By Zephyria President Im, standing firmly in front of the solitary cell, was glaring at Namu with a menacing face. Namu’s pale face, half-kneeling, glistened with sweat. He had a fever. The narrow, sealed solitary cell was opened only once a day, which was when the Manager pushed in food.
However, trapped in a pitch-black place without a single light, Namu’s sense of time had blurred. He was confused about what day it was, how long he had been trapped, and whether it was day or night. It was also because he had suffered several seizures in between.
The one who opened the solitary cell door today was not the Manager, but President Im. Namu’s mouth, which craved water more than the bread or kimbap the Manager would throw in, grew even drier.
“Are you really not going to tell me how you found that place?”
‘Tangerine Massage’ had the same structure as Gamgyul City. From the outside, it looked like a simple city or building, but the interior was a maze in all directions, much like an ant colony.
The interior, narrow compared to the scale of the building—meaning the hidden spaces behind the walls—were secret locations for people wishing to enjoy illegalities. Sometimes they served as shelters in preparation for the frequent fights between organizations.
If the sauna room was a place for illegal enjoyment, the closet in Room 7 was used for hiding, and Room 9 was used for locking up consumables. Numerous other secret spaces were distributed like an ant colony.
Namu, who could never have found one of those on his own, knew about it.
His face, which had been swollen from beatings, had thinned out over a few days, leaving only deep blue bruises, and Namu’s lips, which had frequently bled and sweated, were parched and cracked.
“Aren’t you going to answer?”
“…I found it by chance while cleaning….”
Under continued interrogation, Namu, barely opening his hazy eyes, moved his dry lips.
By chance while cleaning? Even if such a chance existed once in a thousand times, President Im chose not to believe it. If just one of Namu’s many regulars had intentionally told him the location, it was as good as other locations being exposed.
It would have been easier if it were a spy for the police or prosecution. He could just throw money at them. But if it were a mole sent by another organization, the problem became much larger. Among the thug groups that had begun to claim their territories like mushrooms after rain, two organizations of considerable size were recently shifting toward splitting Gamgyul City in half. The Jokjebi Clan and the Jjiksae Clan.
‘Tangerine Massage’ belonged to the Jokjebi Clan’s territory. While Jjiksae grew its power through drugs, Jokjebi grew its power through human trafficking. The two groups, which had maintained a precarious peace by swallowing small organizations one by one like a game of land-grab, began to feel a sharp tension immediately after rumors spread that ‘someone had been sent from The Center.’
No, to be precise, it started when the illegal Houses, the main source of income for Jokjebi, were destroyed one by one by unidentified assailants. The clear timeline was that the rumor about ‘someone being sent from The Center’ began to circulate after the second House, not the first, was destroyed.
Jokjebi suspected Jjiksae more than The Center. Stealing candy from kids was unsatisfying; now that they had grown larger, they were trying to eat Jokjebi one bite at a time. They had inserted the rumor of ‘The Center’ to prevent the Jokjebi side from moving rashly.
Above all, as the whereabouts of the person sent from The Center remained mysterious, Jokjebi’s suspicion soon became conviction. If Jjiksae intended to start a full-scale land-grab, ‘Tangerine Massage’—a symbolic place for Jokjebi, frequently visited by Jokjebi’s low-ranks and action captains as an initiation or reward—was highly likely to be the first target.
However, President Im lacked the guts to share his conviction with the Jokjebi. If he was barking up the wrong tree, the responsibility would fall entirely on him. He had no desire to take such a risk. Instead, President Im used another tactic—one where he remained safe and the ‘tangerine massage’ suffered minimal damage.
President Im, who had been glaring suspiciously at Namu—who had repeated “I happened to find it while cleaning” several times—asked once more.
“Not because some other guy told you?”
“No…”
His cracked voice was so dry it sounded as if he might cough up blood at any moment. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a shred of pity in the gaze President Im cast down upon him.
“Right, I see…”
Namu, who was ignorant of the ways of the world and foolishly docile, was a boy who didn’t even know how to lie. Perhaps it was true that he found it while cleaning. That was a good thing in its own right. There was no harm in being prepared. The Jokjebi would eventually send the “merchandise” to the market once they were done using him anyway; what did a day or two make a difference?
Once President Im reached a conclusion, the Manager standing behind him stepped forward.
“Goodness… the poor thing is practically wasting away.”
The Manager’s words were sincere in that moment as he poured water into Namu’s mouth. People weren’t always evil, nor were they always good. It was simply that the concentration and density of good and evil varied; the Manager’s goodwill appeared as rarely as beans sprouting in a drought. Only when it didn’t cost him anything.
“Mu, are you okay?”
“…Yes.”
In his hazy state of mind, Namu was confused by the Manager’s alternating goodwill and malice. The rapidly shifting attitudes and looks were almost frightening now.
The boy, who was already quiet, had become even quieter. Deciding there was no longer a need to keep him in solitary confinement, President Im turned around and nodded, having reached the same conclusion.
“Make him look presentable by 3 o’clock.”
By 3 PM, the thugs would start showing up to warm up their bodies before starting their “work.” Some came for massages, but most sought out the sauna rooms or the sex rooms behind the walls.
Namu, this kid. He’s going to fill his belly with cum today.
Tsking, though not feeling particularly sorry, the Manager helped Namu up. President Im glared at Namu, who looked as exhausted as if he’d been there for two months despite only being there for two days, spat out a curse, and left the shop.
It had only been two days, but for Namu, who had been trapped in a narrow, sealed room without knowing day from night, it might have felt like two years instead of two months. Being completely cut off from the outside world meant that all five senses and instincts were severed, which was why they threw those who tried to escape or those who were too stubborn into solitary. Then, a hundred percent of the time, they became docile. The wild ones became quiet, and the quiet ones became even quieter.
Perhaps because he had been crumpled up for two days, Namu couldn’t walk well. The Manager dragged him along and put him in the sauna’s bath. The withered boy began to regain a bit of vitality, like a tree soaking up water. Just a little, of course.
And yet, this kid… did they say he looks erotic? Did they say his obedience, even while groaning in pain, fuels their violence? Disgusting bastards.
The Manager placed a soft castella cake instead of dry bread next to a bottle of mineral water and gently patted Namu’s rounded shoulders.
“Eat. We’re fully booked today too.”
Looking at his naked body, there were few spots that weren’t bruised or scraped.
Well, I guess that’s just his lot in life.
The Manager murmured indifferently and left the sauna.
* * *
“Parents missing, raised by his grandfather from infancy, then became a complete orphan at fourteen. No sign of the parents—whether they sank into the earth or soared into the sky, there’s zero trace of them. Until his grandfather was alive, they were dirt poor, but he apparently grew up receiving a lot of love. Well, the grandfather loved him so much it wouldn’t have hurt to put him in his eye, so I guess he committed suicide because he didn’t want to be a burden.”
Mu-won, who was playing tug-of-war with a red dog without putting in much effort, looked at Hwang-ah, who was sitting on a plastic chair. At the look that told her to keep talking, Hwang-ah looked down at her tablet, though she had already memorized everything, appearing quite displeased.
“He was a basic livelihood security recipient, barely scraping by selling waste paper. In the year the boy turned fourteen, his grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. He went to a local clinic because he kept vomiting, and it was stomach cancer. It was stage 1.5, so surgery was possible. But in that situation, do you think he had insurance? Do you think he had anyone to turn to? He probably didn’t even know there were ways to ask the state for help. Well, even that isn’t entirely free.”
