Three Eight-Chapter 31

Hongju endured the thirst clinging to his throat as he moved quickly around the house. Whenever he passed by the empty room at the end of the hallway, he couldn’t help but peek inside.

Time passed like that for a while longer. One day, they closed early after hearing that a crackdown might be coming. Even then, Mu-gyeong didn’t show up.

"Tch, it’s been four days and not a single glimpse of him."

Guppping muttered while leaning his head out the window at the end of the staircase. Hongju also looked outside. The days were getting shorter, and it was already growing dark. Around this time, Mu-gyeong would usually be walking the hallway with his coat billowing, or sitting in the room at the end, smoking. Was he keeping a low profile because of the rumor about the gangsters getting involved?

"......."

Or maybe... Guppping had already made a move and was playing dumb? That wasn’t out of the question either. As crooked as he was, Guppping could be dangerously sharp when it came to shady dealings. Faces of gangsters close to Guppping flashed through Hongju’s mind.

"Yeah, hey, how’ve you been? Our house is under construction, you know. We’re just setting up temporarily for now. You been busy lately?"

Apparently, they’d sniffed out a decent operation somewhere, and Guppping and Doksu were busy scouting for good players.

Leaving the two of them to their calls, Hongju slipped off to the bathroom. There, he pulled the phone out of his front pocket where it had been sleeping quietly. His fingers hovered over the keypad for a moment before moving quickly.

[Are you safe?]

He hit send and immediately powered off the phone. Stepping back outside, Hongju moved briskly, acting like nothing had happened.

"Where should I put this?"

Entering Room 5 with a tray, Hongju waited silently for a reply.

"Here."

He carefully set the tray down where the man pointed. As he picked up the money for the Bacchus drink and turned to leave the room—

Clatter!

A loud crash rang out.

"Ah fuck!"

A cup had shattered on the floor. It had been placed well within the edge of the table, not at the corner—breaking like that was almost certainly intentional.

Planning to fetch a broom, Hongju started walking when something flew at him and hit him from behind.

"You fuckin’ unlucky bastard, breakin' cups and just walkin’ off?"

"I didn’t touch it."

"The fuck you didn’t, you bastard. You left it at the edge!"

Hongju stared at the man, disbelief on his face. Looked like the guy just wanted to vent his frustration from losing money.

From experience, arguing never helped with customers like this. Hongju sighed quietly and stepped back into the room.

"I’ll clean it up right away."

He crouched to gather the shards, planning to just get the big pieces out of the way.

"You just sighed, didn’t you?"

"Hey, man, what’s your deal? Why’re you taking it out on the staff?"

The one who had been stacking piles of money spoke in a mocking tone.

The man slammed the table.

"What?"

He shoved his chair back and shot to his feet. Then, without warning, he kicked Hongju in the shoulder as he was picking up the shards.

"Ugh."

Hongju caught himself on his elbow, but his hand was sliced by the pieces he had been holding. A hot sting rushed in, and he furrowed his brow.

"This fucker, didn’t you see where you put it?!"

The man grabbed Hongju by the collar and yanked him up. Others in the room stood up and tried to stop him, but he kept screaming, face red with rage.

"You all in on this with the house? Yeah? That it? Figures!"

Blood dripped steadily from Hongju’s fingers. The floor was already a mess. No avoiding medicine this time. As he was thinking that, the man smacked Hongju across the face with a fat, toad-like hand.

It was more like being hit in the head—his neck snapped to the side with the force.

"Bring the boss here, fuck! I heard the rumors about this place—owners planting players to fleece customers. If you’ve stuck one in my game, I’m flipping this whole fucking place!"

He roared and lunged for the table, trying to overturn it. But others quickly pushed down on it and held it in place.

"The fuck is wrong with this guy?"

"Trying to wreck the game now, huh?"

The room erupted into chaos. Choi-geun came rushing in, grabbing the man from behind.

"Sir, what’s going on? Please, calm down, calm down."

"Let go!"

The man flailed, kicking at people around him. Choi-geun, drenched in sweat, jerked his chin at Hongju.

"Haa..."

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It was more important to calm the guy down first. Hongju figured he’d go get another staff member. But before he could even move, Guppping burst into the room.

After surveying the scene, his eyes landed on Hongju with a sharp, vicious glare. Then, forcing a revoltingly fake smile, he spoke up.

"What’s all the ruckus in here? What’s going on, everyone?"

Of course, not without brushing past Hongju’s shoulder harshly on the way in.

"......."

For the past few days, Mu-gyeong’s mention of collateral had kept things in check. But now, it seemed that grace period was over.

Once Choi-geun and the other staff managed to wrestle things under control, events played out exactly as Hongju had expected.

"Ugh, mmmf."

A relentless storm of kicks rained down. The once-stiff padding of his coat was now stamped with countless muddy shoe prints. Hongju curled into himself, covering his head. Blood, which had only just stopped flowing from his palm, began to seep again, warm and sticky, soaking into his black hair.

"Running off all the few customers we’ve got left, is that it? Huh?"

