M 4
by Sorai… Me? Flowers?
Did he just call him that? Sehwa just blinked, unable to choose an appropriate response. He made such a casual remark that Sehwa only realized what he meant later. A famous flower… It was an embarrassing nickname that made his face turn red compared to the gossip whispered by housemates and guests, and it felt even more insulting because of it.
“Aigoo. Our director Ki is still very young. You shouldn’t judge a person just by their appearance.”
The boss clicked his tongue and glared at Sehwa.
“I was going to give him a little more time and send him somewhere good, but he’s been acting like he’s got a new favorite….”
“Somewhere good.”
The man pondered the boss’s words in a monotone voice. He seemed to understand Sehwa’s situation, or rather, his entire life up to this point, with just a few words. Sehwa kept his eyes down and remained silent, as he always did. Even the most tedious insult must come to an end sooner or later.
“I’ll assign him to you because Director Ki asked it, but don’t mess with him. He’s suddenly become popular these days, as he caught up in some military-related affairs. It will be a headache if you become involved with so-called people.”
“I see,” said Ki Tae-jeong as he flicked the cigarette he had been holding in his hand. The almost still-intact cigarette rolled on the ground. One of the men standing nearby quickly picked up the trash as if concerned that it would dirty and soil the man’s clothes.
Sehwa, who had been absent-minded, frowned in an instant. What was that? The gestures of reaching out, bending over, and picking up things. It was a gesture that anyone could make… but, to put it another way, it felt strange.
Sehwa lifted his head and looked behind the man. Until now, his attention had been completely focused on Ki Tae-jeong, so he hadn’t noticed… but the wrinkles on the pants of the guys standing behind him were quite suspicious. Even if they were freshly made, it didn’t seem likely that they would have the exact same shape and creases in the same place.
He didn’t seem like an ordinary swindler. Given how determined his henchmen appeared to be… What kind of mercenary could he be? Even if gangsters liked to flaunt their ranks, they couldn’t replicate that kind of aura. Judging by his graceful movements alone, he resembled a soldier…
“A…”
A…soldier.
An exclamation close to astonishment erupted from Sehwa’s mouth as he unconsciously recalled a certain word.
“What the hell, you… Hey, Samwol! Are you going to act all high and mighty from your first day at work? Can’t you get your act together?”
Sehwa realized his mistake and bit his lip hard, but it was too late because he had already let out the foolish-sounding voice. The boss pounded his chest as if he was about to explode while spewing vulgar words that Sehwa couldn’t hear.
Soldier…, that’s right. That man is a soldier. That was exactly what the subordinates under Lieutenant Kim’s command did. The perfect angle of the hand when folding the umbrella, or the motion of bending and straightening the body when picking up trash… He wondered why he hadn’t noticed it sooner.
A shiver ran down his spine. Ki Tae-jeong’s barely visible mouth was already forming a smug smile. Sehwa seemed to have gained certainty from the man’s reaction just now. Sehwa cleared his throat to hide his nervousness. What did the boss just say? Did he ask him to stick by the man from the beginning?
It was already too late. There was no way out. The man knew everything and had come here on purpose. That suspicious man wasn’t a swindler trying to deceive the boss with a construction project or something. He infiltrated with the intention of arresting Lieutenant Kim and the drug distributor.
“Well then, let’s stop the greetings now… Can I ask you to show me around the office?”
Ki Tae-jeong, who had approached Sehwa, wrapped his hand around his waist. It was a sluggish mannerism that contrasted with his bright and smooth face.
“I have a lot of things I’m curious about.”
His long fingers brushed up against his waist. Whistling and chuckles could be heard all around. It was a much louder mockery than usual as if they wanted to erase their nervousness when Ki Tae-jeong appeared. Of course, it was the man in front of him who created such an atmosphere. The man who resembled the figure in the painting had a much greater impact as if his mere presence had a more profound effect.
