PAHO 45

Nam Gyeonhwa quickly pulled on his t-shirt and bent down to pick up the pants lying scattered on the floor. As the tension left his lower body, the semen that had pooled inside his walls mixed with the lip balm and trickled down.

“It’s all leaking out.”

Na Taebeom, who was sprawled out on the sofa, said as he looked between his thighs. At the teasing voice, Nam Gyeonhwa let out a sigh.

“If you don’t want to see the floor get messy, then use a condom next time.”

It was obvious he wouldn’t listen even if he said this. He decided he should buy condoms if he saw a convenience store or a pharmacy on the way back. He didn’t want to use the cash card Na Taebeom had given him if he could help it, but for something like condoms, it seemed like a good idea to deliberately leave a purchase history. Despite the wetness of the semen tickling his thighs, Nam Gyeonhwa pulled on his pants as if it were nothing. It was uncomfortable, but it was more convenient to finish cleaning up at a nearby restroom.

“It’s so strange.”

Na Taebeom, who had been staring intently at him as he straightened his clothes, continued.

“You say you hate it every time, but when we’re actually fucking, it’s obvious you’ve done it more than once or twice. And yet, you don’t seem to particularly enjoy sex.”

“You’re the one who said you wanted to do it. I spread my legs for you just like you wanted, so what’s the problem?”

“Because while you spread them like I wanted, you show that you hate it, far from being excited. Usually, after getting tangled up like this, they would annoyingly cling to my side and say this and that…”

“Well, maybe the owner of that lip balm did, but I don’t particularly feel like it. I just did it because you pushed me to have sex. It’s better than being forced.”

“That’s what’s weird. You do it if someone pushes you? Then what about other guys?”

“Well, I’m too tired to think about the case of other guys.”

Nam Gyeonhwa answered bluntly and combed his tangled hair back with his fingers. A sidelong glance revealed a face that looked thoroughly annoyed. He couldn’t understand what he was so dissatisfied about, even though he had spread his legs wide just as he wanted.

A buzzing vibration sounded from the desk opposite them. Na Taebeom shot up, went back to the desk, and picked up his phone. He exhaled after checking the phone screen, which was busy ringing in his hand.

“Something urgent came up, so I have to go out.”

“Should I come with you?”

Na Taebeom shook his head.

“It’s a personal matter. The puppy can go home.”

Nam Gyeonhwa blinked at the surprisingly agreeable attitude of being allowed to go home. However, since his employer himself was telling him to go home, there was no need to deliberately stay. Just as he was about to leave the office, Na Taebeom, who had caught the closing door, poked his head out.

“Buy new clothes before you go home. If you show up in that state tomorrow too, be prepared to walk around naked.”

In a public restroom not far away, he finished cleaning up. His back and waist were stiff, but all things considered, it had ended without much trouble. After washing off not only the area between his legs but also the semen that had dried on his face, his clothes were damp. Nam Gyeonhwa, who was patting his wet clothes at the entrance of the restroom, was about to take off the device on his neck when he suddenly looked at his reflection in the full-length mirror.

Faded, splotchy second-hand jeans, a t-shirt with a stretched-out collar, and shabby sneakers. He may have washed them, but water and soap couldn’t hide their worn and shabby appearance.

I do look like a mess. Since he had never really lived with his face out in the open, he hadn’t paid much attention to his usual attire. Even when he had extra money, buying clothes or books for Haejin was the priority, so except for socks and underwear, he was practically a man with only one suit of clothes. It would surely be awkward to be seen with Na Taebeom dressed like this.

“So what kind of clothes am I supposed to buy?”

Nam Gyeonhwa, flicking his collar back and forth, furrowed his brow in a troubled manner. As a member of the Special Police Task Force, he should have a uniform, but since he was disguised as a special assignment bodyguard, it seemed they weren’t planning on providing one. Then what do bodyguards usually wear? In dramas and such, they wore suits, but was that the case in reality?

Suddenly recalling his escorts one by one, their attire didn’t seem all that formal. Gil Useong, who had briefly crossed his mind, also wore casual clothes, not a uniform, when he was with Na Taebeom.

From the Uiyeonggwan to the underground shopping arcade was the distance of one tunnel section. Nam Gyeonhwa took a look around the relatively quiet underground arcade, perhaps because it was a weekday afternoon, and bought a jumper, a pair of pants, and a pair of sneakers from a clothing store that was at least reasonably priced. He chose clothes that weren’t too flashy but didn’t look shabby, so they were all so plain they were dreary in color.

“That will be one hundred fifty thousand won in total.”

He rummaged through his inner pocket and took out the cash card that his fingertips caught. It was a card he had been given to use, but now that its purpose was specified, it felt rather burdensome to use.

“Are you paying with that card?”

“Ah, no.”

At the clerk’s question, Nam Gyeonhwa put the card back and took out a wad of bills. When he counted out fifteen ten-thousand-won bills and handed them over, the clerk tilted his head as if puzzled but took the money without protest.

It was a slight sense of caution that, although he had never said anything petty about money so far, he might say something else later using the transaction history. He didn’t like the idea of constantly increasing his debt to Na Taebeom, what with the furniture brought into the house and all.

