PAHO 36

The smell of roasting grain. Is he really saying that’s a fitting description for a person? Nam Gyeonhwa, who had been glaring at the shameless face, soon looked away as if giving up.

“I want to wash up.”

Not only did he lack the energy to snap back, but the sweat that had dried on his body made him feel sticky and uncomfortable. Na Taebeom, who had been scanning his body up and down, casually lowered the arm that was holding the doorframe.

“Use that one.”

The place he indicated with a nod of his chin was the door on the opposite side.

Under the stream of hot water, Nam Gyeonhwa leaned against the wall, fumbling behind him with one hand. After probing the swollen opening, the semen that had been pooled inside his intestines began to gush out in clumps. The milky-white color flowing into the drain seemed endless, making him wonder just how much he had cum inside. Was it four times? No, if he added the times he had shot on his body, it could easily be six.

It would have been better if he had only cum inside him. The body reflected in the mirror was a sorry sight. Bluish-black bruises were clustered on his shoulders and sides, so dark he wondered if paint could even be that blue. A muscle ache ran from the nape of his neck to the tips of his toes, making it difficult to even soap himself once. The anus was so swollen from the thoughtless pounding that the inner flesh was protruding, and the pain of the opening stretching every time he bent his knees was considerable.

“Crazy bastard.”

Muttering a curse under his breath, Nam Gyeonhwa followed it with a heavy sigh. He had felt it from their first meeting when he had shoved his dick in his mouth without a word, but the man was beyond just not being in his right mind; he was someone who couldn’t be handled with common sense. And yet, knowing that, he had willingly stepped into Na Taebeom’s territory. He had no regrets. His battered body would recover with time, and he had been broken so many times long ago that feeling any particular shame for being fucked in the ass had become dull.

However, he couldn’t feel at ease just because Na Taebeom seemed willing to hear his proposal. Based on his brief observation, he surmised that Na Taebeom’s moods changed as quickly as boiling porridge, and even that attitude was a way of showing off the power he possessed. In response to the intensified crackdown enforced on the surface of Seoul, hadn’t he countered with a blockade, which in turn caused people from Seoul City to line up to come down to Nakdo?

Whether he liked it or not, now that he was being pursued by Samwon as an industrial spy, he needed the standing and influence Na Taebeom held in Nakdo. For now, Na Taebeom had tossed out the words that he would grant his request, so he would have to have a proper conversation. It was unclear what had sparked his interest for the moment, but while he was showing a proactive attitude, he knew it could change at any time. Even if he was going to be led around, didn’t he need to get a rough idea of what Na Taebeom wanted?

Perhaps thanks to washing with hot water, the throbbing pain in his body had subsided a little. Nam Gyeonhwa took a towel from the basket and wrapped it around his wet hair, then looked at the clothes hanging in a corner of the bathroom. The water-soaked, sagging underwear and T-shirt didn’t look like they would dry anytime soon.

With no other choice, he wrapped only a bathrobe around his body and carefully opened the door. As the whitish steam rushed out, the room that was revealed was not a bedroom, but a long, corridor-like space. Blinking blankly, Nam Gyeonhwa glanced back and saw an identical door on the opposite side. How big is this house, or room, that even the bathroom has doors on both sides? The bathroom he had just used was easily five times the size of the house he had shared with his two younger siblings, with room to spare.

“Excuse me, Director Na.”

Peeking his head out of the door he had entered through, Nam Gyeonhwa called to him cautiously. Na Taebeom, who had been lying on the bed fiddling with his phone, only turned his head to the side to look toward the bathroom.

“All done washing up?”

“Could, could you lend me some clothes?”

“Clothes?”

Na Taebeom’s lips curled into a playful smile as he stared at him. Putting his phone down, he got up and slowly walked toward the bathroom. Though it was a perfectly ordinary movement, the sound of his slippers scraping against the floor sent a chill down his spine.

“What kind of clothes?”

“Anything is fine…”

“Anything?”

The way he repeated the word was suggestive. Sensing an unpleasant vibe, Nam Gyeonhwa immediately corrected his request.

“A T-shirt and shorts. Long pants are fine too. It’d be even better if they’re ones you don’t wear.”

“Ones I don’t wear, huh.”

Stroking his chin, Na Taebeom grabbed Nam Gyeonhwa’s wrist and casually headed for the door on the opposite side of the bathroom. Dragged along by him, Nam Gyeonhwa passed through the long space he had just seen and entered an adjoining room. It was too plain to be called a room, with not a single piece of furniture.

As soon as he recognized the structure as something he had seen somewhere before, a few situations suddenly flashed through his mind. It was the dress room where he had been beaten and locked up when he first met Na Taebeom. Na Taebeom, who had opened every single drawer one by one in front of Nam Gyeonhwa, spoke.

“Pick something out and wear it, like last time.”

“……”

“What? You want me to pick for you?”

