By Zephyria Jin Mu-hae doesn’t associate with mercenaries.
Even though he himself had spent a long time in the mercenary business. Rather, because he knew mercenaries well, he didn’t interact with them more than necessary.
They were all problematic people. Especially if they survived in this industry for more than five years without dying? They developed quirks that made them unsettling.
From guys who would drop whatever they were doing and rush to destroy ownerless objects or facilities with their bare hands, to bastards who savored the sensation of being chased by an Aberrant, to guys who would bet all their money on illegal cockfights and watch…
Recently, he even saw a crazy bastard who got excited over wild flowers. He stayed in Teacher Jung’s clinic for five days, ranting about whether or not to cut off the poisoned part, and the thought of what he might have done made Mu-hae feel nauseous.
Not all mercenaries were like that, but most of them were generally bad news, and Jin Mu-hae lived his life keeping a reasonable distance from such people.
Because it felt unpleasant.
But…
“Haa, fuck.”
A deep sense of self-loathing enveloped him. Mu-hae washed his wet hands with water, constantly spitting out curses.
He could still feel a tingling sensation running through the tendons of his arm. As if the moment of excessive excitement a little while ago was not a lie.
Was he crazy? Had he gone that far out of his mind using that insane bastard as a substitute? The belated reason tore at his ears.
Even thinking about it again, it was insane. He even felt a pleasure he wanted to deny.
In an instant, he seemed to have recalled all sorts of things, from red lips to smooth skin, to a sweet fragrance.
What was it about him that made his eyes roll back in his head…
“Shit.”
It must be because he was so pent up. He had been stressed by all sorts of things, but he hadn’t relieved his desires for a while.
In that situation, he would have come twice without any imagination. It was just that the image of that crazy bastard, who was always with him, had seeped in as he pleased.
As Mu-hae rationalized it that way, the moment of excitement, so intensely thrilling, flashed through his mind again. His figure, with his head slowly rising, was reflected in the mirror.
His face, looking as fierce and menacing as if he were about to cut someone to pieces, was flushed with heat.
Staring at his eyes, which were red again with blood rushing to them, Jin Mu-hae felt a chill.
Does he… need someone after all?
‘Take good care of your lower body, Mu-hae. It’ll rot.’
Teacher Jung would often give him startling advice with a smiling face from early on.
People like us don’t get any support from the City. You have to take care of it yourself. He would mutter, glancing in the direction where Sakdal was.
By the time the advice came to use a tool for safety, Mu-hae, feeling uncomfortable, had left the clinic pretending to be busy, but anyway, he had more than understood the gist.
In this kind of bad neighborhood, those who are liberal with their sexual morals, regardless of gender or age, all have a disease.
There’s no need to put yourself in danger to compulsively relieve your desires.
His stomach churned for a few hours.
When Joo-oh, whom he had sent out alone, returned with the item replaced in good condition and called out to Jin Mu-hae from outside the bathroom, he felt annoyed.
When you think about it, it was all because of Joo-oh. A crazy bastard suddenly intruded into his normal and quiet life. That’s why he was feeling this uncomfortable unpleasantness now.
“Should I go into the room?”
However, hearing the subdued voice asking, Mu-hae felt pathetic for spouting sophistry.
Joo-oh was just thoughtless and strange as always. It wasn’t like him to vent his anger on someone who didn’t even know what the problem was.
Besides, that’s what sexual desire was like in the first place. It was closer to an impulse than reason, illogical and bizarre.
Once his thoughts were somewhat organized, he was finally able to calm down. He dismissed what had happened during the day as a simple incident and began to treat Joo-oh as usual again.
“This is delicious.”
Right. How could he feel strange about a person who swallowed ten servings of scrambled eggs with such an indifferent expression?
Mu-hae, relieved by the peace he had regained, poked at the limp thawed vegetables with a fork.
He naturally ignored Joo-oh’s gaze, which kept stealing glances at him.
“The real Jin Mu-hae doesn’t know.”
Even the nonsense was filtered out by his ears.
The confusion didn’t last long. Jin Mu-hae was too busy to fill his head with cheap thoughts.
[I have something to say, so come if you have time.]
For some reason, Director Gil had summoned him late in the evening.
Of course, that didn’t mean he wanted him to come right away, but Jin Mu-hae, feeling stifled, impulsively left the house.
