As Cheongyeon poured a fresh beer, new orders came flooding in from every corner. Since Mu-won’s arrival, the once frozen atmosphere of the Dandelion Tavern had quickly come alive again.
While Cheongyeon carried mugs of beer and grilled dried snacks—squid and fish jerky—Mu-won switched his drink of choice to strong whiskey. Just like the time he had boosted a month’s sales in a single night, today he once again ordered the most expensive liquor.
It was Cheongyeon’s last day at this part-time job. Though there had been plenty of ups and downs, he consoled himself with the thought that he might receive a hefty bonus.
As he wiped glasses, Cheongyeon stole glances at him from time to time. Ever since the split lip incident, Mu-won had been drinking quietly. He had nearly emptied an entire bottle of whiskey, yet he hadn’t caused a drunken scene or picked a meaningless fight. If anything, he would do such things while completely sober…
“Shall I pour you more?”
When only a single shot remained, Cheongyeon asked cautiously. Tilting the whiskey bottle, Mu-won let out a laugh, as though dumbfounded.
“Wow. First time I’ve seen some bastard try to hustle me.”
The remark sounded careless, but with those bright golden eyes, it did not come across as a joke.
“That’s… not true.”
Who in Cheonghwajin would dare treat Tae Mu-won like some gullible mark? Of course, Cheongyeon could not deny that he did harbor selfish hopes for that bonus.
“The tavern owner here—she sells herself along with the drinks.”
Suddenly, Cheongyeon recalled how the owner had asked him about Mu-won in such a meaningful way.
“You saw him, didn’t you?”
“…Pardon?”
“That inn right across from your shop. Of all places, it had to be there.”
At last, the situation began to make sense. Perhaps the owner and Mu-won… at the inn across from the medicine shop…
Cheongyeon forcibly cut off the thought before it could fully surface.
“And when the owner isn’t around, what should I take instead?”
“Shall I prepare you some side dishes on the house?”
How many times had it been now? Mu-won kept testing him. Which meant Cheongyeon had to guard his tongue carefully. This man—once he decided someone was a whore, he would never change his mind. Considering how he had suspected Cheongyeon of smuggling Flowers of Vengeance without a shred of proof, it was not an unreasonable fear.
“You know something?”
“…I don’t.”
Mu-won downed a glass of whiskey the same golden shade as his eyes.
“You picked the right trade. Herbalist—it suits you damn well.”
Startled by the sudden compliment, Cheongyeon blinked. Was it praise or mockery? Likely closer to mockery. Still, Cheongyeon bowed his head slightly.
“Thank you… truly.”
“Fuck your thanks.”
Snatching up the neck of a new whiskey bottle, Mu-won rose to his feet. Cheongyeon watched nervously. Passing the bar, Mu-won strode toward the cluster of patrons and sat in an empty chair—right beside the younger of the twin brothers. Too stunned to flee in time, they could only sit there, pale-faced, eyes darting.
Mu-won poured whiskey into the younger brother’s glass. He didn’t strike him with his fist, but served him liquor instead, leaving everyone dumbfounded. The younger brother, as if receiving grace from Mu-won’s sudden change of mood, held the glass with both hands and bowed.
Mu-won set the bottle down and rested his chin on his hand.
“Drink.”
“Yes, boss! Thank you!”
The younger twin gulped down the raw whiskey without even ice. He carried out Mu-won’s command without pause, his cheeks flushing red. Hope flickered in his eyes, poorly hidden—perhaps he thought, for some reason, that he had won Mu-won’s favor.
“How does liquor taste when poured by a whore?”
Cheongyeon froze. The tavern had grown so silent that Mu-won’s voice rang clear. The younger brother’s cheeks quivered with fear and tension.
“Th-that’s… I mean, I didn’t… I wasn’t implying—”
“Maybe you’ll know if you drink more.”
Grinning wide enough to bare his teeth, Mu-won upended the bottle, filling the glass again. The younger twin’s hands shook violently as he tried to hold it.
From that smiling face, it was impossible to tell whether he was furious or truly amused.
