To build rapport with that fellow, I should have some conversation about common topics, but I don’t know what would be good.
Alcohol… he disliked it. Card games… he disliked them. Hwatu or mahjong… he disliked them. Drives… he disliked them. Parties… he disliked them.
“Rather than having been…”
Son Yowan realized anew. That person and I don’t match on anything.
Really, what should I do?
If I just drag him to nice places like before, hmm, that probably won’t work, will it?
“I lived there.”
Should I do what that fellow mainly does?
“‘I lived there’… would be the correct expression.”
Then, what that fellow mainly does—lying on beds, lying on sofas, lying on chairs, lying on floors.
And?
Sleeping on beds, sleeping on sofas, sleeping on chairs, sleeping on floors.
“…”
Son Yowan felt restless just imagining it. The only thing he would likely do on a bed or sofa while simultaneously forming closeness with another person… probably…
“I was sold to Central when I was very young.”
“Sex…?”
The Detective and Son Yowan spoke simultaneously.
“…”
“…”
And fell silent simultaneously.
Tik-tak.
Son Yowan felt like he heard the auditory hallucination of an analog clock hand moving in his head. That’s how much he’d momentarily lost his senses.
“Uh, so—”
He hadn’t realized because he was thinking. That the other person, that Detective fellow, was speaking! Even saying something very serious somewhere along the line!
But Son Yowan was born too shameless to be flustered for long. So he spoke with a brazen face as if he had never spouted (dog)shit.
“You were sold to Central? I thought Captain So was Central-born, but that’s quite unexpected…”
…While speaking, he screamed a second internal scream.
Wait, this is way too heavy a story, isn’t it?
Sold!
Son Yowan recalled the information he had requested in his deal with the VIPs.
“Your attitudes toward Captain So are different from last time—why is that?”
According to what the Director, who came forward as their representative, told him, the reason the VIPs’ attitude toward the Detective changed was this:
“We didn’t know because it was Goyo’s internal affairs, but Captain So… No, can we even call that person a captain? Probably not. Anyway, So Yeowon is captain in name only, actually treated worse than even a regular member.”
“Every move is reported to the Godfather, and without another member accompanying him, he can’t even leave.”
“Leave where? His own room. Yes, practically no different from an imprisoned convict.”
“When several high-ranking officials called So Yeowon not Goyo’s ‘captain’ but the Godfather’s ‘dog,’ it wasn’t a metaphor for loyalty.”
When asked where on earth they heard such stories, the answer was related to another Goyo member Son Yowan had seen (should it be ‘heard’?).
“Yohan-gun, you must roughly guess now too… Actually, after being confined, we continuously tried to inform the outside of our situation. …That’s right, the entrance was in a closed state. But Manghyang is so vast, isn’t it? Lots of strange items too. Since holograms were controlled due to the Soyo alert state, we wondered what to do, but we found it.”
“A telephone. Very old-fashioned. They said it was a very old item not used even before the World Funeral. Yohan-gun, have you seen one? It was a telephone with an actual wire!”
“Did such an antique work? At first it didn’t. But when we looked closely, my goodness! There was a flat gap. Just the right gap for a chip to fit! It must have been modified for event use.”
“Isn’t that the rule in this Manghyang? Living with designated nicknames rather than real names, and except for basic necessities, all facilities within Manghyang can only be used with chips. Yes, the telephone worked too!”
“Oh boy, don’t even mention it. It ate so many chips that none of us have any chips left. Come to think of it, Yohan-gun, you’ve inadvertently fulfilled your dream? Just counting chips, you’re the richest person here.”
“Anyway, so we connected with someone… Perhaps because it’s inside Goeidam, interference waves came out or something, the call was cut off quickly. But fortunately we got a promise to send someone. But then the other party, a Goyo person, gave us information. About what kind of existence So Yeowon is within Goyo.”
“They called him a dog, and he really was treated like a dog. …Thinking about it, both the Godfather and we were severely bitten by a vicious dog.”
