IOTF Ch 8

“She’s a woman well-known in Jeungpyeong. They say half the land in Jeungpyeong was in her name since the day she was born. She’s not like those fancy ladies from Gangnam who think they’re something special. She’s really no ordinary person, I’m telling you. You haven’t been to that lady’s house in Toronto, Canada, have you? She’s got a three-billion-won mansion in Canada, a six-billion-won estate in LA, and what else—oh, a building in Hong Kong. Man, damn it, just following her around for a tour of her properties took me over a month. Every time she opened her mouth, a nine-million-won suit would drop.”

The guy was pacing around the officetel, rambling like that without even unpacking his gym bag. He came in carrying dozens of duty-free shopping bags, told me to pick whatever I wanted, and then stuck to me, blabbering on.

“You wouldn’t believe how much money she spends in Bali. This time, I finally learned what it means to be exhausted from spending because of her. Damn it, she kept pulling out dollars and throwing them around nonstop—she’s got some serious charisma, I swear. It got to the point where I went under the table at a restaurant while eating and sucked her off.”

He’d always been a wild one. Since middle school, he’d used chat apps to sell himself to older women, and in high school, he’d go in and out of motels with teachers to earn pocket money. The moment he turned twenty, he switched to being a host, aiming for the top-tier “ten percent” clubs. Less than two years under a madam, he got scouted to Marine City, and that’s where he met me.

Park Joon was the same age as me and had a thing for older women. It wasn’t just a strategy—he genuinely felt comfort in their wrinkled faces. There was a time he teamed up with Jaehoon hyung and scammed a building out of someone. Even then, he’d slept with a woman close to seventy.

Park Joon and I were bound to get close—it was inevitable. The boss in Marine City trusted me, so I pulled forty million won as a deposit and got another fifty million to rent an officetel in Gangnam with Park Joon.

Jaehoon hyung had always been tight with me, and since he’d pulled off a big score with that punk Park Joon before, he told me that if I played that kid right, I could secure an apartment for myself.

My ears perked up at that. And why wouldn’t they? All I wanted was an apartment in my name, a decent car to drive, and enough capital to open a small café. If I could just have an apartment and a shop under my name, I thought I could live without envying anyone. So while others were playing poker, I was out scouting café locations. While they were messing around with women, I was on real estate sites checking market prices.

I was a guy who poured drinks for a living, but I had my own sense of morals. I’d go easy on people in the same boat as me while making money, and no matter how much of a host I was, I lived by the rule of not servicing men too.

If I ever got married someday, I wanted to be able to say that, even with my past of pouring drinks, I never went that far… At least to the person I’d marry—someone truly precious to me—I’d want to say that, yeah, I might’ve done dirty, stinking work, but I love you with all I’ve got now, and this is my pure heart…

“Ugh!”

A pain like a nail being driven into my chest surged through me. The nail, lodged deep in my lungs, didn’t stop at one—it bound my limbs one after another and pierced through my entire body.

“Ah!!”

A silent scream burst out as I opened my eyes. But it was as if a white curtain had been drawn in front of me—I couldn’t see a thing. I screamed again, twisting my body. It felt like I’d stuck my foot into a sizzling pot. Centered around my stomach, I felt like a butchered animal.

Then, beyond the cloth covering my vision, I saw something. I couldn’t tell if it was a person or not. My ears buzzed, and something inserted below my nose was forcing air in.

“He’s opened his eyes.”

It sounded like someone said that. I saw a black shape spreading out before me and opened my mouth. Like someone who’d given up, accepting they couldn’t live anymore, I refused to breathe. Then something warm pressed hard on some part of me and spoke.

“Feel like you’re gonna die?”

Feel like I’m gonna die? Aren’t I already dying?

“People don’t die that easily, Sunjung.”

Only then did I recognize the voice’s owner. I remembered I wasn’t dead yet and had escaped that room. But soon after, I lost consciousness. Sucked into a deep hole, when I opened my eyes again, my mind was so foggy I couldn’t process anything.

I mumbled something, falling asleep and waking up repeatedly.

It was an endless cycle. In my dreams, Park Joon was talking to me, excitedly trying to hook me up with Madam Jo. He put a thirty-million-won watch on my wrist, grinning, hyped about a Singapore trip we’d take in a few days.

Packing my bag and grabbing my passport, I’d open my eyes, and still, a white cloth covered my vision. A man’s voice would echo, I’d scream and thrash again, and when I opened my eyes once more, I’d be holding a bag Park Joon handed me, heading somewhere.

My brain felt trampled. My eyes must’ve burst too—beyond the white veil, blood still pooled.

“It’s been a week since we started pumping him full of meds. Even Dr. Choi says it’s about time he comes to.”

The word “week” registered in my ears. I caught the thick dialect through the white cloth covering my eyes.

“It’s ‘cause of that damn head of his. Take out the catheter, and he’ll wake right up, won’t he?”

I twitched slightly at Han Doopil’s voice. My eyes were still covered by the white cloth, my mouth full of an unknown sensation. Oxygen kept flowing through my nose, and my body felt numb at the fingertips, as if wrapped in compression bandages.

“Shut up, you damn bastard.”

