Lee Kangjoo took the arm of the dazed, vacant Haejun and led him to the car that had been waiting the whole time. Even after getting inside, Haejun just sat there blankly. Where he was, what he’d almost done, who he’d met and what kind of mess he’d caused—his head was thick with fog, nothing lining up properly. The warm air, the faint scent, the soft leather seat all felt unreal, like he was dreaming.
“CEO.”
“Yeah.”
He’d never done drugs, but if he ever did, {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} wouldn’t it feel like this? Everything in front of him was blurry and hazy. It still felt like he was standing outside the railing. Even with his feet on solid ground, there was this floating sensation, an unnamed anxiety clinging to the tips of his fingers and toes.
“I’m sorry, but... would it be possible to get an advance? Just the interest... I have to pay the interest tomorrow.”
The driver glanced at Haejun through the rearview mirror. Haejun didn’t notice. It felt like thick dough had been slapped onto his eyelids. Drowsiness he hadn’t felt while hanging off the railing hit him all at once, his head pitching forward again and again. He frowned and forced his eyes open.
“Alright.”
The calm answer eased his mind. Only then did the tension drain out of him, strength leaving his eyes.
Too much had happened in just a few hours. Haejun’s head tipped forward like he’d been knocked out cold. Right before he lost consciousness, he didn’t forget to mumble a thank-you.
* * *
He dreamed of his childhood. One of the few pleasant memories he had.
He’d gone to the market with his mom. It was before he turned five, the kind of memory that should’ve faded, yet the taste of the puffed rice crackers he ate that day and the warmth of his mother’s hand stayed vivid for a long time. Her hair tied up high, the white nape of her neck, the long sky-blue skirt fluttering around her legs all shimmered faintly.
But the features of the face that had turned back to look at him wouldn’t come to mind. After his mother died, his father burned every photo she left behind, so no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember.
Haejun’s eyelids fluttered, then opened. The dim lighting and ceiling were unfamiliar. A long line stretched through the air; following it, he saw an IV hanging from a pole. The needle was stuck into the back of his hand.
The only hospital he’d been to recently was the urology clinic run by that perverted old man. There was no way he’d walked into a place like this on his own, so he pushed himself up. Just then, the door opened and a staff member came in.
“Oh, you’re awake.”
She smiled kindly and checked the IV. Seeing the bag nearly empty, she smoothly pulled the needle from Haejun’s hand.
“Where am I?”
“A hospital. Your guardian said he had something to take care of and left earlier.”
“My guardian?”
There was no way he had one. Haejun tilted his head.
“Yes. A very tall man.”
She stretched her arm high over her head to show his height. There was only one person like that around him.
So it wasn’t a dream.
He thought it was a dream.
Then where did reality start?
Haejun’s face drained of color, and the staff member looked at him anxiously, wondering if something was wrong, fidgeting as if she might call a doctor. Seeing that, Haejun slapped his own cheeks with both hands.
“I’m fine. But I don’t have money for the hospital bill—”
“Oh, he took care of the payment before he left.”
Nothing made sense. Haejun left the hospital in a daze. Maybe because he’d slept deeply for once, his body felt much lighter than before. His head was clear. He’d often skipped meals from lack of appetite, but now his stomach felt hollow with hunger. His body was firing off alarms, trying to return to normal function.
He thought about grabbing a cup of ramen at a convenience store, but there was no way he had money. He reached into his pocket to call Yohan for help, but instead of his phone, his hand touched something else. When he pulled it out, it was a stiff business card and cash.
Haejun stared at the bills first. Several yellow notes. Counting them, it was enough not just for a meal, but even to cover the interest he owed the loan sharks today.
When he’d bolted out of the lodging like he was possessed, all he’d been thinking about was dying. He hadn’t brought his wallet or anything else. So this shouldn’t be here.
Where the hell did this money come from? No matter how he turned it over in his head, the only person who could’ve paid the hospital bill and left this behind was Lee Kangjoo. Only then did he look at the card. Three neat characters spelling out Lee Kangjoo’s name were printed on it.
‘Will you buy me?’
The memory smacked the back of his head, and Haejun’s face went pale. Dawn. Just a few hours ago. This disrespectful mouth of his had finally caused trouble.
