That bastard went and caused trouble after all.
Kwon Sejin clenched his fist as he recalled the last day he saw his father. He should’ve smashed his legs instead of just punching him in the face. No—he should’ve just killed the bastard. If he had, something like this wouldn’t have happened…
Stewing in belated regret, Sejin made a vow. If that man ever showed up in front of him again, no matter what it took, he would end his life.
***
There was a reason Kwon Sejin had been camped out in front of the Shinsa Capital building. He had nowhere else to go.
After his mother was dragged away, he returned home only to find it completely empty. The landlord barked at him not to come back, saying the gangsters had taken the deposit. All Sejin had on him was the transportation card in his pocket—with a balance of only 4,000 won. And to make matters worse, there wasn’t a single relative or friend he could ask to put him up for even one night.
In that situation, there was only one thing Sejin could do: meet his mother.
Where was he supposed to sleep? Was he still supposed to go to school? Should he try to get a job? What now? To Sejin, who couldn’t see even one step ahead, there was only one person who might have an answer. Other than his mother, Sejin didn’t know a single “real” adult he could ask for guidance.
That was why. That was why Kwon Sejin waited in that hallway for four days.
On the first day, he went to the men who had taken his mother and asked to see her. What he got in return was a derisive laugh. But Sejin didn’t back down. He sat down in protest in the hallway leading to their office and shouted every time one of them passed by, demanding to see his mom. He got nothing out of it. He was hungry. And just like that, the day passed.
On the second day, one of the thugs tried to hand him a half-eaten piece of bread. Offended they thought he was some kind of beggar, Sejin ignored it. In response, the men started making a point of threatening to hit him every time they walked past, like he was their own unruly kid who had disrespected them.
He wanted to shout at them to fuck off. But if he did, they might really beat him. So Sejin kept his mouth shut. Not because he was afraid of getting hit, but because he was afraid of the hospital bill that might come after. So he hunched over and silently endured.
As time passed, the hunger turned into actual pain. Drinking tap water from the restroom, Sejin regretted not taking the bread. That regret made him feel even more pathetic.
On the third day, the hunger was easier to bear than the day before. But he no longer had the strength to scream for his mother. He crouched in the hallway, just glaring at the men as they walked by. They didn’t even look at him anymore. In that cold, dismissive silence, Sejin began to wonder if he might die before he ever got to see his mother.
And then, on the fourth day—finally, someone showed up who responded to Sejin’s relentless demand.
The presence of the man could be felt even before he appeared. Though Sejin was inside the building, he could hear the man’s loud greeting from outside. Sejin figured it must be someone important. He imagined a middle-aged man with a beer belly and a mean face. Someone like that was bound to be the one in charge. He made up his mind—if that man walked down the hallway, he’d shout and demand to see his mom. He couldn’t let the opportunity slip by.
But when the footsteps drew near and the man appeared, it was someone who looked like he’d walked straight out of a noir film—tall and handsome. His cold eyes swept over Sejin and then passed him by without a word. And in front of that man, Sejin couldn’t bring himself to speak. He just stared blankly at his back as it receded into the distance.
It wasn’t until the man stepped into the elevator that Sejin snapped back to his senses. And then he thought, No way. It couldn’t be him. It made sense—if someone was that good-looking and still working as a loan shark, then he had to be out of his mind. If Sejin looked like that, he’d be raking in piles of cash as a celebrity.
But unfortunately, the elevator stopped at the 3rd floor—where Shinsa Capital was. And a while later, one of the bald loan sharks came down and, with a tone halfway between pleading and threatening, told Sejin that the "boss" had arrived and asked him not to make a scene.
There was no doubt about it—that man from earlier was the bald thug’s boss.
Sejin cursed himself inwardly for judging people based on appearance. Just for that split second, he’d believed someone who looked like that couldn’t possibly be a bad person. And now he felt like a complete idiot.
While he was biting back that self-loathing, the man reappeared before him.
"Get up," said the man, who had a face like a classic Hong Kong movie star. When Sejin saw the ID he handed over, he learned the man’s name. But Sejin instantly decided it was fake. The way he handed it over so confidently, and how the name suited him a little too perfectly—it all screamed alias.
A face like a gangster’s and a fake ID. How could anyone trust what came out of that guy’s mouth? But Sejin didn’t have a choice. He had waited four days for someone—anyone—to bring up his mother first. And this man was the only one who did. So even though he knew there had to be some ulterior motive, Sejin had no choice but to go along.
When the man helped him buckle the seatbelt in the car and briefly brushed against him, Sejin did feel a flicker of regret. But even so, this guy wasn’t like the others. He looked like he had real power. Just the way the thugs at the building entrance bowed at the waist when they saw him made that clear. That’s why, even when the man threw out a nasty threat while mentioning his mom, Sejin didn’t jump out of the car. He endured. He had to meet his mother. This man was the only lifeline he had.