“Hey, hyungnim, ‘damn bastard’? I’m not that young anymore. Ain’t this all for the boss’s sake? If you say this punk’s no good, I’ll take care of him myself, yeah?”

It was Baekil and Han Doopil. They were sitting at the foot of my bed, talking, unaware I was awake.

“Go get the old lady from Kyunghee’s.”

“Man, seriously, you think some herbal brew’s gonna fix this?”

A thud sounded, and Han Doopil yelled, “Damn it—!” Moments later, he left, and it grew quiet again. Amid the silence, only the sound of the oxygen tube in my nose remained. I didn’t move an inch. After some time, the door opened. Soon, Baekil’s voice followed.

“Doopil went to fetch the old lady.”

“I saw her on the way up.”

That’s when it hit me—a thick floral scent. I realized this fragrance had been constant, swirling around the room every time I regained consciousness, signaling reality. Sometimes, I felt those airborne scents seeping into my body.

“I’ll step out.”

Baekil’s voice came through. The boss was probably somewhere in here, watching me. Since he likely didn’t know I was awake, I hoped he’d just drop off a basket of flowers he’d bought and leave.

“Sunjung’s awake, huh?”

My pierced chest throbbed. Even with my eyes closed beneath the blindfold, the boss knew I was conscious.

“Did you enjoy your trip to dreamland?”

“…”

“If it’s tough, don’t open your eyes. Just stay like that.”

His words jolted my confused mind awake. I grasped reality instantly, and the moment I did, my body trembled with the urge to kill him. Tears welled up as I realized he’d done this to me. Then I heard the boss sigh. Sensing my murderous intent, he pulled out a syringe, rolled up my sleeve, and injected the liquid.

“Sleep some more, Sunjung.”

My ragged breathing burst out. He covered my eyes with the back of his hand. The drug spread, tangling dreams and reality again, swallowing everything.

When I opened my eyes, an unfamiliar woman sat before me. She wore a black suit and a pearl necklace.

She must’ve been stunning in her youth, but her eyes, etched with the weight of her life, looked fierce. Yet, there was a hint of sorrow tamed by that fierceness.

“They said you wouldn’t die and would live, and here you are, alive.”

The middle-aged woman didn’t even sigh as she looked at me.

Unable to ask who she was, I just lay there. She stuck a straw into a plastic container and held it out to me.

“It’s past time for herbal medicine, so now you need to eat human food. How long are you going to rely on IV drips?”

“…”

“It’s bone broth. I made it for our Geonwoo every time his stomach got torn up. I stayed up all night, simmering it over an open fire myself, so try it. Suck it down.”

She urged me to open my mouth as if she’d feed me herself. I furrowed my brow but gave in slightly to her insistence. As my cracked lips parted, she shoved the straw in.

“Just give it one good pull. If it’s too hard to gulp down, at least taste it.”

I had no idea what state my organs were in. Since yesterday, they’d removed the blindfold, untied the restraints on my limbs, and stopped the IV. They’d squirted watery porridge into my mouth with a syringe and given me sweet drinks too.

“It’s okay. I’m not one to say this, but I’ll come every day and feed you until you’re back to normal, young man. I don’t know what my son did or how he did it, but I’m sorry. Okay?”

The one who should be begging forgiveness wasn’t her—it was the monster she’d given birth to. I glared desperately at him standing behind her, but he didn’t flinch.

“Come on, take a sip.”

The middle-aged woman coaxed me. The moment the spoon touched my lips, a rich broth hit my mouth. Expecting something like bear soup, I coughed at the fishy smell. The indescribable odor and taste made me hack so hard my face felt like it’d explode. She quickly pressed a handkerchief to my mouth.

“It’s okay. It’s alright.”

“Guh… cough… guh…”

“This too shall pass. It’s okay. It’s alright.”

She didn’t pity me. It wasn’t concern either. Nor was it about taking moral responsibility for her kin’s actions. She was just here because the boss told her to come.

“Seeing Sunjung cough like that, he’s come back to life.”

At the boss’s voice, she turned her head.

“He needs to eat. Didn’t like it?”

At his shameless words, she let out a deep sigh.

“Enough. Stop messing with the kid and let him rest.”

“He rests better when I’m around. That’s the kind of kid he is.”

The word “kid” made my eyes burn with rage, ready to burst.

Even as she stood up, the boss didn’t bother seeing her out. He just stood there, watching me as she left the room.

“…”

“…”

His gaze and sharp silence lingered. I couldn’t see my own state, but I could tell through the heavy droop of his long eyelashes. I was wrecked—nearly lost my sight, my skin torn to shreds.

“Were you nervous ‘cause of a woman you’ve never seen before?”

Looking at the deep needle marks on the back of my hand, the boss dimmed the hotel room’s lights. In the dimness, his face came into sharper focus.

“They say she wasn’t always like that, but she got tough after giving birth to me. Still, she’s the biggest pension business owner around here. Ask her for a couple of pensions later—she’ll give ‘em to you.”

I didn’t respond. He cleaned up the fishy mess I’d spat out from not being able to eat. Dressed in another flashy shirt today, he grabbed a fresh towel, wiped me down here and there, and gave a slight smile.

