Three Eight-Chapter 56

It wasn’t even cold enough to need a scarf. If anything, it seemed like Mu-gyeong was underdressed for winter. Hongju, watching the hem of his coat flutter in the wind, belatedly started moving. The scarf was a bit stifling, but at least it would help hide any startled expression—he was glad for that, at least.

“Bring that.”

The moment they reached the third floor, Mu-gyeong gave the command. He said nothing more and headed straight into the room with Guppping and the safe. The hallway was lined with Mu-gyeong’s men, standing guard in an overtly threatening manner. Hongju ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) moved quickly to trail the two of them.

“But Boss Mu-gyeong... those guys... how do you know them?”

Guppping asked with sunken eyes. Mu-gyeong flicked his coat back and sat down on the sofa, the corners of his lips lifting into a smirk.

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“How many people do you think spin out and start plotting the moment they see a chance to stab someone in the back?”

Guppping’s eyelids twitched, like he’d been hit. He gave an awkward smile and ran his hand through his hair. The stub of his pinky stuck out visibly.

“Still... couldn’t you have told them not to come to my place...? I mean, it’s not like I’m in any position to stab you in the back, Boss Mu-gyeong.”

“In my experience, it’s always the ones who don’t know their place who come charging in. Even if it’s uncomfortable, endure it, Gu Madam.”

The smile Guppping had forced up twitched. Mu-gyeong, unconcerned with the chilly air, reached his hand out to Hongju.

“You wait a moment.”

Hongju, who had been about to turn back outside, froze in place. Mu-gyeong slid a sheet of paper he pulled from inside the room over to Guppping.

“What is this?”

A loan contract. Guppping’s eyes flickered at the large letters. He’d thought it would be another off-the-books cash deal, and now he was clearly thrown by the unexpected turn.

“Loan contract, drawn up by my lawyer.”

Holding the paper up midair, Mu-gyeong narrowed his eyes and pretended to read through it. Guppping shifted forward, perching on the edge of the sofa.

“Isn’t it a bit cold to throw around loan papers between us...? You’ll never find another guy who does business as cleanly as me.”

Mu-gyeong’s gaze, after slowly scanning the letters, rolled over to Guppping. He was slouched deep into the seat with only his eyes looking up, so the wrinkles around Mu-gyeong’s eyelids creased even more. The sharpness in his eyes made him look even more vicious.

“What exactly is ‘between us’?”

“Well—”

“Did we date? Did we fuck?”

The cold retort hit hard. Guppping’s chapped lips twitched like he wanted to say something.

“All we did was exchange money. What kind of treatment were you expecting?”

Guppping had tried to push things the way he always did—roughly kneading the situation until it bent his way—but the plan had failed spectacularly. Having made his living off interest his entire life, no one knew better than Guppping just how powerful a single sheet of paper could be. His eyes trembled slightly as he looked down at the contract.

“Unless your face is at least as pretty as Gu Hongju’s.”

At those words, Guppping and Hongju made eye contact.

“From what I’ve seen, the loan contracts you draw up are all half-assed. This time the amount’s too big, so I figure the House at least has to be put up to make it even.”

“The House? You mean the one under construction?”

Guppping’s wrinkled eyes widened. Even with the surprise and agitation clear on his face, Mu-gyeong only shrugged.

“Might be precious to the borrower, but it’s worthless to me. What else do you have besides the building? I can’t deal cards, I can’t scout players—whether I have the House or not doesn’t make a difference.”

“Still, that’s a bit much. Of course, I’d reserve a share for you, Boss Mu-gyeong, but then there’s the revenue split and things will get complicated...”

“So you’re saying this under the assumption you’re not going to pay it back?”

The icy question made sweat bead down Guppping’s face.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Besides, I didn’t calculate this based on House margins. My lawyer took out the 20% interest—said it was too thug-like. So go ahead, stamp your thumbprint without worrying.”

“Hah...”

Guppping squirmed in place, unable to sit still. The due date with the mark was right around the corner, and it was too large a sum to scrape together elsewhere. He seemed genuinely torn.

“It’s cash, right? New bills?”

“Of course. Brought stuff crisper than anything you’ve got.”

Mu-gyeong glanced down between Guppping’s legs.

“...”

Guppping’s face crumpled instantly.

“Even if you think it over, there’s no one else but me, right?”

Guppping stared at the paper for a long time, then finally clutched his head. A quiet muttering followed.

“...Fine.”

Mu-gyeong reached for the ink pad on the table. He pulled out a cheap ballpoint pen stuck in it and began filling out the blanks. The way he wrote in the numbers was quick and practiced.

“Term is six months. You were so confident you’d pay it back quick once the House opened—this should be more than enough, right?”

Guppping nodded reluctantly. Back when the House was doing well, it was an amount he could’ve repaid in a few months.

But now the place was deserted—what would reopening really change? Hongju stared at Guppping’s bowed head with no particular feeling. He’s been gambling this long, and he still clings to this kind of false hope?

“Oh, right. Gu Madam used to love signing in blood.”

