PAHO 41

It was only when the central streetlight was about to turn yellow that Nam Gyeonhwa stopped running. He felt like he had been running for a good two hours. Wiping the beads of sweat on his chin with the back of his hand, he patted his lower back. Perhaps because it had been a while since he had a proper workout, his legs were trembling from his calves to his thighs.

One by one, the lights standing like village guardians at every corner were changing from a hazy pale blue to a soft tangerine color, as if mimicking sunlight. Due to the nature of the underground, which inevitably received significantly less sunlight than the surface, streetlights placed everywhere in Nakdo served as street trees. When he pushed back the hood he had pulled over his head, a damp breeze touched his cheek. Strictly speaking, it was more like the wind from a building coming through a ventilation fan than a natural breeze, but the feeling of it on his heated skin was not bad.

Nam Gyeonhwa stood, gripping the railing, and looked down at the underground vista spread beneath his feet. Like a giant from mythology condemned to eternally support the earth, buildings stood tall, touching the ceiling, and among them, neon signs glittered like shards of pottery. The strange scenery, which evoked the feeling of space as depicted in an old documentary, made him linger there for a long time.

On his way back, he stopped at a convenience store he saw. Since the day before yesterday, Haejin had been saying he wanted to eat the omurice he had happened to see on television. It was not a strong demand, just a passing comment, but since they had a gas stove for the first time in a while, he figured making some fried rice would not be so difficult.

He picked up a carton of eggs, a green onion, and an onion from the fresh food section on one side. He wondered how long it had been since he had picked up fresh food with his own hands. The house in Mangmae had a communal kitchen, so it was not a great environment for cooking, but also, there was no refrigerator, so any food he bothered to make would easily spoil, which was why he had always preferred food that could be stored at room temperature. The house he was in now had not only a gas stove but also a refrigerator.

Haejin would be comfortable if we lived in a house like this for a long time. As the thought casually crossed his mind, complex worries began to tangle together one by one. There were more than a few matters he had not finished discussing with Na Taebeom. There was the issue of the rented house, and the proposal Na Taebeom had mentioned before also needed to be sorted out.

“Do you need a bag?”

The voice that cut through his long train of thought was gruff. Nam Gyeonhwa, who had been staring blankly at the convenience store employee looking at him with tired eyes, nodded his head.

“Yes.”

“That will be eleven thousand one hundred won.”

Nam Gyeonhwa took out a wad of bills he had tucked deep inside his pocket. The convenience store employee, who was putting the purchased items into a bag, glanced Nam Gyeonhwa up and down.

“You’re the person who moved in this week, right?”

He did not answer. As if reading the look in Nam Gyeonhwa’s eyes that was trying to figure out how he knew, the employee smiled.

“Almost no one lives in this neighborhood up here, so it’s always the same old faces. That’s why I know the faces of all the customers who come and go, but you’re a new face, so I just took a guess.”

“There are so many houses, but no one lives here?”

“They’re all houses being left empty for real estate speculation. Don’t tell me you moved in without even knowing that?”

At Nam Gyeonhwa’s face, which pretended to be nonchalant, the employee burst out laughing inwardly. Seeing his fair and sharp-featured face, he seemed to be more of a simpleton than he looked. Either that, or maybe he was some young master who had lived off sunshine, got interested in a life of pleasure, and came here for a month-long stay or some other form of amusement.

“If you’re interested, come this way. We’ve got good stuff in this area.”

Slipping a piece of paper between the plastic bags, the employee leaned in and whispered secretively.

“There are lots of things you can’t get upstairs. Things like this are just the basics.”

After staring intently as the employee made a fist at his nose and sniffed sharply, Nam Gyeonhwa took the bag he was offered and turned away. Stopping in front of a streetlight, Nam Gyeonhwa rummaged through the bag and took out the scrap of paper the employee had put in earlier. The red business card had a promotional phrase for a poker house printed on it.

I have absolutely no interest in gambling. Didn’t he pick the wrong person to solicit, and by a long shot at that? Nam Gyeonhwa crumpled the business card and threw it over the railing. The scrap of paper fluttered in the dark wind and disappeared somewhere into the underground.

Patting his face with a towel, Nam Gyeonhwa tilted his chin toward the mirror and checked if there was any foam left. Unlike his smooth chin, his appearance was haggard. The whites of his eyes were bloodshot, and his bloodless, dry lips were creased with rough wrinkles.

Compared to when he used to sleep on old vinyl flooring with a flimsy piece of styrofoam, this was an extremely cozy house, yet he could not fall asleep at all. The echoing car horns, the meows of cats, the city wind passing through the ventilation ducts that circled the district. His entire body’s nerves were on edge at even the slightest noises that he would normally have dismissed as nothing. The reason he had recently started jogging at dawn was the result of a thought process that if he exhausted his sleepless body even a little, he might be able to get some sleep. In the end, it did not have much of an effect on his sleep, but still, his body felt lighter after running every morning.

Drying his wet hair, he came out into the living room and habitually checked the bedroom. Through the slightly ajar door, he could see Haejin rolled up in a blanket like a chrysalis. His turned face was peaceful, and the sound of his soft breathing was also steady, without any dry coughs. He had heard that a trace amount of sleeping medication was prescribed in the medicine Haejin was currently taking, but it was rare to see him sleeping so peacefully.

