“Meals are made by the aunt. If there’s anything you want to eat, write it on the fridge chalkboard. Usually, we eat together so it’s easier to do the dishes that way, so just adjust accordingly. Also, laundry — gather it all after six in the evening and put it out. See those bins? The white ones are for men, the black ones for women. Don’t touch or peek into the wrong one. The bathroom’s on this floor, and the men’s bath is next to it. Packages usually get checked once before they come in, but they don’t deliver them to the rooms, so you have to pick them up yourself.”
Kim Joo-won rattled off the rules quickly as he led Gi Jae-eon to the room he would be staying in, which was right next door to his own. Normally, he might have shown him the living room, bathroom, and so on one by one, explaining everything properly... but why bother? He wasn’t a kid. He’d probably figure things out on his own.
Besides, that way would probably be more comfortable for both of them.
“That’s it. Ask if you have any questions.”
“...None.”
“Alright, then.”
Kim Joo-won cut off Gi Jae-eon’s reply abruptly and shrugged his shoulders. As if he’d been waiting for this moment, he neatly closed the topic. Silence fell between them like before. Gi Jae-eon’s pupils briefly dilated, then slowly dropped to the floor. A gloomy aura circled around him. Seeing his sudden slump in spirit, Kim Joo-won clicked his tongue with a disgusted expression.
The guy gets demoralized over something like this?
‘How much must people have coddled him...’
Anyway, it’s annoying.
Kim Joo-won turned away as if he had finished his business but suddenly sighed shortly. As if he’d forgotten something. Sure enough, he stuck his hand arrogantly into his pants pocket and stood before Gi Jae-eon again. He looked like a delinquent before getting mugged.
“Hey, this is me being old-fashioned, but—”
“...”
“I don’t really care why you’re here. I don’t want to know. But this isn’t a place to pamper you. There’s no one here for that. So if you want to stay, drop your spoiled habits from Incheon and behave yourself.”
Twenty-one and twenty-three.
Only two years apart, but Kim Joo-won shamelessly threw out that advice.
Fortunately, Gi Jae-eon answered meekly that he understood. He slightly nodded with his chin pulled in tightly, which made Kim Joo-won raise an eyebrow.
‘From earlier, he’s pretty compliant. If he’d talked back, I’d have slapped him.’
What is this guy really?
Kim Joo-won was starting to get confused.
At least the ‘Gi Jae-eon from Incheon’ he’d heard about wasn’t a shrinking pushover who cowered when touched. He wasn’t some dumb idiot who just spaced out when hit, nor a lonely outcast abused at home. If anything, he was like an orca—a monster without natural enemies. Just by reputation, he commanded a huge presence and stirred inferiority complexes among sorcerers.
‘But it was all bullshit.’
Kim Joo-won scowled disdainfully at the pathetic loser fumbling with his suitcase handle. Who the hell had spread those lies to the world?
What did they call him? An arrogant young master?
Bullshit. He’s clearly a loser.
But does that make him pitiful? Not at all. Kim Joo-won still held a grudge against Gi Jae-eon. Like that attitude of his about An Seo-myeong getting hurt, saying “As long as he’s not dead, what’s the big deal?”
‘But where does this guy get such nerve when he can’t even meet eyes?’
His character was genuinely amazing.
‘Maybe he got scared because he got beaten up?’
Well, Kim Joo-won had reformed tens of thousands of human trash with his fists.
He thought of this lame joke inside and fiddled with his hand in his pocket. Damn. Should I give it? Should I not? Hesitating uncharacteristically, Kim Joo-won suddenly threw something he’d pulled from his pocket toward the clumsy-sounding door-trying Gi Jae-eon.
It was ointment. Used, with traces left on it.
“I gave it to you.”
Kim Joo-won shook his head, feeling a subtle itch all over his body. Like someone who’d just eaten something they couldn’t stomach, wanting to throw up immediately.
In dorm life, fights among guys were common. Once a fight started, nosebleeds were standard; if nothing broke, it was considered lucky.
Reconciliation? That didn’t exist. Usually, one would casually ask the next day, “Did you eat?” Then they'd eat a cup of instant noodles together with bruised faces. After eating, they’d laugh as if nothing happened.
