He said I’d have nowhere to go if that man died right now.
Eunhyung finished his vague remark with a long clearing of his throat.
Hyungnam stood there stunned for a while. Then the meaning finally sank in, and her eyes suddenly widened.
Her heart broke from its rhythm and began racing.
Her newly brightened gaze fastened on Choi Eunhyung’s strong neck and broad shoulders.
He could do it. More than easily. Even if he weren’t a specialist, even if he were just an ordinary man, overpowering one pathetic old man would be nothing for him.
Why had she thought of Choi Eunhyung as someone trapped in the same position she was?
He was completely different from her.
As long as she put enough money in his hands, he was the kind of man who could stab the old bastard whenever he chose.
Hadn’t he said himself that for money, he could even betray the organization?
Her voice, which had been sunk low, trembled finely as she confirmed the promise once more.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Eunhyung turned his head to look at Hyungnam, then stretched out his hand and abruptly grabbed hers. He forced her soft, plump fingers open and hooked her little finger around his own.
“There. Look. Sealed.”
“You can’t… you can’t take it back.”
“Fuck, what do you take me for?”
“No matter who it is.”
“As long as it’s not the president.”
The corners of Hyungnam’s mouth slowly lifted, and her breathing grew shallow and quick.
Before she knew it, she was smiling outright.
There was even a trace of madness in the hope carried by that smile, though whether such an impure expectation deserved to be called hope at all was another question.
“If you don’t come, I’m leaving you behind.”
Choi Eunhyung ground his cigarette butt sharply into the ground and started down first.
Still smiling faintly, Hyungnam hurried onto the downward path after him.
His broad back was salvation.
A lifeline.
Something she could trust.
Her face flushed as she concentrated on keeping no more than five steps between them.
Choi Eunhyung shrugged his biker jacket back on and shoved his cigarette pack into the inner pocket.
Even through her exhaustion, that particular sight came into startling focus.
The image of the Turtle Ship reflected in the sunlight lingered in her vision for a long time.
Hyungnam grumbled under her breath.
Smokes them just fine. And he said I might as well have bought Sol.
The Royal Salon started smoothly and maneuvered deftly through the crowd.
Before Hyungnam had time to think about what to make for lunch or whether there was anything in the refrigerator she could use for side dishes, the car had already stopped.
The pork-cutlet restaurant near the foot of Namsan was crowded with people who had already finished eating and were spilling back outside.
Even amid the bustling crowd, a strange pocket of stillness seemed to surround Choi Eunhyung, whose head rose above nearly everyone else’s.
Unused to drawing attention, Hyungnam hid behind his broad back as they entered the restaurant.
The moment Eunhyung sat down, he raised a hand and called a server over.
Then, without even asking Hyungnam what she wanted, he ordered two pork cutlets.
She had no intention of snapping at him for ordering without permission or insisting she wouldn’t eat and making him cancel hers.
After making such a spectacle of wanting to die the night before, she was shamelessly hungry.
The restaurant was filled like air with the bustle of a weekend recreation spot—the clatter of dishes, murmured conversations, quiet laughter.
The food arrived so quickly it seemed as though it had been waiting for them.
“…”
Hyungnam was rendered speechless by the vast panorama of pork cutlet spread before her.
On a plate the size of a serving tray sat a fried piece of meat larger than her face.
While she stared in alarm at the reddish-brown sauce steaming over it, Eunhyung pulled a fork and knife from a red plastic container and dropped them in front of her.
Watching him cautiously, Hyungnam picked up the fork in one hand and the knife in the other, imitating him.
“...Ngh.”
But the fried meat, soaked soft with sauce, refused to cut the way she wanted.
She kept applying pressure in the wrong places, the knife slipping uselessly off course.
Hyungnam discreetly raised the knife and examined the blade.
What kind of damn knife has no edge at all and just a few little saw teeth near the front? And they stuck this thing in here calling it a knife?
Eunhyung finally noticed the disaster taking place on her plate and clicked his tongue.
“Hey. Give it here.”
“I’m fine.”
“I said give it.”
The plates were far too large for him to keep two in front of himself and cut both at once.
Ignoring Hyungnam’s attempt to stop him, Eunhyung took her plate and dropped his own half-cut plate in front of her instead.
Even as he diligently cut up her pork cutlet, he kept grumbling.
“Seriously, girl, you’re a pain in the ass.”
“…”
“Never thought I’d live to see the day I cut another person’s meat.”
“I said I can do it.”
Unable to listen anymore, Hyungnam reached out for her plate, but Eunhyung instantly shifted his grip on the knife.
The serrated blade spun half a turn in his hand and pointed directly at hers.