The man’s house was enormous—so big it made Sejin feel sick. Living large off money squeezed out of people like him, huh? Just the thought of it pissed him off. So he decided to act a little shameless. That guy’s money had probably come from people like Sejin anyway, so he figured he was entitled to take a bit.
After eating the seolleongtang the man ordered for him, Sejin started feeling the grime on his body. He went into the bathroom. There were enough towels to last for days. He undressed. Underneath the hoodie was a school uniform shirt with a blue name tag embroidered with Kwon Sejin. It was the uniform for Dongseoul Boys’ High School.
“You’re a girl, right?”
There was only one reason Sejin had dodged that question. The man was clearly the type of pervert who liked underage girls. The way he scanned him up and down reeked of sleaze. He was planning to take advantage of that misconception. Being mistaken for a girl disgusted him, but if it got him to his mom, he’d put up with it.
But what if the guy found out later that he was a boy? Would he get hit? Sejin thought about that as he washed his hair—grown out long with excuses to his mom, because he didn’t want to waste money on a haircut.
The man’s hands on the steering wheel were big. Covered in tiny scars. If someone like that hit you, it’d probably hurt. Way worse than getting hit by that bastard he didn’t even want to call his father. Sejin decided he’d have to be extra careful not to get found out.
While showering, he also hand-washed his underwear and shirt. He hung them inside the shower booth where they wouldn’t be seen. He hated putting on his school pants again, but he had no choice. Then the hoodie went on top. It was even filthier, but he couldn’t wash it. If he only wore the thin shirt, it’d be obvious he had no chest and they’d know he was a guy.
After washing up, exhaustion washed over him like a wave. He didn’t want to fall asleep when he didn’t even know where his mother was or what she was doing. But the drowsiness came anyway. Sejin slumped against the bed and dozed off on the floor.
“Can I come in?”
He woke up much later to a voice coming from somewhere. The room, once bright, was now cloaked in darkness. He’d passed out until evening. Jolting upright, Sejin pulled his hoodie low over his head. He yanked the drawstrings tight and tied them into a bow, lowering his head so his Adam’s apple wouldn’t show.
“I’m coming in.”
The sleazy guy didn’t even wait for an answer. Just opened the door and came in. Sejin had no idea the man had been knocking for ten minutes. All he knew was that now, in the dead of night, the man who thought he was some young girl was trying to enter his room. That thought made him tense up.
He didn’t have any real weapon, so he grabbed a pillow and clutched it tight as he sat perched on the bed. Then he stared, unblinking, at the man stepping inside.
Like earlier, the man was wearing a loose white cotton T-shirt and gray pants just as baggy. Long legs and a solid chest showed through the thin fabric. It looked almost intentional. Filthy bastard.
While Sejin was frowning, the man glanced around the room as if observing it, then held something out to him. Curious, Sejin looked up—it was a paper bag. Inside, something wrapped in plastic.
“Clothes and underwear... or, well, something like that. Figured you probably didn’t have anything to change into.”
“……”
Kwon Sejin looked up and stared at the man. In the dim light, shadows fell across his face—but the shape of it was striking enough to make Sejin feel envious. That face was the kind of face people couldn’t help but admire. And with that handsome, aloof expression, he was handing over clothes like it was nothing—who wouldn’t take them gratefully? Sejin, as if under a spell, took the bag before he realized what he was doing.
His mother used to say: good-looking guys always cash in on their faces. And wasn’t the prime example of that his monstrous father? Sejin reminded himself that the man standing in front of him—looking like some actor—was a loan shark who had brought a lost little girl into his home.
“Thanks.”
Maybe—just maybe—this guy was helping him out of genuine goodwill. But Sejin didn’t believe the world worked that way. There was no way this man didn’t have an agenda.
It was weird enough that the guy didn’t say anything about how Sejin, a kid way younger than him, kept speaking informally. If he didn’t want anything, Sejin figured he would’ve been beaten up already. As Sejin continued to eye him warily, the man asked:
“What do you want for dinner? Got a favorite? Should I just order chicken?”
“…Whatever’s fine…”
Sejin answered while lowering his head, avoiding the man’s eyes. He felt like laughing—what kind of kid fell for crap like this anymore?
“Alright. I’ll just order something random. Come out when I call you.”
When Sejin nodded, the man turned away without hesitation. On the back of his thin T-shirt, the faint shape of a tattoo could be seen. As he reached for the doorknob, a long black striped tail shimmered across his shoulder blades. Figures—gangsters really couldn’t help flaunting it. Disgusting.
Sejin scoffed and opened the paper bag. Whatever the guy’s intention was, he had to admit it was helpful. His clothes had been feeling gross after wearing them for days.
“……”
But that thankful feeling evaporated fast. Sejin pulled out the packaged clothes and scowled.