It meant the grandfather had taken his own life so as not to be a burden to his young grandson.
“Cause of death: poisoning, potassium cyanide. The body wasn’t found at home, but in a waste disposal bin at a nearby funeral hall.”
Perhaps he worried that his grandson, whom he loved so dearly, would develop a trauma associated with the space they called home.
Tsking inwardly, Hwang-ah glanced at Mu-won. Mu-won, who had started playing tug-of-war again, still had an unreadable expression.
“The relatives refused to take the body, so it went straight to cremation without a funeral. Since it was a city-run funeral hall, they didn’t charge for the cost. He spent his first year of middle school in a foster home, then bounced around facilities before joining a runaway family in his second year of high school. After graduating high school, he left the runaway family, and then there’s Seo Su-yeong.”
Hwang-ah accidentally tapped the tablet and continued.
“Seo Su-yeong, who was in the same family, introduced Namu to ‘tangerine massage.’ In exchange, Seo Su-yeong got out. A straight swap.”
The red dog, having lost interest, turned away and shoved its nose into the water bowl. While only the sound of the dog drinking echoed in the front yard of the inn, Mu-won, sitting on the wooden platform, took out a cigarette and lit it.
“Seo Su-yeong got stabbed in the back too. He was caught while doing manual labor, spent three months rolling around in a brothel, and has been missing since.”
“Since” implied there was a possibility he was still alive. Having finished the report on Namu’s background, Hwang-ah scratched her head and added one more thing.
“Ah, and they said they’re pulling Namu out of tangerine massage completely today or tomorrow. Moving him into media. They’re going to make him film real-time porn for the dark web.”
The end of dark web porn was snuff.
Hwang-ah narrowed her eyes as she looked at Mu-won, who remained silent despite having ordered a full investigation. She couldn’t tell if he was interested or not. As she tilted her head in confusion, the sound of heavy panting drifted in from outside the inn’s gate.
It was Jae-un and Seong-cheol, who had run up the slope.
“Hyung-nim!”
“H-Hyung-nim!”
Something must have happened; the two hulking figures, calling out to Mu-won simultaneously, were now fidgeting, unable to actually open their mouths.
They had heard that several of the Jokjebi Clan’s action captains were planning to go to the sauna today as a group to “drain” themselves. The sauna was the illegal business site for ‘tangerine massage,’ and the only person receiving guests in that sauna was Namu.
Mu-won looked at the two muscle-bound pigs, who seemed to be in deep agony over whether they should tell him this or not, then crushed his cigarette and pulled out his phone.
The CCTV that Hwang-ah had connected was streaming in real-time. Out of the 50 cameras illuminating various parts of the ‘tangerine massage’ building, Namu appeared on camera 10. It was a view of his back, curled up in the sauna bath.
Seeing Mu-won’s completely nonchalant demeanor, Jae-un and Seong-cheol were momentarily bewildered, wondering if they were getting worked up for nothing, their breath still ragged.
“I know.”
“Hyung-nim?”
Mu-won, who had stood up without a sound, put his phone away and looked at them.
“Do you think I’d have assigned Hwang-ah to this for no reason?”
“Huh?”
“Ah!”
At their contrasting reactions, Mu-won slightly raised one eyebrow and strode out of the inn with his long legs.
“Hey, General Manager, Assistant Manager, aren’t you coming?”
At Hwang-ah’s remark, the two snapped back to their senses and scrambled to follow Mu-won. Hwang-ah was just as confused as they were. It was ambiguous, but as expected, Mu-won wasn’t the type of person to make his subordinates do useless work.
The red dog, sensing an unusual atmosphere while drinking water, barked loudly—unlike its usual self—as it watched the three hulks leave the inn in succession.
Hwang-ah, crouching in front of it, didn’t reach out for fear of being bitten and muttered softly.
“Hey, even if you don’t throw a fit, the CEO will bring him back on his own.”
Though she had absolutely no clue what he planned to use him for.
* * *
Namu, who had drunk every last drop of a 200mL carton of white milk, neatly folded the castella wrapper and put it in the trash. He hesitated, then rubbed his stomach. He was hungry. Even if it wasn’t bread, he wanted just one more milk.
‘Eat. We’re fully booked today too.’
On days like this, the Manager became quite affectionate, like he used to be. He pitied Namu and felt sorry for him. Namu didn’t dislike those feelings. In fact, he liked them. Goodwill was better than malice, hypocrisy was better than feigned evil, and pity was better than indifference.
However, what made Namu hesitate wasn’t the fear of the Manager’s rebuke—telling him that even a drop of milk was a waste on him. It was that if he ate more, he might vomit. Because… when receiving guests, Namu didn’t just do massages.
If the guest wanted, he washed them from head to toe, and he performed massages with a body made slippery by foam or oil, sliding around unsightly. Throughout that process, Namu’s body did not belong to him. The guests touched Namu whenever and however they pleased.
They rubbed their dicks against him until his armpits were raw, or did doggy-style until his thighs were chafed. Doggy-style. Namu had learned from the guests that such an act was called doggy-style.
A guest who complained that his chest was too small slapped Namu’s chest with a palm the size of a pot lid, as if striking his cheek. He hit so hard that tears welled up after only two strikes, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the guest. After ten hits, his chest began to swell red, and by the fortieth hit, it was swollen enough to be gripped.
The guest, gripping the asymmetrically enlarged chest as if it would burst, chewed the other side meticulously until bite marks remained. Out of laziness. He was too lazy to keep slapping him to make a chest that wouldn’t even be a handful, so he chewed until it bled and then clipped both nipples with clothespins. To try and grow nipples that were smaller than grains of rice.
Namu cried because it hurt. When he cried, the guests liked it more and became more excited. Even so, he couldn’t stop the tears. It was a reflex of a body vulnerable to fear and pain. Then, he would be spanked until his buttocks felt like they were on fire. That was okay. At least they didn’t beat him with intent like they did at the House. That was bearable.
One guest, who had Namu flipped upside down on his stomach, put Namu’s dangling dick in his mouth and sucked it hard. Namu, who had never even imagined, let alone experienced, someone sucking there in his life, almost fainted. But he truly fainted after that guest sucked his dick until it went limp. Having ejaculated countless times, Namu incessantly leaked fluid and urine, which the guests called ‘fountaining.’
The guest, gripping and shaking Namu’s testicles as if to tear them off while Namu was on the verge of collapse, raged, saying, “This little whore is the only one enjoying himself.” Namu’s cheek was rubbed violently against the guest’s flabby, hairy belly. Namu sucked the guest’s belly button until his tongue felt numb. He didn’t feel nauseous. He only let out screams that barely came out due to the force with which his testicles and shaft were twisted.
After five days of working at the sauna, he began receiving several guests at once. Usually two or three. That was the first time Namu had sucked a man’s dick. He was beaten a lot because he vomited before he could even fill his mouth. Still, it wasn’t as bad as the House, so he could endure it. The guest who received Namu’s vomit tried to shove his dick back in while raging, but the other guests stopped him.
‘Hey, I told you not to touch the mouth-pussy or the back-pussy.’
‘Fuck! Like he’s some grand whore!’
‘The bosses said they’re going to enjoy him as a group on the unity day. In a neighborhood overflowing with rags, there needs to be one brand new one for the bosses to have a taste of, right?’
