FOOL Ch 11

The man opened his mouth, a look of disbelief on his face. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that even the skin on his right temple and beside his ear was bumpy.

“Ha. Ye think Hanggu’s worth that much? How d’ya expect to get 45 million from a clumsy, incompetent fella like ‘im?”

“As his creditor, I’ll be the one to decide his worth.”

“Aigoo, I guess you two been sleepin’ together. He sure don’t look like it, but he must have a bitch in ‘im or somethin’. Why else would everyone keep takin’ turns to buy ‘im?”

Woonu’s face immediately flushed. His hands, placed above his thighs as he knelt, clenched into fists. Perhaps it was because I already saw him as pitiful as could be, with no room for further sympathy or compassion, that I wasn’t even that shocked. Instead, I took a moment to wonder if I should get angry on his behalf, asking why he would say such embarrassing things in front of others.

But I had to keep my cool if I was going to negotiate with the man on this huge issue. I reached out and grabbed of Woonu’s trembling fist as he clenched and unclenched the thin fabric of his pants. He snapped his head around to look at me.

“Like you said, I cherish him that way. And honestly, 45 million isn’t enough to weigh heavy on my mind. But it is enough to make me reluctant to send him elsewhere of my own free will. I heard that he has to go to Japan and China, so I brought him here to settle the matter directly.”

The man’s eyes darted quickly between Woonu and me. His face immediately shifted, and his voice softened.

“With a face like yours, I’d ‘ave believed ya even if ya told me ya were an actor ‘stead of a gangster. Show me yer business card, Seoul fella.”

His voice, which had lowered to a soft timber, as if he were gently coaxing me, suddenly regained its sharpness. His Busan accent, whether it had always been that way or he was just toying with me, became confusing. I glanced at his outstretched hand, then raised my gaze.

“Only low-ranking guys carry around business cards. I don’t have anything of the sort.”

Who would have thought that my experience of meeting and interviewing an active gang member would come in handy one day? They say that no experience in life is useless, and it turned out that they were right. Of course, that man was the head of several legitimate businesses and even had a personal business card. Although he also dabbled in the loan sharking business, he claimed to never leave traces of himself in shady dealings that could come back to bite him in the ass.

“Just as he’s indebted to ya, I’ve got somethin’ to collect from ‘im as well. Doesn’t my debt come first? Ain’t that how the law works? Even loan sharks follow the law when collectin’ money these days, don’t they? So, what I’m sayin’ is, it’s my turn first. Got it?”

His gaze, sharp as a blade, finally shifted from my face to Woonu. With a silent, waiting expression, Woonu watched the man.

“Hanggu-ya.”

“Yes?”

“Since the details and date fer China haven’t been finalized yet, I’ll try to adjust the plan. Fer now, head to Japan. Got it?”

The phone rang, the loud sound of it raising a furrow in my brow.

“Hello?”

He answered the phone and remained silent, listening to the other person’s words. After a moment, he responded with a formal “Alright” and hung up. It was a very brief call.

“There’s no need fer ya to go to Japan this time.”

Overjoyed, Woonu rose to his feet.

“Really?”

The man glanced at me and went on, “They said their Oyabun^[1] jus’ died, and they’ve switched to a new one.”

Woonu gulped at the mention of the word “Oyabun.” Hearing it made me tense up as well. I couldn’t believe that talks of the actual yakuza had come up while I was pretending to be a fake gangster. I felt dizzy, completely lost as to what was happening. The situation was unfolding like a plot straight out of a Coen Brothers movie.

“Their boss is coming?”

“Comin’ where? Why would the Oyabun come? They mentioned that some of the new boss’s men were on their way. He must be in a hurry to show off and make his presence known. Anyway, ya think they’d rely on someone like you if they had someone important comin’? They said they’re bringin’ their own interpreter.”

“Oh, that’s a relief.”

Woonu dropped back down to his knees again.

“Are you also affiliated with some sort of organization? May I ask about the nature of your work?”

The man smirked in response to my question.

“Rat.”

“Pardon?”

The man raised his left hand and shook it for me to see, then shifted his hips as he adjusted the position of the pillow. Leaning crookedly to the side, he straightened his legs.

“Wanna take a wild guess as to why I only got three fingers?”

“…..”

“I was born in 1947, and it ain’t been long since Korea started to prosper like this.”

Woonu seemed to know the story he was about to tell, an uncomfortable look taking over him. The man stretched his hand behind him, tilting his head back as he sighed and continued, “My family smoked cannel coal and decided to commit group suicide, but I didn’t wanna die, so I crawled through the stove before I passed out. As I was dyin’, the rats started gnawin’ away at me, so that’s why my hands ended up lookin’ like this. Ha, as if it wasn’t already hard livin’ enough. I would’ve died much sooner had the priest of Donghang Catholic Church not picked me up. Rats eat fallen crumbs. I became an orphan at age twelve, and I prowled around the harbour, doin’ just ’bout anything if it meant I wouldn’t starve to death. Everything I’ve ever done to survive has been the work of a rat. And ’cause I lived—”

The corners of his lips twisted into a mocking smile, and he licked his dry lips with his tongue, staring straight at Woonu and me. As if to tell us to pay close attention to his words.