What the guy had bought was a long-sleeved pajama dress with some weird cartoon character on it. And the size was completely wrong. Seeing “170” printed on the packaging, Sejin practically threw the clothes onto the floor.
“Is he stupid?”
170 was a kid’s size. Who the hell buys children’s clothes like this for someone his age and height? Did the guy seriously think that “170” referred to height?
With an annoyed tug, Sejin rummaged deeper into the bag. Wasn’t there at least a T-shirt or something else? He found the packaged underwear next, but even that wasn’t anything he could wear. Lacy little panties with white ribbons—pink, yellow, lavender. Then he found a beige bra with hearts printed on it and completely lost it, throwing everything down on the floor.
All of it was trash. Sejin swore under his breath and shoved the discarded pajamas and underwear to one side. He figured he’d rather keep wearing the clothes he already had on for days.
Feeling irritated, Sejin slumped against the bed and sat on the floor, arms folded tightly.
Could this pervert really let him see his mom? With a head full of trash like that, did he even have the power to make it happen?
Doubt rose like a tide, but there was nothing else he could do. The only person who had even brought up his mother was this man. So all Sejin could do was wait, holding on to that sliver of hope. He sighed and rested his chin in his hand. For the past two days, he’d been too exhausted to think much. But now, with food in his stomach and a bit of sleep, anxiety began creeping in again.
What kind of place was Ihwagak, really? What was his mom doing there? Was she starving like he had been? Was the work hard? What the hell was he supposed to do next? But no matter how much he thought about it, there were no answers.
If he could just hear her voice… But his phone couldn’t send or receive calls anymore, and every time he tried calling her on a payphone, it just said her phone was turned off. It was hopeless. The bitterness grew too heavy to ignore, and Sejin buried his face in his hands. His small lips pressed into his palms as he muttered violent curses under his breath.
He sat there like that for a long time—until a knock came, followed by the man’s voice.
“Come out, time for dinner.”
Shameless as it was, the word “dinner” triggered a wave of hunger that hit hard. Sejin let out a breath and stood up. He followed the man into the living room, where two boxes of chicken had been set on the table where he’d eaten seolleongtang earlier. The sweet and spicy smell hit his nose and made his mouth water. Sejin swallowed and, almost in a trance, approached the sofa. While he sat down, the man went to the kitchen and came back with microwaved rice.
“Gotta eat rice too, right?”
When Sejin nodded quickly, the man placed one container in front of him. It must’ve been hot, but the guy held it by the sides and even peeled off the plastic wrap for him. Then he opened a wrapped pair of chopsticks and poured cola into a cup. Sejin stared at the side of the man’s face as he casually took care of him, then quickly looked away.
There was no reason to feel thankful for something like this. The people from Shinsa Capital had dragged his mom away using a contract she never even signed. And this man was someone they bowed to—he was just as much trash as the rest of them. Maybe even worse.
So all of this was nothing but disgusting hypocrisy. With that thought, Sejin opened his mouth and began to eat. He moved his chopsticks with the firm decision to get as much out of this man as possible while he was here. The chicken was good.
After dinner, Sejin went back to the room to rest. He’d thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep properly in someone else’s house, especially with how suspicious he was of the man’s intentions. But the moment he lay down, he was hit by overwhelming drowsiness.
He passed out so completely he didn’t even hear the man knocking on his door. And when he finally woke up with a start, it was already early evening the next day. Sejin was shocked to realize he’d slept almost twenty hours. How could he have let his guard down like that? He was horrified at how careless he’d been.
Driven by sudden hunger and thirst, he headed into the living room in search of water. And there, sprawled out on the sofa like a corpse, was the man, asleep.
Sejin stopped about ten paces away and stared.
The man’s right hand loosely held the remote, while his left rested on his stomach. His shirt had ridden up slightly, exposing pale skin. One long leg was bent across the couch, pulling up his pants enough to show his ankle.
Sejin had figured a tall guy like that would be big all over, but he was surprisingly slender. The protruding ankle bone had a faint pink tint, and blue veins stood out against the top of his foot like something drawn with a ruler. Tall, cocky, with that gangster drawl and swagger—yet there was something unexpectedly neat about him. Sejin found himself staring without realizing.
“I’m not asleep, you know.”
The voice hit him suddenly, and Sejin flinched like a kid caught doing something bad. At some point, the man had opened his eyes, and now his sleep-heavy gaze was fixed on Sejin. He yawned and slowly sat up, speaking in a low, husky voice.
“You sure sleep like the dead.”
“…I was tired.”
He hadn’t gotten proper rest in four days. Though even he hadn’t expected to sleep that long. At Sejin’s reply, the man nodded lazily and got up.
“Sit.”
Sejin sat down on the sofa the man had just vacated. It was still warm, which made him feel weirdly uncomfortable. He scooted to the edge—and just then, a voice came from the kitchen.