‘Brand new my ass, he’s a total rag.’
‘Is this whore’s death day coming up?’
‘They said they’ll rotate him just enough so he doesn’t die, then move him to the sex rooms.’
‘If he’s in the sex rooms, that means anyone can fuck him.’
‘Fuck, I’ll volunteer for free. When that time comes, I’m going to rip open every pussy, top and bottom.’
The men, chatting among themselves, spent that day fucking every part of him except his mouth and anus. That was the day Namu first learned that one could fuck an ear canal. When they shoved a glans into his nostril and ejaculated, the cloudy semen flowed back into his tear ducts. They even forced his eyelids open and ejaculated onto his eyeballs.
That day, they never once put Namu on the treatment table. They simply used his face, his armpits, and his breasts until his knees were bruised, then flipped him over on the tile floor, laid him down, and took turns mounting him. What washed Namu’s face and body, drenched in semen, was not water, but their urine.
After that, the guests’ behavior grew worse and worse. Because it happened gradually, Namu didn’t even properly perceive it. The pseudo-sexual acts disguised as massages became qualitatively more severe, and the treatment was no different.
Having spent half the day rolling around after a single meal of bread or kimbap, Namu’s stomach was stuck to his back; the only things filling his stomach were the semen and urine they forced into him. If his stomach growled because he was too hungry, or if he accidentally let a word about being hungry slip, they would insert a shower nozzle into his anus and turn the faucet to the max. When his small belly swelled as if it would burst, Namu couldn’t hold back the vomiting.
Eventually, he would be grabbed by the hair and slapped, or spat upon, or have his swollen belly stepped on, causing the water injected into his gaping anus to spray out. After that, it was more fucking until his skin was peeled off. Still, it wasn’t a pain he couldn’t bear, so he endured. It wasn’t the kind of terror he felt at the House, so he survived. Selling sexual acts was less painful than selling professional beatings.
“…”
Recalling the memory of having water injected into his anus, Namu finally gave up on the milk. It was hard if his stomach was too full. Moreover, recently, the nausea had become more frequent and severe. Guests hated it when he gagged. The guests who didn’t hate it would swear at him with smiling faces and treat him even more harshly.
2:50 PM. It was almost 3 o’clock. He had wasted time worrying about something he wasn’t going to eat anyway. Namu put toothpaste on his toothbrush and began brushing. After finishing quickly, he turned on the shower. As he washed his hair and soaped his body, the cypress door swung open.
Startled, Namu looked over. A large man walked in with long strides, taking off his clothes. Namu, frozen like a startled rabbit, hesitated before belatedly greeting him.
“Ah, hello, guest. Welcome.”
“Hello my ass, are you the fresh pussy for today?”
“…Yes.”
Namu had learned that he should only answer ‘yes’ to the guests’ questions.
“Hey, I feel fucking gross, so wash me first.”
The man, who had stripped down to nothing, including his underwear, stood in front of Namu under the shower. Like the guests who had visited the sauna before, his entire body was covered in tattoos. His back was undoubtedly covered by a fearsome tiger. However, there was one difference. Unlike the others who had bulked up by increasing their food intake, the man before him had a moderate amount of muscle along with his flesh.
Thwack—!
“What are you doing?”
Namu, who had been standing blankly, was hit on the head and became even more disoriented. His head rang as if he had hit it hard against something. But fearing another punch would follow the harsh word, Namu quickly snapped out of it and moved fast. In truth, he hadn’t been spacing out. He just hadn’t understood the man’s request immediately.
Namu adjusted the shower temperature and carefully wet the man’s body. After wetting him sufficiently, he turned off the water and began to lather the towel hanging to the side. Then, he used the lathered towel to wipe his own body, not the man’s. Meanwhile, the man, who had only wet his hair and pushed it back, narrowed his slanted eyes.
“Fuck, I heard they’ve been sending kids in and out to train them, but look at this. Even a seasoned rag would cry seeing this. Hey, are you actually a virgin?”
“Yes… guest.”
Namu, who had applied foam to every corner of his own crotch, answered obediently and put the towel back in its place. Then, before the man could frown further, he moved. Soon, two slender arms wrapped around the man’s back.
“Hup.”
Stimulated by a body that was far softer than expected, the man let out a groan.
“Fuck.”
The man, angered by the sensation itself, grabbed Namu’s hair and shook him, but then let out a chuckle upon seeing the terrified face.
“A brat whose only virgin spot is his hole, and he’s this scared.”
Once he let go of the hair, Namu, barely regaining his balance, pressed his body closer to the man’s. The man’s body, overall twice as large as Namu’s, had an irregular mix of fat and muscle. His belly touched before his chest, and his fleshy back couldn’t be fully embraced by two arms. Still, Namu began to rub his body against the man’s as naturally as possible.
“Haa, you little dick-rag.”
As Namu rubbed his body up and down, sitting with his knees spread like a frog and rubbing his face and chest against the man’s thighs and calves, the man finally reached his limit.
“Ah…!”
Namu was grabbed by the forearm and flung aside, his flank slamming into the treatment table. Without even glancing at the bruise forming on Namu’s side, the man hurriedly lay down on the table.
“Hey, get up here.”
Without a moment to check the spot where he’d hit, Namu obeyed the man’s command. Careful not to slip on his foam-covered body, he climbed atop the man lying on the treatment table. Then, he did as he had been taught. He lay flat, pressing his body against the man’s, rubbing himself up and down to spread the foam. Every time his soft testicles and penis brushed against the man’s thighs and lower abdomen, the resulting groans made Namu shrink his shoulders.
“Haa, fuck. Hey, try it with your ass too.”
“What? …Yes.”
Namu, who had been pressed tightly against the man’s entire body, spread his thighs wide at the panting man’s request. Because the man’s waist filled his crotch, Namu barely managed to balance himself with both knees on the treatment table before slowly raising his hips. He then lowered his buttocks onto the man’s stomach.
“Guh. Fuck!”
As the soft, tofu-like buttocks pressed down on the slightly protruding belly, the man’s penis shot up, and he gripped Namu’s waist.
It was then that the cypress door swung open, just as it had when the man first entered. A succession of hulking figures entered, all with menacing faces and flushed with intoxication. Come to think of it, the man Namu was sitting on had also smelled of alcohol.
One, two, three, four, five… Namu gave up counting and had no choice but to focus on the man gripping his waist. The man was thrusting his lower body upward violently. His now-hardened cock sliced fiercely through the cleft of Namu’s buttocks and hit as far as his lower back.
The excited man’s face was beet red. Namu was a little scared of the bloodshot eyes and the panting breath. But it was okay. This kind of thing… was okay.
Splash—! Along with the sound of someone diving into the bathtub, Namu’s head was jerked back. A black leather belt wrapped around his long neck like a noose and yanked him, as if snatching prey.
“Kugh!”
Namu let out a shallow gasp and seemed to slide toward the man’s crotch before crashing down off the treatment table. He didn’t even feel the pain of the bruises from the fall. Not even knowing what was tightening around his neck, Namu struggled, scratching wildly with both hands, before retching. It was because a leather shoe had flown from somewhere and kicked him in the stomach.
“You little shit, you ran here so fast just to fuck him alone without any loyalty?”
“First come, first served. Fuck loyalty.”
“Is this him? The new kid?”
“Fuck, I can’t even tell what his face looks like. Hey, you treating him like a dog? Loosen the leash a bit!”
