The man, paying no mind to Dohui’s swaying, undid the cord binding his wrists. The moment it snapped loose, he felt blood rushing fiercely all the way to his fingertips.
He clutched his wrists — numb and tingling like they’d cramped up — and Gong Haejin grabbed him by the collar and hauled him forward. At the cold face that came inches from his own, Dohui’s eyes slowly slid away. He couldn’t bring himself to look directly at him.
“Why are you looking away?”
“……Hk.”
“Where’s the rest of the goods.”
“What…… what goods. I don’t know…… You have the wrong person.”
Dohui forced out every word with everything he had. He genuinely had no idea what the man was talking about. He felt wronged and frustrated, but the man had no intention of believing in his innocence. On top of that, the man kept asking him to hand over some goods, asking if he’d been having fun — and no matter how hard he racked his brain, nothing came up.
How did he know his name, and what were these cryptic questions supposed to mean. The sense of injustice made tears pour out of him.
“I really don’t know anything……”
“Second year at a Korean university — no, wait, you’re about to be a third year? Either way, if I show you, you’ll remember.”
The man’s words were mocking, yet his face remained expressionless throughout, his voice flat and toneless. That was somehow even more terrifying. He seemed like someone without emotions.
When Dohui still couldn’t even blink, Gong Haejin flicked his hand again. Once more, the unwelcome sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the barren space. And then — thud — something dropped in front of Dohui’s eyes.
A bag.
The bag Jinho had asked him to receive.
“Why is that here……”
It had been at home, he was sure of it. He’d left it at the front door and forgotten about it — so why was this man bringing it out now.
The moment Dohui spoke, Gong Haejin seized him by the back of the neck and dragged him right up to the bag. Pulled along like a dog, Dohui’s nostrils were flooded with the pungent smell coming from the worn Boston bag. As if that weren’t enough, the man shoved Dohui’s face into it. He genuinely thought he’d be plunged straight into it — the cold sensation of the zipper scraped against the bridge of his nose and cheek.
“Still don’t know?”
“……It’s a fr— a friend’s!”
Dohui answered loudly, face squashed and voice muffled. Because it was the truth. It wasn’t his — and with that, the fragmented pieces of events were beginning to slot together haphazardly.
“A friend’s uncle brought it as a gift, he said. He told me I just had to receive it…… If you look at my ph— phone……”
“Not an ounce of loyalty.”
Even at the biting retort, Dohui was too busy trying to prove his innocence. What happened. It really was something the uncle gave me. Was it this man’s to begin with? I need to apologize. Tell him it was a misunderstanding and tell him to take it back. He was desperate.
“I’m telling the truth. He said if I just held onto it, he’d come pick it up tomorrow.”
He managed to get the words out, haltingly, to their end. The man, who had maintained silence through the jumbled account, released his grip on Dohui’s neck.
“A gift?”
“……Yes. Hk, it’s…… it’s real.”
“Proof.”
Dohui pulled his phone from his coat. With violently trembling hands he unlocked it and held the messenger chat out to the man.
“What is this.”
Gong Haejin gave the screen a brief glance and scoffed.
“Look with your own eyes.”
Dohui blinked his trembling lashes several times.
Ah……
Only then did the memory he’d pushed aside resurface. That the messages he and Jinho had exchanged had been deleted.
The messenger window contained nothing of what Dohui had described. The brief back-and-forth between them had been entirely erased — aside from Dohui’s own [yeah, voice call lol], all that remained was his later message asking why everything had been deleted.
On top of that, the calls hadn’t been recorded. With no solid evidence to produce, Gong Haejin didn’t believe him. No — it seemed like he hadn’t had any intention of properly looking into it from the start.
“One million won.”
Dohui froze, unable even to blink. His heart was hammering so wildly it felt like it might leap out of his throat.
“The reason a student is receiving this kind of money is obvious. And yet here you are playing games.”
“That was……”
There was no room to make excuses on that point. Jinho had transferred one million won as payment — but as far as Dohui had known, the item had a different owner entirely.
If he’d known, he never would have done it. He was overwhelmed with a maddening sense of injustice, and he wanted Jinho brought here to clear things up.
