Three Eight-Chapter 15

"Wh-why are you betting yourself?"

"Because I'm money, and money flows from me."

Mu-gyeong shrugged and laid down another card. Hongju hesitantly looked at the new card in his hand. March... and—

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"......"

The Gwang character glared back at him from the top-left corner. Three-Eight Gwang-Ttang. One of the highest-ranking hands in Seotda, capable of sweeping up any pot.

Hongju flicked his eyes upward, studying Mu-gyeong. He barely reacted, simply checking his own cards before placing them facedown on the makeshift table.

"Neither of us has anything else to bet, so let’s call it. I have five-kkut."

The black-gloved fingers flipped his cards. Five-kkut. Confirming Mu-gyeong’s hand, Hongju turned over his own.

"Three-Eight Gwang-Ttang. I win this round."

"Gu Hongju, you got a good hand."

Mu-gyeong picked up the ballpoint pen sitting on the box and tucked it lightly behind Hongju’s left ear.

Hongju instinctively held onto it before it could fall.

"What do you want to do with it?"

The smirk on Mu-gyeong’s lips deepened the dimples at the corners of his mouth.

When he smiled like that, he didn’t seem so terrifying after all.

For a moment, it was hard to believe this was the same man who had slapped him across the face just days ago.

Hongju reached for his ear, pulling the pen away.

"It was just practice. I didn’t actually win anything. Anyway, that’s how you play Seotda."

He shoved the pen back into his pocket and hurriedly gathered the scattered cards. His hands moved with visible urgency.

"Haha."

Mu-gyeong let out a low laugh.

The sound echoed through the empty gambling house, reverberating all the way to Hongju’s ears.

***

Perhaps Guppping’s pride had been hurt after Mu-gyeong all but threatened to pull his investment.

Lately, he had been hitting the tables hard, dragging Doksu along with him.

Everyone in the house knew his plan—he was hoping to win big enough to outweigh Mu-gyeong’s investment, then turn around and stab him in the back.

Of course, the only person not fooled by this was Mu-gyeong himself.

"They’re still playing Seotda with Doksu?"

Even when Mu-gyeong didn’t summon him, Hongju made regular visits to the end room in the hallway.

Usually every two hours or so.

Most of the time, the updates were the same.

An hour ago, a regular gambler had brought in a rich sucker, and Guppping had wasted no time sinking his teeth into him.

Despite primarily managing the rigging of games, Guppping played often—though mostly as a loser, deliberately throwing games to bait players into bigger bets.

But today, he had even yanked a resting Doksu into the action.

Seemed like he was really hoping for a big payday.

"Looks like he’s got his straw buried deep."

Mu-gyeong wiped the rim of his beer can with a tissue before taking a sip.

It reminded Hongju of how he always placed a handkerchief down before sitting, how he avoided touching dirty surfaces.

That kind of cleanliness suited him better than this filthy gambling den.

"Tell him not to bother chasing losses. If he doesn't want to run this place into the ground, he should know when to walk away."

Mu-gyeong never gambled, yet he always spoke like someone who had mastered the game.

"They’re playing with Doksu. He won’t lose."

"And why would he be any different?"

Mu-gyeong emptied his can in one go. His throat bobbed sharply as he swallowed, and Hongju swallowed his own dryly.

He’d have to stop by the convenience store later for some water.

"Anyway, when’s Gu Madam’s backer coming?"

"Backer?"

"Yeah. Everything around here is being redeveloped, but he’s held on this long. That means he’s got someone protecting him. Doesn’t seem like it’s just luck."

"Why... are you interested in that?"

Hongju blinked in surprise.

"Every time I try to prod him, he just clams up and says it's nothing. I already knew this place was dirty when I got involved, but... it’s better to know whether we’re standing in mud or shit."

"......"

"The way he tries so hard to keep it under wraps just makes me more curious."

His tone was casual, but the sharp glint in his eyes said otherwise.

This wasn’t just a random question.

"Gu Hongju. You know something."

There was no way Hongju wouldn’t know.

He had been here every step of the way, watching as Guppping drove out contractors one after another, doing whatever it took to keep the gambling house running.

And Mu-gyeong could see right through him.

"You know you need to back the right horse to make it out of this, so why hesitate?"

He tilted his head back and finished the last of his beer.

Hongju bit his lip, glancing out the door to check their surroundings.

There were people walking past, but no one paying attention to them.

He scanned the hallway again, then cautiously stepped closer.

"There are some gangs Guppping’s close with."

He moistened his lips, his voice lowering.

"If they try to demolish this place, Guppping calls in their help and... stages ‘accidents’ for the workers. Then construction gets shut down under some legal loophole."

The words tumbled out in a rush, his heart hammering.

It was the first time he had ever spoken about the house’s secrets so openly.

"They buy time like that, hold out, and eventually, the compensation payout gets higher. Didn’t exactly go the way they planned, though..."

"I thought he was an idiot, but he’s got some brains."

Hongju scoffed.

"The gangs used to practically live at the old gambling house. They even warned us before police raids. But this area isn’t their territory, so they can’t step in now."

"Aah."

Just as Mu-gyeong reached for a new beer, a loud commotion erupted from the hallway.

"You motherfucker! Are you fucking kidding me?!"

It was Guppping’s voice.

Neither he nor Yang Siljang raised their voices often inside the house.

They only really yelled when chewing out employees.