With every kick to his lower back, his body jerked uncontrollably across the floor. The guest who had caused the scene had long since left with his money. Now, only Yang Siljang, Guppping, and Choi-geun remained in the room. As always, there was no one here to help him.

"Guppping. That’s enough. What if that guy shows up again and throws a fit?"

"Fuck it! I’ll just say the kid got into it with a customer and took a beating. I’ve been waiting for this moment, Gu Hongju. You know that?"

Hongju clutched his head tighter, pressing his wrist against his ear. The ringing in his right ear was deafening now—so loud it blocked out every other sound.

"Not gonna answer? You little fuck, getting cocky now that you’ve got a rich backer, huh?"

He endured the beating a while longer. The sleeve of his jacket had torn somewhere, soft inner stuffing now scattered on the ground.

...It was expensive, too.

Not that it mattered. Even if he wore something nice, what good did it do him?

Hongju curled tighter, his body throbbing with dull, numbed pain. If no one else would protect him, then he had no choice but to do it himself.

"Hey, all of you, get out. I got something to talk about with this fucker. And don’t let anyone else come in!"

Guppping barked furiously. The two others hesitated, then left the room. From where he lay on the floor, Hongju saw their footsteps vanish without a trace of reluctance.

A sickening feeling twisted in his gut. He tried to lift himself quickly—

"Ah!"

—but a rough hand yanked him up by the hair first.

Guppping dragged him toward the small bathroom inside the room, where only a dry sink sat in the corner. Hongju was thrown down on the grimy floor.

"Collateral, my ass. Fucking brat. If that bastard dies, you’re right back to being a slave here. You need to learn your place."

He roughly unzipped his pants and pulled out his wrinkled cock.

Hongju clenched his molars to suppress the nausea rising in his throat.

"Suck it, you little fuck."

Grabbing his hair again, Guppping shoved his head between his legs.

Hongju clamped his mouth shut and squeezed his eyes closed. For a split second, what flashed in his mind was the large, gloved hand of Mu-gyeong.

"Tch. Look at this little shit."

He rubbed the tip of his cock against Hongju’s closed lips. The acrid scent of dried semen made his stomach churn. Nausea surged so strong that tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

"I’m gonna puke."

"Shut up, fucker."

Not long ago, Hongju had forced himself to do it—to take it in his mouth, just to shave off a hundred thousand won from his debt.

But now, with Mu-gyeong’s face burned into his memory, he couldn’t open his mouth.

"......."

He reached up and gripped Guppping’s thigh tightly, pretending to lean into him. He was waiting—waiting for that moment when the grip on his hair loosened.

"Move!"

He shoved Guppping’s leg with all his strength and kicked off the floor.

"Ugh, hey!"

A hand swiped across his back, trying to grab him, but missed. His battered body screamed in pain, but he didn’t stop running.

"What the fuck, hey! Where you going?! Hey!"

He tore down the hallway. Yang Siljang, standing at the end with a group of customers about to enter another room, widened his eyes at the sight.

Behind him, Guppping’s footsteps thudded heavily—still yanking up his pants, one step too late.

Hongju clutched his bleeding hand and ran.

"Haa, haah..."

Just getting out of the building had him gasping for air. The snow that had been falling quietly had now piled up to his ankles. He pushed through the deep, sinking snow, racing back to his lodging.

No more shouting behind him. No more footsteps chasing him. But it felt like they were still there, haunting him, pressing on his back like a phantom.

He’d run like this more than a hundred times.

And the footprints he left in the snow would be obvious. Guppping would know exactly where he’d gone.

He knew it wasn’t going to work this time either.

Even if he got away—where could he go?

An internet café? A motel? A convenience ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) store?

If Guppping sent out the lowlifes he was close with, he’d be found within an hour.

The only vaguely safe place was his lodging.

He’d thought about calling Mu-gyeong. Of course he had. But he didn’t have the courage to do it. Not yet.

"......."

After washing with cold water, Hongju curled up under the blanket, shivering.

As the tension in his body began to slowly release, pain flooded in to take its place. His palm throbbed the worst.

"Why’d it have to be my hand..."

The bleeding had stopped thanks to the towel he’d wrapped tightly around it while washing, but the gash was long.

Even the slightest movement made blood seep through the cut.

Bzzz.

From the pocket of his jacket lying on the floor, his phone vibrated nonstop.

He had run without any kind of plan. And by tomorrow, he’d be back at the house anyway.

"......."

Even if he ran again, the nine hundred million won debt would only fall to his aging father.

It wouldn’t be hard to find either of them.

Even if Guppping didn’t know right now, it wouldn’t take him long to figure it out.

He could barely remember his father anymore—only resentment remained.

Even so, the thought of him getting beaten while collecting debts was unbearable.

That father had never done anything for him.

Wouldn’t thank him even now.

Probably never worried about him either.

"...Gotta clean up."

Hongju forced his barely-warmed body to sit up.

When his thoughts turned bleak like this, the only way to keep from collapsing was to move.