The man’s grip on Sehwa’s waist tightened as if to warn him not to escape. It appeared playful on the surface, but it possessed a terrifying strength that could tear flesh from the bone at any time. His mischievous gaze swept over Sehwa’s sweaty forehead and trembling eyelashes. It was frightening. His power was beyond words, and his ability to conceal it in front of others was astounding.
“You will help me from now on, right?” he asked, his voice filled with apparent sincerity.
Uh? Sehwa responded hesitantly, closing his eyes tightly. Black stale water splashed around his ankles every time he stumbled under Ki Tae-jeong’s strength. Sehwa’s efforts were useless, as he was soaked from head to toe, including not only his shoes but also the hem of his clothes. Nonetheless, Sehwa wished to live differently, to be more than a flower, but a person. It was almost as if he was mocked for his ambitions.
***
“It’s surprisingly neat, considering it’s an illegally expanded building,”
Ki Tae-jeong commented, tapping the office floor with his shoe. As a place where clients who spent money would visit, it was undoubtedly in good condition. Though Sehwa couldn’t be sure if it was true, the floor was not made of cheap tiles but marble, and the wallpaper was new. Perhaps the boss didn’t want to feel embarrassed in front of external guests, or maybe he had recently spent money on renovations. However, the few tacky items with gold-rimmed, resembling household items commonly associated with gambling superstitions.
Sehwa stood at the entrance, his eyes looking around. Ki Tae-jeong never spoke to him as they walked from the warehouse to the house office. He appeared to be scanning the unusual interior as if he was trying to figure out something.
Sehwa wondered when the man would begin his interrogation. His heart felt like it was going to burst. He wasn’t so scared when he was assigned to someone else’s House… He should have begun questioning sooner. It felt more comforting to spill everything he wanted to know, to shout it out, to threaten, and to confront forcefully, rather than to keep it all inside.
“Excuse me.”
Knock knock. After a polite knock, the door opened. It was the man who picked up the cigarette Ki Tae-jeong had thrown away earlier.
“Brigadier General.”
He politely bowed his head and held out his tablet. Brigadier General? Huh… It seemed they had no intention of hiding their identities anymore. No, perhaps they never had the intention to begin with.
“Wait outside until I call you.”
“Yes. I will prepare.”
By the way, what rank is a Brigadier General? It seemed like a high position. It was a rare rank to hear around, so Sehwa pretended to examine the pattern on the floor, raking his mind diligently. He knew to some extent what the ranks were. In the order of Lieutenant, Captain… and…
“Four steps above me, you’ll get the Marshal.”
As if he knew what Sehwa was thinking right now, Ki Tae-jeong kindly told him.
“The Lieutenant is six steps below me.”
Damn it… Sehwa gritted his teeth.
“By the way, my exclusive adjutant rank is a Lieutenant.”
The sweat that had built up dripped down his chin. Knowing what a lieutenant was meant that he only knew it was a high rank. However, it didn’t mean he was familiar with it or realized the significance of that position.
But that man, has a Lieutenant as his exclusive adjutant at that age? A Marshal comes up before he even folds all five fingers?
“I was wondering why your face is like that…”
A large hand suddenly approached and covered his cheek.
“What did you apply?”
His cool fingers glided over the sprayed skin.
“A different color… a few tanning sprays…”
Sehwa’s voice trembled uncontrollably. It was almost as if he was advertising his guilt.
“Tanning spray.”
It seemed to be his habit. To mindlessly mimic what others had said. If he thought it was an impressive ability, then it was impressive. Sehwa found himself wondering what mistake he had made with this man as if he had taken it upon himself to reprimand him.
“Euh… hmph…!”
His thumb, which had been pressing against Sehwa’s mottled cheek, suddenly invaded his mouth. Sehwa’s heart sank, and he trembled at the mere display of violence.
“I’ve already told you roughly who I am. Judging by your reaction earlier, it seems you’ve also figured out the reason why I specifically pointed you out…”
“Ugh…!”
The hard hand, which must have held a gun or knife more often than a spoon, rubbed the roof of Sehwa’s mouth.
“So, if you behave well, you understand it won’t end in pain, right?”