Three Eight-Chapter 36

Ever since he’d taken the phone Mu-gyeong handed him, Hongju had been through plenty of nerve-racking, dangerous moments. But with just that one sentence, all the anxiety and tension he’d been carrying—like walking on ice—washed away completely. He even felt brave enough to handle whatever danger might come next.

"Be careful."

The emotionless warning left Guppping unable to say a single word. And in that silence, the sounds from the gambling floor beyond seemed even louder.

At last, Hongju was able to spend time in the quiet he’d wanted so badly.

As dawn approached, people began to leave one by one. The third floor, which had been packed with sunken-eyed gamblers, gradually emptied out until only the room at the end of the hallway still had a guest. One of the gangsters gave Hongju a nudge on the back, pushing him reluctantly toward the last customer.

"You’re not leaving?"

That man had spent the entire night drinking whiskey, smoking, and occasionally calling Hongju over to run trivial errands. It was unusual for someone to stick around all the way until closing time.

"Time to go?"

"Yes."

Hongju nodded as he answered. Mu-gyeong stood up abruptly, both feet planting firmly on the floor. He let out a long yawn as he stretched, and when he raised his arms, the coat swaying around his calves bounced up to his knees.

"I’ll just clean up a bit."

He placed the empty whiskey bottle and the melted ice glass on a tray. When he left it by the door, one of the staff came quickly to take it away. With a broom in hand, Hongju bent down to sweep the floor. There wasn’t much to clean—Mu-gyeong had kept things neat.

He figured Mu-gyeong would leave once he started tidying up, but instead, the man perched himself on the window frame and watched Hongju.

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"...What?"

When he asked, Mu-gyeong didn’t respond—just checked his watch. Tilting his head in confusion, Hongju went back to sweeping. Once the floor was clean and the ashtray emptied, he picked up the trash can and stepped past the threshold. Just as he was about to walk off, he felt someone behind him and quickly turned around.

"What are you doing? Not leaving?"

Mu-gyeong had come up behind him without a sound and gave him a gentle push. Even through the padded jacket, Hongju could clearly feel the pressure of that hand. He had no choice but to walk beside him down the hallway. A few staff members were gathered near the front desk, preparing to leave.

"Oh? You were still here?"

Doksu struck up conversation casually, but Mu-gyeong only raised one corner of his mouth before heading straight down the stairs. He was never one for goodbyes, sure—but even so, to pass by Guppping, Chief Yang, and the others without saying ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) a word was unexpected.

"Fucking rude bastard."

Guppping waited until Mu-gyeong was completely out of sight before gritting his teeth.

"Anyway, Doksu, we need to talk. You’re staying with us tonight and coming in with us tomorrow."

"Yes, yes."

"There's dumbass rumors flying around about our House lately. Starting tomorrow, if anyone acts out, you kick their ass, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

The gangsters all nodded and scattered. Hongju was the last one down the stairs, along with one of them.

"Ugh, haven’t used my body like that in a while. My whole back’s stiff."

"Nothing happened earlier, right?"

"What would’ve happened? The asshole kept yelling he was gonna throw up, went outside, and passed out cold."

"Oh."

The guy in front turned his upper body sideways as he walked, ranting animatedly. Hongju rubbed his freezing hands together and kept an eye on the ground for anything that might trip them.

"Honestly, if that guy had made more of a scene, it would've been better. Guppping couldn’t even get a word in—!"

His grumbling stopped short. Hongju, who’d been half-listening, turned his head. From the entrance came a faint haze of smoke and a strong, acrid smell. A familiar coat fluttered in the icy winter wind.

"So you’ve got a staff dorm or something."

That’s what Mu-gyeong said without preamble. As the gangster ahead waddled a bit farther from the entrance, Mu-gyeong came into full view, a cigarette filter between his lips. He didn’t even glance at anyone else as he continued.

"Is it far?"

The gangster quickly jerked his chin, leaving the answer to Hongju.

"No. It’s close enough to walk."

"Yeah?"

Mu-gyeong inhaled deeply, so hard his cheeks hollowed. Then he flicked the cigarette to the ground. Ssshh. The lit filter hit the snowy ground and sizzled. Mu-gyeong ground it out under his polished shoe and turned his body. White smoke drifted from his bright-red lips.

"Lead the way."

"Sorry?"

"Need to walk off the booze. Lead."

When Mu-gyeong started walking first, the gangster started flailing his arms and gesturing wildly at Hongju. Hongju narrowed his eyes, unsure what the hell he was trying to say. Then Mu-gyeong turned and sneered.

"Showing off for Gu Hongju now?"

"Eh? Oh—ha ha..."

The gangster laughed awkwardly, scratching at his buzzed head.

"No, it’s not that. I was saying I’m going to my girlfriend’s tonight. Did I tell you, Hongju?"

"No."

"Oh, I didn’t? Must’ve slipped my mind. I’ll sleep there and head in from there tomorrow."

Judging by his uncomfortable expression, he’d just come up with the excuse. Maybe he didn’t want to walk to the dorm with Mu-gyeong. Not that Hongju was thrilled either, but he didn’t have a girlfriend—or even a regular friend—to use as an excuse.

