By Zephyria 
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“Jin Mu-hae. I think this is bent.”
“Damn it…”
As expected, the morning was filthy and hectic. Once he regained his senses and looked at the living room, it was a sight too gruesome to behold.
Dirty clothes and sheets could simply be washed, and scattered items could be easily tidied up, but the problem was the bed, which had been creaking and making ominous noises since the day before.
He had felt the mattress sink at the very end, so he thought replacing just that would suffice, but in reality, the steel frame had taken the brunt of the damage.
‘Of all things.’
Even though it was steel, it was a cheap piece of furniture that had been used for at least ten years. Since it wasn’t new when he first got it, it might have lived as long as Mu-hae himself.
With two adult men tossing and turning on it for hours, putting immense load on it, the weld at the bottom left joint had been catastrophically crushed.
“What do we do?”
“Throw it away.”
Fortunately, in a poverty-stricken neighborhood like this, the method for disposing of old furniture was brutally simple and easy.
You just left it outside the door. Then, from chairs with broken legs to electronic devices turned into charcoal, every piece of junk that seemed beyond rehabilitation was swept up by beggars in similar straits.
It was annoying that even things he didn’t intend to throw away would vanish in the blink of an eye if left outside, but…
Regardless, scrap metal was trash with many uses. He could have given it to Director Gil right away, and the man likely would have taken it to his warehouse, but after showing him that kind of scene the day before, Mu-hae had absolutely no intention of advertising his broken bed.
Thanks to that, the morning passed in a blur. The satisfied atmosphere was ruined only after he belatedly checked his Link Watch.
Beep—.
The debt he had incurred to find Joo-oh flew in as an unlucky message.
Jin Mu-hae silently examined the Watch, then glanced toward the sofa.
“What?”
The guy watching TV noticed the gaze like a ghost and met his eyes. Knowing full well it wasn’t a proposal that would be accepted, Mu-hae tried it anyway while he was still in a good mood.
“Do you want to watch TV while I step out for a bit?”
“No.”
“Right.”
Of course he wouldn’t. It was a pointless attempt. The gaze that had been quietly fixed on the TV shifted entirely toward him.
Mu-hae rubbed the back of his head in irritation and turned around.
He had to go to Sakdal. If possible, he didn’t want to present him before that blue-headed bastard, but despite appearances, Joo-oh was a mysterious creature of persistence and obsession.
If he could have left him behind, he would have kept him locked in the house from the start while he went on commissions.
“…Get dressed.”
“The sun hasn’t set yet.”
“So you know where we’re going?”
“Jin Mu-hae, your face looks menacing.”
Joo-oh was infuriatingly clueless when it was actually necessary, but in times like this, he was ghost-like in his quickness. Mu-hae wondered if he developed intuition selectively, or if he knew everything and just pretended not to from time to time.
Then again, Joo-oh had been visibly displeased every time he stopped by Sakdal. Since he was a guy who always watched only him even with a blank face, it might be natural for him to notice this much.
“The new one, the hood is too big.”
“Just wear it. I’ll fix it for you.”
Unlike Mu-hae, who felt uneasy about the sudden schedule, Joo-oh seemed quite happy. Humming a tune to himself, he dashed into the study, got dressed, and came out.
Decent pants, a face hidden deep under the hood. This was acceptable.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been to Sakdal.”
“Do you like that neighborhood?”
“It’s fun. There’s a lot to see.”
After needlessly dusting off the clothes Joo-oh had dressed himself in, Mu-hae also put on his outdoor wear.
After appearing in the media a few times, he now chose decent coats when moving around the city, but Sakdal was the exception.
With no knowing when something might explode, he had no intention of restricting his movements with a fluttering coat or a neat jumper.
A leather jacket, still intact despite several repairs, flexibly wrapped around Mu-hae’s upper body.
“Don’t cut into the conversation today.”
“Why? I’m good at talking.”
“It’s not your business, so just stay quiet, whether you’re eating candy or staring into space.”
Cheong always used Joo-oh to grate on people’s nerves. Since he would obviously do it this time too, Mu-hae warned him in advance.
Hmm. He made a sound as if agreeing. It wasn’t a clean answer like “Yes!” or “Okay!”, which was slightly suspicious.
Sakdal in broad daylight was unpleasant because the gazes of people were felt too clearly.
His nape felt ticklish from the train station, and before they even reached the building in the center, four unfamiliar men came to meet them.
“What brings you to send an escort all the way here?”
“The atmosphere has been poor lately, so I was instructed to escort you carefully.”
Indeed, the entertainment district he had stepped into for the first time in several weeks was strangely ominous, even though it was before business hours.
There were no people peeking outside, and even the cafes were firmly closed.
Well, he had no intention of spending time on the street anyway. Mu-hae obediently followed them into Cheong’s building.
After taking the VIP elevator and passing through a maze-like corridor, Cheong’s office was located in a completely different position than before.
