Three Eight-Chapter 7

The whole way back to the gambling house, Hongju was acutely aware of the phone in his pocket.

"Did you put Gu Madam to good use? Did he do a good job?"

"Of course. The kid's stiff as hell, but he sure knows how to endure."

Guppping glanced at Hongju, probably checking if he had any fresh injuries. But the moment Mu-gyeong spoke, that gaze quickly shifted away.

"You must’ve been busy with no staff around. How much do I owe you?"

"Come on, between us? Forget it."

Guppping waved him off. Hongju swallowed the smirk threatening to rise. Between us. What a fucking joke.

"Two big ones? That about right for a run like this?"

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"Yeah, more or less."

Mu-gyeong, still perched on the desk, raised his index and middle fingers. Both Guppping and Yang Siljang’s eyes followed his hand. Then, Mu-gyeong folded his index finger down.

"A thousand gets deducted from the interest. The other thousand..."

Mu-gyeong trailed off, pointing his middle finger toward Guppping. The silence stretched, and Guppping swallowed hard, the sound obnoxiously loud. The ghost of a smile flickered across Mu-gyeong’s face, but it vanished just as quickly. He stretched his hand out, grabbing Hongju by the shoulder.

"It goes to him."

"...To him?"

Disappointment was written all over Guppping’s face. Not that Mu-gyeong cared. He just gave Hongju’s shoulder a few firm pats.

"He owes you money, right? Doesn't look like just any employee."

"...Yeah, he does."

Guppping’s forced grin twitched. Even Hongju could see how his lips trembled.

"Then take it off his debt. He’s the one who did the work."

"......."

"You’re a big shot, aren't you? Gotta be flexible. This works, doesn’t it?"

Guppping’s awkward smile stiffened. He threw a glance at Yang Siljang, who, despite only having one eye, also glanced at Hongju with a strained grin.

"What? Is there a problem?"

Just three syllables, but it carried a weight that crushed any resistance. He was still smiling, but the coldness in his gaze pinned the two men in place.

"...Of course not. No problem."

It was an almost theatrical response, unnatural and forced. Mu-gyeong patted Hongju’s shoulder again, his touch heavy even through the thin padding of his old jacket.

"Cheap labor. I should use him more often."

So this was what he meant by helping. He was [N O V E L I G H T] using his position to keep Guppping and Yang Siljang from saying shit. As Hongju’s heart pounded, the phone in his chest pocket felt heavier than ever.

Mu-gyeong didn’t stay long after that. The moment he left, Guppping and Yang Siljang wasted no time.

"Hey, where the fuck did you two go? How much did you even bring back for him to cut off a thousand? You don’t even look like you got hit."

It was rare to collect money cleanly. Most debtors were shameless, refusing to pay up and taking their frustration out on the most convenient target—Hongju. The ones who owed money acted more entitled than anyone else. But Hongju was persistent. Whether it was their home, office, or another gambling den, he went after them relentlessly. Eventually, they would get tired of beating him and hand over scraps of cash just to make him go away. That was how he collected. It was a stupid, brute-force method, but it worked. Guppping, knowing Hongju’s usual style, found it odd that he came back unscathed.

"Went to Dongchon. Some building, didn’t catch the name."

"What did you collect? Cash? Documents?"

"...A cigarette pack."

"A fucking cigarette pack?"

Guppping’s tone instantly turned sharp, nothing like the submissive act he put on in front of Mu-gyeong. Hongju recalled what Mu-gyeong had told him and nodded.

"Looked like there was money inside. Don’t know how much."

"If it was rolled up in million-won bills, that’s two hundred million."

Yang Siljang stroked his chin, inhaling sharply through his teeth. His mind worked fast when it came to money. The two of them immediately launched into a discussion, speculating about the amount. But Hongju wasn’t listening. All he could think about was the million that had been shaved off his debt. It would have taken months of hell to reduce that much. Yet with just one word from him, it was gone.

If he really followed Mu-gyeong’s orders, could the fourteen billion disappear just as easily?

