By Zephyria 
Min-ho tilted his head, still with his arms crossed. He was aware that those guys were showing interest in a strange direction, so he knew Gyu-oh meant he wanted to intervene, but…
“I appreciate you getting angry for me. But what does that have to do with a motorcycle?”
“When you ride a motorcycle, you have to stick close. Can you do that with someone you aren’t even close to? Could Hyung hug Mr. Sowon like that?”
“Are you crazy? Why would I hug Secretary Kang?”
“See. That’s why we have to flaunt our closeness with something trivial like this. We have to show them we’re a set that’s this close.”
So, in the end, it was just nonsense. It was basically the same as saying it was just a day he wanted to ride a motorcycle. It was about time Min-ho got used to Won Gyu-oh’s kind of arbitrary logic. Their relationship had lasted that long, and they were close enough to flaunt it.
“……Fine, do whatever you want, then.”
He quickly changed his words, fearing that if he told him to “do as he fucking pleases,” Gyu-oh might spit out words like cock or dick that would be terrifying for others to overhear, just like last time. He also figured that arguing would only delay things. Min-ho stepped back once again today. It was because he knew this retreat was a way to control Won Gyu-oh.
No matter how many times he came, he couldn’t get used to the air of the shabby table tennis center. Even if the windows were small, there were so many of them; he wondered if they ever ventilated the place. Every time he breathed, the roof of his mouth felt itchy. He sat down, vowing to either bring a mask next time or change the meeting spot.
“1.2 billion. I can’t lower it.”
The first thing the man said upon sitting was to raise the settlement amount. He didn’t seem to be in contact with the pastor, yet his attitude was quite firm. Min-ho looked up at the guy with an absurd expression.
“Do you think 200 million just pops out of the ground? You make it sound so easy.”
“If it’s a conglomerate’s land, it might.”
It had been bothering him since last time that the guy kept mentioning “conglomerates,” but he had missed the timing to correct him every time. This time was no different.
“Do you think going to a prison cell for confinement and violence is no big deal?”
Or maybe he thought he could just throw a few people in as meat shields? Even at the question, the shaggy-haired man only shrugged his shoulders. Min-ho scanned the interior.
Unlike when they first met, the men weren’t looking at him. They turned their gazes away, pretending to be indifferent, as if they had no interest in the conversation. They were silently pressuring them, projecting an aura that they had nothing to lose. He cleared his throat, which had become scratchy from the dust-filled air.
“Then should I give you something a bit stronger?”
“…….”
Only then did the men’s eyes quietly turn toward them. Having several cards to play was useful in times like this. He could pull them out one by one and thrust them in front of their eyes. When Min-ho gave a slight signal with his eyes, Gyu-oh’s head, clad in a helmet, moved slightly up and down.
Gyu-oh pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his bike jacket pocket. It had been fine when he brought it, but now the edges were all worn, as if it had rolled around a desk for years. Gyu-oh flipped up the face shield with a clack and unfolded the crumpled paper. Then, he cleared his throat conspicuously and read the words in a loud voice.
“6th: Kim Dong-moon, Lee Jae-young, seventy. 7th: Kwon Na-yeon, forty.”
“…….”
The men, who had tilted their heads at the combination of ordinary names and numbers, showed agitation as they belatedly realized what the list was.
“17th: Kim Chae-young, Kim Dong-moon, Jin Seong-il, Heo Jae-gang… why are there so many on the 17th? On the sacred Chuseok holiday, those fucking perverts.”
Whether he got angry while reading, the guy spat out a curse in irritation and crumpled the paper with one hand. The gazes that had barely gathered until now suddenly snapped to Gyu-oh’s hand.
“How about this? The fact that you guys sell people.”
Regardless of gender, they sent believers to establishments. Sometimes they made them do cleaning or designated driving, and other times they made them pour drinks or do things beyond that; the methods varied. They had established a ‘rule’ that one must go through those places to receive a grace prayer from the cult pastor.
Desperate people endured in the most corrupt and hideous spaces in the world, naked and vulnerable, heading toward the cult pastor. They never dreamed that their very existence was being exploited, believing instead that they must endure such sacrifices to receive grace.
“I also have a ledger showing that you took the money after pushing them into those establishments.”
The list Gyu-oh had recited was the evidence. The money obtained by circulating them through those establishments naturally went into the pockets of the pastor and these men.
“……A scrap of paper is evidence? I’ll believe that.”
The shaggy-haired man changed his expression and scoffed, pretending to be composed. For now, he was denying it. He probably thought there was no concrete evidence, unlike the photos they had presented last time.
“We’ve gotten the list, so surely there’s no way there isn’t CCTV.”
Min-ho curled the corners of his lips. It looked somewhat like a victor’s smile. The shaggy-haired man’s face hardened as he looked back and forth between Min-ho and Gyu-oh.
“Do you still insist on 1.2 billion?”
“…….”
“I doubt it.”
The shaggy-haired man, who had been staring silently at the floor, gave a slight signal to the man standing next to him. Seeing him immediately pull out a phone from his pocket, it seemed he had someone to report to. For example, the pastor. It meant that while he played the boss here, he had no authority to make independent decisions.
