Three Eight-Chapter 17

Guppping had no idea that Mu-gyeong was watching him. If anything felt even slightly off, Mu-gyeong would catch on in an instant.

Hongju, sensing the urgency, spoke up.

"What if he finds out? What if he tries to pull his investment like last time...? Isn’t this just asking for trouble?"

"That guy may have invested in the house, but he doesn’t know shit about gambling. At most, he’s played a few rounds of Hwatu or Seotda. We could cheat him right in front of his face, and he wouldn’t even notice."

Hongju’s lips parted, the dried blood on them cracking, but he hesitated.

Instead, Doksu tilted his head and added,

"I’ve never seen that guy show any interest in gambling, though."

"If you set the mood right, anyone can get into it."

Guppping was already pulling in Yang Siljang to get things moving.

Though Yang Siljang had been wary of Mu-gyeong earlier, he welcomed the idea.

They began setting up the trap.

To the seasoned gamblers, Mu-gyeong was just another fattened target ready to be stripped clean.

And Hongju—he had to play along.

"......."

He should tell Mu-gyeong.

Mu-gyeong had been watching him like a hawk to make sure he didn’t step out of line.

At least they weren’t planning to kill him—that was a relief.

Before he could finish his thoughts, Guppping grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him backward.

The pain in his scalp was sharp, but the strain on his neck as it twisted was worse.

A quiet, broken groan slipped through his lips.

Guppping leaned in and whispered,

"If you so much as breathe a word to Mu-gyeong, I’ll rip your fucking ass apart, you hear me? I’ll lock you up in a room and turn you into a goddamn fleshlight. Got that?"

Even the smallest nod sent a searing pain down his neck.

Guppping finally let go, tossing his head aside like garbage.

Then, he stood up and cracked open a beer from the fridge, chugging it down.

"Fuck. I’ve always hated your smug little face. Might as well make some use out of you."

He wiped his wet lips with the back of his hand, smirking nastily.

"......."

Hongju had wanted to go buy some water, but looking like this, it was out of the question.

He remembered the terrified look the convenience store clerk always gave him when he showed up battered.

Swallowing against the dryness in his throat, he forced himself to endure it.

The very next day, the trap for Mu-gyeong began.

Setting up a scheme to fleece someone could take anywhere from a couple of days to months.

Since they already had information on Mu-gyeong’s financials and connections, it didn’t take long.

"We used to run games in that back room anyway. Let’s get things ready before he arrives."

"We only need three people to sit in as players. He doesn’t know the faces around here, so it doesn’t really matter who we pick."

The plan was to stage a gambling session with two planted "losers" to make the scene look legitimate.

Hwatu was an easier entry point than Seotda.

Yang Siljang and Doksu would take the lead as players.

Once the game was in motion, Doksu would excuse himself, leaving Mu-gyeong in his seat to hold onto a "winning hand" for a few rounds.

The setup was simple: make him win a little, get him interested, then let him take home a big pot.

That would be the bait.

Once Mu-gyeong felt the thrill of winning, the planted "losers" would quietly exit.

Doksu would then return with a "new player" to restart the game—this time, shifting into Seotda.

"Once we’re into Seotda, we sweep the pot with a yuk-ddaeng play. Yang Siljang shuffles, then asks the guy holding yuk-ddaeng if he has a lighter. That’s the signal. Ideally, Doksu should be the one receiving the hand. Got it?"

That was where Mu-gyeong would lose everything.

By that point, the game would be too deep for him to simply walk away.

He’d either have to borrow money or dig into his own pocket—forcing him to keep playing.

It was an old trick, but it worked more often than not.

"Shit, though. You gotta at least have some experience with this game to get caught up in it."

Yang Siljang clicked his tongue, not liking that Doksu was playing the key role instead of him.

Hongju sat there quietly, calculating the plan in his head as he listened.

"You gotta hook him, get him addicted to the feeling of winning first. I’ll bring in the right people, so everyone make sure to lay the groundwork. Especially you, Hongju—keep your mouth shut."

"......Yeah."

"I wasn’t fucking joking before. You better carve that into your skull."

The words from yesterday resurfaced, making his stomach churn.

Hongju ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek, where the wound was barely healing.

He glanced at Doksu.

Their eyes met immediately.

Doksu had been watching him.

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"Tomorrow. Stay sharp."

"......."

The guy had been glued to him since yesterday.

Had Guppping told him to keep an eye on him?

Doksu had been unnervingly persistent.

Usually, he would crash in one of the spare rooms, but last night, he hadn’t left Hongju’s side until right before dawn.

The scrutiny had made it impossible for Hongju to even sneak his phone out.

He still hadn’t been able to tell Mu-gyeong.

"Hey, don’t scare Hongju too much. You’ll make him nervous for no reason."

Doksu grinned, eyes still locked on him.

Hongju didn’t ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) smile back.