“Welcome. You’re later than I thought?”
A man sitting lazily with both legs up on the desk cracked his neck as he turned his head.
The same blue hair, strand by strand; the shitty canines revealed when he laughed loudly.
Unfortunately, it seemed he had been doing well without any illness. He had apparently thrown away the cast he was wearing, as both dangling arms were intact.
“Sit. I put some effort into it today.”
A dining table, which never showed its face when only Mu-hae visited, was placed annoyingly in the middle of the room.
As if he had been waiting, Joo-oh rushed over and plopped down into a classically designed chair.
“There are three chairs today?”
At the inexplicable question, Cheong smirked. Feeling as though they were speaking in a way only the two of them understood, Mu-hae felt his mood sour right from the start.
“I have no intention of leisurely having a meal.”
“Why are you acting like someone who’s visiting for the first time? The pet will probably eat everything anyway.”
The term used to call Joo-oh had changed. Since he had disappeared for over a month before being recovered, perhaps he was being treated as a wild animal.
When Cheong approached and signaled, all sorts of food were lined up on the table. While Joo-oh looked as if he would drool like someone who had been starved for three days, Cheong was looking only at Mu-hae.
The smile appearing at the corners of his mouth was not welcome at all. The value of the ‘80,000 Deal’ he had rambled about when receiving the information felt like it had belatedly become a heavy, blank contract pressing down on his chest.
“I’ll tell you now. I don’t intend to allocate too much time.”
“Isn’t that something I, the receiver, should decide, not you? Well, it’s fine. I hate it when repayments are dragged out too.”
Cheong reached out nonchalantly and picked up a steaming french fry. He met the eyes of the anxious Joo-oh and moved his lips as if telling him to take it.
Joo-oh quickly opened his mouth like a baby bird, but then glanced at Mu-hae. Wisely, the upper body that had been leaning toward Cheong slid back to its original position.
“I can eat it myself.”
“Hahaha!”
Cheong burst into laughter at the sight of Joo-oh fumbling with the utensils. The way he slapped his knees, finding it so funny, was irritating.
Mu-hae flinched slightly when the fork came near him, but Cheong crossed his legs again and resumed the interrupted conversation.
“Do you know? Even if they roll into Sakdal with a similar level of debt, those who lived close to central somehow manage to take care of themselves. They pay off their debts at a moderate pace and eventually cast off the yoke they wore. Why do you think that is?”
It was clearly a question in the form of an inquiry, but one where there was no will to hear an answer. Cheong was sucking on a glass straw and watching Joo-oh again.
‘Because there are more ways to use them.’
The unspoken answer floated through Mu-hae’s mind.
Compared to lives that were already miserable, there would be more useful aspects to exploit, from connections to abilities. It was clearly a remark aimed at him.
“I keep my promises. A task that probably isn’t dangerous, and at least shows a value of about 80,000 Deal to me. I’ll give you a request exactly of that level, so I hope you follow it without mistakes.”
“As long as it doesn’t cause harm, I will perform it diligently.”
“Shouldn’t you perform it even if it causes harm? It’s a whole 80,000 Deal. Ah, I don’t mean I’m going to cause harm.”
Cheong waved away Joo-oh’s glancing gaze. He exhaled a pungent smoke and leaned his arm on the table.
“As you’ve felt, the atmosphere around here isn’t great lately. Some variables have cropped up. Seriously, some of them are almost like natural disasters.”
“Get to the point.”
“But it seems I can use you quite handily for this. There’s an item needed for walking the tightrope. I need you to find it.”
Tap, slide.
A palm-sized pad slid across the table.
[…I have looked into it, but I judge it to be difficult to make contact directly from this side. Reliable personnel to replace the existing ones are needed. Related information is attached below.]
[T-47. The target’s sole informant is presumed to reside in the Garam district. Sensitive to approach and is a person connected to central…]
T-47. A target with an unknown naming convention, with neither form nor size recorded.
If it was information, it would be closer to a manager of Sakdal than a mere mercenary, yet it was something Cheong could not access but believed Mu-hae had a chance of obtaining…
While Mu-hae remained silent to discern the other’s intentions, the only sound in the quiet office was the crunching of something being eaten.
Did he tell him to just stare into space for nothing? While Joo-oh was swallowing food, he was truly blankly scanning the empty air.
Mu-hae scrolled down the pad screen and suddenly stopped his hand. If he wasn’t mistaken, he thought he had just seen a familiar name.
[…For the sake of, conduct the investigation through the following target: Olga…]
Damn it. He wasn’t mistaken.
“Olga Belova.”
“You seem to know her?”
At Cheong’s voice, asking with a loathsome pretense of ignorance, the sun-patterned bracelet shimmered in Mu-hae’s vision like a hallucination.
195 – Became a Monstrous Entity in a Ruined Game