‘Goyo’s dog,’ closer to a dog than a captain.
He already knew that much, but…
This is the first time I’m hearing he was from the Peripheral District and was sold to Central? Is it a fact those VIP fellows don’t know, or did they just not tell me?
No. That was something to dig into later; what he had to do now was separate. No, no, not do—say.
“…That’s quite remarkable.”
“Remarkable.”
“Yep. You overcame your past and were reborn as such a fine person, weren’t you? Wow, as a fellow Peripheral District native, I’m truly proud, Captain-nim!”
“Son Yowan-ssi, you’ve consistently said you grew up in Central before.”
Damn, I briefly forgot while flattering. Should’ve only done verse one.
“Whew. Since it’s come to this, there’s no helping it. Actually, I’m from the Peripheral District. That godam from earlier was also a story that circulated in the village where I grew up. …It’s a secret I’ve never revealed to anyone else. I’m telling you this because the other party is Captain-nim.”
Son Yowan pretended to be melancholy, touching his forehead and grumbling, while earnestly hoping inside. Since he’d decided to use the already-holed setting as fertilizer for the ‘I’m only telling you’ strategy, please let it work on that Detective fellow.
“…”
“…”
Silence flowed again. Unlike when he misspoke earlier, this time Son Yowan boldly glanced at the other person. The Detective fellow… showed no particular reaction. Even thrusting forward the common ground of being fellow Peripheral District natives didn’t seem to make the other person feel any closeness toward him, but whatever. Son Yowan was satisfied just to have gotten past the situation that was first embarrassing, then cold-sweat-inducing.
Ha, since it’s come to this, I should rest a bit and rack my brain on how to be left alone in the room.
It seemed trivial but was actually a fairly high-difficulty mission. If separated too long, the misfortune of having his neck cut by Goeidam or some unknown culprit could occur, but if the Detective fellow kept his senses, he couldn’t freely search for the radio.
That level where the Detective fellow is with me but senseless would be just right.
Is deep sleep the answer after all?
That’s when it happened.
“So, Son Yowan-ssi.”
“Yes.”
“Will you do it with me?”
“Yes?”
Wondering what this sudden talk was about, he looked at the Detective, who had even lowered the arm that had been covering his eyes and was looking at Son Yowan.
Son Yowan, who made eye contact with the Detective without preparation, reflexively froze. The Detective’s brown eyes that normally had a subtle reddish tint looked like pitch-black holes when seen like this, making it even more impossible to know what he was thinking.
“Sex, I mean.”
“No, I really can’t tell what you’re thinking.”
What is this talk, really?
04
The past few days flashed quickly through Son Yowan’s mind.
Were there such signs?
The conclusion came immediately.
There weren’t. Definitely weren’t. If there had been something ‘electric’ between the Detective and himself, things would have happened long ago. At the time, he had been with the Detective, one of the few peers here, around the clock.
The whole time he dragged him around, the Detective was tired and wanted to lie down and wanted to rest and wanted to sleep. Sleep, not Sex.
Yet suddenly, uh…
“…Since there’s no answer, I interpreted it as affirmative for now…”
Sleep becomes Sex?
No, no. There was nothing bad for him in this. If they had a physical conversation, they’d somehow become close. Even better if the other person collapsed after one round. He could stay not far from the Detective, the safety line of the murder play, while searching for the radio to use in his deal with the VIPs.
That’s definitely true, but.
Somehow the feeling is strange…
“If not, please say so in the middle…”
Son Yowan watched with wide eyes as the man who had been sitting almost buried rose up, pushed aside the side table between them, and approached. It was his old habit that came out when he was rarely truly flustered.
Creak.
Eventually the man who came right up close grabbed both armrests of the sofa Son Yowan sat on and leaned forward. Momentarily Son Yowan became sensitive in all his senses. His ears heard the sound of the sofa tilting backward and the sound of their clothes brushing together, his nose caught a completely different person’s body scent from his own, and his skin felt an unfamiliar temperature.