That smile made me retch again. With nothing in my stomach, I spewed yellow bile, and his smile faded. He silently stared at the blood-mixed vomit, then picked up fresh clothes from the bedside table.

Soon, a caregiver came in and stripped me. As —

she wiped me down with a wet towel, the boss watched it all. His unreadable eyes showed no expression.

He observed every scar. Once I was fully changed into new clothes, he opened a drawer. Inside was a sterilized needle and a glass vial of liquid.

Like a routine, he drew the drug and injected it into my IV line.

Expressionless, he pressed the syringe.

And so, I fell asleep again.

˚｡⋆

Feeling a gaze, I opened my eyes. Instead of the minty scent he should’ve had, a strong whiff of alcohol hit me. It was so overpowering it drowned out the floral fragrance filling the room.

Drunk, the boss sat with his legs sprawled, watching me. I didn’t know what he was thinking, didn’t want to know, and had no interest in deciphering the emotions in his eyes.

Drop dead.

I repeated that to myself inwardly. He watched my sleeping face for a while before quietly leaving.

Morning came, and he greeted me with a casual face.

“Sunjung, hey. Sleep well?”

I stared blankly at him, lost in thought. Should I throw another fit and fall back asleep, or get up like he wants, piss on my own, and wander around?

Without hesitation, I threw a fit again, and he pulled out a syringe. After sleeping and waking, the middle-aged woman would show up with a straw-cup, holding it out to me. If I couldn’t eat half and threw up, the boss changed my clothes. Han Doopil would come in, grumbling, and Baekil would curse him out.

Damn it, it’s shitty.

Days passed, and I started feeling my healing wounds, grimacing. I didn’t know what drugs the boss used, but my recovery sped up day by day. If I’d had the will, I might’ve gotten up, gone to a dermatologist, and replaced my shattered molar.

A click made me look up.

The boss appeared, not in his usual flashy Versace shirt but in a thick-striped tee and jeans. He wore a leather-banded watch, and his hair, usually swept to the side, was tousled over his forehead.

…He looked tear-jerkingly handsome.

Like that, he could pass for a twenty-something. He looked like a rich kid from a prestigious university, the type popular with everyone.

“Sunjung, wanna go outside today?”

Last night, he’d come in reeking of booze again, lingering as he watched me. Even in the dark, his glowing eyes held my hand, rubbing it. I nearly slapped him for that creepy, old-man behavior but held back.

“Bought this for you.”

He placed a shopping bag on the bed. Then he removed the IV needle from my hand and reached for my hospital gown.

I smacked his hand away, and he raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t be like that, huh?”

I glared at him. It felt like blood was dripping from my eyes.

“It’s nice out—gonna keep acting like a dumbass?”

I still couldn’t speak. My mouth, busted up by some yakuza punk, couldn’t handle anything but porridge.

Glaring murderously, his big hand briefly covered my eyes. Then, with the other, he unbuttoned and stripped off my clothes.

“Ended up picking stuff to my taste.”

He pulled clothes from the bag. He put a white short-sleeve tee on me, then a logoed sweatshirt over it.

Laying me back on the bed, he took off my pants and slid on jeans similar to his. Just as I thought they’d slip off my loose waist, he pulled out a belt—as if he’d anticipated it—and fastened it snugly.

“Get up. Let’s go.”

If I refused, he’d drag me out by force. Still, I just glared, and he suddenly yanked open the blackout curtains blocking the sunlight. As they disappeared, blinding light flooded in. Through the full glass window, it hit so hard I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Then I saw it—a shimmering sea and blue sky.

Under October’s sun, the flowing water and sky felt new and beautiful, like I’d never seen them before. Even through the window, I could almost feel the breeze, stirring a desire to escape this room and step outside.

“Want a piggyback?”

“…”

“Or should I carry you like a princess again?”

He approached, grabbing my wrist with his thick hand. Pulling me up, a hoarse sound nearly escaped my throat.

“M… me…”

At my garbled voice, he smirked. But despite his words, I couldn’t stand on my own. The moment I stepped, my legs gave out, and I stumbled.

“Ugh!”

A small yelp escaped, and he caught me. Without a sound, he set me back on the bed and turned around.

“Guess I’ll have to carry you, my Sunjung.”

He wasn’t kidding. He really offered his back. Staring at the broad back of this man in a striped tee, looking like a twenty-something college kid, rage mixed with an unknown emotion surged. For a moment, I wanted to seize the chance and smack the back of his head, but he turned his handsome face.

“What, wanna hit me?”

Damn psychic bastard.

“It’s fine, go ahead. If it’s you, Sunjung, I’d take it anytime.”

His smiling profile was like a painting. I sighed, and he suddenly turned, scooping me up like a child. With a hand under my side, he lifted me so high my head nearly hit the hotel ceiling, then headed for the door.

“Baekil.”

The door opened as if on cue. Baekil didn’t even blink at us, just swung it wide.

“Guess you’re not calling Gonzo today.”

At Baekil’s words, the boss strode toward the elevator, replying.

“Nah, I almost got smacked in the head just now.”

