exactly one reply.
[I’m sorry, Munyeong…… I’m truly ashamed of myself. I’m sorry. I’ll definitely pay the money back. Please wait just a little longer.]
It was a message full of nothing but excuses. He called again the moment he received it, but all that rang out was a mechanical voice saying the other party’s phone was turned off. In the end, Munyeong had to accept his reality. That he’d lost his home. That he’d lost his bank account. And that he’d been betrayed by his one and only friend.
**
On the first day after losing everything in an instant, he headed to a jjimjilbang. He needed somewhere to sleep right away, but the money he had on him was so little that he had to stretch it as far as possible. Once that money ran out too, even sleeping at the jjimjilbang became impossible. He had nowhere to go. In dramas and movies, people in situations like this would go to their parents — but he had no parents to go to. Whenever he faced an unexpected hardship, Munyeong always found himself missing parents who had no form. They were the only people he had to miss. With such a narrow circle of relationships, there was no one he wanted to see.
For moments when he couldn’t even miss parents who had no form, there was one more person who would vaguely come to mind. Someone he consciously tried not to think about — but who would drift into his thoughts when he felt too pitiful, when the road ahead felt pitch black.
I wonder if he knows by now. That I quit.
He had honestly expected that if he left without a word, that person would rage at him for daring to do as he pleased and reach out — but his phone had stayed unexpectedly quiet. It seemed like it truly didn’t matter to him at all anymore. Well, it made sense. He was someone who had no reason to miss anything. What was one employee quitting? No matter how few people he could trust, there would be plenty of better, more dependable people than him.
“I hope he’s doing well….”
Munyeong murmured quietly, staring blankly up at the night sky. He would forcibly put Munyeong to work, but Munyeong knew the words — that there was no one he could easily trust — were sincere. Munyeong was someone who had witnessed with his own two eyes that man nearly being kidnapped. That was part of why he had gone along with those unreasonable demands, pretending he had no choice.
Munyeong smiled bitterly and stood in front of Seoul Station. All his money was gone, and he couldn’t go to a PC bang or a jjimjilbang. Even if he tried to find a job that provided room and board right away, there was no way to do so. He needed to get through the night somehow, and the only place that came to mind was here.
The place where he had been abandoned.
Munyeong quietly dragged his suitcase toward a place where he could spend the night. He had lived so hard — and it was heartbreaking that the only place he had to return to was where he had once been thrown away. Unable to shake the bitterness, Munyeong moved his feet in silence.
**
Munyeong, who had been curled up unable to even lie down properly among a crowd of homeless people, quietly opened his eyes as the surrounding area gradually grew more clamorous.