She had no desire to defy him badly enough to get sauce smeared across the back of her hand.
Embarrassed, Hyungnam withdrew it.
Only after seeing both of her hands settle uselessly onto her lap did Eunhyung resume the operation.
It was ridiculous beyond words.
Only a few days ago, she and Choi Eunhyung had never even had a real conversation.
She had known only that someone like him existed among Park Shineok’s closest men. She might have seen his face in passing once or twice, if that.
A man who made a living killing members of his own species had been nothing but an unsettling presence.
Every time she saw him, unease and tension accompanied the sight.
She had always thought he might amuse himself by pretending to slit her throat or stab her.
But the matter changed entirely if that ability could be used by her.
He does this for a living. Surely he wouldn’t have said something like that for no reason. And we made a promise. Hooked fingers and sealed it.
Hyungnam was a person who understood basic decency.
She had absolutely no intention of settling the fee for a hired killing with one bowl of soup.
Her darkened eyes lowered as she quietly estimated the cost.
A house? Maybe two? He’d probably charge more for the life of the boss he used to serve, wouldn’t he?
“What are you grinning at?”
Apparently a smile had escaped without her noticing.
Hyungnam awkwardly replaced it with a blank expression and answered in a voice barely louder than an ant’s.
“I wasn’t smiling.”
Then she stared at the prominent veins on the back of the man’s hand as he continued cutting.
With a remarkably serious expression, he was reducing Hyungnam’s pork cutlet to rubble.
Each piece was exactly half the size of those on Choi Eunhyung’s own partially cut plate.
The maid is short, and her head is small, and her mouth is small too. If she’s going to fit the meat into one bite, it has to be cut really tiny.
That, presumably, was the logic behind the massacre on her plate.
Hyungnam slowly raised her gaze and glanced at Eunhyung, who remained absorbed in the task.
Contrary to his appearance, the man was surprisingly attentive.
He had dragged Hyungnam back from the brink of death, and even if he complained about it, he continued looking after her.
He had carried her when she was completely drunk.
He had taught her the flower-card game.
He had pulled her away from death and brought her to Namsan.
Now he was butchering someone else’s pork cutlet on her behalf.
Why is Choi Eunhyung being so kind to me?
The belated question gathered inside her like smoke, then dispersed almost immediately.
Whatever the reason, what does it matter?
Hyungnam would live by taking bites from the promise they had sealed with linked fingers, as though it were food.
After hesitating for a moment, she opened her mouth heavily.
“…Thank you.”
“For what?”
“The pork cutlet.”
For saving me. For stopping me. For saying you’ll kill the man who polluted me.
Choi Eunhyung did not even look toward her. He merely snorted.
He seemed to like the stubborn pride that would rather die than say thank you for saving me.
Instead, his indifferent voice followed, as though he had known perfectly well what she meant.
“Yeah. See? Being alive is nice. Your brother even buys you good food.”
“…”
“Grow up to be someone admirable.”
It was so absurd she couldn’t even laugh.
Hyungnam tilted her head irritably and fixed her eyes on her plate.
How is a maid who gets treated like a beggar even by beggar children supposed to become someone admirable? And with a conscience already ruined like mine, even if I did something admirable, could anyone really call it admirable?
But Shim Hyungnam, whose schooling had ended early, was not the sort of person who spent long stretches thinking deeply about everything.
Grand causes and noble deeds were never going to be her share of life anyway.
Having escaped the depths of contemplation, Hyungnam tossed the ball back to Eunhyung.
“You too, Manager.”
“…”
“Live a long, long time.”
Eunhyung’s knife stopped dead.
A silence passed like wind.
Then his shoulders began to shake with laughter.
It was a strange laugh.
He covered his face completely with the hand that wasn’t holding the knife and couldn’t stop the choked sounds spilling through his fingers.
Hyungnam stared blankly at him.
Is telling someone to live a long life really that funny?
It took him a long while to calm down.
His overturned voice sounded so rough that anyone overhearing might have thought he had been crying moments earlier.
“Yeah. I’ll live until I’m so old I’m smearing shit on the walls.”
“…”
“I’ll even get a grand eightieth-birthday celebration from my kids before I die.”
“Ah.”
He let the sound trail out and dabbed at the corner of his eye with the back of his hand.
What a strange man.
Hyungnam idly scratched her fork across Choi Eunhyung’s plate and returned his words to him.
“Yes, Manager. You make sure you become an admirable person too.”
“Sure. I’ll become the most respected man in the whole country.”
“…”
“Fuck, maid, what’s with that face?”
“…”
“You think it’s funny for a gangster bastard to say he wants to be respected?”