“Hey, hey! The shower!”
A group of men, too many to count, bickered back and forth, and then—shhh— a powerful stream of water blasted into Namu’s face.
“Kugh, cough—! Gack— hugh…!”
As soon as the belt around his neck loosened, Namu struggled, unable to take a single proper breath due to the blasting water.
“Is he a live fish? He’s flopping like crazy. Hey, tighten it.”
“Kugh—!”
At someone’s word, the belt snapped tight again. The men looked down at his face, which turned beet red and distorted once more. One, two, three… Just as his mind began to blur from the lack of oxygen, the belt loosened.
“Haaa…!”
As Namu gasped for air like someone pulled out of water, the belt around his Adam’s apple tightened again. This happened several times. Only when his flopping body could barely manage a convulsion did the water-soaked belt fall away from his thin neck. His muscles, completely loosened by the merciless torture, left his body limp. His face was the same; though every orifice was agape, he was still quite a sight to behold.
“They said he was born with a dick instead of a pussy, but his face is killer.”
“Hey, hey. Is he alive? Fuck, can a guy like this even tighten up?”
“Idiot, do you actually believe this kid is a virgin?”
“Fuck, even a slut has to tighten up a bit for me to cum.”
“Even a total slut tightens up when you choke them and dunk them in water.”
“You bastards! I’m taking him first!”
Two guys who had been sitting in the bath smoking or taking drugs waved their hands dismissively, while the four or five who had just entered began to strip with smirks. There were twelve members in total, having just come from a combined team-building dinner for the Jokjebi Clan’s action captains.
“You fucking bastards, you can’t stand to see someone else get a turn first, can you?”
“Why didn’t you open up his hole before playing pervert?”
“Fuck, I was just starting to have some fun.”
“Hey, this is just the appetizer.”
The main event was a sex party that would take place in a club hotel room. Not just sharing one cheap whore in a low-rent sauna, but a real sex party in Gamgyul City’s most luxurious hotel, surrounded by the most expensive whores.
Even the guys who wouldn’t normally look at a male whore had jumped into this three-pyeong sauna because of the excitement the location provided. Of course, that excitement didn’t come from the cheap sauna or the whore.
It was a kind of custom that had started back when the Jokjebi Clan was just a gang of thugs in one section of Gamgyul City’s Block 47. Even now, having risen to the point of splitting Gamgyul City with the Jjiksae Clan or discussing absorbing them, the tradition remained. The meaning of that custom was a promotion in status from a mere knife-wielder to an executive.
A rite of passage that began in the past, when thugs with no money or connections celebrated their meager victories in a cramped sauna with a single cheap whore. A reward given by the organization’s boss to action captains who produced results. The fact that they were recognized by the boss was what excited them. The boss’s recognition meant success within the organization.
It was their privilege to devour the wretched sacrifice thrown into this grand ceremony like a feast. A privilege they had never experienced in their lives heightened their arousal. Adrenaline, fueled by alcohol and drugs, ran wild, instantly swallowing their thin reason and worn-out common sense.
The shadows of the men fell over Namu’s body, which was slippery with foam and oil. His limbs were spread, and both hands were seized. Namu’s blurred vision repeatedly flickered between white and black. Namu wished a seizure would happen now. However, even the chronic illness that would follow him for the rest of his life did not obey his will.
Just as he had suffered his first seizure only after finishing his grandfather’s funeral and completing the death notification. Just as he had when he realized his grandfather chose to die because of him. Namu always suffered a seizure only after reaching the end. A seizure was neither Namu’s escape nor his sanctuary. It was merely the process of falling one more step toward the bottom. Whenever he opened his eyes, the situation had always worsened.
When he finally had a seizure and opened his eyes after having a chunk of time carved out of his memory, the only good memory he had… at the end of that memory where nothing bad happened and everything was just good… there was a guest. Among Namu’s many guests, only Cha Mu-won had given him a good memory. And even then, it was only once. That was why it was precious to Namu. That was why…
Sliiiide— Namu’s thighs, pulled downward, were lifted up. Someone occupying the space between his legs rubbed the head of their cock against his anus. Namu didn’t even have the strength to resist or relax. His limp body was as heavy as water-logged cotton. His mind was numb. With a brain that barely functioned, Namu tried to think only of good things. But it didn’t work.
This time, too, he would only have a seizure after it was all over. The luck of having a seizure in the middle did not happen to Namu. How far would he fall this time? When he opened his eyes this time…
‘The hyungs are going to enjoy themselves as a group on the team-building day. In a neighborhood overflowing with sluts, there needs to be one brand new toy for the hyungs to have a taste of, right?’
‘Brand new my ass, he’s practically a rag.’
‘Is that whore’s death day on that date?’
‘They said to rotate him just enough so he doesn’t die, then move him to the sex room.’
‘If it’s the sex room, that means anyone can fuck him.’
‘Fuck, I’ll volunteer for free. When the time comes, I’m going to rip apart every hole he’s got, top and bottom.’
Namu was scared. He was scared because he couldn’t precisely understand the words the men were shouting, yet he could vaguely grasp them. But would anything change just because he was scared? If he resisted, a deeper swamp pulled Namu down. If he tried to escape, a darker pit swallowed him whole.
He didn’t want to live like this. To avoid being a burden, to avoid leaving debts to a young grandson. His grandfather, who had walked to the funeral home on that cold day with a broken body, surely wouldn’t have wanted his grandson to live like this.
Namu was unhappy. Despite surviving by chance, he became unhappy in the exact direction his grandfather hadn’t wanted. Foolishly. Like a fool.
“Haa, haa, keugh!”
Someone’s cum dripped onto Namu’s face. As the choking stopped, Namu’s mind cleared up bit by bit, very slowly. Namu hated that. The pain was felt too vividly. It was agonizing because his situation—not even being treated as human—was too stark.
Was this really better? Was being raped while being treated like a torn-up rag better than being beaten like an animal?
Namu hated it. He hated being beaten, he hated having his back hole taken, and he hated not being treated as a person. In truth, he hated everything. He didn’t want to do any of it.
So he resisted a little. Though he was beaten hundreds of times more, Namu pushed the men away, saying he hated it. While constantly slipping with his greasy body, while being mercilessly beaten by the men’s hands and feet, he pleaded, resisted, begged, and struggled, saying he hated it, he hated it, please stop.
“Please…”
Thwack—!
“Please… stop it…”
Thwack—! Thwack—! Thwack—!
Every time he managed to utter a word, violence even worse than before struck Namu. His head rattled, and his stomach churned. The shouts and curses of the angry men tangled together above his head.
Thwack—! Thwack—! Thwack—!
Namu couldn’t distinguish the sound of himself being hit, the sounds he was leaking, or the sounds the men were screaming. That’s why… that’s why he didn’t hear the sound of the door breaking. He didn’t even notice the people pouring in through the broken door. He simply curled his body as best he could and pleaded. Please… stop.
Crash—!
The glass entrance door on the first floor of the massage shop building shattered. Following a hulking man swinging a club, twenty gangsters rushed into the building. They were from the Jjiksae Clan.
“You Jokjebi pieces of shit, where are you! Get out here! You fucking bastards! You dare plant a rat in our place of business? Come out! Come out, you fucking pieces of shit!”
As the gangsters who had already run up the stairs smashed the aluminum railings, the dead plants in the pots, and the glass doors of the tangerine massage, the same Jjiksae bastards poured out of the elevator that had just stopped on the third floor.