Buying new clothes for the first time in a long while felt like an extravagance. As Nam Gyeonhwa gathered the bags in his hands, he unconsciously swallowed his saliva at the smell of oil wafting from the snack shop across the way. It was just past lunchtime, and he had expended a burst of energy, so he was hungry, but with the unplanned expense, he couldn’t afford to leisurely buy something to eat.

Calculating this and that, there were more than a few places where money needed to go. He had to visit the Mangmae house once, depending on the situation, and if he were to bring in his motorcycle, he also had to consider the additional freight costs. Depending on the progress of Haejin’s condition, he might have to get a supply of the existing medication and resume treatment, or he might have to incorporate oxygen therapy. Even if he was lucky enough to pass the review and enter Seoul City within a year, he would also need money to send to a caregiver or foster parents.

The daytime will be difficult, so I should look into early morning loading and unloading jobs. Nam Gyeonhwa’s eyes, as he passed by an electronics store while massaging the nape of his neck, caught a television. On the television screens, packed together on one wall like a puzzle, people in suits were smiling and shaking hands with each other. Nam Gyeonhwa carefully watched the face that was being focused on by the camera in particular.

Division Head Won Hyeonseong, Recipient of the Leading Circular Economy Enterprise Award.

Only after seeing the headline inserted at the bottom did Nam Gyeonhwa realize that he was Won Hyeonseong. He had never met Won Hyeonseong directly, but he remembered seeing the family pass by from a distance. The wife of the current Samwon chairman, who had accompanied him on a business visit to Yanggang, was a devout Catholic.

That day was the day Nam Gyeonhwa had just finished his probationary period in the private mercenary corps and had been added to the list of members. He had been so overjoyed at the thought that, at this rate, he might soon be incorporated into the South Korean military that he had gone to the orphanage as soon as he received his leave.

The front of the orphanage, which was always quiet and secluded, was in a state of disarray. Gyeonhwa hyung, there are a ton of reporters. The children of the orphanage, who had greeted him on his return for his leave, said, pointing across the way. They were broadcast companies and cameras that had flocked to follow the wife of the chaebol family, who had stopped by the cathedral on the pretext that the Yanggang diocese was close to her destination. It was the first time he had seen so many cameras and reporters during his time in Yanggang.

The children of the orphanage, as instructed by the men in suits, posed for photos side by side holding styrofoam panels with the message that the Samwon Foundation was donating clothes, shoes, and other items to the orphanage. The reporters focused their cameras not on the beaming children or the furtive nuns, but on the middle-aged woman and her companions. For some reason, Father Nam Gijun himself did not appear on camera, citing illness.

And less than a full year after Samwon’s visit, the fire broke out. Until now, he had never thought deeply about the circumstances before and after that, but looking back on it now, there was a strangely unsettling aspect to it.

Nam Gyeonhwa quietly observed Won Hyeonseong on the television. Perhaps because he had just heard the family story about them being half-brothers from Na Taebeom, his face looked strangely familiar even though there was no particular resemblance. As a figure currently receiving as much attention as a celebrity in the Republic of Korea, it was perhaps natural for his face to be familiar. And yet, the unpleasant feeling did not easily subside.

Na Taebeom, who was sitting in the back seat and looking out the car window, yawned with a bored expression. Instead of the usual orange lights of the tunnel, the scenery cast outside the window was of countless skyscrapers.

On the pretext of worsening air pollution, abnormal climate, and sinkhole phenomena each year, most of the roads crossing Seoul City were newly built at a higher elevation. As a result, the new buildings constructed through redevelopment naturally became much taller than before long ago, and the buildings that lost their views were weeded out, sold off for a pittance, and reborn as new, taller towers of Babel. It was such an unsightly scene that if God truly existed, he would surely want to flick the ugly desires reaching for the sky with his finger and make them collapse like dominoes.

“I’m suffocating to death.”

Na Taebeom, who had been fiddling with the tightly knotted tie around his neck, opened the car window. Even with the fresh air, the feeling of stuffiness strangely did not subside. The high-end suit, custom-made by a tailor who was said to be master-certified, felt like his whole body was wrapped in wrapping paper no matter what he did.

“I’ll turn on some music.”

Gil Useong, who had been driving in silence, turned on the audio player, and a calm melody poured out from the speakers. It was a very old song that one would wonder if anyone listened to in an age flooded with all sorts of flashy music. At the piano piece that seemed to exude the scent of old wood, Na Taebeom closed his eyes. It felt like the tension was finally easing.

The building they arrived at shortly was a newly built mixed-use department store on a site that had been demolished. The grandly held inauguration ceremony was only a celebratory feast on the surface; it was closer to a place that allowed the political and business worlds to meet legally. And at the same time, it was a matchmaking market for the old folks.

People’s gazes fell on Na Taebeom as he entered the banquet hall. Half were curiosity, half were wariness. Na Taebeom walked straight ahead without even turning his gaze. He wasn’t particularly interested, but he saw a few familiar faces. There was a client who crawled to Nakdo every week in search of drugs even after undergoing addiction treatment that cost tens of millions of won, and there were one-night stands, but they were irrelevant to today’s business.

In the most conspicuous spot in the vast banquet hall, several people stood entangled. The moment he saw the side profile of the man responding with a gentle smile, Na Taebeom cut through the people like a military general disrupting the enemy’s ranks.

“It’s been a while. Director Won.”