“You need more time to think, right? Fortunately, I have some free time today, so I’ll wait.”
Min-ho unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and loosened his tie. Dressed much more comfortably than before, he leaned back against the chair. Gyu-oh also took off the helmet he had been wearing and shook out his hair. Then, he repeatedly played a game of tossing and catching a ping-pong ball rolling nearby. Watching the two of them act as if they intended to settle in, the shaggy-haired man cleared his throat to draw attention.
“I need to make a quick call.”
“Sure.”
The moment the shaggy-haired man stood up with his phone, Min-ho and Gyu-oh checked their wristwatches. It was an action meant to apply silent pressure. Clearing his throat again, the shaggy-haired man headed toward a room attached to the back. A silhouette moved back and forth behind the square window.
Just then, Min-ho’s phone vibrated. Ji-ho’s name appeared on the screen. It was during the morning practice time. He stared at the screen, signaled Gyu-oh, and shook his phone. He stepped out of the table tennis center to take the call. He wondered if something had happened, but the call ended quickly with a simple message saying a package had been sent and to check it.
He slid the phone into his pocket and opened the door to the table tennis center. Immediately, Gyu-oh’s gaze snapped to him. His head turned so quickly his bangs fluttered, and his brow was furrowed. His face was clearly filled with something like bewilderment, so Min-ho silently moved his lips.
‘What.’
However, there was no response from Gyu-oh. His crumpled face showed no sign of smoothing out.
“…….”
Did something happen in the short time he was gone? While Min-ho tilted his head, the shaggy-haired man, who had been talking in the small room, came out with an awkward expression. Whether he had been cursed at or had fought, the back of his neck was completely red.
Because of the dust swept out from the small room, Min-ho’s nose and throat felt itchy. Even as Min-ho sneezed while covering his mouth, the man stubbornly spat out only his own words.
“The pastor is away on a business trip right now, so he seems frazzled. Sip, anyway, there’s no need to decide immediately, so give us a bit more time, right?”
“Hmm.”
After a few sneezes, Min-ho rubbed his reddened eyes with his fingertips and chewed over the man’s words. Then, leaning his body crookedly while supporting himself with one hand on the table tennis table, he met the eyes of Gyu-oh, who had turned his head. Those fierce eyes slowly closed and opened.
Reading the silent agreement, Min-ho sank into deep thought. He had been visiting this place every two or three days. Then, this time, should he loosen the leash and give them some breathing room? Having finished his deliberation, Min-ho straightened his body and spoke.
“Two weeks.”
“……Two whole weeks?”
“That should be enough, right?”
If he gave them a long time and followed up, he would be able to roughly figure out the pastor’s movements. Then he could find evidence that the pastor was involved, whether it was drugs or something else.
“Fine, two weeks. We also, huh, have quite a lot of losses, so we need to think deeply about this.”
“Instead, let’s meet on the Uwun side next time.”
Gyu-oh, who had been standing like a stranger throughout the conversation, suddenly cut in to help. At the sudden suggestion to change the meeting place, the shaggy-haired man even glared sharply.
“Why?”
“Coming here all the time, I feel like I’m developing an allergy I never had.”
Everyone’s gaze shifted toward Gyu-oh. Despite receiving the sharp looks with his whole body, Gyu-oh seemed unfazed. He even frowned, covering his mouth with his large hand. The expensive watch was still sparkling on his wrist.
“Are everyone’s lungs okay? Just breathing feels like shit.”
“Wha-what do you mean?”
“I guess you’re just built for places like this.”
The faces of the men watching him wave his hand in front of his nose crumpled instantly. Truly, Won Gyu-oh was an expert at grating on people’s nerves. Piercing through the chilling atmosphere, Min-ho raised his right hand.
“I also vote that it feels like shit. Let’s meet on our side next time.”
Though no one agreed, the two began preparing to leave as if they had received a definitive answer.
“Min-ho Hyung-nim is still the same, huh?”
While waiting for Gyu-oh to pack his helmet and gloves, the shaggy-haired man said something incomprehensible. He even used the title ‘Hyung-nim,’ which he hadn’t mentioned since they met again. Gyu-oh, who had been bending his waist, stopped abruptly and sent a gaze back.
“The way he coddles Won Gyu-oh. It was always like that back then, too, right?”
“Were you jealous? Then you should have been born like him. So that you’d be worth protecting.”
He replied nonchalantly with a shrug, but he was inwardly surprised. He thought he had simply acted reasonably upon seeing Gyu-oh being bullied for absurd reasons. He realized that in others’ eyes, it might have looked like he was coddling him.
“Your way of speaking is still the same. I wonder if your body is still the same as before.”
The shaggy-haired man licked his lips and lowered his gaze. It was a gaze directed precisely at Min-ho’s lower body, and the words had a clear intention.
“……It’s been a while since I stopped fighting. My form has probably dropped a lot.”
While he was shrugging, pretending not to understand, Gyu-oh suddenly stepped in between them. Even just looking at his back, it was overflowing with the fact that he was in a bad mood.