“Hey, hey! Where’s the CEO! Im Chang-seok, you piece of shit, get out here! Fuck, you not coming out? You want to die right here!”
Terrified by the sudden intrusion and violence, employees and customers peeked through the bamboo blinds before hiding again. The Manager, who had been resting in an empty treatment room, reflexively tried to bolt but then stepped back. The two hands pulling out his phone were trembling violently.
Meanwhile, tables were overturned, glass shattered, and the screams of customers and the curses of gangsters echoed through the narrow hallway. Having found the empty counter, they began invading the treatment rooms where customers were.
Whether the terrified customers screamed or the employees were beaten for no reason, a strange light flickered across the face of the Manager, who was glancing around the room for a way to save himself. It was because President Im had answered on the fifth ring.
-What is it, calling me at this hour?
“President, I think you need to come here right now.”
-Why? Did someone screw up again?
The Manager, eyes darting anxiously, carefully scanned the wall, making sure the sounds around him didn’t leak to President Im. Room 8 also had a crawlspace. However, because the situation was urgent, the gap didn’t immediately catch his eye.
-I asked what’s going on! Wait! Hold on. What is that sound?
Despite his extreme caution, it seemed the sound had leaked through. The image of President Im narrowing his eyes over the receiver was vivid in his mind. Knowing that President Im would run away rather than rush over if he told him the truth, the Manager instead put on a nonchalant voice.
“What sound could it be? It’s just the Jokjebi guys throwing a fit because that brat Namu had a seizure.”
-A seizure? Fuck, that narcolepsy or whatever thing?
“Yes. They’re in an uproar because their fun was ruined right in the middle of it. Please come and calm them down. Even when I told them I’d put in another kid, they said their mood was ruined and they’re being total nightmares… They won’t listen to a word I say. But these guys do listen to you, President.”
-Ha, fuck. Is there nothing that kid Namu can do quietly? Wait, I’m coming right now!
Fuck, thank god Im Chang-seok is a blockhead.
As soon as the relieved Manager hung up, he clicked the latch with his fingertip. It was just as the beaming Manager hurriedly opened the crawlspace.
Crash— A gangster who had kicked the treatment table discovered the wide-open crawlspace and the Manager trying to hide in it, and smiled menacingly.
“Since you’re such a rat, I see you’ve thoughtfully dug yourself a rat hole, huh?”
“Aaaagh—!”
Before he could even push one foot in, the Manager was grabbed by the hair and dragged out of the treatment room. Near the sofa—which was too pathetic to even be called a lobby—employees and customers who had been dragged out earlier were kneeling.
They were all in a mess. Hair disheveled, clothes torn, and regardless of whether they were civilians, they had been beaten; every single one of them had something burst, broken, or twisted. Facing that sight, the Manager crawled toward the man who seemed to be the action captain, trembling.
“P-President! Please spare me! We, we don’t know anything! Really nothing…! Gack—!”
“Don’t know anything, my ass. Hyung, I dragged this piece of shit out while he was crawling into a rat hole. Looking at the state of this building, it’s full of rat holes everywhere.”
The gangster, who had smacked the Manager’s back with a baseball bat for talking nonsense, added politely to the captain.
“They said the Jokjebi action captains are having a team-building party here today…”
“Action captains, my ass. You think the guys who act as meat shields are on the same level as our Hyung?”
At the word of the right-hand man standing next to the action captain, the gangster, agreeing that he was right, immediately began to beat the Manager.
“Ack—! Ack! Gaaack! Ugh! Hic—! Gaaah! Please… spare me! S-spare…! Gaaack—!”
“Hey, who said they were killing you? You little shit, you trying to make me an attempted murderer?”
The gangster, sneering as he prepared to swing the baseball bat again, paused. The Manager, who had crawled over quickly like a cockroach, clung to his leg and shook his head violently.
“No, no, President! I! I know! The place you mentioned…! I know where it is…!”
Looking down at the Manager, who was begging and pleading with everything he had, the gangster chuckled.
“You piece of shit. You’ve got great loyalty.”
“Ugh…!”
Terrified of the bat swinging toward him, the Manager pressed himself flat and trembled. However, the bat swung through the air, not hitting the Manager.
“Lead the way.”
With a start, the Manager looked up, nodded his head as if it might break, and stood up. He staggered because he had been beaten like a dog in a short amount of time, but the Manager, gritting his teeth to survive, began to cross the narrow hallway quickly.
Fuck. Whether it was Jokjebi or Jjiksae, they were all fucking thugs. He didn’t care how Jjiksae knew and why they invaded right now, nor did he want to know. He just had to bolt while they were biting and tearing at each other. It was a good thing he had already siphoned off the money he’d embezzled bit by bit, or he would have died a dog’s death in Gamgyul City as a beggar.
Twelve Jokjebi members had entered the sauna room. There were over thirty Jjiksae members, but the ones who had taken over the sauna room were the heavy hitters of the Jokjebi Clan. They would at least buy the Manager enough time to escape.
“Boys— let’s go catch the rats! This informant here is kindly guiding us!”
Clang, clang—!
The aluminum bat scraped the walls, decorations were overturned and smashed, and the Manager’s face was covered in blood as he hurried his pace as if being chased. He had no time to care about the tears and snot he was leaking, failing to act his age. He only hurried, terrified that the dozens of feet following him would trample him.
Finally, after opening the storage room door and entering, the Manager placed his hand on the sauna room door disguised as a wall.
“Aaaagh—!”
The thug who had smashed the manager’s head with a bat kicked the door that looked like a wall—thump, thump. This kind of layout was familiar even to the Jjiksae Clan. The methods for committing illegal acts were similar everywhere. After a few more kicks, the door splintered open, and the Jjiksae bastards swarmed inside.
As the thick steam cleared, someone let out a snicker at the sight revealed. Naked members of the Jokjebi Clan were tangled together, looking as if they were clinging to one another in desperation. In reality, they had been frantically clinging to each other in a frenzy to devour a single male prostitute, but it looked just as ridiculous.
“Holy shit, I never dreamed the Jokjebi rats had a tradition of licking each other’s assholes, huh?”
At the lead thug’s remark, bursts of laughter erupted from the Jjiksae members. The Jokjebi members, belatedly realizing the situation, leaped up in a rage.
“You pieces of shit! How dare you come here…!”
“Dare? Fuck you. You bastards didn’t even have the money to buy a woman, so you were sucking each other’s assholes? What a fucking joke. You goddamn scoundrels!”
“You piece of shit! Fuck, kill them all!”
“Look at this prick trying to act tough. Today is your funeral! Wipe them all out!”
Armed with baseball bats, iron pipes, golf clubs, and even chains, the Jjiksae members charged in, screaming and swinging their weapons. The naked Jokjebi members, their faces twisted with excitement, rushed forward, swinging whatever they could get their hands on. The Jokjebi and Jjiksae Clans became entangled in a single mass, some of the Jokjebi members wielding sharp sashimi knives they had produced from nowhere.
As the violent brawl began, the narrow sauna room instantly turned into a scene of carnage. Bones shattered, blood spurted, and chunks of flesh were torn away. Desperate screams and shouts filled the air. The scent of blood permeated the hazy moisture.
In a space where collective madness exploded, Namu dragged his heavy body—scrape, scrape—and hid in a corner. It was the stirring of a survival instinct. As he backed away, his elbows and buttocks rubbed against the tiled floor until the skin peeled off.