Could he actually get out before the new gambling house opened?

For the first time since living in this place, something resembling hope stirred inside him.

"Hey, Yang Siljang! Fill in for me! Keep the game going!"

A man, clutching his crotch, rushed out, looking desperate. Yang Siljang quickly got up from his seat.

"Bathroom’s over there."

Guppping pointed him in the right direction, and the man brushed past them, mumbling.

"What kind of room has a fucking toilet outline but no actual toilet? Almost pissed down the damn drain."

"You could’ve just done that."

"Shit, man. There’s a lady in the room. Can’t just whip my dick out."

As he passed the desk, he started unzipping his pants. Hongju turned his head, disgusted. Guppping, however, chuckled at the man’s back. The place had originally been an old inn, but the toilets and sinks in the rooms had long been removed. The only working restroom was on the third floor, mostly reserved for staff. No one playing cards wanted to step away for too long—turn your back for a second, and you’d get played.

"Ssss. Can’t just whip it out in front of a lady, huh?"

Guppping repeated the words as if savoring them. Then, he shot a sly glance at Hongju.

"But if it’s someone you’ve seen more than once, that’s a different story."

"......."

"You're not just somebody we’ve seen once or twice, are you, Hongju?"

Hongju had no desire to respond. He turned his head toward the restroom, scowling. But Guppping’s clammy hand slithered around his shoulder. His severed pinky left his grip oddly incomplete, his hand stiff and awkward.

"Once the guest leaves, why don’t we have a little fun?"

The slow, deliberate pats on his shoulder made his skin crawl. Hongju bit down hard on his swollen lips. It hadn’t even started yet, but the nausea was already rising, twisting his stomach.

"Shit, I nearly pissed myself holding in my cards."

The man stepped out of the restroom, zipping up as he laughed, wiping his lips with his fingers. Guppping, of course, chimed in.

"Hey, you say stuff like that, and now I feel like I gotta go."

The two of them snickered, the man waving for Guppping to go use the restroom next. Then, he walked back toward his game room.

"......."

Why did he come out so fast? He could've taken longer. He should have taken longer. As Hongju found himself resenting the nameless man for exiting so quickly, Guppping shoved his shoulder roughly.

"Get up."

"...You're old as shit, and you're still getting horny? That's fucking pathetic."

"Tsk. That mouth of yours is only good when it’s sucking dick."

He practically dragged Hongju by the collar. The moment they stepped into the cramped restroom, the door locked behind them. Guppping's hands fumbled with his belt, yanking his pants open in a hurry. His erection was already bulging against his underwear, and as he palmed himself through the fabric, he let out a groan. Hongju ran his tongue over the torn inside of his mouth.

"This knocks off my debt, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Fuck, you get me so worked up every time I see you. You got that same look in your eyes as Mijin—makes me even harder."

Pulling his dick free, Guppping grabbed Hongju by the nape, forcing him to his knees. His grip yanked Hongju's head up, making sure he had a full view.

"Open your mouth. Hoo..."

"......."

It was revolting. The scent, thick and musky, clinging to the back of his throat. The flushed, engorged shaft twitching right in front of his face. The heavy, panting breaths of a man aroused at the mere sight of him.

But the most disgusting thing was himself—prying his lips open for this just to knock off some debt.

With a slow inhale, he parted his lips and took in the swollen head. As soon as his lips pressed around it, Guppping moaned, his grip tightening as he began moving Hongju’s head back and forth.

If he just kept his teeth from scraping and held it in his mouth, he could usually get it over with faster. A few flicks of his tongue over the shaft and tip would speed things up. He’d learned all the tricks over the past year.

"Hah, fuck, ugh."

Guppping's grip tightened. Then, suddenly, he yanked Hongju forward with force.

"Mmfh—! Ngh..."

Pain shot through his lips as the scabbed wounds split open. The heat of Guppping's flesh pressing against the raw insides of his cheek made his eyes sting. His nose brushed against wiry pubic hair as Guppping shoved himself deep, thrusting hard.

