“It’s time to quit.”
“Hold out a little longer. I still haven’t hit my target amount.”
“What’s the target?”
Still lying facedown, Yohan spread his fingers. Seeing the number, Haejun’s eyes went wide in shock.
“A hundred million?”
“If it were ten, I’d have quit ages ago.”
“How much have you saved?”
“More than half?”
“Holy shit.”
Hearing about Yohan’s bank balance—something completely different from his own—Haejun wilted instantly. He rubbed the back of his neck without much energy.
“You okay, though?”
“I’m fine. It’s been a while since I drank. No hangover either.”
“Must be nice, being healthy. But what’s with that face?”
Only then did Yohan seem to really look at him, jerking his chin toward Haejun. Haejun turned his head and checked his reflection in the convenience store’s glass.
No hangover, sure—but he looked paler than a sheet of paper, like someone who’d been tortured all night. Well, he hadn’t slept properly and had been drowning in worry, so it figured.
“The crazy bastard next door.”
“That fucker act up again?”
The moment he woke up, Haejun had gone straight to hard labor in front of his door, armed with thinner from a dawn delivery. Wearing a mask and gloves, soaking a rag in solvent, scrubbing with all his strength—the bright red graffiti still refused to come off, like it was mocking him. He’d poured everything into it until people started heading to work, but the traces remained stubbornly intact.
“Can I crash at your place for a while?”
The image of the rusted blade shoved through the crack in the door flickered before his eyes. The guy was insane—completely unpredictable. Staying home might get him hurt for no reason. At the very least, the bastard seemed to watch his behavior around Lee Kangjoo, so it felt safer to only come back when Lee Kangjoo called, and lie low somewhere else the rest of the time.
“Why. What’d that asshole do to you?”
Yohan’s eyes, dull from the hangover, sharpened instantly. Haejun shook his head. Even if Yohan went over there, there was no real solution against a knife-wielding lunatic.
“He keeps throwing a fit about noise, so I’m just gonna avoid the place. I’ll only go back when I’ve got work.”
He brushed it off with a casual smile. Yohan accepted it without ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) pressing further. He’d found a shelter. Whether he waited for the psycho to get kicked out, or eventually rolled up his sleeves and settled it head-on—that was something to worry about later, once he’d recovered some strength.
* * *
After knocking out a few delivery jobs, Haejun went home and tried again to clean the graffiti off his door. Part of him wanted to grab the crazy neighbor by the collar and drag him out, screaming at him to deal with his own mess—but better to avoid filth than fear it. Gritting his teeth, Haejun scrubbed until his arms throbbed.
It was pointless.
The next day, even more colorful insults decorated his door. That wasn’t all—this time there was blue mixed in too. The insane bastard was impressively dedicated, at least.
If only the CCTV had caught him, he could’ve taken it to the police. Unfortunately, the one mounted in the ceiling corner had been broken for over a month. Plenty of suspicion, zero evidence—filing a report was useless.
To make things worse, today was the day Lee Kangjoo was coming by.
Haejun took a day off and scrubbed the door again. Even drenched in sweat and hanging off it for hours, the marks wouldn’t disappear completely. A sense of futility crept in. Why bother putting in this much effort when it’d just reappear tomorrow?
Still, he couldn’t let Lee Kangjoo see it like that. Haejun cleaned with everything he had. The stains were still faintly visible, but the obscene words were smeared enough to be hard to read. That would have to do. Wiping the sweat off, he went back inside.
After showering, he sprawled out on the sofa. Just that alone had drained him completely. At this rate, if Lee Kangjoo came over, wouldn’t he collapse again halfway through like last time? Better to be prepared—mind and body. With that thought, he opened the fridge.
Just as he took out an energy drink, he heard the keypad being pressed. Haejun hurried over and opened the door.
Lee Kangjoo stood there, one hand tucked into his pocket. His gaze, which had been aimed elsewhere, slowly slid over to Haejun.
“You’re here.”
Haejun flashed a bright smile and stepped aside. Lee Kangjoo didn’t enter. Instead, he gestured toward the outer wall with his thumb.
“There was some interesting graffiti out there.”
“Pardon?”
He’d scrubbed it so hard—did that lunatic seriously come back and add more already? Eyes wide, Haejun rushed outside.
Sure enough. Even while Haejun had been home, the culprit had casually left fresh graffiti. The level of abuse was beyond imagination.
Haejun’s mouth fell open. In that short span of time, the guy had managed to spray it and slip away like a rat.