Namu felt no pain. He simply wanted to huddle in the corner and distance himself from the atrocity unfolding before his eyes. Since he couldn’t escape, he tried to get as far away as possible. But all Namu could do was close his eyes and cover his ears. He could only curl his cold body smaller and smaller.
Chunks of flesh and hot blood splattered onto Namu. Half-delirious, Namu could feel nothing. Even in such a moment, seizures bypassed him—as if to say that no stroke of luck would ever come his way.
Sitting in the driver’s seat of the pickup truck, Jae-un was struggling to keep his restless backside still. Seong-cheol, sitting in the back seat, was staring down at his palm with a face that craved a cigarette. To be precise, he was looking at a phone that looked like a toy in his palm, which was as large as a pot lid. It was a real-time video being transmitted by Hwang-ah.
Coincidentally, the lens planted in the sauna room was filming Namu, who was cornered, head-on. The clear image showed every single small scratch on Namu. Praiseworthy in his own way, Namu, hiding his small body in the corner, looked as if he had lost his mind even through the video.
Despite this, Seong-cheol and Jae-un did not dare rush Mu-won. They knew that Namu was no longer just simple bait. However, he wasn’t an existence capable of moving Mu-won with a single word or a single scene.
Neither Jae-un nor Seong-cheol thought that would be possible. It was because they knew how Mu-won had survived in the organization. Still, the reason it weighed on their minds was that Namu was the only one who had ever moved beyond being simple bait.
“The Jjiksae guys are losing.”
At Seong-cheol’s remark, Jae-un, who had been fidgeting, pulled out his phone to check the real-time video.
The Jokjebi members, who had jumped into the fight naked, had only been losing for a short while. The narrow space and the slippery floor caused by the moisture were the variables. The Jjiksae members, who had charged in with dress shoes, either slipped on their own feet or became sluggish, drenched in the water the Jokjebi members had sprayed.
The Jokjebi members, facing weapons with their bare bodies, also suffered significant casualties, but as time passed, the tide turned in their favor. Above all, it was because of the difference in the weapons they wielded. Unlike the Jjiksae members, who had rushed in first with mere clubs, the Jokjebi members used everything from sashimi knives to axes.
They could see more Jjiksae members, having heard the news, rushing into the building. It seemed all the action captains had gathered. In their hands were not crude clubs, but weapons with razor-sharp edges.
Mu-won, sitting in the pickup truck parked some distance away and looking out the window, checked the time. The appointed hour was approaching. Ten minutes after the additional Jjiksae members disappeared into the building, President Im appeared, strolling along. Perhaps because it was about to rain, he was crossing the two-lane road with a face that looked even more irritated by the humid air.
“I’ll take that guy, Hyung.”
Before Jae-un could finish his sentence, the door on the passenger side opened. Mu-won, who stepped out of the pickup truck on time, looked directly at Jae-un, who was still reading his mood even now.
“Are you that worried about that kid?”
Startled, Jae-un rolled his eyes before meeting his Hyung’s gaze. That part required immense courage, but everything after that did not. Mu-won was quite generous toward honesty, as opposed to reckless bravado.
“Yes, Hyung. I’m worried.”
Mu-won did not twist Jae-un’s answer or misunderstand it.
He figured Jae-un was simply worried that an object his Hyung had shown a semblance of interest in might be broken beyond repair before he was done with it. And Mu-won’s guess was not wrong.
Jae-un wasn’t worried about Namu. He was merely concerned that something his usually indifferent Hyung had taken a slight interest in might break before he could finish playing with it.
“Namu really has no luck with people.”
With a light laugh, Mu-won crushed the cigarette he was smoking and headed toward the ‘tangerine massage’ building.
* * *
Before he could even finish crossing the two-lane road, President Im stopped in his tracks and recoiled. It was after he discovered that the glass door of the building, which should have been intact, was shattered. Only then did President Im sense the ominous atmosphere, but before he could instinctively turn and run, he was grabbed by Jae-un.
At the same time, Mu-won, stepping on shards of glass, walked toward the first-floor elevator. He pressed the call button and glanced up at the stairwell. Seeing that no one was bursting out of the stairs yet, it seemed the newly deployed Jjiksae members were doing their jobs reasonably well.
The elevator stopped on the first floor, opening its maw with a growl. Instead of boarding the elevator, which was as old as the building, Mu-won pressed the emergency button to block its movement entirely. This meant one of the exit routes for the thugs gathered on the third floor was now blocked.
Mu-won picked up a piece of square timber lying on the floor. Then, he stepped up the first-floor stairs. It didn’t take long to reach the third floor.
The entrance to the tangerine massage was inside the hallway. This meant he only had to stand guard opposite the entrance, where only the frame remained of the shattered glass door. It was the most efficient way to beat down every single thug who, pushed back by the offensive, was forced into the lobby and out the door.
Twelve in the sauna. Fifty-three who had rushed up from the first floor. After taking out eight while standing at the entrance of the massage shop, Mu-won stepped inside. The old carpet, which usually pretended to absorb the sound of footsteps, failed to do so entirely.
Clink—stepping on glass, rustle—stepping on something broken. The people trapped in the lobby looked up at Mu-won. Two customers, two employees. The employees were familiar. Teacher Choi and Teacher Kim. Beaten severely, their hands and feet were tied behind their backs, and they were gagged. Recognizing Mu-won, the two employees squirmed like slugs, pleading for their lives.
Treating them as mere objects, Mu-won turned toward the hallway where the brawl was in full swing. It was the direction where the dressing room, employee lounge, pantry, and laundry room were clustered. Having traversed the layout several times, Mu-won did not get lost. It also helped that the Jjiksae members, unable to hold their ground, were bursting out of the storage room.
In the narrow hallway, Mu-won accurately struck the heads of the men popping out one by one, knocking them down. Kicking aside the men piled up like corpses, he walked inside and stood before the storage room door.
About a dozen Jjiksae members, who hadn’t made it into the sauna, were surrounding the shattered wall, bleeding. Mu-won stood behind the Jjiksae members, who were unable to approach the Jokjebi members—who were swinging blood-stained blades like madmen—and were merely hissing and threatening like cornered snakes.
By the time a few Jjiksae members at the front, who were keeping the half-crazed Jokjebi members at bay with their knives, felt a sense of incongruity, it was already too late. The eleven Jjiksae members who had been guarding their rear were slumped over, their necks snapped or their heads crushed. The four Jjiksae members who widened their eyes in shock at the sudden situation were also struck in their vitals and collapsed before they could even see Mu-won’s face.
Tossing aside the now-useless timber, Mu-won leaned forward and entered the sauna room. Of the twenty Jjiksae members who had first stormed in, eighteen were lying flat, stabbed; four of the twelve Jokjebi members were also sprawled out with their eyes rolled back.
“You, who the fuck are you! Fuck! You bastards! Who are you! Are you someone the boss sent too? Fuck, you piece of—! The boss? That son of a bitch betrayed us! He’s trying to bury us all!”
It seemed they mistakenly believed that the one who sent the Jjiksae members was the Jokjebi Clan boss they trusted and followed. Mu-won hadn’t specifically plotted that far, but it was a welcome misunderstanding. Above all, taking out those who had been weakened by killing each other after falling for a ruse was easier for Mu-won than twisting a child’s arm.