Realizing he meant me, I jerked my head up from where I’d been resting. He pressed my head back down to his shoulder and said,

“Count to ten. Curse me out in your head while you’re at it. Closing your eyes helps.”

What the hell was this now? The elevator doors closed, and he patted my back lightly. Wondering what he was up to, I closed my eyes, smelling his expensive cologne, and did as he said—counted to ten while cursing him out. I hoped his later years would be miserable, that he’d die alone and starving. The arrival chime sounded.

Unfazed by people’s stares, he crossed the lobby, even accepting greetings.

“Sunjung, done cursing?”

I pulled my cheek off his shoulder as an answer. At the hotel entrance, his sedan waited. He put me in the back seat. A new face in the driver’s seat greeted me.

“Jang Woosung. Nice to meet you.”

A young guy, around my age. He spoke awkward Seoul dialect and even bowed his head to me.

“Our Sunjung’s sensitive. Drive easy.”

“Yes, hyungnim.”

Woosung slipped into dialect instantly. As the car started, I realized why the boss told me to close my eyes and count. My reflection in the rearview mirror was a mess.

Bruised blue, torn up everywhere—I turned my head away. Feeling the breeze through the slightly open window, he pulled me closer by my side and said,

“Woosung, head to the department store first.”

“Yes, hyungnim.”

Why a department store all of a sudden? I figured he’d take me to the nearby beach or something. As I peeled his fingers off my waist one by one, biting my lip and prying off his index and middle fingers, I felt him chuckle.

“D… don’t…”

“Don’t what? Someone might think I’m molesting you.”

It was molestation—unconsented touch. I kept pushing his fingers away. He’d just put them back. I’d remove his middle finger, and his index would cling; I’d peel off his ring finger, and the middle would stick again. Wondering what the point of this tug-of-war was, his laughter burst out.

“Sunjung.”

“…”

“Never a dull moment with you.”

Must be fun to toy with me. Rolling me around as he pleased, reading my ever-changing expressions.

He kept his hand on my waist until we reached the department store. The car parked in the surface lot, and I got out alongside him. I worried he’d carry me around here too, but thankfully, I didn’t stumble this time. He glanced at me and let me walk on my own.

Yeonsan’s department store was definitely small. But despite its size, the brands weren’t bad. Wondering what he was buying, he headed to the luxury section. Suddenly, he grabbed a hat and plopped it on my head.

“Looks good.”

“…”

“Like a kid out on a field trip.”

That one comment set him off.

He stood me up like a doll and tried all sorts of clothes on me. At first, he’d hold them against me and tell me to try them on, but later, he just bought whatever caught his eye. I lost count of how many shirts he got in my size, plus pants, tees, and jackets.

My heart pounded inside, but I didn’t show it. He moved to the next store, picking up a flashy shirt with tangled gold patterns—totally his style.

“Sunjung, how’s this?”

I stared at him like, why ask when you’re gonna buy it anyway? But then he held it against me, and realizing it was for me, I shook my head firmly.

“Why not? I think it’d suit you.”

I shook my head again, hair flopping to show my refusal. He reluctantly put it back and picked out shoes, hats, bags, and several suits instead.

Was all this really for me? Even Gangnam wives didn’t shop like this. I cared about appearances too and had my crazy shopping sprees, but I couldn’t buy like him, ignoring labels.

He pulled a black card from his wallet. My eyes might’ve sparkled, because he grinned at me.

“What, want me to get you one?”

I swallowed hard but didn’t want to seem too eager.

Instead, I grabbed a belt he’d missed and put it on the counter. Adding an expensive-looking keychain and bag, he burst out laughing.

“Yeah, that’s the spirit.”

“…”

“That’s what I like, Sunjung.”

No one hates money. He knew that too well—how it ruins lives and crushes identities. In the end, he hit three stores, casually swiping tens of millions of won. The bags piled up in both hands would be delivered to the hotel by security.

My eyes feasted, my mood lifted, and hunger kicked in. I grabbed his sleeve and, with my struggling voice, said, “Food.”

He reached out.

“Shall we go eat now?”

He scooped me up like a kid again. My face flushed briefly from him doing this in the department store, but he carried me to the parking lot.

In the car, he asked what I wanted.

“…Just rice…”

My mouth was still a mess inside—spicy food would sting like crazy. Thinking he’d figure it out, the car stopped at a big restaurant labeled “Yeonsanpo Sashimi Center.” Even in the daytime, the parking lot was packed.

“Get out.”

He stepped out first and opened the door. The glaring sun stung, so I pulled my hat down lower. He gestured for me to come. Not wanting a fight, I walked toward him. As expected, he lifted me up.

“Lots for our Sunjung to eat. Pick whatever.”

He headed to rows of giant tanks. I’d been to places like this in Seoul, but being by the sea, the variety was insane—wriggling eels, king crabs, unknown shellfish, and live octopus. Staring blankly at the bubbling water, he pointed at a tank while holding me.

“How about sea bream and rockfish? Raw shrimp and sea urchin too?”

I couldn’t eat it anyway. Especially sashimi—I’d need soy sauce or vinegar, and just imagining it made me shudder.

