Kim Iwol came back holding two bottles of soju.
“What are you going to do with those?”
Choi Jeho could rarely read what Kim Iwol was thinking.
“Drink together and ram him head-on the same way?”
“I’m not someone who behaves without sense.”
Iwol was perfectly calm. Even the way he loosely shook the bottle by the neck felt unhurried.
The lofty air didn’t last long, though.
He suddenly lifted the bottle and chugged. Jeho jolted and grabbed Iwol’s shoulder in a flash.
“Hey!”
[pfft]
Then he sprayed it all over the ground—more precisely, into the shadowy corner of the alley beside the convenience store.
“You okay? You out-of-your-mind idiot, why would you even—”
“I did it on purpose, so be quiet. You’re making me look even more pathetic right now.”
Maybe the aim was off; liquor dribbled down from under his chin. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve.
Then he poured some onto his palm and rubbed it into his cuff and collar.
“Are you crazy? What are you doing?”
“Transforming into the kind of person you really don’t want to get tangled up with.”
He splashed the rest along his pant legs.
Apparently deciding it wasn’t enough, he grabbed the new bottle.
“More to pour?”
“It still doesn’t have that stale stink yet.”
He tugged his mask down, tipped his head back, and breathed out.
“Yeah, still not enough.”
“Tell me what you’re going to do. Otherwise...”
So I can get myself dirty too, if it comes to that.
A thought flashed through Jeho’s head and made him flinch. He’d sworn all his life never to touch alcohol.
“You just stay here.”
“What?”
“You said he probably came for money. To someone like that, a celebrity son is an easy mark. Better if you don’t run into him.”
He couldn’t argue. While Jeho stood there, rattled, Iwol jammed the bottle mouth to his lips again. He didn’t drink the way Jeho feared—just held it in his mouth for a moment and spat.
“So wait where he won’t see you. I’ll go to your sister.”
Like you’d be any different, he thought. Kim Iwol was, at best, his peer.
But before Jeho could snap back, Iwol slipped into the alley and was gone.
“Did I even tell him the exact address?”
Jeho hurried after him.
“God, the reek.”
Every stride sent a cloud of alcohol smell rolling off me.
There was a stale cigarette stink too. The butts littering the ground made the liquor gargle worth it.
Spiritual Pillar Jeong Seongbin
[Hyung, like you said, I asked through your sibling for your dad to be brought to the park!]
My view was narrowed by mask and cap, but checking messages wasn’t a problem.
A little farther and a shabby strip of green came into view—not much of a park.
Inside, with no foot traffic around, someone was in a shouting match.
“How does a guy with a job have no money!”
“You think eating and sleeping are free? At least I spend on living. Where do you spend it that you’re broke?”
They were a bit away from the houses, but where the sister kept her voice tight to avoid a scene, the man just bellowed.
Predictable. He wanted to squeeze what he wanted by using her wish not to stir up trouble where she lived.
I steadied my breathing at the park entrance.
Then I loosened one shoelace and pulled my cap low.
You can do this.
How many nightmares had I seen over the years?
How many drunk messes had I cleaned up?
Besides, you’re trained, Kim Iwol. Elite. With field experience.
I checked the target’s position one more time.
Then I walked toward the man, slow and listing, like I might spill onto the ground any second.
Jeho’s father didn’t even glance my way, still browbeating his daughter. A man used to not caring about other people’s eyes.
I came up carefully behind him.
And I slammed into his shoulder.
Strictly speaking, I faked the slam and only brushed him.
“What the hell?!”
“Ow!”
As he snapped around, I let myself plop onto the ground, and both their eyes pinned me.
Now.
“Mister, watch where you’re going!”
“What?”
Barbarian for barbarian.
Drunk for drunk.
Obviously, I’d be the bigger, trashier drunk.
“You’re the one who hit me, and you’re going to shout about it—”
“You don’t see a guy knocked over because of you? Pretty sure my leg’s broken. How are you going to make this right?”
Playing the shameless victim for the first time in my life made my conscience ache. But I wailed as best I could, clutching my leg and rolling.
I pointed at Jeho’s sister and shouted.
“Hey, are you just going to stand there? Call the police! Call them!”
“You punk, what do you think you’re doing!”
“What does it matter if I’m young or old when you knocked me over and broke my leg? I’m doing this by the book!”
“You think I haven’t seen grifters like you?”
“My leg’s broken—how’s that your business whether it’s a grift or not?”
In this country, the worse you behave, the more leeway you get—an unfortunate tendency. The father who’d been hounding his daughter didn’t dare push it with someone even more of a piece of work.
I stood and dusted off my pants, making it obvious I wasn’t actually lame, while still giving them a half-baked limp for the performance.
“Mister, if you don’t want prison food, let’s call it five hundred and settle clean.”
“Oh, this is straight-up fraud!”
“Fraud? I’m trying to end this nicely and you’re kicking your luck. Who in the world breaks his own leg for a scam? Or do you want to head to lockup right now?”
Jeho did say it: that man avoids anything that lands him in a cell.
I stepped right into his face, and he balked. I dropped my gaze and spoke.
“I’ve rotted in this neighborhood twenty years. Everyone knows me here. Huh? You treat me like this and run, you think the next time we meet around here I’ll just let it slide?”
I reeked of booze, I towered over him—every condition was perfect.