Haejun ushered Lee Kangjoo inside first, then closed the door. Before shutting it completely, he carefully scanned the hallway—especially the neighboring unit.
If the door so much as cracked open, he’d planned to hurl insults back on purpose. But it was shut tight, like a clam shell. The bastard clearly knew Lee Kangjoo was here. For a crazy fuck, he had frighteningly good instincts.
“Care to explain what’s going on?”
Worried Lee Kangjoo might be angry, Haejun checked his expression first. But his face was calm. He’d clearly seen the graffiti with his own eyes, yet there wasn’t even a hint of irritation—no scoff, no smile. Same as always. For a split second, Haejun wondered if he’d imagined the whole thing.
But that was impossible. His arms were still sore from scrubbing the door since early morning. And Lee Kangjoo had asked about it himself. Interesting graffiti. There was no way it was a mistake.
“Well....”
Haejun let out a sigh first. So it had come to this. He’d wanted to handle it on his own if possible, but now that it was out in the open, hiding it was pointless. He dragged both hands down his face and looked up at Lee Kangjoo.
“A crazy guy moved in next door.”
Haejun was serious, but maybe the sight amused him—Lee Kangjoo covered his mouth and let out a quiet laugh. It’s true, Haejun insisted, eyes wide as he continued. He’d planned to trim the details, pick and choose what to say, but Lee Kangjoo’s reaction only fueled him.
“At first he left notes, then he came over complaining about noise, and a few days ago he even did that weird graffiti. I checked with other neighbors just in case, and they said they can’t hear anything at all. I’m pissed. I was so worried he’d cause trouble that when I was home, I even walked around on my tiptoes.”
Even as he vented, Haejun kept his voice low, wary the neighbor might start banging on the wall or door. Lee Kangjoo perched on a chair, watching the fuming Haejun. One hand propped under his chin, relaxed. He looked like the kind of man who wouldn’t be particularly surprised even if the lunatic next door charged in waving a knife.
“And he still pulled that shit.”
“Yes. I got so angry I chased him to his place, and that psycho shoved a knife through the door crack. Said he’d kill me.”
“A knife?”
The gentle curve in Lee Kangjoo’s eyes sharpened slightly. Haejun, oblivious to the change, kept going.
“I mean, it was ridiculous. He’s the one causing problems, and he says if I make noise one more time he’ll split my belly open.”
“So he threatened you.”
At the calm tone, Haejun let out a surprisingly brave snort. Seeing the blade had chilled him to the bone, sure—but his life hadn’t exactly been easy either.
He’d been hounded by loan sharks, subjected to every kind of insult, beaten, threatened with having his organs ripped out and sold. Compared to that, this was nothing.
“So for the time being....”
Chirping away like a bird, Haejun suddenly clamped his mouth shut. Telling the man who’d provided this place that he’d be staying somewhere else felt awkward. It could come off as rejecting his goodwill.
Still, honesty was better. After some hesitation, Haejun spoke.
“I decided to stay at a friend’s place. Actually, I was just coming from there today.”
“What friend?”
“Yohan. My closest friend. His place is a bit far, but if you call me, I’ll come right away.”
“Hm.”
Lee Kangjoo tapped his chin lightly with his index finger, as if deep in thought. His gaze never left Haejun.
“Is there anything else you need to pack from here?”
The question came out of nowhere. Haejun blinked, not quite grasping it.
“What?”
“My place would probably be more comfortable than your friend’s.”
“For me? I’m fine, really—”
“Not you. Me.”
“You mean, sir?”
“Why. You don’t want to?”
Haejun blinked again. He couldn’t immediately grasp what Lee Kangjoo was suggesting. Five seconds later, realization hit him and he let out a small gasp.
“You’re saying I can go to your place?”
“You said there’s a crazy guy living next door. Until that’s dealt with, you have to stay somewhere else anyway.”
“Well, that’s true, but....”
“Is there really that much difference between a friend’s place and mine? If you’re working, my place would be more convenient too.”
Without realizing it, Haejun nodded. He was more than halfway convinced. Staying at Lee Kangjoo’s meant no commuting—his body would have it easier. Whether his mind would, though, was another question. Yohan was basically family; squeezing together in a tiny room never bothered him. But Lee Kangjoo was different.
“What are you doing? You’re not moving.”
Lee Kangjoo pressed the hesitating Haejun. He could refuse if he really wanted to—but he was intensely curious about what kind of place Lee Kangjoo lived in.
No one knew how long this arrangement would last. Wouldn’t it be nice to see it at least once before it ended? Haejun cut off the inner debate. It felt like a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and he didn’t want to let it slip.
