PAHO 49

At the sudden question, Nam Gyeonhwa couldn’t hide his dumbfounded expression. Why would he be angry? He couldn’t even figure out what he was supposed to be angry about.

“Who am I supposed to be angry at?”

“Who do you think? Mr. Choi, of course.”

That seemed to refer to what Choi Pilwon had rambled on about at the game arcade earlier. Maybe he had crossed the line while deliberately exaggerating to stir up a conflict, but Choi Pilwon had uttered quite vulgar slander about fucking and what not right in front of Na Taebeom.

For Na Taebeom, who was in a superior position, it was an act of speech and behavior comparable to insubordination, and although his reaction was excessive, his anger itself was understandable. However, from the perspective of a third party like Nam Gyeonhwa, he couldn’t pinpoint any reason to be angry. If he had to pick something, it would be the gaze that made his curiosity feel blatant. Even that was just a fleeting moment that had already passed, so it wasn’t something to hold a grudge over. Na Taebeom, whose eyebrows were sharply furrowed at the silent gaze, spoke.

“Mr. Choi treated you like a male prostitute. Do I really have to spell it out for you to get it?”

“So what?”

“What?”

At the indifferent reply, Na Taebeom glared with a dumbfounded expression. Nam Gyeonhwa, who was leaning against the car window, rested his head on his hand.

“He expressed it crudely, but it wasn’t exactly untrue. In the first place, you were the one who first treated me like a fucking male prostitute, Director Na.”

“That’s why I held back my anger and let it slide once yesterday. And the dog was the one who first brought up the term male prostitute. I never specifically called you a male prostitute.”

At the confident words, Nam Gyeonhwa suppressed a sigh. What was the use of picking a fight with every single arrogant attitude? It was a relief, if anything, that he wasn’t brazenly lashing out and denying it altogether. Nam Gyeonhwa turned his head and stared blankly out the window. Even though it had only been three or four hours since they had started accompanying each other, a weariness as if a whole day had passed washed over him.

“Ha, what a waste of energy. My hand hurts.”

Na Taebeom, who shifted his body to take up more space in the middle seat, grumbled as he looked at his clenched fist from various angles.

“Should we, uh, go to the hospital?”

Gwon Jongdae asked hesitantly. Na Taebeom, who was in the middle of blowing on the back of his hand, frowned.

“Why the hospital?”

“Well, the medical center isn’t that far from this route anyway.”

“What’s the big deal over something like this. Forget it, I don’t need it.”

Contrary to his firm refusal, his hands were still fussing over his fist, and Gwon Jongdae’s shoulders flinched. He seemed anxious that he might have said the wrong thing.

Nam Gyeonhwa, who had been indifferently keeping his gaze on the car window, glanced at Na Taebeom’s fist next to him. Because he had been fiddling with the upper part so much, the knot of the bandage that the Special Guard member had so kindly tied was coming undone and dangling.

Unless he had learned it through separate military training or something, it would be difficult to wrap a bandage by himself, and seeing his stubbornness, it was highly likely that he would just take it off completely. Nam Gyeonhwa, who shifted his body slightly, snatched the bandage that was dangling from Na Taebeom’s wrist.

“Ah, fuck, what the hell.”

At the sudden contact, Na Taebeom grimaced and pulled his arm away. Nam Gyeonhwa, who let out a deep sigh, finally pulled his wrist and turned it so that the back of his hand was facing up. Through the loosened bandage, his swollen fingers and the back of his hand, which were redly bruised and scraped, were revealed.

“Doesn’t it, hurt?”

At the question that came out naturally, Na Taebeom did not answer easily. Belatedly, he spat out his words sullenly.

“Of course it hurts.”

Well, after beating a person up so savagely with his bare fists, there was no way his hand would be fine, but the injury was more severe than it looked. Since he wasn’t a doctor, it was difficult to say for sure, but he had a feeling that a bone might be broken. Nam Gyeonhwa, who wrapped the bandage tightly and secured it, spoke politely to Gwon Jongdae.

“Mr. Gwon, let’s stop by the medical center.”

“Pardon?”

“The medical center. Director, I think you need to get an X-ray.”

Nam Gyeonhwa added a calm explanation to the hesitant Gwon Jongdae. Na Taebeom, who pushed Nam Gyeonhwa’s arm away with the back of his hand, let out a threat.

“Mr. Gwon. I clearly said I’m not going.”

At the stern command, Gwon Jongdae, who had been about to check the navigation, quickly shrank back obediently. At his righteous demeanor, Nam Gyeonhwa turned his head and touched his forehead. His hand is completely swollen, what kind of stubbornness is this. He frowned and clicked his tongue inwardly. Do whatever you want, whether it hurts or not. If he pushed any further, either Gwon Jongdae or Nam Gyeonhwa himself would just become the target of his misplaced anger, so it was better to let him do as he pleased.

However, for the rest of the afternoon, Nam Gyeonhwa couldn’t take his eyes off Na Taebeom’s hand. It would be a different story if his schedule only involved conversations, but as someone who also managed the operations of the arena in addition to inspecting Nakdo, he naturally spent more time standing than sitting, and more time tapping or touching things than staying still, with a lot of both large and small movements. It would have been nice if his behavior were at least calm, but because of his impatient nature, he preferred to check things himself rather than just hear about them, so the stiff, coated bandage was in a messy state in just half a day. He wasn’t a snot-nosed kid of one or two, so he figured he would take care of it himself, but on the other hand, he kept worrying about the state of his hand.

