The man who had tumbled out of the bathroom was in a terrible state. He’d been beaten so badly there wasn’t a single uninjured spot on his face, and the blood soaking through his white shirt had made its original color nearly impossible to find. Im Gyeong sat across from him, unhurriedly dropping ice cubes into a glass. Then he poured whiskey.
“You look shaken. Have a drink.”
The gesture of offering the glass felt strangely graceful.
Heesin only stared at it, suspicious. Im Gyeong brought it to his own lips first.
“Kang Heesin. You’re quite distrustful, aren’t you?”
After taking a sip, Im Gyeong added:
“Had a rough life? They say people who’ve been through a lot are the ones who can’t trust others.”
Rather than responding, Heesin moved toward the man sprawled on the floor. Up close, it was even worse. Heesin, who had stayed silent until now, finally turned back to Im Gyeong.
“Who did this to him?”
Im Gyeong shrugged. As if it had absolutely nothing to do with him.
Heesin crouched down and met the man’s eyes. He peeled the tape from the man’s mouth — terror carved deep into his face — and a sharp, ragged breath burst free.
“We’ve met before, haven’t we?”
“Long time no see, Prosecutor? That oily face of yours hasn’t changed a bit.”
The man grinned at him. His name was Park Yeongsu, and he was Kim Jungu’s stepbrother. Park Yeongsu was the one who had caused a scene in the courtroom that day, screaming that he’d kill Kim Jungu for betraying the organization.
“Was it you who took Kim Jungu that day, Park Yeongsu?”
The man opened his mouth, then closed it, glancing sideways at Im Gyeong.
“Yeah, we took him. We did. But — ah, for fuck’s sake, can’t you untie this? I’ve been bound up this whole time, I’m dying here. And I need to piss. What am I supposed to do? Go right here? At least let me wet my throat first—”
He seemed to settle at the sight of Heesin, visibly relieved. He was still rambling when footsteps approached, slow and deliberate. Heesin looked up — Im Gyeong was already right in front of them. He grabbed Park Yeongsu by the collar and hauled him forcibly upright. Park Yeongsu’s eyes wavered.
“Wh — why are you—”
Before he could finish, Im Gyeong roughly clamped his jaw and shoved something into his mouth.
“What are you doing?!”
The moment Heesin pulled Im Gyeong back, Park Yeongsu let out a choking sound — his face flooding scarlet. He was gagging and thrashing, and Heesin knew instantly something was wrong.
Shit!
He tried to check inside Park Yeongsu’s mouth, but the man’s eyes were already beginning to roll back. Tears and saliva streaming down his face, Park Yeongsu writhed in agony — Heesin couldn’t just watch. Moving fast, he pressed into the man’s solar plexus from behind and applied repeated compressions until something popped loose and hit the floor.
“HUH—!”
Airway clear, Park Yeongsu collapsed against the floor and dragged in heaving, ragged breaths.
Heesin stared down at the ice cube rolling across the ground.
Im Gyeong had already returned to his seat and was drinking calmly.
“Ask again. He’ll be honest this time.”
Heesin left Park Yeongsu where he was and went after Im Gyeong.
“Are you insane?! Were you actually trying to kill him?”
At that, Park Yeongsu grabbed desperately at Heesin’s trouser leg.
“We were just running an errand! Some important person — paid us, told us to handle it, paid us money! That’s all we did, we just ran the errand!”
Just as Im Gyeong had predicted, Park Yeongsu began to talk. He said he’d been running an errand service when the request came in. At first he’d thought it was a joke. Keep tabs on some guy who’d betrayed the organization years ago, then deal with him. He’d suspected it might be a trap — but the sum was too large. He said he simply hadn’t been able to refuse.
So the moment Kim Jungu was released, they’d tailed him. That was what he confessed.
“It’s the truth!!! I don’t even know who it is! A guy I know, Lee Changseon, introduced us — he knows. But he’s overseas right now and I can’t reach him! If you let me live, I swear I’ll find out! I won’t tell anyone you were involved, Prosecutor!”
Kang Heesin sat down where he stood and met Park Yeongsu’s eyes.
“Kim Jungu?”
“……”
“…Is he dead?”
Park Yeongsu looked away.
“Not yet.”
So he will be soon?
Either way, the kidnapper had confessed — the immediate move was to arrest him.
But after that?
“Why did you threaten me?”