“Uh… Mu-won-nim…”
The elder twin, watching from across the table, forced a servile smile as he tried to speak.
Crack!
Quicker than a beast, Mu-won swung the whiskey bottle down on the elder brother’s head. The impact shattered the bottle in a single blow, jagged glass teeth jutting outward. The elder’s eyes rolled white, and he collapsed unconscious. Mu-won struck him again on the back of the head, the broken edges growing sharper still.
“Brother!”
Blinded by frantic loyalty, the younger twin charged. Mu-won thrust the broken bottle downward. Blood and torn flesh spattered from the younger’s hand as he tried to block.
Screams burst from the patrons, scattering like a tidal wave crashing through the tavern. Those closest to the door had already fled outside in panic.
Cheongyeon stared at the younger twin’s ruined hand. Mu-won was stabbing the same spot again and again on purpose. The younger fought back—throwing punches, ramming with his body—but it was all useless. From his vantage at a distance, Cheongyeon clenched his trembling legs just to stay upright.
Was this what a fight between child and adult looked like? No—perhaps more like a god of war against a mere human. The younger did everything he could to land a hit, but compared to Mu-won’s movements, he only flailed. The disparity in strength was so vast, it made one wonder if they were even the same species.
Cheongyeon saw himself reflected in the blood-soaked younger twin. His own palms prickled as though they had been torn open. No—if it were him, he wouldn’t even have thought of resisting. He would have died screaming in some corner of the tavern already.
At last, the younger twin was driven back against the wall. Mu-won, glancing at the now-unrecognizable bottle, struck the younger’s jaw with his left fist. A sickening crack sounded. Like his brother, the younger’s eyes rolled back, and he slid limp against the wall.
Those golden eyes, blazing like a mad beast’s, turned toward Cheongyeon. He thought of the kitchen knife behind the bar, but he didn’t reach for it. Better to keep fangs hidden if they weren’t sharp enough to leave a scratch.
Blood dripped steadily from the broken whiskey bottle. Cheongyeon retreated until his back pressed against the liquor display.
“Hey.”
He swallowed hard, tried to answer with a “Yes,” but only his lips moved. His voice wouldn’t come out.
“If you don’t clean up these bastards, you’re dead too.”
Wham!
He hurled the bottle straight into the younger twin’s face.
******
‘Why is the boss of the Peira, Tae Cheon-oh, searching for the Flower Clan?’
Cheongyeon lay under his blanket, nerves strung taut.
The owner never returned to the tavern, even as dawn crept in. And because of Mu-won’s parting words, Cheongyeon had only given the place a rough cleaning before heading home. He had tried to force sleep, but it was impossible.
“If you don’t clean up these bastards, you’re dead too.”
He hadn’t liked the twins, but neither had he wished them dead. After Mu-won left, Cheongyeon had lingered for a long time before shaking the elder brother. For a moment he feared he was dead, but thankfully there had been a faint pulse at his temple.
The younger, though more gravely injured, was easier to rouse. With his jaw dislocated, he couldn’t even curse properly, but he managed to hoist his unconscious brother on his back. Since Cheongyeon hadn’t removed them himself but rather allowed the younger to leave of his own accord, he reasoned that he had not disobeyed Mu-won’s order.
After they were gone, Cheongyeon only cleared the most obvious mess before returning home. Fear of Mu-won sending someone after him kept him from lingering. More honestly, it was the sight of torn flesh and puddled blood that had churned his stomach.
The stench of blood had been so strong it nearly overpowered the fragrance of Vengeance Blossoms. The smell clung to his skin. The moment he got home, he rushed into the shower. Since then, he had done nothing but hide under his blanket.
‘Why did he go that far…?’
Cheongyeon could not understand it. No matter how foul the twins’ insults had been… If it had been him, he would have swallowed the anger. Yet suddenly, another thought crossed his mind—what if he, too, possessed Mu-won’s strength?
Would he have endured being insulted? Would he have set an example so no one would ever dare speak so carelessly again?
Because it was a path he had never walked, he could not answer. He could only guess that, given his distaste for blood, he would always remain far removed from violence.