Mu-gyeong let out a chuckle as he opened the ink pad. Normally, Guppping would’ve played along with at least a half-hearted laugh, but now he kept his mouth shut and silently took the pen. He scribbled his name and pressed his ink-smeared thumbprint next to it.

“All right, witness, check it.”

Mu-gyeong handed the fully filled contract to Hongju. Hongju, familiar with this routine, scanned the amount, Guppping’s name, and the address of the House.

“I’ll give you the cash right away.”

Mu-gyeong neatly folded the loan contract and slipped it into the inner pocket of his suit. Then, with a light movement, he rose to his feet. As he brushed past Hongju, he tugged lightly on the end of the knotted scarf.

“Just do what I told you.”

“...”

There wasn’t anything he’d been told to do except keep watch over Guppping. As he watched the backs of Mu-gyeong and Guppping leaving the room, a voice echoed in Hongju’s head.

“Keep it covered. Even if you get hit, don’t let your face get split open.”

Surely he didn’t mean that was the task he was referring to—just making sure he didn’t mess up his face? No matter how much Hongju racked his brain, that was all that came to mind.

He stood there blankly for a while before finally stepping outside. The hallway was still filled with the same bulky men, stationed like walls. Peering through the stairwell window, he saw Guppping moving busily. Mu-gyeong was calmly smoking a cigarette while Guppping transferred stacks of cash from Mu-gyeong’s trunk into his own car.

“...”

So he really had all that money in the trunk. And just left it parked there like that, totally unguarded. The kind of nerve that came with having money—so different from Hongju, who still flinched over a single ten-thousand-won bill.

Guppping seemed to be calling the mark. Hongju only watched until Mu-gyeong got into the car, then turned away. Sitting down in the office chair made his body tense up again. Maybe it was muscle memory—his body remembered that without Mu-gyeong around, he was once again defenseless.

“Ha, fuck... at least I put out the fire.”

Some time later, Guppping came back up to the third floor with a sheet of paper confirming his debt repayment. His face, which had been hollowed and ashy for days, instantly brightened. Seeing that smug look on him made a wave of irritation rise in Hongju.

“Start acting right and get to fucking work!”

Smack—a sharp pain struck the back of his head. His neck, forced down by the blow, throbbed, but the scarf brushing against his cheek was strangely soft again.

“Raised you and now you’re useless!”

Just as Guppping raised his arm for another hit, one of the bulky men grabbed his right wrist. His hand, with only four fingers, flailed in the air.

“What are you doing, sir?”

“Wh-what, what now?!”

The man didn’t say anything else, just stared quietly at Guppping. Overwhelmed by the sheer size and intimidation of the man, Guppping smacked his lips and looked away.

“Don’t cause any more scenes in the House like yesterday.”

“...The hell.”

He shook off his arm as if it was ridiculous to be warned by someone who looked about Mu-gyeong’s age. The wrist that had been gripped was red and swollen, but Guppping didn’t show any pain.

“I was just doing some staff training! It wasn’t a scene.”

Follow me. Guppping silently mouthed the words to Hongju and walked off ahead. His heavy footsteps pounded against the floor—he was clearly in a foul mood.

“Borrow money and now there’s fucking surveillance too? What a load of bullshit, fuck!”

Unbelievable. Did he forget what he used to do? He’d sent Hongju to debtors’ homes and jobs to spy on them. But maybe he really didn’t understand how suffocating that kind of surveillance was—after all, he’d never done it himself.

Bang! He slammed the door shut behind him and headed straight for the sofa. Sitting with his legs spread wide, he fanned himself with one hand while glaring across the room. Then he crooked a finger, calling Hongju over.

“Come here.”

His eyes, the air around him, the way he licked his bottom lip—it all reeked of something ominous. When Hongju didn’t move, frozen in place, Guppping picked up the ink pad on the table and threw it. Thud—it hit near Hongju’s thigh with a dull sound. The ink pad lay on the floor, its red paste glaring vividly.

“I said come here. Or do you want to get hit again?”

“Keep it covered. Even if you get hit, don’t let your face get split open.”

He didn’t know why Mu-gyeong’s voice echoed in his head right now. Maybe because it was the only thing that could be called “concern.” Hesitating, Hongju slowly stepped forward.

“How much was left again? A little over 4 billion, wasn’t it.”

Hongju paused as he passed the long sofa.

“Hongju, look at you—sold your body and made it big, huh? Should’ve done it sooner, would’ve paid it off way faster.”

He sneered, but the filthy lust packed inside the words was impossible to hide. Hongju frowned and turned his head away.

“C’mon, I’m feeling down. It’s been a while—how about giving me a little tug.”

He nudged Hongju’s shin with his foot. This bastard—he’s sitting on a mountain of debt and still wants his dick sucked? Does he really think reopening the House will solve everything? After customers vanished overnight? Hongju swallowed hard and didn’t budge.

“Fine, I’ll raise your rate—how about two hundred?”

“I paid it off selling my body. How’s Guppping going to pay it back? You really have time to be doing this right now?”

“Huh?”

Guppping let out a short, incredulous laugh. Just moments ago his eyes had been dull, but now they sparked with fury.