M 1

“Oh, Sakura is here?”

Maejo snapped his finger at Sehwa, his face swollen from his latest stunt. He wasn’t calling him to check on him. Sehwa knew about it, but he couldn’t think of anywhere else to participate other than where he was sitting. He felt sorry for himself because he couldn’t even find a place to warm up in front of the fire drum. But. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he hadn’t.

“Why are you moving so slowly like a scumbag who hasn’t eaten in days.” ​

Sehwa carefully stepped aside, ignoring Maejo’s words. It was impossible to tell if the pooled water on the ground was rainwater or rotten corpse water. Of course, he won’t be able to avoid getting his feet wet even if he walks carefully. The ground beneath the shabby warehouse was uneven and dotted with puddles of unknown origin.

“Ugh…”​

Sure enough, the dirty water eventually splashed on his ankles. Some of the people who were drinking and warming their hands in the fire laughed at Sehwa. As if they couldn’t understand why he kept trying to avoid the filth when there was only a difference between deeper and less deep in the first place. ​

Whether or not they laughed, Sehwa walked carefully again. It was his nature. Even if he knew it wouldn’t work, he wouldn’t rush in, and he’d keep looking for a new side even if he knew she couldn’t change it. To put it mildly, he had grit, but he couldn’t grasp the subject. ​

Most people here looked at Sehwa from the latter perspective. Isn’t that what life was all about outside? In any case, the water on the ground is wastewater. No matter how hard you try, it will not magically transform into holy water or champagne.

Still, Sehwa straightened his back. That spear cub was a walking twist, and while listening to the back words, he made a straight posture and teased his steps gently.

Of course, Sehwa was no different from those who mocked him. He didn’t believe in God, but he did believe in money. He lived by telling cheap lies with his tongue and face, selling everything he could sell. Even yesterday, while piercing the customer’s forearm with a needle, he stole an amount several times the promised amount. Sehwa was much more skilled in this type of work than in bluffing or trickery in gambling.

He didn’t want to pretend to be aloof on such a subject. However, they say that not all trash is the same. He thought it didn’t make any sense. Even if it was the same sewage, there was a big difference between food scraps and rotting corpses. At the very least, he wanted to be a recyclable trash. So Sehwa worked hard not to cheapen himself. He didn’t walk around splattering water and spitting phlegm everywhere. Sometimes he paid fines on behalf of sick workers, and he willingly used his money when he saw hungry kids. ​​

It’s that senseless act that keeps Sehwa alive to this day.

​This halfway hypocrisy made Sehwa live as a human being, not a piece of trash outside of society.​

“But, why is your face like that every time I see you?”

​Rough hands with half-erased fingerprints carelessly grabbed Sehwa’s face.

“Why does a bastard who has nothing but a table stand keep running around like this? You’ll run out of customers.”​

“I’m paying you well, so it’s none of your business.”

Sehwa removed the nasty hand that was crushing his cheek with a calm expression.

“Do you even look at yourself in the mirror? Even the idiots I caught will run away when they see you.” ​

As Maejo pointed out, it wasn’t a very nice look. Sehwa sprayed tanning spray on his thin skin and combed his untrimmed, shaggy hair so that it looked like a giant lollipop walking from a distance. And that was just the beginning: a beige gingham plaid shirt crudely emblazoned with the LV logo and a pair of out-of-date sunglasses with Gucci branding on the bridge. It was a combination of crude knockoffs that wouldn’t sell in a market.

These crude appearances were perfect for sneaking around the neighborhood. The ferocity of the outfit helped to conceal his physical features. Best of all, the cheap tanning spray he used on his face was useful. He had no idea how it worked. He could only guess that one of the product’s ingredients temporarily disables the detection device.

“I heard you’re making good money these days. What are you doing with it? Buy some clothes.”