Ignoring that, he carried me up the stairs. People stopped eating to stare. Some widened their eyes; a woman froze with a spoon in hand.

On the second floor, a staff member led us to a room. Pre-booked, it seemed—three seats were set. Opposite the entrance, the sea stretched wide, and for a budget sashimi joint, the interior was decent.

“Bring porridge first.”

At his order, Baekil placed it. I sat on a thick cushion, taking in the sea view below. Leaning fully into it, I heard him chuckle.

“Sunjung, you like the sea?”

I nodded, eyes fixed on it.

In middle school, we went to Incheon for a fall field trip, and the sea there left an impression. My grandma said her hometown was a coastal village along the West Sea, and my dad was born in a house with a sea view.

He grew up there, but I never asked where it was. Only after Grandma passed, when a crematory worker asked about her hometown, did I realize.

I’d live my whole life as a guy who didn’t even know his roots.

“Well, it’s something we can’t do without. The deep resources, the people crossing over it—the sea acts like it gives everything while memorizing every secret.”

“…”

“It seems calm with its waves, but the sea’s got a nasty temper. If you don’t give back what you take, it throws a fit.”

Baekil burst out laughing at his words. He laughed hard, then they exchanged words only they understood. Come to think of it, both were fluent in Japanese and Chinese. The boss switched between them freely, and Baekil responded in Korean, catching everything.

I sat quietly, listening. He reached over and took off my hat. My wrecked face was exposed as my view cleared.

A staff member opening the door flinched at me. The silver cart of food rattled slightly from her shock, but she composed herself and set the table.

The appetizers—skidashi—looked tempting. All fresh, including sea urchin I liked and whelk sashimi. Knowing I couldn’t eat them, I waited for porridge. Then he grabbed scissors and tongs.

“Sunjung, what do you want first?”

Porridge, obviously. I couldn’t chew, and seasoned stuff would make me scream.

But he started deboning a grilled fish. With his big, scarred hands, he placed the flesh on a small plate. Then he grabbed peeled raw shrimp with tongs and began slicing.

“Here, try.”

Shockingly, he offered me the deboned flesh. Holding it with chopsticks, he told me to open my mouth. Glancing at Baekil, he raised a sleek eyebrow.

“Don’t want it?”

I did. But not fed by him. Staring at him, I bit my lip, knowing it’d hurt my scars.

“Stop that nonsense.”

“Looks like he wants to eat with his own hands. Guess he’s got some pride as a man.”

At Baekil’s comment, he glared at me, then set the chopsticks down. I quickly grabbed a spoon, scooped up the fish, and shoved it in. After ten days, the faint seasoning made my eyes water. The tender fish was sweet and salty, waking my taste buds.

I devoured it like a madman, then grabbed the sliced shrimp. Too eager, I scooped it with the spoon—my stitched-up mouth filled with the sea’s flavor. The shrimp melted on my tongue without chewing.

“Guess he really wanted to eat himself.”

He smirked at Baekil’s words, picking up the tongs and scissors again. This time, he cut a big piece of tuna belly and placed it on my plate. I ate it fast. It stung, but the taste drowned that out.

“Sunjung, good?”

No time to answer. I scarfed down whatever he prepared—sea urchin sushi, bursting roe, grilled hairtail.

“Like a mother bird.”

“What’s a mother bird? Raising a kid’s no big deal.”

He watched me eat with amused eyes. I took raw oysters and rolled thin-sliced sea bream in my mouth. He might’ve asked if it hurt, but I didn’t hear.

Eating like that, I noticed a small glass that’d just been sitting there.

“What.”

Instead of answering, I stopped eating and grabbed the menu. Pointing at the drinks section, he raised an eyebrow.

“Gonna disinfect?”

I nodded. He told Baekil to ring the bell. The door opened, and he said to the staff,

“Hwayo, one bottle.”

Plain soju would’ve been fine, but he ordered the good stuff. Soon, a white bottle hit the table.

“For disinfection, it’s gotta be at least twenty-five percent.”

I reached for it out of habit, but he blocked me. Opening it himself, he poured a glass.

“Sunjung-ssi, have a sweet one first.”

Mimicking a host, he placed a hand on his chest. I took the glass, staring at him. He kept grinning like something was hilarious.

I downed it and screamed. My torn mouth burned like fire. Still, I swallowed without spitting. He filled the glass again, smirking.

“Our Sunjung will be all healed by tomorrow. Might even strut into work.”

“Wouldn’t put it past him.”

The two of them teased me. I felt the now-gone alcohol as I picked at the side dishes. The boss kept refilling my glass. He also made sure I had snacks and even ordered a clear broth for me. What started as intending to drink just one glass turned into half a bottle, and by then, I didn’t even notice the stinging in my mouth anymore.

Even without the boss cutting it for me, I grabbed thick slices of sashimi and dipped them generously in sauce. How much did I drink like that? Baekil was the first to get up from his seat. The boss leaned back against the low chair, one knee propped up, watching me.

“Sunjung, sleepy?”

Having just finished the last glass, I was starting to feel tipsy. The buzz crept up, making my brain feel damp. I looked at the boss with blurry eyes and opened my mouth.

