“Wow… this is no joke.”
If Jung Hwangseo was a lunatic, a psycho, then Jung Hwangyu was a rabid dog. Yeah. That was exactly it.
I’d forgotten for a moment because he’d been wagging his tail in front of me.
That Jung Hwangyu was a mad dog.
Even though he was clearly at a disadvantage, the way he showed it openly and charged in like he’d lost his mind was refreshingly insane. As if determined to beat down at least one more person, he was using his entire body as a weapon.
Arms, legs, fists, feet, head—even his teeth.
They were outnumbering him for sure, and yet the gangsters were gradually being pushed back. This wasn’t about numbers.
This was a loss of spirit.
In a fight, more than anything else, it’s all about spirit. With enough spirit, you can overturn even the worst situation. And right now, Jung Hwangyu’s spirit was completely crushing those gangsters.
“What the hell are you doing?! It’s just one kid!”
“Not a kid, a crazy bastard! Aaaagh!”
“Fuck, everyone jump him at once!”
But no matter how wildly Jung Hwangyu rampaged, there was always a limit.
At the beginning, maybe—but the more time passed, the more exhausted he became, and his spirit inevitably weakened. Sure enough, he started taking hits and getting pushed into a corner.
I looked around.
‘…That’ll work.’
Scattered across the ground were solid chunks of stone.
I gathered about five stones, each about the size of my fist. Everyone was too busy fighting to notice whether I was there or not.
I rolled the stones around in my hand.
How long had it been since I’d done something like this?
I did worry for a moment whether this body would cooperate properly—but even though it was smaller, I’d already confirmed that the strength hadn’t just remained, it had actually increased. Trusting that, I closed the distance.
At just the right range, I hurled the stones at the heads of the gangsters who were beating on Jung Hwangyu.
“Kgh!”
“Agh!”
“W-what the—urk!”
“Oh yeah~, bullseye!”
I aimed one stone per gangster. Each one that got hit square in the head dropped on the spot, unconscious. Judging by the foam bubbling from their mouths, the effect was decisive.
Jung Hwangyu looked around wildly, searching for the direction the stones had come from. The moment he spotted me, his eyes went wide as if he’d seen something he shouldn’t have, and he pointed straight at me.
“Y-you…!”
I waved cheerfully at him.
Five taken down by Jung Hwangyu. Five taken down by me with stones.
That left five more.
I picked up a wooden club that was lying nearby.
‘How long has it been since I held one of these?’
I’d always had my underlings handle things. Moving personally like this—it’d been a long time.
“What the hell, who’s that guy?!”
“That bastard threw the stones! That gigolo-looking punk! Hey, grab him!”
Two gangsters charged at me.
I stared blankly as they approached.
One of them got close enough and threw a punch straight at my face.
‘Slow.’
I dodged the punch and smashed the club into his stomach.
With a dull thud, his body flew backward.
‘Oh. I really did get stronger, didn’t I?’
I’d felt it with Jung Hwangseo too, but actually using my strength properly—
This was no joke.
“W-what the hell…?!”
The remaining gangsters looked back and forth between their fallen comrade and me, fear filling their eyes.
“…I was about to go make dinner, so could you hurry up and come at me already?”
As I spoke, twirling the club freely in my hand, the remaining gangsters’ faces drained of all color.
“If you won’t come to me, then I’ll go to you?”
With that, I charged straight at them.
They couldn’t even dodge. One by one, they collapsed under the club in my hands. With each satisfying whack of wood striking flesh, the corners of my mouth lifted on their own.
This is fun.
So fun.
I’d forgotten this feeling.
It was fun enough to drive me insane.
I deliberately controlled my strength. Knocking them out in one hit would’ve been boring.
Watching the gangsters—bloodied, desperate to survive—try to flee brought back a thrill I’d long forgotten.
“M-monster….”
The last gangster still conscious trembled on the ground as he screamed at me.
Monster.
That’s what they’d all called me back then.
Back when I was twenty.
Only then did my forgotten nickname resurface.
I raised the club.
It wasn’t over yet.
More.
More… more…!
“Park Gyumin!”
‘…Ah, shit.’
Someone shouted my name at the top of their lungs—and at the same time, the club was ripped from my hand and flung far away.
The overheated frenzy inside me cooled instantly, like cold water being poured over my head.
“…Ah… why?”
Standing in front of me was Jung Hwangyu, somehow already there.
‘Since when was he here?’
I’d gotten too excited after such a long time fighting.
Come to think of it, the reason I’d stopped moving personally after becoming Boss wasn’t because of me.
It was because of my subordinates.
They’d begged me over and over not to step in, saying I changed whenever I saw blood.
Jung Hwangyu stood there, stiff in a way that wasn’t like him at all.
…Did I go too far?
As I worried whether I might get kicked out of my housekeeper job, Jung Hwangyu finally opened his tightly shut mouth.