“Gangsters and brokers started calling me a rat for real.”

He then glanced up to where the certificates and medals hung, shrugging his shoulders as though filled with pride.

“Rat or whatever, what does it matter? If they want to introduce me somewhere, I’ll do it, and if they want me to link folks up, who am I to fuss? I took every crumb they tossed my way and ran with them. Built me a new house on an old piece of land—one that don’t leak when it rains. Even sent my kid to Seoul National University. Got him studyin’ abroad too, over in… Hanggu-ya, what’s the name of that country Taehyung’s livin’ in again?”

“It’s Canada.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Canada. He even got married there.”

The intense pressure emanating from the otherwise unassuming man finally manifested itself. There was no way gangsters could’ve completely crushed the spirit of someone who had lived so fiercely. It felt as if a vague sense of respect was oscillating between exploitation and just the right amount of neglect. Even I found myself hesitant to be entirely dismissive of the man who had been orphaned in his teens and picked at by rats. He was aware of it, too. Why else would he bring it up when no one had asked him to?

The man who had introduced himself as a rat turned around, crossed his legs, and picked up the fruit knife. The apple was already peeled, so he set about slicing it, digging out the seeds as he went. Once finished, he slid the plate toward me, his eyes never leaving mine as he stabbed the fork into the apple. His gaze burned with such fierce hostility that it wouldn’t have even surprised me if he suddenly decided to stab me with the knife instead.

I couldn’t afford to show any fear or intimidation, so I grabbed the fork and shoved a piece of apple into my mouth, feeling the crunch as I chewed. I desperately prayed that I could pull off the role of a vulgar gangster from a holiday special movie. The moment this man, who seemed to have weathered every twist and turn life could throw at him, caught on to my feeble act, I knew I’d have to resort to force to snatch Woonu away.

“Life’s gotta be good these days, huh? You can even munch on those stored apples come late spring.”

“I thought apples were a year-round fruit.”

The man burst out laughing at my words but soon began to choke. His coughing fit dragged on for a while, and unable to bear the sight any longer, Woonu stepped in to pat him on the back.

“Aigoo, my guest nearly killed me.”

The phone rang again.

“Hello? Sorry? Oh, really? Alright.”

The brief call caused Woonu’s expression to stiffen once more. The little rascal seemed to really hate this line of work.

“Ahjussi, what’s wrong? What did they say?”

“They want ya on standby, just in case, just in case. Figured they might as well scatter ’round and do some sightseein’ while they’re at it.”

“…Alright.”

His big eyes then shifted to me. I was the only one who could save the sacrificed saint. It was my turn to draw the sword.

“You see, I have to take him to Seoul myself.”

“Didn’t ya hear the call? If yer a gangster, ya should be well aware, no? Someone like me can’t afford to go back on a promise, even if they flip the script on their own terms.”

“When are they coming?”

“Two days. Tomorrow and the day after, but they said it could stretch to three.”

“…I’ll book a hotel and wait three days before taking him. Just so you know.”

“Are ya really that crazy about him? That’s odd. What’s with all the folks into big guys? Well, I’d get it if he were pretty.”

I didn’t want to give in to his provocations, so I remained silent.

“Is there a hotel nearby without a view of the sea?”

“There’s a whole lot of business hotels near Busan Station and Choryang, so ya can head over there.”

I stood up, tugging on Woonu’s wrist as I did. He looked confused, not knowing what to do, and stumbled along beside me, half standing.

“Let’s go.”

“W-where?”

Instead of answering, I cast a glance at the homeowner.

“I’ll take him to a hotel for the night and bring him back in the morning. My condition is that he has to go back to the hotel where I’m staying and sleep there after he finishes his daily work.”

The man groaned as he leaned against the wall, grumbling about his waist and knees. His gaze was fixed on Woonu, not on me.

“Hanggu-ya, you oughta sleep here with the guest tonight. That’s my condition.”

I refused to release Woonu’s wrist, pulling him out of the room. As we exited, I looked back over my shoulder.

“Can we use the room next door?”

“Have ya had dinner yet?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Hanggu, you ain’t hungry either?”

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t wanna hear y’all messin’ around^[2], so use the room at the end of the corridor.”

I felt a sharp sting in the back of my head as we crossed the maru to the last room. My palm was wrapped around Woonu’s wrist, and through it, I could feel a burning heat. We both hesitated before the doorsill, our upper bodies barely leaning into the room, unsure if we should enter. It seemed the man had followed us out; the sound of his phlegm hitting the yard startled us into rushing inside.

“Uh… my wrist.”

“Oh, right.”

As soon as I released his hand, my gaze shifted to the open door. Woonu was just about to close it when the man shouted loudly, “Hanggu-ya!”

“Yes? Yes!”

“Don’t go messin’ up the blankets, and if you can, just try to hold it in.”

“Okay! I-I won’t!”

He seemed embarrassed to have his shortcomings laid bare before me. Woonu quickly spread out two blankets and pressed himself against the wall, hesitant. Having just pretended to be his lover, I felt equally awkward. Woonu’s flushed face showed no signs of calming down, and even the back of his neck was now as red as a tomato.