PAHO 7

Nam Gyeonhwa, having entered his assigned room, leaned listlessly against the door. He had been moving nonstop since dawn, and now that the tension had eased, his body felt as heavy as waterlogged cotton.

His plan to buy just a drink or two in exchange for some useful information had been rendered pointless, as Kim Hangyeol had clung to Nam Gyeonhwa and chattered away relentlessly. What’s your name? Why are you so handsome? and so on. He was so talkative that even when he was too drunk to stand properly, his mouth never stopped moving.

By the time he left Kim Hangyeol with the bartender and exited the pub, the subway that ran within the underground district had long since stopped operating. It was a good thing the motel was upstairs; otherwise, he would have ended up collapsing somewhere on the street and wasting a whole day.

Pressing his forehead, Nam Gyeonhwa took a moment to catch his breath before slowly looking around the room. It was a sort of habit of his to size up any place he entered at least once.

The room was neither very bad nor particularly good. Strictly speaking, it was exactly as he had expected from its outward appearance. The colorful floral wallpaper visible under the dim lighting, the carpet with its chaotic patterns, the bottles of water of unknown origin in the lukewarm refrigerator, and the mirror engraved with the business’s anniversary date—it was a place that had clumsily put together the basics but had not managed to shed its shabby appearance.

Nam Gyeonhwa tossed his backpack carelessly onto the floor and collapsed sideways onto the bed. In his mind, he knew he should wash up, but he didn’t want to lift a single finger. In any case, judging by the state of the bedsheets, it might be better to stay clothed.

As if there were a biological motion sensor, the television had turned on at some point and was now broadcasting commercials. Similar advertisements changed every few minutes, from a virility-enhancing supplement featuring the awkward acting of a middle-aged man dressed as Popeye, to promotions for outcall massage services.

The colorful screen quickly tired his already strained eyes. Nam Gyeonhwa turned his body completely to the other side, rummaged through his pocket, and took out his phone.

A full day had passed since he started the job, yet he hadn’t received so much as a single text message from Min Chanyoung, let alone a phone call. He knew he had to meet someone in the Seoul Special Underground District and receive an item, but he had not been given any additional information about who that person was, or where and how to find them. He didn’t even know what the item was.

Even if it was a factory that had been all but abandoned in the boondocks, for a security team of a major corporation to move so secretively, even bringing in an outsider, it seemed they didn’t want to make the situation a big deal. Therefore, if he acted on his own, it could actually complicate matters. And would it be fortunate if things only got complicated? If it became difficult to even resolve the situation, they would surely shift all the responsibility onto him.

“I guess I’ll have to be on standby for a while.”

Nam Gyeonhwa rested his head on his arms and blankly counted the stains on the ceiling. Seeing a few glow-in-the-dark star stickers, he thought of his young sibling he had left behind in Mangmae County. This was the first time he had been away from Haejin for several days, not just for a half-day. Perhaps because of that, even though he knew Jo Yongsik would take good care of him, he found it hard to shake off his worries.

He recalled the museum and musical posters he had glimpsed as he passed through the city. He would have definitely liked it if he had come to Seoul with me. He enjoyed watching even that old, shabby television in the apartment’s common area so much; if he had come here in person, he would have been excited for days on end.

If he successfully completed the job, not only would the charges for the illegal trespassing they had previously taken issue with be dropped, but he would also receive a large commission. Although it was under a borrowed name, he had signed a contract, and since Min Chanyoung had contacted him directly, putting his position as the security team leader on the line, it didn’t seem likely he would be scammed. This was, in effect, hazard pay.

He let out a ragged breath that had risen to his chin. His heart pounded wildly as if it would leap out of his chest, and the area around his eyes, where sweat and hair were matted together, felt dizzy.

Tweet, a whistle blew.

His body flinched reflexively, and a chill ran down his spine. Nam Gyeonhwa recoiled and was about to turn and run blindly. A strong force grabbed his shoulder, and then a dozen arms wrapped around his body like a bundle.

Let go of me!

Nam Gyeonhwa frantically shook off the hands, placed his palms on the floor, and forced his legs to move. His body, submerged in mire, would not move as he wished. Dragged back again, Nam Gyeonhwa’s face was shoved into the ground. Click. At the sound of a pants buckle being flicked open, he struggled and cried out.

No, please, don’t…!

The body heat pressing close behind him suffocated him. He threw his arm back to push it away somehow, but someone twisted it and held it. While his shoulder blade ached as if it would be torn out, the sensation of being crushed from below was chilling.

A long shadow fell over him. The black figure lightly touched Nam Gyeonhwa’s cheek with the toe of its combat boot. Our Gyeonhwa needs to be retrained from the beginning. Laughter pierced through the dizzying surroundings. As his body heaved weakly, countless dog tags clanked and swayed.

Having managed to sit up, Nam Gyeonhwa covered his face with both hands. His huddled body trembled uncontrollably. Clutching his arms, he spent a long time catching his breath.

He had a fucked-up dream. It was a disgusting and terrible nightmare, as if he had been doused in filth from head to toe.

“Fuck…”

A headache that felt like it was ringing in his skull made a curse escape his lips, but just for a moment. From the next room, the sound of a wall thumping was accompanied by a shrieking moan. It seemed the guest in the next room had played a significant part in his having a nightmare.

“Fucking hell.”