Sehwa shook off the shoulder that his hand had touched with an annoyed expression, and a disgusting curse poured out. But even if Sehwa had to live like this for the rest of his life, it seemed like he could do it. Because of his clown-like disguise, he was able to sell drugs far beyond the district. It was a blessing in disguise that saved him from a lot of debt. In addition, his scruffy demeanor turned off a lot of the guys who were hitting on him. Money is money, but getting rid of those who were bothering him was not so easy.

It was Lieutenant Kim who informed Sehwa of this crude appearance. At first, he didn’t even know what Lieutenant Kim was doing. He seemed to have a lot of money and a good status, but why was he taking drugs here? That was all of his impressions of Lieutenant Kim. Well, originally, most of the guests visiting the house outside the castle were people like that, so Sehwa wasn’t interested in anything more than that. As long as he could earn money anyway, the customer’s status or occupation didn’t matter at all.​

Then one day, the pathetic old man offered him a deal he couldn’t refuse.

Sehwa, who was coming out after finishing his evening business, which had been particularly unpleasant, was caught by the hair of men who came out of nowhere. Some of the workers behind him were so surprised to see him being dragged away that they pulled down the shop shutters and hid.

It was so sudden that he couldn’t even protest properly. Inside the black jeep, men with scary faces were guarding their seats. Even just by looking at it, Sehwa felt that it was on a different level from the gangster who guarded the house. They smelled like crooks who were good at catching and killing people.​

After grasping the situation, Sehwa gave up all resistance. There was nothing he could do, so he just kept quiet. There were often players who suddenly disappeared in this way. Customers who had lost all of their stakes and turned their gaze away would sometimes do this. Of course, the House knew it all but condoned it. Whether it was the money earned by selling players’ organs or the money earned by selling their bodies, it was fine as long as the guests who were blinded by gambling and drugs could give money to the House.​

If he was going to fall further down here, Sehwa wanted to die as painlessly as possible. He was very crumpled thinking about that… Surprisingly, the place where the jeep stopped was in front of the checkpoint on the border of the three provinces. What was even more surprising was,

‘Are you surprised? I thought you wouldn’t believe me if I didn’t bring you here.’

A regular customer, a pot-bellied drug dealer, smiled brightly at Sehwa.

The man appeared to be in better shape than he had been when he visited the House and confessed that his rank was so-called. A lieutenant. Sehwa couldn’t even guess how high that person was. Anyway, Lieutenant Kim said he did this because he had something he wanted to suggest to him. Surprisingly, as soon as Sehwa heard those words, electricity surged from his toes. He acted calmly as if it was something he had always prepared for, but in reality, he was very nervous.

He wanted to live, but he was afraid it would really end like this.

Even if he had to roll around like a rag, Sehwa wanted to live a little longer. He didn’t want to die this way. He didn’t want to die like a dog whose organs were eaten alive. He felt deeply, earnestly, and intensely, to the point where he despised himself for having such servile thoughts. ​

Lieutenant Kim uncharacteristically continued to twist his words as to how he interpreted Sehwa’s rigid face. ‘I’ve always admired your dexterity, and I’ve never seen anyone roll drugs as neatly as you do, and the things you handle have a clean aftertaste…’ Only then did Sehwa relax. It was a clear-cut move. That’s obvious. He was most likely telling him to sell his body, not just his drug. ​

Of course, Sehwa wanted to refuse. Those who didn’t know the whole story were calling him a male prostitute or a slut, but the truth was, Sehwa didn’t dare to do that. He wasn’t inexperienced. There were times when he purposefully created a sexual atmosphere while delivering drugs. He was even quite adept at calculating his limit. However, that didn’t mean he hugged his customers like a cheap prostitute.

It may be easier to do business if he gave up his body when he set the table, but the effect would be short-lived. Once customers get a taste of freebies, they never want to pay full price. Instead, they’ll demand more and more. It was not because there was such a grand gesture of purity, but he tried not to be easy because he knew that he couldn’t last long in this field with such a sales method.​

But how could he turn down a customer who ranks as a lieutenant? Did he even have a choice? Sehwa chewed his lips nervously. People were so flippant. A moment ago, he had thought he could do anything to live, but now he wanted to resist.