"......."

Mu-gyeong was nowhere to be seen today.

He should have shown up by now.

With the plan set to go into motion tomorrow, the unease creeping into Hongju’s gut only grew stronger.

The house employees finalized the details and scattered to their respective spots.

Taking advantage of the commotion, Hongju quietly slipped toward the restroom.

The door was locked.

Someone was inside.

Changing direction, he made his way to the room with the safe.

Normally, going in alone or locking the door would get him yelled at.

But right now, he needed a moment alone.

Glancing at the locked door, he pulled his phone from his padded jacket.

"Fuck, why now?"

The moment he turned it on, the screen flickered, then died.

Even though it had been powered off the entire time he was in the house, the battery was already dead.

He just needed enough charge to send a single message.

How the hell was he going to charge it?

Using his main phone was out of the question.

It was under Yang Siljang’s name, meaning the call logs could be checked at any time.

The convenience store sold portable chargers.

Maybe he should buy one.

As he counted the money left in his pocket, biting his split lip in frustration—

"Hongju. You in there?"

The voice that followed the knock belonged to Doksu. Hongju tensed, his gaze fixed on the door.

"Hongju?"

If he stayed in here too long, it would only make him look more suspicious. He quickly opened the door.

Doksu, standing there, greeted him with a grin.

"Where’s the nearest convenience store around here?"

"...Go out, head right, walk straight up. There’s one at the intersection."

Hongju gave a short answer and tried to slip past him.

But Doksu subtly adjusted his stride, sticking close to his side.

"Can’t you come with me? I’m shit at directions."

"It’s easy to find. Just keep going straight."

"Come on, I’ll buy you something cold. You haven’t had a sip of water all day."

"......."

Hongju looked up at him, startled.

No one else had ever noticed how rarely he drank or ate inside the house.

Choi or the thugs would just scold him for wasting money at a convenience store. Guppping and Yang Siljang couldn’t care less.

"And I wanted to get you some medicine, too."

The smile wasn’t exactly malicious, but Hongju couldn’t let his guard down.

For all he knew, this was just another way for Guppping to keep tabs on him.

"Come on, yeah?"

"I have to stay here."

"That guy over there said he’ll watch the place for you."

One of the men Mu-gyeong had stationed was sitting at the desk.

"......."

"You’re coming with me, right?"

Doksu slung an arm around his shoulder, dragging him along.

Hongju instinctively tried to shake him off, but Doksu just grinned and rewrapped his arm, unfazed.

After a few failed attempts, Hongju changed his mind.

Might as well stick with him, wait for even the slightest opening to let his guard down.

And if he found a chance to buy a portable charger, even better.

He adjusted his course slightly.

"Just this once. Next time, go by yourself."

"Got it."

From the start, Doksu had struck him as unusually friendly.

He was curious about everything, asked too many questions, and paid unnecessary attention to things.

"Can I ask something? Do they always beat you up like that? Since when? No one ever stops it..."

"That’s just life in the house."

"Ah."

Since the day his father left him as collateral, the violence had never stopped.

They said crying brought bad luck, so they locked him up in a tiny storage room barely big enough to stand in.

Then, when they lost money, they came and beat the shit out of him.

As a kid, Hongju had believed that if he endured it, he might be able to see his father again.

He’d started panhandling while covered in bruises and scabs around that time.

"Were you a player, too? Is that why you work here to pay off your debt?"

"No. I only play when they need an extra body. I don’t know how to play well. The debt..."

They were barely ten minutes from the intersection.

The ice had melted, and the roads were dry, so they’d walked faster than usual.

Hongju stopped at the crosswalk.

"...It’s my father’s gambling debt."

Doksu gave a small nod, quietly closing his mouth.

The mood shifted, turning oddly heavy.

But strangely enough, Hongju found the silence comforting.

"My brother dragged me into this. I always thought this shit was disgusting."

Doksu scoffed, kicking at the ground.

Maybe his brother had gotten sucked into gambling and lost everything.

There were plenty of people who picked up the cards after chasing down a gambling-addicted family member.

He was probably one of them.

"Then why are you still here?"

"Who knows? I don’t even know myself."

Just then, the traffic light changed.

They crossed the intersection side by side.

But instead of heading straight for the convenience store, Doksu veered slightly off course.

"Wait a sec."

He suddenly sprinted toward a nearby 24-hour pharmacy.

Hongju watched his retreating back in confusion.

It wasn’t like he needed medicine.

Still, this was his chance.

The moment Doksu disappeared, he spun on his heel.

He barely made it two steps before—

Honk.

A sharp car horn blared.

The sound made his entire body freeze.

His head snapped toward the source.

A car was idling by the sidewalk.

The passenger-side window was rolled halfway down.

And through the gap—

The face he had been waiting for.

"Not doing what you’re supposed to again? Running around where you shouldn’t be."