For his shouts to be echoing down the entire hallway—something big had happened at the gambling table.

"Who pulled the first con, huh?! It was you, Guppping! That bastard’s a pro, isn’t he? You think we wouldn’t notice him sneaking his hand?! This isn’t the first time he’s pulled this shit!"

Earlier, Guppping had been grinning ear to ear over a big fish.

Now, that smug expression was long gone.

People poked their heads out of the rooms, drawn by the commotion.

As soon as the accusation of cheating was thrown out, all eyes locked onto Doksu.

He sat there, his head tilted slightly down, stroking his chin in silence.

"What the fuck are you saying? Who dragged a pro into this game, huh? And now you’re trying to pin it on me?"

"You got proof?"

Guppping’s face ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) flushed an angry red, his whole body trembling. He looked ready to explode at the slightest provocation.

"Well, well. Look at you, Guppping. Used to be the king of this place, and now you’re running rigged games to scrape by. You really hit rock bottom, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up! There’s nothing you won’t say, huh?!"

A thug rushed over, throwing himself between Guppping and the others. But Guppping only flailed harder, raging against his own restraint. His outburst was met with amused chuckles from the two men standing opposite him.

One of them—the so-called sucker—wore a large sports bag slung over his shoulder. It was stuffed so full of cash that the zipper wouldn’t even close properly.

Guppping had been riding high earlier, carrying stacks of money to the table. Did he lose everything?

"You’re embarrassing yourself, Guppping. Rigged games only work sometimes. Not today. Here, take this—"

The man casually pulled out a few crumpled 1,000-won bills and tucked them into Guppping’s collar.

His face twisted with fury.

At that moment, Yang Siljang finally arrived, taking in the scene with a careful eye.

"What’s going on?"

"That bastard deliberately brought in a pro—an actual player! And now he’s accusing me of running a scam! These fucking nobodies don’t know their place!"

Despite the thug holding him back, Guppping struggled violently. He thrashed so hard that even the burly gangster restraining him broke out into a sweat.

The whole house was watching now. Yang Siljang, sensing the growing tension, stepped in to de-escalate.

"Ah, our boss must’ve had a bit of day drinking, huh? You know how it is—have a little liquor and suddenly everything gets under your skin."

"Day drinking, my ass. He lost his money fair and square, and now he’s throwing a tantrum. I mean, how are we supposed to trust this place? Might as well go somewhere with monitored games, huh?"

The mocking comment sent murmurs rippling through the onlookers.

Guppping’s neck turned red, his whole body shaking.

"Oh, come on, let’s not scare our guests. Our boss here doesn’t gamble anymore. He just plays a little hwatu for fun, you know, keeps his mind sharp. No need to call him a pro."

Yang Siljang smiled, flashing the gold tooth between his lips.

"Anyway, gentlemen, you had a great night. We hope to see you again soon. Take care on your way out."

The two men snickered as they strolled down the hallway.

"We can’t let them go just like that! I’ll break his fucking hands—!"

"Let’s get our boss some rest. He’s had enough excitement for one night, hasn’t he?"

Yang Siljang signaled the thug to escort Guppping away.

The guy was struggling too much for one person to handle, so even Doksu stepped in to help.

Hongju debated whether to lend a hand as well, but before he could move, he felt a light weight drape over his shoulders.

"This place really knows how to put on a show."

Mu-gyeong.

With one arm slung lazily around Hongju’s shoulders, he casually sipped his beer. His eyes glowed with amusement, as if watching a particularly entertaining performance.

"Aww, what are you all doing out here? So distracted, you won’t even notice if someone cheats. Let’s wrap it up."

Yang Siljang’s gold tooth gleamed as he grinned.

His single eye flicked from Hongju to Mu-gyeong.

"You—"

But Mu-gyeong’s presence was enough to shut him up. Yang Siljang clicked his tongue and turned away.

Thanks to him, the chaos quickly settled.

"How much do you think he lost?"

Mu-gyeong mused aloud as he took another sip of beer.

"He exchanged two grand earlier."

"He’s got a fucking death wish."

Mu-gyeong drained the rest of his can and crushed it with one hand.

Tossing it into the trash near the entrance, he started walking—still with his arm draped over Hongju’s shoulder.

That meant Hongju had no choice but to follow.

Mu-gyeong headed straight for the back room, where Guppping’s voice still rang out.

Hongju hesitated.

Going there now would just get him caught up in the mess.

But Mu-gyeong didn’t pause for a second, striding forward like he was completely unfazed.

They stepped inside the small room between the desks and the bathroom.

The safe room.

"Didn’t you call him a sucker? But he played like a pro."

Doksu was standing near the corner, cigarette in hand.

Even he looked pissed.

Usually so easygoing, always smiling—now, his face was red with frustration.

"Shit. That bastard—"

Guppping’s face was just as red, veins bulging in his neck.

His voice came out ragged, still fuming over the loss.

"He had to be a player! No fucking way he wasn’t! There’s no way I lost that much money fair and square!"

"How much?"

Mu-gyeong asked like he didn’t already know.

Hongju sneaked a glance at him.

Of course, he did know.

But his face showed no trace of amusement, no hint of deception.

"Two grand. Fuck, I feel sick just thinking about it."

If Hongju had asked, Guppping would’ve cussed him out or thrown a punch for being nosy.

But now, he just sighed and answered.

"Only two?"

Mu-gyeong’s tone was dripping with mockery.