“Y-you son of a—”
“Keep cussing if you want, but if you hate this, let’s do it by the book! Hey! Police! Now!”
His pupils wobbled. I could practically hear the gears grinding.
At this rate, any moment now...
“Fuck!”
Before I could even finish the thought, the man shoved me and bolted the other way.
So that’s how he sees her—less than human. How do you leave your own daughter with some self-injury scammer and run?
For once, I wished my prediction had been wrong. My mouth tasted bitter.
“Hello, ma’am.”
I greeted her late. Even hearing my voice, she said she wasn’t sure I was really Kim Iwol.
“You really looked like one of the local punks... Oh! What am I saying, first time meeting and all!”
“It’s fine, please speak freely!”
I say worse to your brother. You can roast me as you like.
I hadn’t even said my name when Jeho burst out of the alley. I told him not to follow and to wait. Guy never listens.
He ran up, out of breath, scanning me and his sister.
“No one hurt? I was watching, but he didn’t lay hands on you, did he?”
“He didn’t. You said your dad doesn’t hit.”
Even at that, Jeho’s face didn’t ease.
“Why’d you drag Iwol out in the middle of the night? That man’s tantrums aren’t exactly new.”
“He followed on his own. And you know if you cave once, that guy keeps raising hell. It’s the first time he’s come to your sister’s place, though...”
He didn’t finish—just sighed.
Of course his head was a mess. I knew the feeling well.
Watching us, his sister tapped my arm lightly—not hard enough to hurt.
“I don’t think he’ll come for a while. You chased him off properly.”
“By staging a self-injury scam?”
“Could you add the word ‘acting’ to that?”
Looking put out, Jeho yanked off his cap and raked his hair, then shoved the cap back on.
“I was wondering why you were dousing yourself in booze.”
Before he finished, his sister’s palm smacked his arm. Unlike when she tapped me, ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) the force was obvious.
“I! Told! You! To watch your mouth! How many times!”
“Why are you hitting me!”
Each syllable landed with a thwack. Even while taking it, Jeho couldn’t win a single exchange with his sister.
“Iwol, you’ve had your hands full. He’s still childish even though you’re the same age, huh?”
“Not at all. Jeho’s been really solid lately.”
“Jeho?”
He couldn’t hold his tongue even for a moment of polite small talk; he pounced on my affectionate nickname.
So what. You want me to call you “Troublemaker Choi Jeho” in front of your sister?
Watching us trade glares, his sister smiled for some reason.
“Why are you smiling?”
Jeho shot her a look.
“It’s funny. I never thought a day would come when you had a friend.”
“How is he my friend?”
“Is that how you talk to a member who came all the way out here for you? You looking to die?”
He grumbled and got chewed out thoroughly for it. Just watching cleared my chest.
By the time we said goodbye, it was nearly dawn.
While I brushed sand off my clothes, she tucked taxi money into Jeho’s hand.
“Take a cab, and tomorrow get something tasty with the team. This is all the cash I have on me.”
“You don’t have to. You think I can’t afford a taxi?”
“It’s for Iwol’s trouble. It’s not for you, so don’t get it twisted.”
Jeho shut his mouth at her scolding.
It reminded me of the old days with my sister.
“What’s this?”
“A hoodie. It was on sale.”
“I have plenty of clothes.”
“Bull. You wear the same black crewneck every day.”
I used to say that every time—why buy me things.
Not just then. Every time she brought me something, I said “It’s fine” more than “Thank you.” I felt guilty making her spend money.
Back then, I didn’t know it was care.
That it came from worry—that she cherished her kid brother enough to think of me even when she just happened to see something nice on the street. I only learned it after the person who took care of me was gone.
Watching Jeho and his sister, I thought:
When I meet my sister again, I’ll ask Min Jukyung for advice and bring a gift a working woman her age would like.
We’ll eat her favorite thing, and if there’s something she’s wanted, I’ll buy that too, and I’ll send her off in a premium cab.
In the end, Jeho couldn’t beat his sister. We headed back to the street with spending money far too generous for “taxi fare.”
When I opened the ride-hailing app, the late-night surcharge was going wild.
Still, we should go separately, right?
On the way over was fine, but right now I reeked of booze—the smell Jeho despises.
If we shared a cab back to the dorm, he might snap and do who knows what. Probably mash my face into the floor mat, roll down all four windows, pinch his nose, and then punt me the moment we got out.
Catching a taxi wasn’t hard, at least. I waved to the guy loitering nearby.
“I just flagged one. You take it.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll call the next one.”
He shot back:
“Why?”
“What do you mean why. You want to ride together?”
I tugged my T-shirt at the collar; the alcohol smell puffed out like a burst fabric softener capsule. Jeho grimaced.
“...Just ride with me. No point wasting money.”
“If it were a matter of taste, I’d ask your opinion. But family stuff and trauma are different. I want to help you avoid having to think about it.”
I was putting in our address when my phone slid out of my hand—Jeho’s doing.
“Forget it. One car.”
“Huh?”
“You won’t die from smelling booze. Let’s just go.”
He handed my phone back with the app closed. In the distance, a taxi with a familiar plate was pulling up.
Jeho started toward the headlights, then halted.
“I was wondering why you suddenly wanted to act.”
“Me?”
“Maybe it suits you.”
He waved at the taxi. Time to go back to the dorm.