Since moving to this house from the medical center, Haejin’s appetite had improved significantly. It was not just an increase in appetite; the dry coughs in the middle of the night that always tormented Haejin had also markedly decreased. Even Yeo Eunjae, who came to check on his condition, speculated that the reduction in stress stemming from the environment had alleviated the symptoms. Of course, it could be a temporary improvement, so they would have to continue monitoring his progress, but after hearing such a positive opinion, he did not feel the motivation to go out of his way to find a new house. Of course, the insulting remark about it being a doghouse was still unpleasant, but he could endure even that if it was not aimed at Nam Haejin.

The sedan parked in front of the house had a rather familiar appearance.

“Hello.”

The black-tinted car window slid all the way down, revealing an unwelcome face. Spotting Na Taebeom with his arm resting on the window frame, Nam Gyeonhwa spoke bluntly.

“What brings you here?”

“I was just passing by and thought I’d give you a ride.”

The words “just passing by” were not very convincing, but Nam Gyeonhwa did not press further. It was easier to just let it go if that was what Na Taebeom said.

“I’ll just get the kid’s breakfast and be right out.”

Though still groggy and not fully awake, Haejin changed his clothes and washed his face without a single complaint. “Have a good day, hyung.” Haejin, who had followed him to the front door, saw him off by hugging him tightly from behind. Nam Gyeonhwa, who had been retying his shoelaces, turned around.

“The streetlight outside the door there… I’ll be back before it turns white.”

“Okay.”

Haejin nodded and stood on his tiptoes. “Hyung. A kiss.” Nam Gyeonhwa smiled faintly and, as requested, planted a kiss on his slightly damp forehead.

“Such deep brotherly love.”

Na Taebeom said to Nam Gyeonhwa as he got into the car, as if he found it quite amusing.

“You even kiss your little brother?”

Instead of replying, Nam Gyeonhwa gruffly held out the paper bag he had brought.

“The clothes I borrowed last time. I washed them.”

There were no particularly dirty spots, but to avoid any pointless fault-finding or him taking credit, he had scrubbed the clothes hard with soap, and they now had a unique, fluffy scent. It was the mark of having been laundered with facial soap because there was no laundry detergent.

“I don’t know if these are the kind of clothes that need to be dry-cleaned or whatever, but they looked fine.”

Lifting his gaze from the paper bag, Na Taebeom looked steadily at Nam Gyeonhwa. His placid face and neat nape had the same soap-like smell as the dried laundry. A clean body scent, not of flowers or fruit.

“What?”

Nam Gyeonhwa, who was fastening his seatbelt, blinked. Na Taebeom turned his head and, as if nothing had happened, instructed the driver to start driving. The destination was Wiyeonggwan. At this blatant dismissal of his question, Nam Gyeonhwa also stopped thinking about it deeply and turned his head to look out the window.

The car passed houses built to a uniform height as if measured with a ruler and entered an underpass along an abandoned railway. The tunnel in particular seemed to make him feel carsick, so Nam Gyeonhwa closed his eyes to try and catch his breath. Suddenly, Na Taebeom thrust the tablet he was holding right in front of Nam Gyeonhwa’s eyes.

“What is this?”

Nam Gyeonhwa, who had caught the tablet by reflex, asked. Na Taebeom pointed at the screen with a look that said, can’t you tell by looking?

“An employment contract.”

“Employment contract?”

“I’ve arranged it so that you’re on a short-term dispatch from the Special Guard Unit to coincide with the new match schedule being established this fall. Accordingly, the mutt’s position will be exclusive bodyguard.”

At the grandiose title, Nam Gyeonhwa swallowed a groan. From a mere intruder to an exclusive bodyguard—it was an advancement so absurd it was embarrassing to even apply a proper term like special appointment or special promotion.

“It’s just a document for show, so it’s not that important, but still, we need to make our positions clear to each other, don’t we?”

Befitting the supplementary explanation of making their mutual positions clear, the contract’s contents were thoroughly centered on the context of employment. One could not say there were no toxic clauses at all, but the contract showed signs of having undergone thorough legal consultation. He had expected them to operate by rule of thumb, fitting for Nakdo’s unwritten law that money is law, but this was a more sound approach than he had thought.

“You remember the terms of the proposal, right?”

Nam Gyeonhwa, who was scanning down the contract, quietly nodded. In exchange for being protected within Nakdo, Nam Gyeonhwa had to lure in Samwon Group. As someone being both directly and indirectly pursued, it would not be an easy task to amicably lure his pursuers.

“I have a few questions before we start the plan.”

“What are they?”

“The relationship between Samwon and you.”

The car body jolted. Cutting through the momentary silence, Nam Gyeonhwa continued speaking.

“It doesn’t seem like it’s just because you hold their internal secrets.”

During his time in Nakdo, Nam Gyeonhwa had been gathering rumors related to Samwon whenever he had a chance. Part of it was an intention to find a way to survive, but he was also genuinely curious.

Leaving aside the question of how confidential documents from a major conglomerate, whose influence was said to be stronger than the government’s in some fields, had flowed into Nakdo, which was considered a slum of Seoul, Na Taebeom also used those documents not to demand money from them, but for the purpose of provoking them. It was a situation that could easily become confrontational, so there must have been another reason for deliberately prodding Samwon.

The colorful lights seeping through the car window flickered across Na Taebeom’s face. He twitched an eyebrow and smiled.

“Is that all? You were curious about something so trivial?”

The voice that firmly attached the adverb “so trivial” was cold. Na Taebeom, who had been staring steadily into Nam Gyeonhwa’s watching eyes, opened his mouth.

“Director Won Hyeonseong, who rose to the forefront of management as the next owner of Samwon Group, is my older brother.”