That was their unspoken rule to keep peace. Giving ointment like this honestly felt a bit... gross, even if it was his own doing.
It was worse than those early twenties nights drinking two bottles of soju with a friend, slapping shoulders and saying, “You’re the best, man. Seriously cool dude.”
But does that mean Kim Joo-won didn’t take care of others? Not at all.
He just excluded men other than his teacher Kim Young.
Kim Joo-won was quite soft with Kim Young and the girls. If they were hurt, he’d bring medicine and porridge, and if asked to run errands, he’d do it without complaint. To him, that was normal.
He couldn’t refuse his teacher, treated like a god, and the girls... well, it wasn’t because he was a simp, just that they were “people to look after.”
Why? Because of his long life on the streets.
For runaway youth Kim Joo-won, the dangers children and girls faced were unimaginable, and the unfair treatment they endured gave him a new set of values. So, as an adult, children and girls became people he had to protect. No matter what others said about him being a simp or patriarchal.
So, returning to the point...
Giving medicine directly to Gi Jae-eon, who was below the standard of “people to protect,” was very embarrassing and unusual.
‘At least this way I can avoid nagging about making peace.’
Remembering Kim Young’s relieved face, Kim Joo-won thought he wouldn’t have to endure more nagging and slowly walked toward his own room. Just as he was about to turn the doorknob, a hesitant voice sounded from beside him.
“D-Don’t worry about it.”
Naturally, his gaze fell on Gi Jae-eon.
“...I’m used to it. This much is okay.”
His pale, chapped lips moved, along with his gaunt cheeks.
...Used to it?
Used to what?
Kim Joo-won blinked to understand what he’d just heard. But before he could fully comprehend, Gi Jae-eon opened the door and went inside.
Kim Joo-won remained frozen in place. He let go of the doorknob and rubbed his forehead.
Slowly.
Pressing down.
“...?”
His mouth slowly turned downward, and finally, a single phrase slipped out.
“...Why used to it?”
Just then, Kim Young’s voice echoed in his ears like a roundelay.
Terrible delusions, but if all of that were actually true...?
Kim Joo-won swallowed dryly and shook his head slowly side to side. His expression looked very uncomfortable. His cold fingertips ruffled his messy hair. Damn. He raised his head and took a deep breath from his core, exhaling, then cast a glum gaze at the door Gi Jae-eon had entered.
“That’s really... unsettling.”
At that moment, the category [People not to protect] that Gi Jae-eon belonged to wavered, and faintly flickered the category [People who should be protected because they suffer unfair treatment].
Yet Kim Joo-won remained unaware.
As soon as Gi Jae-eon entered the room, he collapsed onto the bed as if he was falling down. His limbs hung loosely and lifelessly.
He showed no will to even organize his luggage. Maybe due to fatigue, his eyes flickered open and closed repeatedly before finally closing helplessly.
‘I gave it to him.’
The image of the kid awkwardly handing over the ointment came to mind.
The pale eyes, tall stature, and solid build. The notable feature: a faint scar on his right cheek.
Exorcist Kim Joo-won.
The hero who died protecting Seoul (Bonryeong) when “that” awoke.
No detailed info was known about him. Only bits from An Seo-myeong, who remembered him.
Kim Joo-won was said to have used forbidden spells with a resolve to die with his comrades, ultimately losing his life. Though the spell failed, his sacrifice bought time so many could survive.
What was it? ...Ah, right.
‘He seemed gruff on the outside but was actually very kind.’
Rough but warm... yeah, that fits.
Gi Jae-eon muttered, tightly clutching the ointment in his hand.
“You didn’t have to give this...”
In fact, when Gi Jae-eon said he was “used to it,” he referred to fights with “that.”
The terrible pain of having his body sliced and face melting away, still chanting jubeop (ritual spells) to fight.
Having walked that path for so long, he’d grown numb to most pain. So a bruise that would disappear soon was nothing.
He had no particular grievance toward Kim Joo-won. Not even resentment. To put it simply, he thought, ‘I guess I deserved it.’
‘Yeah, if only I’d come to my senses sooner...’
Just before judging himself—
Brrrriiing-!!
Suddenly, his phone rang.