Frowning, he could no longer stand it and pounded his fist hard against the headboard, almost as if he were trying to smash it. For a moment, it seemed to have quieted down in response to the unspoken complaint delivered through the biscuit-thin wall, but then all sorts of sounds started flowing through the wall again. Now it seemed they weren’t even trying to hide what they were doing.

Sighing, Nam Gyeonhwa picked up the remote and turned up the television volume. He judged that the white noise from the television would be better for his mind and body than the pig-slaughtering moans of a man he didn’t even know. When the red parrot in the commercial shouting about erectile dysfunction treatment mixed with the noise from the next room, it became impossible to tell which was the sound of an animal.

Since he was now wide awake, he headed to the bathroom to take a shower. The water heater must have been turned off, as only cold water came out of the showerhead, but washing his body with the cold water actually seemed to gradually soothe his lukewarm headache.

Standing under the pouring water, Nam Gyeonhwa saw his erect penis between his thighs and bit his lip. Even though he knew it was just a physiological erection, he felt disgusted with himself, beyond just being displeased. How could he get aroused after having such a fucked-up dream?

He lightly gripped it with one hand and squeezed his eyes shut. Even with a perfunctory rubbing, his lower abdomen throbbed.

“Hngh.”

With a single cry like a sigh, the semen pooled in his palm was diluted by the stream of water and quickly sucked down the drain. Even after that, Nam Gyeonhwa remained under the cold water for a long time.

An hour later, the bottled water from the refrigerator was still lukewarm. After lightly wetting his throat, Nam Gyeonhwa was aimlessly flipping through the television channels when he suddenly stopped at one scene. The underground fighting ring match he had glimpsed at the pub was being rebroadcast. He hadn’t been able to see their faces clearly then, but this time, perhaps because he was closer to the television, the expressions of both fighters were as vivid as if they were right in front of him.

Among them, the one who stood out was the black-haired man. Na Taebeom, was it? The man who, according to Kim Hangyeol, was the de facto power in the Seoul Special Underground District, looked to be around thirty at most. Considering the power dynamics here, he had thought he would be middle-aged, which was surprising, if anything.

Na Taebeom wiped the blood splattered all over his face, then suddenly looked up at the camera and grinned. It was nothing more than simple showmanship, not a provocation aimed at anyone in particular, yet meeting his piercing, fierce gaze made the back of his neck tingle for no reason. He felt as if he were defenselessly exposed to a raw, arrogant wildness.

At that moment, his phone vibrated. Grasping his mostly dry hair with a towel, Nam Gyeonhwa picked up the phone. It was a call from Min Chanyoung.

─ Were you awake, or did you just wake up?

“I woke up a little while ago.”

─ Your voice doesn’t sound so good. Is everything okay?

For someone calling in the wee hours of the morning instead of during the day, his tone was carefree. Perhaps he was calling on purpose to see if he had deserted.

“I’m fine.”

─ Really?

“Yes.”

Nam Gyeonhwa, pulling on the spare clothes he had packed, answered dutifully and waited for him to speak. Min Chanyoung made a short sound with his lips before getting to the point.

─ They just contacted me. They want to meet between Tuesday night and dawn, three days from now.

“Where should I meet them?”

The answer to his casually asked question flew into his ear like a bullet. Even after the call ended, Nam Gyeonhwa stared down at his phone for a long time. His eyes were cold and dark.

Kim Hangyeol, who was sucking on a lollipop at the bottom of the stairs, shot up the moment he saw Nam Gyeonhwa coming out of the entrance.

“Hyung-nim! Good morning!”

Nam Gyeonhwa glanced sideways at Kim Hangyeol, who greeted him cheerfully, unaware that his tongue had turned bluish from the food coloring, and bent down to retie his shoelaces. Kim Hangyeol, whom he had thought he would not see again after the weekend, had been loitering in front of the motel entrance with his buddies every morning.

He knew that the stray dogs had an unwritten rule of not even speaking to non-members, but he couldn’t tell if Kim Hangyeol was just peculiar or if things were different because it was Seoul. Or maybe he considered him a money source with something to gain.

“Are you having a convenience store sandwich again today? You shouldn’t do that, you need to eat a proper meal. Don’t they say Koreans run on rice power? There’s an ox-head gukbap place at the end of the motel district that’s absolutely to die for.”

Kim Hangyeol, who had been grinning to himself in excitement, spotted the backpack on Nam Gyeonhwa’s shoulder. Seeing that the man who hadn’t set foot anywhere but the convenience store for three days had even packed a backpack, he must have been planning to go somewhere.

“Where are you going? If it’s a place you can get to through the tunnel, I’ll give you a ride.”

At the offer, accompanied by the honk of a motorcycle, a friend watching from the side let out a playful gasp. Kim Hangyeol’s face turned red, but he stood firm. It had been a mess from the first day anyway, so being ignored was no big deal. Isn’t there a saying that no tree can withstand ten strikes of an axe? Just when he thought his devotion over the past three days might earn him at least a glance, Nam Gyeonhwa turned his head.

“Is there a place where I can rent a motorcycle?”

“Pardon?”

“Because it seems you wouldn’t really want to go to the place I need a ride to.”

“Uh, where are you going?”

Kim Hangyeol fell silent after checking the sign across the street that Nam Gyeonhwa indicated with a glance. On the green metal plate, the words “Wiyeonggwan” were written in large letters along with an arrow.