“Don’t call me Sunjung.”

At my words, he laughed as if dumbfounded and asked,

“Then what should I call you?”

“Just a host punk.”

“I don’t like just any host punks, though?”

“Good point. Don’t like me, then.”

Knowing the glass was empty, I still brought it to my lips. When the last drop fell onto my lips with a plop, I instinctively stuck out my tongue and licked them. The sweet, strong flavor made me consider another bottle, but then the boss’s hand tugged at my earlobe.

“Who said I like you?”

“That’s why I’m telling you not to. Just pay me and take your cut like you do with the other host punks you keep around.”

I could feel his gaze darken sharply. Having been around this guy for just a short while, I’d already picked up on his subtle shifts.

“Should I rip that mouth of yours open?”

“And whose fault is that?”

‘It’s your doing, you damn bastard.’

I shot back and glared at him fiercely. Just as his eyes seemed to roll back like a predator’s, he slowly curled one side of his lips.

“Sunjung, what do you think I am?”

“A thug.”

“Right. My name’s Joo Geonwoo, you know?”

“…”

“My old man named me that. It means the fifth thug.”

He spread his hand, showing me five fingers.

“He meant to turn every kid he sired into a thug like me.”

Then he clenched his fist and slammed it once on the table. Even that light hit made the heavy ceramic bowls and sashimi plates bounce.

“I’ve beaten people, stabbed them, burned them, stuffed them in drums and dumped them in the sea, and not once did I get scolded. Since I was fourteen, I messed with girls and never got a single sideways glance. When I pushed out my eldest brother and went after Joo Finance, splashing gasoline in the room where his family slept, all I got was a pat on the shoulder.”

“…”

“When I took over Rabid Hotel, I drained my second sister-in-law’s secret account and played a video of her screwing a guy I’d planted. My old man clapped for that. When I trashed my third brother’s drug ring, I got praised. You think I’d apologize to you?”

A chill ran down my spine, like a knife was lodged in my neck. That’s when I recalled a memory I’d forgotten. That day, the boss came into the hotel room and, right in front of me, drove a knife into Toad’s throat. He definitely stabbed someone with the blade that hung from Toad’s waist. I passed out after seeing the blood spray, but I’d clearly witnessed it gushing like a fountain.

“Sunjung, I told you from the start. Once I start getting paid, I rip out organs.”

His hand hovered near my jaw. He was holding back from grabbing my face roughly like usual.

“This is my turf, and you’re inside it.”

Despite his words, his eyes were gentler than ever. He was soothing my anger and being considerate of my messed-up mouth.

Even though he’d made me this way, it was as if this was his version of morality.

“If you didn’t like it, you should’ve run away sooner.”

He grinned wide. He wasn’t sorry at all, nor did he admit any fault. He was offsetting it by nursing me, feeding me, buying me expensive clothes, showing me this was his way.

He put the hat he’d taken off back on my head. Then, chuckling, he pulled me into a hug.

“But you didn’t leave.”

I didn’t leave? Did you even give me a chance to? Fine, maybe I didn’t leave, but who are you to use me however you please?

I felt like tears might spill. But I wasn’t the type to cry over this. Still, somehow, it felt like blood was weeping inside me, and a vague thought hit me. I might end up killing this bastard someday.

Stab a knife into his neck while he sleeps, slip drugs into his food, or hire a mercenary to gut him.

“Put your arms around my neck.”

But a punk like me, too weak to do it, was carried like a child and wrapped my arms around his neck. The hot stench of alcohol came from my mouth. He started down the stairs, holding me.

He carried me toward the beach. Walking along the breakwater, he headed to a street with cafés and brunch spots, sightseeing here and there. He bought me a sweet smoothie and handed me random stuff. One was a madeleine, another a seal mascot plush from Yeonsan.

As the sun began to set, he carried me on his back down to the sandy beach. Watching the sunset while clinging to him felt like a scene of boiling madness.

There was no awe or regret, just the insanity of this crazy bastard carrying me around in a crowded place, drilling into my pupils.

Against the backdrop of people snapping photos, I heard his voice: “Sunjung, this is Yeonsan.”

“Where you and I met.”

“…”

“If it weren’t for this place, where would I have met my Sunjung?”

What a load of crap. Not wanting to see the red, burning sun, I pressed my head against his back and closed my eyes. The wind whooshed, and his arms tightened under my hips.

“Yeah, our Sunjung’s getting sleepy.”

He laughed, shoulders shaking.

Listening to the sand crunch under his feet, I mulled over his words.

He’s right. I should’ve left this place back then.

The alcohol hitting me late, I returned to the hotel on his back, buzzed. He stripped me down, put me in a hospital gown, and wiped my hands and feet with a towel. He replaced the bandages good for wounds, made me rinse my mouth with antiseptic, then suddenly twisted his head to stare at me.

“If I had a kid, it’d probably turn out just like you, huh?”

Whose kid was he talking about? If I had a child, it’d resemble me, sure. One you made would look like you.

I said nothing. Humming, he tucked me into the blankets. Then he crossed the hotel room to the bathroom.