A call — yes, call him right now.
His fingertips, drained of all color and gone white, barely managed to press the call button — but the connecting tone only floated in the air and refused to cut to an answer. The longer the ringtone dragged on, the more anxious he became. He felt as though his remaining time was dwindling moment by moment.
He might be on the plane. There might be no wi-fi at the layover. Trying a regular phone call instead of a messenger call yielded the same result, and Dohui’s body temperature dropped cold.
What do I do……
Dohui cast a pitiful look, begging for one more chance. Being made to kneel helplessly before someone for the first time in his life — that alone wasn’t enough — he’d been struck, humiliated, and now it seemed he was about to be pinned with a false charge on top of it all.
“Please…… believe me. Please just check once…… He said he’s arriving tomorrow. So until then…… just give me until then……!”
Dohui clasped his hands together and pleaded like a sinner begging for mercy. If the four large men around him each landed just a single kick, his bones might crumble on the spot. Any hope of police easily wandering into a remote place like this — he’d abandoned that. A location cut off even from outside entry broke Dohui down fast.
Gong Haejin watched that sight steadily for a moment, then unzipped the Boston bag.
Dohui had lost count of how many times his heart had stopped today. It had been shock after shock. He wished this were a dream. A nightmare. Yes — this was just a nightmare. A hallucination that would disappear when he closed his eyes and opened them again.
As the pitch-black bag fell open at Gong Haejin’s hands, clear pouches filled with small white pills were stacked layer upon layer inside.
Anyone who saw this would know — this was no gift.
“……”
He’d had no idea something like this was inside. His only crime was receiving it and leaving it untouched at home. He should have opened it. Instead of just leaving it at the front door, he should have opened it — reported it to the police, thrown it in the trash, done anything — kept it out of the house…… the house……? Wait — if it was at home, why is it here?
The realization came far too late.
“Wh—…… this…… did you take this from my house?”
He let out a short, contemptuous smile, as if to say obviously. Dohui’s mouth fell open. He forgot to cry, forgot to beg.
“How did you know where I live…… and the passcode……”
Nothing was clear. How could this man possibly know his home’s passcode.
But as though that were beside the point, the man asked again.
“Who you sold it to will come out if we look into it.”
“……I didn’t sell anything. I received it in the early hours yesterday and left it…… just as it was. Please believe me.”
“What is it you keep telling me to believe.”
“Hff……”
A thin thread of crying leaked from Dohui’s lips, gone cold and pale. Gong Haejin watched him steadily. That brief gaze bore down on every inch of Dohui’s body.
“Take him.”
Wait — please just listen to me——! Dohui’s desperate cry was swallowed again by the black cloth. He was still on the floor, and the smell of dust pressed thickly into his nose.
He might actually die here.
***
Screech — the sound of tires scraping as they entered an underground parking garage was eerie. The man who had dragged Dohui along haphazardly shoved him into a windowless room. Dim, with nothing around him — and his phone had already been taken long ago.
“Director.”
“Put him down.”
The rough grip on Dohui released. The watch around the man’s wrist was removed and dropped onto the table without ceremony — a clean, unadorned motion.
Dohui stared at the hand, now bare of any accessory. It was enormous — large as a full moon — and every time the man opened and closed his fist, blue veins surged and swelled beneath the skin.
“Let’s take off the coat. So we can have a conversation.”
Dohui hesitated, and the man flicked his fingers. A silent prompt. But he didn’t want to unzip the coat he had pulled all the way up to his chin. Trivial as it was, it felt like something he shouldn’t do.
“I…… I’d like to keep it on.”
“Stubborn. Fine, if that’s more comfortable.”
The moment that reluctant permission was granted, Dohui’s vision flashed white.
Cough——! A sudden blow forced a cough out of him involuntarily. His lip — it felt split. It hurt. It hurt so much.
“Listen carefully. The losses you’ve caused me are severe.”
“……”
The man continued, paying no mind to Dohui’s state.
“I wondered what kind of gutsy bastard pulled this off — turns out it was some clueless idiot.”
“……”