He took Joo-oh with him, who was watching his mood and hurriedly putting on his hood. It was a dark night with a bad atmosphere, so he pretended not to notice Joo-oh clinging to his arm.
“I didn’t mean for you to come right now, ahem.”
A voice, completely worn out, was heard through the shutter that was slowly rising.
Director Gil’s face, greeting Mu-hae, was withered, as if he had a health problem.
“…Do you have a cold? Why don’t you go to Teacher Jung?”
“I don’t know. It’s nothing, so don’t call him.”
Joo-oh rolled his eyes and chimed in next to Director Gil, who waved his hand dismissively.
“He has a fever.”
“He says he has a fever.”
“He just held back a cough.”
“That’s what he says.”
“Cough, what are you guys saying.”
Director Gil, who eventually coughed up a dry cough, slumped weakly onto the sofa.
His eyes were spinning, which was more than he had said. He blinked his eyelids repeatedly.
“Do you think I called you here to diagnose my health? I contacted you because of the signal device.”
Director Gil shook his head as if to shake it off, and opened his mouth in a voice that was even more submerged than before.
“…Is there a problem?”
“Yeah. It’s not serious, but suddenly my body is like this.”
Answering, he ran his calloused hand over his face. He seemed to be in worse condition than he thought, mixing groans with his words.
“There’s one part missing. It’s not a difficult item to get.”
“I guess it’s expensive.”
“So-so. But the price isn’t the problem.”
Perhaps sensing that the conversation would be lengthy, Director Gil sighed heavily.
Looking like he wanted to lie down on the floor any minute, he slowly began to explain.
“Mu-hae, you know I’m on Central’s radar, right?”
“Yeah, well.”
“Still, things have worked out well, so I’m even repairing weapons as a subversive… but I have to report special parts in advance every time I buy them. It’s not even dangerous. It’s kind of petty.”
“What’s missing?”
“R-T-M-M again 10554 again A-T… no. What’s the point of knowing all this. Gamma47. Something smaller than a pinky nail.”
“So, to get it right away, it’s difficult to buy it through normal channels.”
“Yeah. I even have to write down the intended use in detail, and it’s not easy to make excuses for that item.”
In short, he had to get it through an unauthorized transaction somewhere.
As someone who worked at an Electronic Store, Director Gil had made arrangements to get it in his own way, but his physical condition suddenly deteriorated, making it difficult for him to step forward.
“So it’s going to take some time to complete. If I miss this deal, I’ll have to wait at least another month, no matter how fast I am.”
“Then I’ll just go.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not? It’s not like I haven’t done back-alley deals while working as a mercenary. It’s not a big deal.”
Despite Mu-hae’s nonchalant attitude, Director Gil had a serious look on his face.
His hands, which had been languidly relaxed, were clenched into fists at some point.
“Have you ever seen me go into the residential area?”
“I don’t know.”
“No, you idiot! Because I can’t go.”
The shout he blurted out cracked pathetically. Director Gil, who coughed up a few more dry coughs, leaned back on the sofa, muttering.
“Your dad’s criminal record is still there, but that doesn’t mean it’s yours.”
“I know what you’re worried about.”
“If you know, stay still. Just remember that it’ll be a little late, and I’ll take care of it.”
He cut off Mu-hae’s words firmly and gasped for breath.
He was so adamant that he looked like he would jump out and grab the deal even with his ailing body.
But at that moment.
“What are you going to take care of? In that state.”
Someone pushed open the door and strode in. Director Gil’s eyes widened at the familiar voice.
A man with a long scar on his face chuckled and approached Mu-hae.
His eyes, without his glasses, were extremely sharp.
“I called him. He was acting like a sick chicken.”
“This bastard…”
“This bastard and that bastard, go into the room. Don’t show me your ugly side.”
It seemed that Mu-hae wasn’t the only one who had a hard time refusing Teacher Jung’s words. Bewilderment crossed Director Gil’s stubborn face.
Director Gil, hesitating, got up from the sofa and walked into the bedroom as if being pushed. He looked back helplessly, having no strength left to resist, and suddenly met eyes with Joo-oh, who was watching the whole scene from the corner.
“…Come to think of it, that guy.”
“Huh?”
“Cough, you know how to say what you’re told, right?”
The voice, which had been wheezing and dying, took on an ominous vitality.