“Figured I might squeeze some money out of it. And part of me wanted payback for what happened before….”
Park Yeongsu’s voice trailed off as he darted a glance at Im Gyeong. His instincts seemed to tell him that one wrong word and this time it wouldn’t just be ice. Heesin stood and rubbed a hand roughly over his face. He moved to leave, and Park Yeongsu grabbed his leg again.
“Please let me live! I’ll keep my mouth shut, I swear! I won’t say a word to anyone!”
He claimed that once Lee Changseon returned from overseas, he’d find out who was behind it all — no matter what it took. So please, he begged, just trust him. Unlike moments ago, he was now fighting desperately to survive. Heesin looked down at Park Yeongsu prostrated at his feet, exhaled, and walked to the sofa.
The moment he sat, he tipped back the whiskey Im Gyeong had poured earlier in one go. That wasn’t enough — he refilled the glass to the brim and drank again.
Two glasses, back to back. A slow heat bloomed through his gut.
“Well? Do you like your gift?”
“……”
“No answer. I’ll take that as a no.”
“I’m thinking. About what your gift actually means.”
“No hidden meaning. Our first meeting was a disaster, but I liked you, Kang Heesin. You’re going to be family — I don’t want things to be difficult for you. Does that get the feeling across?”
I don’t fully trust him. That was probably written all over my face.
“Or what, do I need to charm my way in?”
Even through the smile, there was something subtly overbearing about him. Insufferable, truly.
While that thought was still turning in his head, Im Gyeong extended his hand.
“Let’s put the bad blood behind us and get along from here on. We’re around the same age — we could even be friends.”
Heesin just looked at the offered hand without taking it. Im Gyeong clicked his tongue and withdrew it. Then he made a call to someone. A little while later, men came in and pulled Park Yeongsu up off the floor to take him away.
“Where is Park Yeongsu going?”
“First we need to find out who’s behind this. Speaking of which — anyone come to mind? Someone who might hold a grudge against you? Whoever this is, they’re not small-time.”
Someone who holds a grudge…
Too many to narrow down.
How many people have I put behind bars? I might need to make a separate list. While he was still turning that over, Im Gyeong quietly got up. Heesin wondered where he was going — then Im Gyeong moved and sat right beside him. Close enough for their thighs to almost brush. Heesin frowned without meaning to.
Then Im Gyeong leaned slightly against him and held out a glass.
“Let’s make this work going forward. It’s a rare connection, this.”
Uncomfortable, Heesin shifted to move away — but a hand closed around his shoulder.
“At least toast before you go.”
Reluctantly, he raised his glass and clinked it against Im Gyeong’s. The corner of Im Gyeong’s mouth curved up.
“To our friendship.”
Is he insane. We’ve known each other for what, a few days. Whatever Im Gyeong’s angle was, Heesin didn’t know — but at least he had news about Kim Jungu. The man’s situation was grim, but whether he was alive or not, it was plain that nothing about it would benefit Heesin directly.
The moment the arm around his shoulder dropped, he shifted away. The faint scent of Im Gyeong’s cologne lingered at the edge of his senses. He’d drunk on an empty stomach and could feel the alcohol starting to hit — not a good sign. He decided he’d had enough and stood to leave. Im Gyeong gestured for him to sit back down.
“Stay a little longer.”
“I should get going.”
“Why — I even gave you a gift. Come on. Hm?”
That gesture of his was effortlessly unhurried. A life where being attended to by others had been the natural order from birth. No need to ever ask for anything, no shortage of anything. There was a kind of ease that only people who’d lived that way could carry.
Heesin had envied and longed for a life like that. Yet here he was — a prosecutor without a name to stand on, being told he was just selling his body to some rich man’s daughter. Now that he thought about it, the bitterness surged up for no particular reason. Rather than storm off, he sat back down and fixed Im Gyeong with a gaze that was just slightly crooked, just slightly sharp.
I’ve wondered before — does he have some Western ancestry…
Those eyes. Brown mixed with green. Unusual.
Objectively, he’s beautiful — but the last thing I want is to say it out loud.
He kept staring, unblinking, and that picture-perfect face gradually began to shift into something uncomfortable.
“Kang Heesin.”
The low voice snapped him back.
“Yes?”
“Stop staring. Even if you’re both men, looking at someone like that is going to turn them on.”
What the hell is this bastard on about…