Alone, I slowly closed my eyes. Drowsy from the alcohol, I felt a vibration on the bed. Startled awake by a cool mint scent, I saw the boss climbing onto the bed in just briefs.

“Why!”

“Why? We had a drink, so we should sleep together.”

I didn’t want to. As his solid body climbed onto the big queen-sized bed, I shot up to get off, but he caught me instantly.

His brick-like hand grabbed my arm and yanked me back.

“No!”

“I won’t do anything. Just wanna hear you breathe.”

I shook my head wildly, hair flying, but it was no use. I ended up lying in his arms as he wanted. Holding me, he placed my head on his arm.

As my ragged breathing steadied, he brushed aside my messy bangs and started patting me.

“Sunjung.”

When I didn’t answer, his calm voice poured over the top of my head.

“What should I do for you?”

He asked. I glanced at the luxury shopping bags filling the room and said,

“…Apologize.”

But he just smirked.

“Be smart about it. Call it out while I’m playing the fool.”

His pole-like leg slid between my thighs. Hearing his strong heartbeat, I weighed my options. Pride, or turning this rising humiliation and betrayal into cash? It was a life where money fixed everything anyway. Clinging to pride now would just be laughable.

“How much of a fool are you gonna play?”

“Whatever you name.”

“…”

“It’s instead of an apology, so make it expensive.”

He wasn’t joking. His grin was gone.

“…Then… let me go to a dermatologist.”

Caught off guard, he held his breath for a moment. But I was serious. I’d need this face to survive another decade. Without care, even that lifeline would snap.

“More.”

“Fix my broken molar too.”

“More.”

“Pay me daily wages for the work I couldn’t do. The table logs should have it. On good days, I took home fifty.”

The first day was under 200,000 won, but it grew. Some days 400,000, with tips up to 800,000.

“More.”

“Get my stuff from the inn. Room 302. They’ll know.”

A strange silence followed. Did that last one sound too petty? Then he burst out laughing.

“Sunjung, you don’t know what a fool is, do you?”

His shoulders shook. Sitting up, he looked down at me and asked,

“Why so innocent? You should’ve asked for the whole inn building. Why just your stuff?”

“…”

“Want me to grab the shopping bags from your locker too? Pick up your suit from the cleaners?”

Was he mocking me? But these were the first things I needed to ask for. I planned to cash in bigger as I recovered, but he knew that and still giggled.

“Sunjung, come here.”

Sitting up, he pulled me onto his lap. Chuckling, he asked,

“Wanna go to Auntie’s again tomorrow?”

“…”

“Let’s show her you eating like today.”

I couldn’t tell who he meant. Instead of saying no, I said, “Let me go.” Not because of the alcohol, but because I needed to pee.

“Let me go.”

“Why? Don’t like it?”

“No, I need the bathroom.”

He narrowed his eyes suddenly, then let me go, stretching an arm across the bed.

“Fair enough, I can’t do that for you.”

I scrambled off the bed and dashed across the room to the bathroom.

Opening the door, I saw fresh towels and newly stocked amenities. Lifting the toilet lid, I glanced at the band around the amenities and read the text.

[Rabid Hotel in Prestige]

Then his words from the sashimi place hit me.

“When I took over Rabid Hotel, I drained my second sister-in-law’s secret account and played a video of her screwing a guy I’d planted. My old man clapped for that.”

Right. I’d been here so long and only now realized it.

A patient staying in a hotel room for days on end with no restrictions? Blood-soaked towels piling up, and no one kicking me out? It didn’t add up.

I paused mid-pee, lost in thought.

Was everything he said true? Did he really do that to his own brothers? Even the wildest guys don’t touch their own family. Does Joo Geonwoo not care about kin either?

And a gangster messing with his own crew didn’t make sense. Then a click sounded, and the bathroom door opened. Startled, I widened my eyes as he walked in, thick thighs bare, standing behind me.

“Why, why!”

“I can’t pee for you, but I can hold and shake it, right?”

He moved my hand and grabbed my dick himself. Pressing the tip of my full bladder, my body shivered as a drop of piss fell with a plop.

“Don’t!”

“Don’t be shy, huh?”

“No…!”

But he pressed my tip firmly. As my urethra gave way, the held-back stream burst out. He chuckled, watching the yellow liquid hit the toilet. The stench and trickling sound filled the air. No matter how I twisted, it was useless.

“Look at that pretty dickhead.”

“Ah… please…”

“So this is why you became a host? Not just your face, but a dick this pretty. You wanted to show it off?”

As the stream weakened, he tapped the tip, shaking off every last drop. Thinking he’d let go, I relaxed. Then,

“…!”

He started rubbing my dick, fresh from pissing. Shocked, I flailed, but he whispered in my ear, hand still moving.

“I’ll treat it nice.”

“Don’t!”

“Gotta let one out now. You haven’t in a while.”

He whispered low, rubbing deeper. Thinking I’d never get hard, his breath sank into my earlobe.

“You can get it up, right?”

My body shrank. His wet tongue moved as messily as his fingers once had, probing my ear. He sucked, the slimy, crawling sensation and wet sounds driving me crazy.

“It’s up.”

At his words, I looked down and saw it erect. In his hand, my swollen dick, tip tight, leaked a little.