Silence finally descended upon the sauna room, which had been filled with every kind of noise a human could make. Even so, it wasn’t a perfect silence. Drip, drip. The irregular sound of either blood or water falling. The squelching sound every time a foot stepped on the floor where blood had pooled.
In that strange stillness, Namu was frozen. At some point, he had lost the strength to cover his ears or keep his eyes closed, leaving him fully exposed to the carnage pouring in. He could no longer distinguish the boundary between reality and unreality.
Mu-won slit the throat of a man who was in the way and moved forward. He pushed aside the men tangled together with his dress shoes and walked a few more steps. Namu was where Mu-won stopped. Mu-won knelt on one knee before Namu, who was clinging to the corner of the wall like a stain, barely breathing.
“…”
Dazed eyes, as if covered by an opaque film, followed Mu-won’s movements. But that was all; they didn’t fully capture Mu-won. In those pale-colored, large irises and the glass-bead-like pupils at the center, what was reflected was not Mu-won, but something in the shape of a human. Staring intently into those eyes, Mu-won spoke.
“Namu.”
Namu’s round, long eyelids didn’t even twitch.
“Namu.”
Mu-won called him once more. Still, there was no response. Mu-won fell silent for a moment. However, this time, he had no intention of calling Namu awake in a different way.
He had no intention of treating Namu like ice that melts easily even under a cheap match flame—someone who would respond whenever called because he craved affection or missed the kin who had called him so in life.
Mu-won had his own way of possessing what was his. To respond only to Mu-won’s call, to follow only the warmth Mu-won gave, and to comply with everything Mu-won provided.
That was what ‘mine’ meant to Mu-won. Even if he grew tired of ‘mine’ or found it cumbersome. Mu-won had his own way of possessing what was his.
“Namu.”
“…”
Namu was truly pitiful, wretched, and miserable. After only—only three calls—Namu found Mu-won. Without any resistance or refusal. Just as lightly accumulated snow melts, rather than ice. Suddenly, light entered Namu’s eyes as they captured Mu-won.
Slowly waking up, Namu was recognizing Mu-won.
“Guest…?”
“Are you awake?”
“Yes…”
As Namu answered obediently, his pupils dilated loosely.
“…Are you… hurt?”
Namu’s voice trembled slightly as he took in Mu-won’s face, which was now splattered with blood. Mu-won did not let that trembling last long.
“No.”
Adding a soft curve to his lips, he added,
“You’re the one who’s hurt.”
“Ah…”
Only then did the blurred memories in Namu’s head begin to take shape as he looked down at himself.
“…”
The trembling in his voice spread through his entire body. Mu-won, silently watching Namu turn pale as if he might collapse at any moment, asked.
“Does it hurt?”
“…Yes.”
“Which part do you think hurts more?”
“…Both…”
Namu’s pronunciation was imprecise because his mouth had been torn from being beaten so much. That did not hinder Mu-won’s understanding. Being beaten and being sexually violated. Namu was saying both hurt. Finally.
“…”
His body, not covered by a single piece of cloth, trembled like an aspen leaf. Looking at the body covered in bruises, bite marks, and constriction marks, Mu-won took off his jacket. Soon, the black jacket covered Namu. Without a single gap.
Namu, startled slightly, lifted his clouded eyes to find Mu-won. Then, suddenly, he dropped his gaze. At the end of his sight was red blood. It was dripping, drip, drip, from the edge of the jacket covering Namu.
“Ah…”
The jacket draped over his shoulders was heavy. It wasn’t simply because the size was too large. The jacket, warm with Mu-won’s remaining heat, was soaked. It wasn’t just holding moisture and water. Blood—blood that had drenched the jacket—was seeping out and staining Namu’s bare skin. Not Mu-won’s, nor Namu’s. Red blood, from someone unknown, dampened Namu’s skin.
Realizing this, Namu froze like thin ice about to break. Staring at that minute change, Mu-won spoke.
“Do you want to take it off?”
“…”
It took some time for Mu-won’s voice to travel through the outer ear and reach Namu’s mind. Namu could do nothing. Without a word or a gesture, he simply remained motionless. Mu-won, not even clicking his tongue at that passive affirmation, reached out.
The moment his hand was about to touch the jacket, Namu flinched his shoulders. It seemed as if he were avoiding the touch, but instead, he buried himself deeper into the jacket and slowly shook his head.
That small gesture only soaked Namu further. The red blood stained his fine hairs deeply. Mu-won’s kindness was not flawless. The recipient of that kindness would not remain flawless either. Namu could instinctively tell what that meant. Nevertheless, he did not push away Mu-won’s kindness.
“Namu.”
“…Yes.”
“This is the only way I do things.”
“…”
Suddenly, Namu’s field of vision began to widen, centering on Mu-won. The space overflowing with blood, the sight of bodies piled up, unknown if they were alive or dead, reminded him of a dog cemetery. Being thrown into a dog cemetery, or building a dog cemetery. That was the way Mu-won had lived. It was the real world of Mu-won that Namu did not know.
“Do you still like me?”
Plop, a clear tear rolled down Namu’s cheek. Mu-won, watching Namu who hadn’t even noticed his own tear, wiped it away. A red bloodstain remained exactly where he had wiped. Like a boundary line drawn on purpose. If it were now, he could step back without crossing this line. Mu-won was telling him that. As if testing him. As if admonishing him.
“Even if I had used a different bait instead of you before you got hurt, the plan would have succeeded. The reason I didn’t was simply because I had no reason to.”
“…”
“Because you aren’t my priority, Namu.”
It also meant he would never be a priority in the future.
“And yet, the reason I’m doing this now is…”
“Because… the guest… is a good person…?”
Mu-won did not gauge whether this was Namu’s wish or his sincerity. There was no need. He simply looked down at the clear, pooling eyes and smiled. Then, he slightly pulled his upper body back from the close distance. It was only about 3cm, but it felt as if he had moved far away, making Namu’s heart sink. He instinctively tried to follow Mu-won but hesitated.
Squelch—splat—thud—squish—slop.
Sounds that varied depending on the weight echoed in Namu’s ears. With his widened vision, he could see behind Mu-won. Perhaps Mu-won had pulled his face back to tell him to look more clearly at what was behind him.
“…”
Even after seeing what he was told to look at, Namu did not know the exact meaning and looked to Mu-won.
“Guest…”
“Im Chang-seok, Ahn Dong-woo, Jo Sang-hyeok, Kim Jeong-ok.”
Every time Mu-won called out a name, Namu’s shoulders flinched. They were behind Mu-won. Dragged in by Jae-un and tossed down one by one like chunks of meat, they were gagged and bound like animals. They were not strangers to Namu.
“Jo Sang-hyeok. The owner of the watch Namu-ssi broke. You claimed 100 million won, right? But that watch was exactly 270,000 won. A cheap knockoff that didn’t even cost 300,000 won.”
“…….”
“Im Chang-seok. CEO of ‘Tangerine Massage.’ Ahn Dong-woo, Manager of ‘Tangerine Massage.’ You both joined Jo Sang-hyeok’s fraud knowing full well. To rip off Namu-ssi. You planned to suck him dry until there was nothing left, use him like a rag, and when he was useless even as a rag, make a huge killing through media business. Do you know what media business is?”
Namu, who had been spacing out, shook his head.
“You put Namu-ssi in front of a camera and show the perverts of the world exactly what they want in real-time. For 1 dollar, a fingernail might be ripped out; for 10 dollars, a fist might be shoved into his backside until it stretches; for 50 dollars, dozens of cocks….”