“I’m insane.”
Haejun muttered.
“I’ve lost it.”
He smacked his forehead over and over, clawed at his hair, then collapsed onto the spot. A sound halfway between a scream and a groan spilled out between his lips.
‘Would it be possible to get an advance?’
“Aaagh.”
He’d even shaken him down for money. It was a mystery that Lee Kangjoo had handed it over so calmly.
When morning comes, everyone cringes at what they wrote at dawn. Haejun buried his face in his hands, looking like he was about to cry—then jerked his head up.
Since he’d come back alive from the edge between life and death, he couldn’t afford to waste time like this. The first thing to do was pay the interest to the loan shark. The second was to find Lee Kangjoo and either pay him back or figure out another way.
His body and mind were both exhausted. He wanted to take a taxi, but he couldn’t waste the money he’d just been given, so Haejun dragged his heavy legs toward the subway.
* * *
His phone was flooded with threatening messages disguised as reminders. A photo of a sashimi knife with a message about sharpening it to take out his kidneys was one of the milder ones.
Haejun paid the interest first. Almost immediately, Choi Manseok called. He didn’t want to answer, but he swore under his breath and picked up, worried the bastard would use it as an excuse to come looking for him.
“Hello.”
—Where’d you get the money.
“I worked.”
—Worked my ass. I know you’re fucked.
“I’m still usable.”
Haejun replied casually, forcing himself to sound calm. Cold sweat ran down his back. He wondered if they’d figured out he was impotent.
No way. He’d avoided second rounds with excuses about being out of shape, and the only one who knew his dick was busted was Yohan. Yohan, who went rabid at the mere mention of loan sharks, wouldn’t have blabbered like some chatterbox.
—You got two going at once or something? If you are, just borrow from me. I’ll give you a VIP rate. Just gotta suck my balls once. Easy as hell.
What kind of idiot borrows from a loan shark to pay loan shark interest? The cackling laughter made his ears feel rotten, and he pulled the phone away. With his other hand, he fiddled with the business card—probably the one Lee Kangjoo had slipped him. The smooth paper felt nice under his fingertips.
“I’m busy. Anything else?”
—Such a cocky little bastard. Just miss one payment. Just once.
Was he telling him to pay or not to pay? After spewing curses, Choi Manseok hung up.
Haejun let out a disgusted noise and stared down at the card in his hand. On the palm-sized piece of paper was not only Lee Kangjoo’s name, but the company name as well.
<Baeksong Finance>. The name alone reeked of dirty money.
He searched the company name on his phone. Nothing relevant came up—just restaurants, cafés, unrelated businesses. He switched search engines just in case, but it was still shrouded in secrecy.
“Definitely a gangster.”
A company with a business card but no website told him exactly what kind of world Lee Kangjoo belonged to. Not that he couldn’t have guessed after watching him casually crush people underfoot.
He should thank him, but the thought that Choi Manseok and Lee Kangjoo were both loan sharks sucking the marrow out of others made his finger hover over the keypad for a long time.
Haejun raked a hand through his hair, stamping his feet as he fought the urge to avoid it. No matter what, Lee Kangjoo was the reason he hadn’t jumped off the bridge, the reason he’d enjoyed the luxury of IV nutrients at a hospital, and most of all, the reason he’d paid the interest. Ghosts would curse him if he took the money and ran without so much as a thank-you.
‘Would it be possible to get an advance?’
This fucking mouth. Why did he have to say that.
He’d start by thanking him. Say he’d pay the money back little by little. Explain that asking him to buy him had just been nonsense that slipped out when he’d temporarily lost his mind.
Things change once you’re out the door. The urgent fire at his feet was out now, so he could draw a line and say it hadn’t been rational thinking. Selling his body to women was a mutually beneficial arrangement, but adding men to the client list? His dick might perk up for money, but beyond that was impossible no matter how hard he thought about it.
Especially Lee Kangjoo. The image of an arowana’s huge, fluid body flashing through his mind made him shudder. At the same time, something downstairs almost lifted its head, and Haejun slapped his inner thigh hard with his palm, killing it.
He squeezed his eyes shut and hit the call button. The ringing went on for a long time. Just as he was about to hang up and send a text instead, the other side picked up.
—Yes.