"You—huh, fuck,—you wagging your tail at that Mu-gyeong bastard now? You gonna suck his dick too, huh?"

Hongju gagged, his throat convulsing around the intrusion, but he clenched his jaw, refusing to bite down.

"Aaah..."

A few more rapid thrusts, and thick liquid spilled from Guppping's cock, coating his tongue. Hongju immediately pushed against Guppping's thighs, wrenching himself away. As he let the cock slip from his mouth, a streak of cum splattered across his cheek and lips. He didn’t even have time to wipe it off. Crawling on his hands and knees, he barely made it to the toilet before he started retching.

"Urk, ngh..."

He emptied his stomach, coughing up everything that was left inside him. Behind him, Guppping casually tore off some toilet paper to clean himself.

"Shit, there's blood."

The tissue he used to wipe his cock was smeared with his cum, streaked with red from Hongju’s torn lips. Clicking his tongue, he kept grumbling about how gross it was. Hongju, still hunched over, finally forced himself up on shaking legs. He flushed the toilet and leaned against the sink.

"I've been taking red ginseng lately. Think my load tastes different? My dick's gotten even firmer, hasn’t it?"

"I'm about to fucking throw up."

"Tch."

Guppping zipped his pants halfway before smacking the back of Hongju's head. He kept his head bowed, focusing on breathing. His face was sticky, but whether it was from blood or cum, he didn’t know. He should check the mirror, but he had no energy to lift his head.

"Anyway, you can spread your legs for Mu-gyeong if you want, but don’t be sucking him off, got it? Can't have you getting passed around too much."

"Hoo..."

His stomach lurched again. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

Mu-gyeong said he’d help him clear his debt. He could tell Guppping to fuck off. Right?

No. He couldn’t completely trust Mu-gyeong yet. And if he suddenly refused Guppping now, it would make him suspicious. If Guppping even suspected something was up, he’d start digging. And if he found out that Hongju had made a deal with Mu-gyeong...

It wouldn’t end with just a blowjob.

Hongju swallowed down the bile and shook his head.

"Actually, maybe I should save that hole. Haven’t fucked it yet."

The sound of the zipper closing was drowned out by his chuckle. Hongju's fingers trembled as they gripped the sink.

I want to kill him.

I just want to fucking kill him.

Forget the debt. Just bite down, crush his dick between his teeth. Or gouge his throat open. But he forced himself still.

If he died, they’d find his father. They’d make him pay. And even if he tried... he’d fail, just like every other time.

Guppping would make sure of it.

Because keeping him alive meant he could keep paying.

And keep sucking.

"Eh, it's good and all, but... seeing as I've known you since you were a kid, sticking my dick in you feels... weird, you know what I mean?"

"Blowing or taking it—it’s all fucking garbage, either way."

"Shut the fuck up, brat. Always got something to say. Save your breath and suck next time."

Another blow landed on the back of his head, sending a fresh ring of tinnitus through his skull. His vision blurred. The only sound was his own ragged breathing.

Finally, after the silence stretched long enough, Hongju exhaled.

"How much... are you knocking off."

"Hmm... A hundred? Same as last time."

A hundred thousand won. A fucking hundred.

Mu-gyeong had erased a thousand with just a word.

Guppping tossed out the number like it was pocket change, then strolled out, leaving Hongju alone.

It was only then that Hongju lifted his head.

"......."

The reflection staring back at him was pathetic.

Cum smeared across his cheek and jaw. Blood staining his split lips.

If it were just a beating, he could at least tell himself it was violence.

But this?

This was worse than any act of brutality.

He couldn’t meet his own eyes for long.

With a shaking hand, he turned on the faucet.

He rinsed his mouth.

Over and over, until every trace of blood was gone.

Until his lips stung raw from the friction.

Only then did he look back up.

"Haah..."

The face staring back at him was pale. Empty.

The only sound in the restroom was the hammering of his heart.

"I want to kill him."

He watched his own lips move in the mirror.

Only then did he realize—he had been repeating the words aloud the whole time.