“No….”
Mu-won shut his mouth, just as Namu wanted.
“No, sir…. I don’t want to hear it…. I… I don’t want to hear it….”
Watching the tears flow silently, Mu-won complied.
“Kim Jeong-ok, Teacher Kim. You snitched to President Im about the secret hole in Room 7. Why? Because you wanted to kick Namu-ssi out and take over the small room.”
“Sir….”
“Do they still seem like good people to you?”
“Sir….”
“There are no good people for Namu-ssi.”
“…….”
“There are no good people for a stupid brat like you—weak, naive, and without a shred of malice or grit.”
“…….”
“Do I still look like a good person to you?”
“You saved me….”
A hint of a smile touched the corners of Mu-won’s eyes.
“You… saved me.”
“Because you were useful.”
He knew. Namu knew. That was why he didn’t expect anything. He didn’t hope that Mu-won would suddenly appear and save him like before. He waited for the feelings of affection to naturally melt away.
The only good thing about the pain of the past two weeks was that he had almost no time to think of Mu-won. There weren’t many things that could overcome physical agony and mental exhaustion. Yet, whenever a tiny gap opened, Namu thought of his Grandfather, and he thought of Mu-won. Because he still—he still liked Mu-won.
Looking into Namu’s transparent heart, Mu-won stood up. Hot tears pooled again in Namu’s eyes as he watched Mu-won, who was truly distancing himself this time.
Squelch, squelch. Every time Mu-won stepped into a pool of blood, a wet sound echoed through the quiet sauna room. He stopped in front of the people Namu had believed were good, the people he had leaned on, even if only a little.
Thrown into a scene of hell, they held their breath. Namu’s eyes met those of one of them. The face instantly contorted with fear. Eyes consumed by terror clung desperately to Namu.
Save me. Please help me. What you heard isn’t true. Please save me. They pleaded desperately, clinging to the powerless Namu. That man’s head was the first to be stepped on.
“Gugh—!”
Thud— Mu-won crushed the Manager’s head in one go, putting his full weight into his shoe. Crack— Even as he ground the facial bones into powder, Mu-won kept both hands in his trouser pockets. Stopping the act, which showed neither amusement nor excitement, Mu-won looked down beside him. Namu had crawled over and was clutching Mu-won’s trouser leg. He wasn’t hanging on with his whole body weight; he was simply gripping the hem tightly with both hands.
“Sir….”
Mu-won, having expected this, scoffed inwardly. He felt it was ridiculous, even to himself, to do this to such a spineless child.
Well, that’s why I got interested in something like this.
Something so incredibly weak that it couldn’t survive a single moment without the help of others.
“Gurgle….”
Mu-won kicked the suffocating Manager away like a ball and tilted his head slightly. Namu, who was trembling and streaming tears, was naked again. Dark red blood covered the marks of being beaten, bitten, and constricted. Looking down at the sight, which was almost eerie, Mu-won crouched down to meet Namu’s eyes again.
“Namu-ssi, don’t you hate that bastard?”
“…I… I hate him….”
“Don’t you dislike him?”
“I… dislike him….”
“Don’t you want to give back as much as you received?”
“…….”
“What should I do for you?”
A surprisingly gentle hand brushed Namu’s wet hair behind his ear.
“Tell me. I’ll do whatever Namu-ssi wants. However, no forgiveness.”
“…….”
“I don’t do things like that.”
Only the ceaselessly flowing tears were not soaked in blood or pooling red. Watching the line he had drawn split along the tear tracks, Mu-won wiped the tears away again. A red mark remained.
Satisfied, Mu-won picked up his discarded jacket and draped it over Namu’s shoulders. This time, he fastened every single button. Namu, struggling to lift his swollen, wet, heavy eyelashes, parted his lips. A moan smaller than a word leaked out first.
“Sir…, you… you don’t like me….”
Having fastened the last button, Mu-won looked up. At a distance where their noses almost touched, Mu-won’s eyes were as dark as a pitch-black night. The smile dwelling in those eyes was not an emotion. Namu could tell it was simply part of a trained expression.
“Then why… why….”
“Namu-ssi likes me.”
“…….”
“Even knowing that I’m a human butcher and a third-rate gangster, Namu-ssi will still like me.”
Mu-won whispered, pulling up the oversized jacket that was slipping off.
“It’s not that I dislike Namu-ssi. I just don’t like you.”
“…….”
“That’s why I intend to keep using you, but those bastards keep leaving scratches. On someone else’s property.”
Because he felt bad about that, he did that to people….
As if grabbing Namu’s incomprehending consciousness, Mu-won tapped his cheek with a fingertip and locked eyes.
“Even if I get Namu-ssi out of here, nothing changes. You’ll still be a debtor. Instead of the debt, you’ll be beaten to death, or rolled around in a brothel until you’re a rag and then thrown away. Just like that dog you dragged out of the grave.”
Namu’s wavering pupils widened helplessly.
How… how does he know that….
With a smirk, Mu-won wiped away the flowing tears and retraced the bloodstains that kept being erased.
“Namu-ssi, keep liking me. You won’t have to work with a body that collapses anywhere just to pay back a few pennies of debt, and you won’t have to offer your body to any fucking bastard and get beaten. You won’t have to spread your legs worrying about being gang-raped.”
“…….”
“If you come with me.”
A tender hand repeatedly wiped Namu’s tears.
“In exchange, don’t hope for anything. Don’t expect anything from me.”
Calloused fingertips caressed the soft outer rim of his ear. Mu-won’s hot breath touched that spot.
“Keep acting easy for bastards like those. Stepping on and killing vermin is nothing.”
The breath, now receding, lingered at the tip of Namu’s nose.
“Do you want to keep living the way you lived here?”
The falling tears were erased once more by Mu-won’s fingertips.
“Or do you want to come with me?”
The way I lived here….
Namu, who was crying as if he were about to collapse but couldn’t let out a single sob, asked.
“Until… when?”
“Until I get tired of Namu-ssi.”
Looking up at Mu-won, who was smiling just like he had that dawn the first day they met, Namu blinked.
“Yes….”
He answered, barely opening his clouded eyes.
“I will…. I will, sir….”
“…….”
“Please… don’t leave me here….”
Alone… just alone….
“I hate it…. I hate that….”
Mu-won, who had expected this as well, nodded.
“Alright.”
However, he no longer hugged or comforted Namu. Namu’s eyes, following Mu-won as he moved away, blurred and cleared repeatedly. Walking through the blood, Mu-won stopped in front of someone. It was Jae-un, but Namu didn’t recognize him.
“Take the kid out.”
“Yes, Hyung-nim.”
Jae-un answered concisely and added one more thing.
“What should we do about Superintendent Seo?”
Mu-won, already turning his back to Jae-un, looked down at the tiled floor where blood flowed like a river and replied.
“Call him when the job is done.”
“Yes, Hyung-nim.”
Answering politely, Jae-un grabbed and lifted Namu, who had barely managed to sit up. Relying on Jae-un’s strength, Namu left the sauna room as if being dragged.
All that remained in the cramped, humid sauna room were Mu-won and the sprawled bodies on the floor. Silently scanning the lumps of flesh that were still gurgling with breath, Mu-won moved. A guber knife was now held in his hand, which had been neatly wiped. The blade gleamed sharply under the lights.
* * *