“Fuck, so hot.”

The slapping sped up, tap tap tap. Fully hard, it dripped precum.

Then I felt his behind me. Something huge pressed my ass, matching the rhythm of his hand as he thrust his hips. Like we were mating, it jabbed between my cheeks.

His was wet too, hot and slick, the tip vivid. His thick, scarred fingers squeezed my tip hard.

“Ah! Haa! Don’t, don’t…!”

“I don’t usually do this. Don’t force what’s unwilling. But fuck, you make me like this. What am I supposed to do, huh?”

He nibbled my earlobe. My head spun with the edge of release. His panting from behind, the intense pleasure up front. Pain had buried my lust, but now it sprang free, and honestly, I loved it.

“Fuck, feels good?”

“Hngh! Ah, gonna cum!”

My vision whitened as orgasm hit my brain. Unable to hold back, I shook my head and shot. One burst led to more, my body trembling.

Panting like a madman in familiar pleasure, I stared at the glaring bulb above. It wasn’t like the one I’d seen in a sauna long ago.

As my sight cleared, I realized it wasn’t just the bulb that was different. My body, racing to climax. Shuddering in this filthy man’s arms, savoring it even as I came. Pierced by his massive dick, I didn’t think of Toad, who’d tried to rape me that day.

I only felt this crazy boss, his unique scent wrapping me, his breath and touch as he lusted after me.

“Feel good getting jerked off by me?”

I didn’t answer. With the thick smell of cum, he rubbed my dick a few more times. Shivering from the aftershocks, his tongue slithered over my neck like a snake.

“Do it too, boss.”

At my panting words, he suddenly moved, still holding me from behind. Heading to the sink, he turned on the water and started cleaning my dirty dick.

“Sunjung, you’re not gonna be fully fine by tomorrow, are you?”

“…”

“After finally letting one out, you’re not gonna be back to normal and wandering around tomorrow, right?”

He rubbed my shaft with fragrant soap, rinsed it with warm water, then carefully dried it with a towel and tucked it into my elastic pants. Finishing the routine, he carried me out of the bathroom as uninvited as he’d come in.

Laying me on the bed, he grinned. Wondering why, I saw him kneel on the bed, proudly showing off his soaked briefs.

“You told me to do it too, right?”

I had. It felt awkward being the only one, and seeing his massive erection behind me, as a guy, I couldn’t just ignore it.

Grinning wide, stretching his sharp eyes, he pulled his dick out of the briefs. It was huge again, thick and knobby like a sweet potato. Veins bulging, dripping, the swollen tip leaked onto the sheets and his hand.

Like he said, it wept just looking at me, dripping so much it wasn’t enough for the sheets. It soaked his hand too.

“Sunjung, just look at me.”

Staring down, he started stroking. Kneeling on the bed, his thick forearms and muscled body bared, he went tap tap tap. His “haa” breaths mixed with lewd slaps. His gem-like eyes oozed a dark vibe, fixed on me, his brow creasing with each thrust.

“Fuck, Lee Soyoon.”

Calling my real name, he beckoned with his free hand. Thinking he might want my mouth, I tensed, but he was just touching my relatively intact hairline.

Tap tap tap tap.

“Haa, so fucking pretty.”

His parted lips were too erotic. Under drooping long lashes, his dense eyes sent shivers down my spine. His veiny dick stroked right before me. I shut my eyes tight, and a fierce voice snapped.

“Fuck, open your eyes. Who do you think I’m doing this for?”

My hair was grabbed, not hard, a warning to look.

“I’m fucking you with my eyes right now, so don’t close them. Got it?”

His glare was terrifyingly deep. Tap tap tap, he stroked fast, still holding my hair. Grunting, he threw his head back, but his gaze stayed locked on me.

“Ah, feels so good!”

Chills hit me. I hated this Joo Geonwoo, watching only me during this act. At least now, I wanted to run. Hesitate, and I might really end up torn apart by this bastard.

Haa, haa, he kept stroking, touching my earlobe. Reaching climax, his stomach tensed, then he shot with a tight squeeze.

Hot spurts splashed onto my gown and thighs. Panting, he lowered his head.

“How’s it feel watching me cum?”

He asked, one hand sticky with cum, still gripping his shaft. My response was obvious.

Go sleep with some tall, slim woman.

There are prettier, slimmer girls everywhere, so please…

“I don’t know.”

“Why not?”

“First time seeing a guy cum.”

I’d seen it in rooms, countless times, and I’d done it too, but a guy getting off to me was new.

“Oh right, you said no one’s ever gotten hard for you.”

He smirked, tapping my scarred lips. Then he got off the bed and went to the bathroom. Returning later, he climbed in naked. Maybe he’d jerked off again. His bare dick felt soft against me.

“Come here.”

He stretched out a fragrant arm. I wanted to sleep alone, but it was too late.

He rested his head on my arm. With his warmth and heartbeat, he wrapped around my back and patted me. Then, as if struck by a thought, he hugged me tight.

“Sleep, Sunjung.”

From Lee Soyoon, I was Sunjung again.

Like he said, I wanted to be fine tomorrow and move around.