That’s why he believed it couldn’t be avoided. Living outside the district as a lower life, paying off debts he didn’t even know. He was disgusted with himself for shouting about basic dignity and self-respect, only to throw everything he owned away for the slightest intimidation. It was a disgusting and pathetic instinct.

‘Oh, no. I don’t mean to ask you for anything weird.’

Lieutenant Kim hurriedly waved his hand as he noticed Sehwa’s shoulders trembling. He patted his shoulder, telling him that he never brought dirty deals and that if he joined hands with him, he could fend off any customers who would ask for such things.

‘Do you want to sell drugs with me? Even beyond the district and the castle. There are quite a few people waiting.’

The only condition he offered was…

“Huh? Sakura, long time no see?”

Odong, who had appeared at his side unexpectedly, smiled as he tapped Sehwa on the shoulder. Haa… As Sehwa swallowed the insults and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling, Maejo came and nudged him again.

“Asshole, don’t be a jerk. Why are you being so mean to your own family?”

“How many times have I told you not to call me that?”

“Huh? I called you Sakura because it’s your name, so what should I call you?”

“I mean, If you don’t want to go with March, why don’t you kill someone else? You can kill him and take over the month.”

In this House, from the chief to the staff, you could have nicknames from Hwatu cards. Songhak in January, Maejo in February, Odong in November… something like that. The symbol of Sehwa was Sakura in March(Samwol). Originally, it was almost going to be Peony or Moran in June, but one of the staff called Samwol suddenly died, so Sehwa ended up using that nickname.​

“Why do you keep using those words that even the little kid hates? We have words like Samwol and Hongdan that sound much nicer. Let’s use our beautiful language instead of the vulgar language that lowlifes use.”

Moran interjected. He was the one who took over June, which could have been Sehwa’s. The person who stopped him was more vicious than the person who hit him. When Sehwa looked at him, he drew the poker that had been burning the bonfire down to his lower abdomen and shook it viciously.

Sehwa turned his head away as if he didn’t want to deal with them. It was an obvious provocation, an everyday occurrence, but just because he was used to it didn’t mean he didn’t care how they treated him. He knew they were doing it because they wanted to see him lose his temper, and he didn’t want to be swayed by their provocation, so he just let it slide.

Sakura, Hongdan-i, and sometimes Samwol-i…

He’d told them hundreds of times not to call him by that nickname, but no one listened to the words of a mere creditor, petty hustler, or drug dealer. Still, Sehwa spoke tirelessly every time.​

His name is neither Sakura, Hongdan, nor Samwol.

Sehwa,

His name is Lee Sehwa.

It was like walking carefully on the warehouse floor every time, even though he knew it would make no difference. He was afraid that if he became angry about it, he would become such a backward person. ​

Surprisingly, only March lacked a proper nickname among the Hwatu cards. As Moran said, there was a pretty Korean word for cherry blossom. But no one would ever say it, the bottom dwellers convinced that saying such a great word would diminish their masculinity. Assholes. This place was full of nasty and pathetic assholes. Of course, Sehwa himself was no exception.

​March.​

To Lee Sehwa, March was a useless season. March is just the end of winter. Looking at the temperature, it was more winter than spring. However, he seemed to be the only one who thought so.

Ordinary people were busy celebrating new beginnings in March. Children go to school, people get married… For various reasons, customers’ stakes and money for drugs were diverted elsewhere. As a result, there were more people who took advantage of the situation to make a profit, but the interest in the profits was never going to benefit people like Sehwa.

What’s the point of praising March on the news, when everybody gets poorer in this shitty month. All they did was sing songs about money as if there was no other way than to eat like a swarm of locusts and die.