"Okay."

"Yeah. You know Mr. Choi’s off on assignment, right?"

"I know."

"Alright then. Get going. You too, President Mu-gyeong. Take care, yeah."

The gangster gave a half-assed bow and shuffled off. The crunch of his footsteps in the snow sounded oddly dainty for such a big guy.

"See that? What’s the use of all that bulk?"

Mu-gyeong’s sharp words cut through the air, right as a heavy arm slung across Hongju’s shoulder. The sudden weight made him stumble slightly, but the gloved hand only tightened its grip.

"This coat’s expensive. If I slip, you better throw yourself under me."

"..."

Unbelievable. Surely he knew walking this close together on a snowy road was more dangerous. But Mu-gyeong didn’t care—he just pulled Hongju along with him. Hongju braced himself against the weight and walked.

"What’re you gonna do about getting back?"

"Not my problem."

With all the narrow alleys around, it wouldn’t be easy to memorize the way. But even when Hongju showed concern, all he got back was a dry, indifferent reply.

"No one here drives?"

"Choi does, but he rarely uses it. Says gas is too expensive."

At that, Mu-gyeong narrowed his eyes. Maybe it was because he had money, but he clearly couldn’t even begin to relate to something so petty and frugal.

"What’s it cost, seriously."

His scoffing words came out on a puff of breath, white steam bursting into the air and momentarily clouding Hongju’s vision.

"...Yeah."

He couldn’t see properly in front of him, one side of his body was being held tight by President Mu-gyeong, and silence had lingered in his left ear for some time. Everything about the situation was uncomfortable, yet strangely, it felt a bit less cold than before. Maybe it was because of the body heat beside him. Every so often, Hongju reached up and touched the chilled lobe of his left ear as he quickened his steps.

It was the time when others were starting their day. As they passed by early commuters, they finally arrived at a shabby villa.

"This is the place."

"Which floor?"

"Half-basement."

Standing in front of the building, Mu-gyeong slowly scanned it with his eyes. From his clean and tidy perspective, it probably looked miserably run-down. Hongju suddenly felt a pang of humiliation and busied himself fiddling with the gauze on his hand.

"Ah, I’m tired. Mind if I take a nap?"

When he looked up, Mu-gyeong was staring at him with a dry expression, clearly waiting for an answer. Hongju suddenly recalled the hotel Mu-gyeong stayed in—just the sitting area with the couch was bigger than this entire half-basement room. The man wouldn’t even sit in a chair without a handkerchief. Why would he want to come inside this place?

"...It’s small in there."

After some hesitation, Hongju carefully worded his rejection. Whatever the reason, the thought of being in a tiny room alone with Mu-gyeong made it hard to breathe.

"Then you can sleep standing up."

With a grin, Mu-gyeong stepped inside the building. Watching the neat shape of the back of his head as he descended the stairs, Hongju let out a quiet sigh.

"It’s dirty. People just sleep here. There’s no ventilation, everyone shares the same blankets, and... it’s really cramped. You’ll be uncomfortable."

Hongju reluctantly stepped down the half-staircase, rattling off reasons that he hoped would turn Mu-gyeong off. He didn’t even reach for the door lock.

"So what, you want me to drive drunk? What if I hit something with booze still in my system? Who’s gonna pay off your debt then?"

They could just call a driver like last time. But when Hongju didn’t open the door, Mu-gyeong folded his arms and leaned on one leg. Right then, the door of the unit across from them suddenly flung open, and a young woman who looked like a college student stepped out.

"Oh? Hi... there."

"Yes, hello."

The exchange was awkward. Seeing Mu-gyeong standing there stiffly, the woman hunched her shoulders and quickly headed up the stairs. The whole time she climbed, she kept glancing back at them. Her suspicious eyes met Hongju’s. She lifted her phone slightly, as if to say she’d call the cops—and Hongju quickly shook his head.

"Keep standing there like that, and she’s really gonna call the police."

Mu-gyeong tilted his head to watch the stairway, and the woman startled, sprinting up the rest of the steps. He said he wanted to walk it off—what was with the sudden change?

"...Alright. Come in, then."

Hongju sighed under his breath and tapped in the password. Thankfully, the room wasn’t as messy as he feared. Seemed like Choi had done a quick clean-up before leaving.

"You’d get sick just living here."

Mu-gyeong’s eyes swept over the interior, a frown forming between his brows. Sure, the place wasn’t great—but to say that out loud, in a room where four people lived? Hongju, now with his back to Mu-gyeong, shook off his padded jacket.

"I told you it was like this."

"Four people live in this cramped shithole?"

Mu-gyeong scoffed, nudging a gangster’s hat aside with his foot. Hongju didn’t respond and held out a hanger. Still wearing gloves, Mu-gyeong took it and shrugged off his coat.

"You can hang that over there. You’re going to shower, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then I’ll go first."

Mu-gyeong’s eyes, which had been scanning the room, landed on Hongju.

"What, not showering together?"

His voice had that teasing tone again, and Hongju’s face immediately twisted in annoyance.