Nam Gyeonhwa, who let out a sigh, looked up at the ceiling. Above, where steel bars were woven together like a ladder, workers were bustling back and forth. It was the construction site of an underground resort that was being prepared for opening in the second half of next year. In the middle of the deafening noise, Na Taebeom was being guided through the subsidiary materials one by one by the construction manager. He looked like a slacker, but he was surprisingly meticulous, even going over the blueprints and pointing things out one by one. Nam Gyeonhwa, who was watching him quietly, rechecked the paper bag he had placed behind his heels.

A little while ago, using the excuse of going to the bathroom, Nam Gyeonhwa had stopped by a nearby pharmacy and impulsively bought various medicines. He couldn’t help but worry, even when he tried not to. If he stubbornly refuses this too, I can just carry it around as a first-aid kit. Since they’re medical supplies with a long shelf life, it would be convenient to use them over time.

Na Taebeom, who waved his hand at the bowing officials, turned sharply and strode towards the entrance where Nam Gyeonhwa was standing. His swaggering body came to a halt in front of Nam Gyeonhwa. He stuck his head out and said.

“What time is it now?”

He had a watch on his wrist and could get the time with a simple voice command, but the attitude of deliberately asking him for the time clearly showed his mischievous intention. Nam Gyeonhwa, biting his lip, fumbled with his neck and pressed the button on the left side of the necklace.

5:24 PM! Following the cheerful child’s voice announcing the time, a dog barked cheerfully, woof woof. Na Taebeom, who smiled with satisfaction at the lively AI voice that contrasted with his stern face, said.

“It’s definitely convenient to have a little dog around. It even tells me the time when I need it.”

“It was the AI, not me, that told you the time, so if you want to be precise, you should be thanking the developer.”

“That’s none of my business. Here, since the sound came from your neck, it means the little dog told me. It wasn’t some developer whose face I don’t even know who was babbling in front of me.”

Does he think it makes sense as long as he says it? Nam Gyeonhwa, who frowned, was about to grab and slap away Na Taebeom’s hand that was tapping his neck, but he stopped and glanced at the back of his hand. The reddish bruise had already darkened to an ominous purple. As expected, it didn’t seem to be a simple bruise, but a hairline fracture or ligament damage.

He wasn’t a child throwing a tantrum because he didn’t want to get a shot, and he couldn’t understand what was so disagreeable about being told to go to the medical center. Sighing inwardly, he picked up the paper bag he had placed at his feet.

“What is it.”

“Pain relief patches and ointment. I bought the spray type because they said it can be used on scraped skin too.”

Na Taebeom, who sullenly rummaged through the bag and examined its contents, raised an eyebrow.

“Yesterday it was a box of condoms, and today it’s pain relief patches? Are you going to open a pharmacy or something?”

“That’s not a bad idea. If you hold a tournament, I’ll have to consider selling medicine in front of it.”

Nam Gyeonhwa, who retorted sullenly, shoved the paper bag into his arms as if to cut off any further conversation, and then walked away nonchalantly. It was with the intention of letting him do whatever he wanted with it, whether he threw it away or not.

“Nam Gyeonhwa.”

At the sudden call, the moment Nam Gyeonhwa turned around, something flew towards him. He reflexively caught it and checked the object; it was a box of character bandages with a spotted puppy character on it. Na Taebeom, who tapped the upper part of his forehead with his fingertips, added.

“Put it on instead of walking around with an unsightly scratch on your face. That’s the only thing you have to show for yourself, so you should take good care of it.”

It was around the time the streetlights became visible that Nam Gyeonhwa stopped running. He bent over, resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath, then fumbled with his neck and pressed the button.

6:10 AM!

At the sound of a dog barking, woof woof, after the clear child’s voice, his legs momentarily gave way. He was aware of it, but every time he heard it, it was both absurd and ridiculous.

“What a fucking weirdo.”

He sat down right where he was, leaned his back against the streetlight, and let out a long, hot breath. Perhaps because he had been running non-stop for nearly 30 minutes, he felt hot from his feet to his spine.

He closed his eyes gently in the calm breeze and rubbed his face with the back of his arm to wipe the sweat that was trickling down his temple. Suddenly feeling a sticky sensation on his wrist, he looked down at his hand to see a thin strip of tape fluttering limply on the back of his arm. It was the bandage Na Taebeom had tossed to him the day before yesterday.

It was a trivial wound. The bleeding from his forehead had stopped long ago, and it was the kind of thing that would heal naturally if left alone. He was a guy I’ll never understand. Just when I think he’s all stubbornness and hot-headedness, he takes care of such trivial things to an annoying degree, so just when I think I understand him, I can’t figure him out at all.

I’m thirsty. He touched his Adam’s apple and looked at the convenience store across the street. Should I just buy a bottle of water? Nam Gyeonhwa, who crumpled the bandage, which had almost no adhesive left, and stuffed it into his pocket, got up from his seat. As he entered the brightly lit convenience store, the clerk, who had shot up from his seat, smiled brightly.

“We meet again.”

It was the same clerk from last time. Nam Gyeonhwa, who responded with a light nod, suddenly felt a strange gaze and turned his head. Gil Useong was standing in the inner area where the tables were set up.