“…My stomach….”
“Your stomach?”
Your stomach what?
You want me to stab it? Or hit you?
“…I’m hungry… so let’s stop and go. Hic.”
The moment he finished speaking, Jung Hwangyu started hiccuping, as if even he was shocked by what he’d just said.
…What did he just say?
He’s hungry?
I stared blankly at his hiccuping face for a moment, then couldn’t hold it in any longer and let out a short laugh.
‘What the hell, Jung Hwangyu had a cute side like this?’
Jung Hwangyu couldn’t stop hiccuping for quite a while.
“T-this is just… something stuck in my throat…! It’s not because I’m scared of you or anything… hic, hic.”
Cute.
At least it didn’t seem like he had any intention of kicking me out.
Even while hiccuping nonstop, Jung Hwangyu was busy making excuses that he wasn’t afraid of me.
“Alright, alright. Let’s go. We’ll treat your wounds and eat. I’m hungry too, like you said.”
I glanced at Jung Hwangyu, now covered in injuries, and started walking.
Jung Hwangyu followed after me, hesitating awkwardly.
Listening to his hiccups that refused to stop, we headed back home.
* * *
“Ow, ow, ow! Gently, gently! I said gently! Go easy with the medicine!”
“I am going easy. A grown man whining like this….”
“L-less force! Do you have any idea how stupidly strong you are?!”
“Oh, for god’s sake. You won’t die! You won’t die!”
“Aaaagh!”
The housekeeper had changed.
Peeking through a barely opened door into the living room, Jung Hwangyeong couldn’t suppress his shock as he watched Jung Hwangyu and the housekeeper bicker comfortably back and forth.
Quietly, he closed the door again and crawled back under his blanket.
‘He changed. He really changed.’
The previous housekeeper had been timid, always shrinking back in fear.
Especially around his older brothers, he’d been even more withdrawn.
Since when had he gotten that close with one of them?
Jung Hwangyeong wriggled beneath the blanket.
A pointless sense of isolation crept in.
He’d thought they were comrades—both the only loners in the household.
And yet, overnight, he’d changed…
Could he have been abducted by aliens and had his brain remodeled or something?
Otherwise, there was no way a person could change so suddenly.
‘…He doesn’t even pay attention to me anymore.’
The biggest change was the attention directed at himself.
Before, even if he didn’t eat, the housekeeper would still make sure to prepare breakfast or dinner for him. But at some point, even that had disappeared.
When the only person who’d ever cared about him stopped doing so, Jung Hwangyeong felt even lonelier.
Now it really felt like he was completely alone in this house.
And on top of that, seeing him get so close with his brother…
‘My brothers don’t even care about someone like me….’
Even if he threw tantrums, they ignored him.
Even if he shut his mouth and refused to speak, no one paid him any attention.
Even if he protested by not eating, even if he never stepped out of his room, no one cared in the slightest.
He was starting to envy the housekeeper who spent time with his third brother.
“No. I’m not jealous.”
Jung Hwangyeong shook his head.
The thought had surfaced unconsciously, but it hurt his pride.
He was only like this because he was still young.
Once he grew up, he’d live just fine on his own—eating well, living well—without caring about brothers like them.
In fairy tales, Cinderella, Snow White—weren’t they all raised in miserable circumstances as children?
But in the end, they all lived happily ever after.
He’d be the same.
He had to be…
Grrrk—.
His stomach growled.
The snacks he’d eaten at kindergarten weren’t nearly enough to fill him.
Still, he didn’t want to swallow his pride and ask the housekeeper for food.
This time of day was always the hungriest.
Before, at least he could feast his eyes on the food the housekeeper prepared.
Now, he couldn’t even do that.
‘Even if I starve like this, my brothers won’t notice… no one cares about someone like me….’
Tears welled up in Jung Hwangyeong’s eyes.
Suddenly, he remembered when he was even younger—back when his brothers, unlike now, used to take care of him.
The pumpkin porridge they’d made for him themselves back then had been so good.
Pumpkin porridge.
‘I want to eat it.’
Looking at the noisy scene outside only made the loneliness deepen, and the hunger grow worse.
Jung Hwangyeong lay down weakly on the bed.
There was no way something like pumpkin porridge would suddenly appear, like magic—
Knock, knock, knock—.
At that moment, a knock sounded at the door.
Jung Hwangyeong pulled the blanket over his head and held his breath.
A moment later, the door opened, and the housekeeper stepped inside.
“I made some pumpkin porridge. Please try some, young master.”
…Pumpkin porridge?
As the door closed, Jung Hwangyeong crawled out from under the blanket and headed toward the tray placed on the table.
‘No way!’
There it was—filled to the brim in a bowl.
The yellow pumpkin porridge he’d been longing for.
The one he’d missed so dearly.
As if the housekeeper had read his mind.