Na Taebeom leaned his head in and asked back, looking amused. Not wanting to face that playful expression, Nam Gyeonhwa deliberately lowered his eyes and pulled out the clothes from the very front of a drawer. As Nam Gyeonhwa tried to go back to the bathroom, Na Taebeom turned him around and gestured with his eyes at the clothes in his hand.

“Put them on in front of me.”

“In front of you…?”

Repeating the words dazedly, Nam Gyeonhwa bit his lip as if to crumple it. Na Taebeom, watching the lips filled with indignation as much as the fiercely sharp gaze, found it amusing and nodded his head. “Hurry up,” he urged, his voice light. His expression was avaricious, as if he would snatch the clothes back if he said no. No, it was a savage smile that suggested he might not stop at just snatching them.

Glaring at the face stained with cruel mischief, Nam Gyeonhwa soon threw the clothes onto the floor, untied the tightly fastened belt, and flung the robe open. At the busy movement, Na Taebeom pulled over a low stool and sat down. The robe, thrown off bluntly, fell at his feet, and his naked body was clearly revealed to Na Taebeom under the subtle orange lighting.

Perhaps because he had shed the one layer, the air clinging to his body felt a little cool. Nam Gyeonhwa tilted his chin up slightly and narrowed his eyes. Na Taebeom was sitting on the stool, one leg crossed over the other, watching him leisurely. A pale, faint reflection of a person formed in his shaded eyes.

“You’re more bruised than I thought.”

Na Taebeom, who had been sitting on the stool, suddenly reached out and poked a bruise on his side. Startled by the dull pain, Nam Gyeonhwa swallowed a groan. The movement of his Adam’s apple and the trembling of his skin—even that minute tremor was laid bare before him. But as if it were only for a moment, his face soon returned to being impassive. There’s that face again. That indifferent and calm gaze that invites disturbance. Smirking, Na Taebeom slowly scanned his eyes down. The shoulders reddened from the hot water, the chest with well-developed pectoral muscles for a slender body, the sides dotted with bruises. The covetous gaze lingered on the neatly hanging genitals between his smooth thighs.

Come to think of it, Nam Gyeonhwa hadn’t been able to cum properly during the entire time they had sex. Recalling the moment he had ejaculated so spectacularly in the car, he didn’t seem to be impotent, so was it that the man couldn’t get off from being fucked?

In the long, dark silence, Nam Gyeonhwa bent down to pick up the clothes on the floor. Just from trying to pick up a single piece of clothing, the sensation of his swollen nether regions spreading wide under the pull of gravity was so intense that he couldn’t bend his knees any deeper. Frozen in place, he glanced up and saw Na Taebeom’s face clearly.

With his arms crossed, he was leaning his back against a drawer and smiling. With a shrewd gaze, as if dissecting a prey’s weakness, Nam Gyeonhwa clenched his jaw and grabbed the waist of the pants. After quickly putting on the T-shirt and pants, Nam Gyeonhwa shook out his half-dry hair.

“I’m dressed.”

Looking at the face that indifferently announced his completion, Na Taebeom burst out laughing and clapped his hands. His eyes were like those of someone who had just satisfactorily watched a performance.

It was a familiar living room.

To be precise, today was the first time Nam Gyeonhwa realized this place was a living room. The first time he came, he had thought it was just another high-end guest room attached to the fighting arena, and the second time he visited, he was too anxious and on edge to pay much attention to the interior.

The living room, like a movie set, had antiques placed here and there. From an old-fashioned landline telephone that looked to be a hundred years old, to a thick wooden desk and a leather sofa with a fine pattern. On the opposite side, various books were packed tightly on shelves. Judging by the room’s atmosphere alone, it gave off a weighty impression, as if a journalist or a professor should be staying here, not the operator of an underground fighting arena called Wiryeonggwan.

A clock with a bird embossed on it went tick-tock. The hour hand was pointing to 6. He couldn’t see the sun, so he couldn’t be sure if it was morning or afternoon, but what was clear was that a considerable amount of time had passed since he had been in this room.

“Drink.”

At the clattering sound, he turned his head to see a glass of milk on the table. Not coffee, not tea, but milk as a welcome drink was unheard of. The suspicion that it might be drugged rose for a moment, but Nam Gyeonhwa immediately dismissed the thought. Considering Na Taebeom’s personality as he had seen it so far, he would much prefer to knock him out with his fists rather than use a cheap trick like drugs.

Perhaps because he was hungry, Nam Gyeonhwa drained the glass of milk completely. Staring at Nam Gyeonhwa wiping the milk from his mouth with the back of his hand, he leaned back comfortably on the sofa.

“I let you sleep, let you wash up, gave you milk, now what should I do for you.”

“…Earlier, you said you’d grant my request.”

“That, hmm, right, the request. You asked me to look after your kid.”

“To be more specific, I’d like you to protect Haejin’s personal information until he can be registered as a citizen of Seoul. The reason for this is, as Director Na told me before, because I’ve been marked by Samwon as a spy, and I don’t want Haejin to be harmed for that reason alone.”

Fiddling with the fingers on his knee, he continued.

“The offer you made me last time, I was wondering if it’s still valid.”