Free Web NovelHe managed to squeeze out a single day off.
Of course, the boss didn’t approve it easily. He put on a dying voice over the phone, threw in a few coughs, faked being sick, but the boss snapped back asking where the fuck he thought he was slacking off, threatening to beat the dust out of him if he didn’t show up immediately.
Normally, that would’ve been enough for him to tuck his tail and cave. But between the mental shock of messing with a gangster’s woman and the physical damage covering his soles, he really wanted to just collapse for one damn day. So Haejun didn’t back down.
‘Even if I go in looking like this, you think I’ll get picked? I’ll just drag the shop’s image through the mud. No, the noona will come in, say this place is fucking gross, and spread the word. Then how am I supposed to pay back that Mic King loan?’
That’s how he argued his case, smooth as hell. He wasn’t exactly smart, but when a person’s trying to survive, their tongue gets greased and their IQ spikes. He got cursed out plenty, but in the end, he got what he wanted.
Terrified that the goons might be waiting at the dorm, Haejun didn’t step one foot outside Yohan’s place. Yohan acted like he didn’t give a shit whether Haejun lived or died, but in the morning he slipped out, activated a used phone, and tossed it at him.
“Don’t bitch about being bored. And don’t call me, I’m working.”
“Thank you, sir! I will never forget this kindness, sir!”
He bowed so deep his forehead almost hit the floor as he accepted the phone. It was an old model, but it had enough space to install at least one game.
“Feed yourself.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And think about what you’re gonna do from here on out.”
“Y-yes.......”
Haejun’s mood sank instantly. Even seeing the dark cloud hanging over his head, Yohan just clicked his tongue and left.
Yohan worked two jobs—delivery during the day, host at night. Once, Haejun asked why he was so desperate for money, and Yohan said that even if owning a place in this city was impossible, if he ever wanted a house somewhere in the provinces, he had to burn through his youth and stack up a lump sum now. A sharp guy, really.
Compared to him—
“.......”
Haejun pulled the blanket over his head and curled up. Maybe getting beaten nonstop by his father as a kid had wiped out his brain cells, because thinking was really not his strong suit. At school, it was faster to count his rank from the bottom, and math symbols all looked like alien language. He was fine with addition, subtraction, multiplication, division—but fractions and decimals were a nightmare.
Worried there might actually be something wrong with his intelligence, he’d even gotten tested once. Thankfully, he was normal. Just weaker than average when it came to studying and calculations.
No manual dexterity, bad at studying, not sharp or decisive like Yohan. All he had was a smooth, straight, pretty pink dick without a single hair on it, the bedroom skills he’d learned with his body, and the ways he’d picked up for acting cute with women. And of all things, he had to mess with a gangster’s mistress, meaning he couldn’t work anymore.
So how the hell was he supposed to make a living from now on?
Like thinking would give him an answer. Haejun lay there staring at the ceiling, holding his phone. There was no TV, nothing to do but mess with the phone Yohan gave him. He downloaded a game and waited for it to install when suddenly, that low voice from yesterday brushed past his ear.
‘What a cheap little party.’
“Eek—!”
Haejun jolted upright in terror. If he were a cat, he might’ve jumped straight to the ceiling. That’s how on edge he was. Goosebumps erupted on his arms, and the fine white hairs stood up like reeds in the wind.
Just remembering the voice did this to him. Even horror movies weren’t this scary. He rubbed his arms hard and pulled the blanket over his head. The window was shut tight, no cold air was sneaking in, but it felt like the room temperature had dropped ten degrees.
“It’s fine. It’s fine.”
He could quit the shop, sign an IOU promising to pay back the Mic King loan, leave this city entirely, live somewhere else under a different name. Then even a gangster wouldn’t be able to track him down.
Shivering, Haejun talked himself through it. Even if the sky falls, there’s always a crack to crawl through. He’d been beaten to the brink of death by his father and loan sharks and dumped in back alleys, and he’d still survived this long.
“I won’t die. It’s fine.”
This time would be the same. That’s what he wanted to believe.
* * *
Had a day ever gone by this fast? Night came in the blink of an eye, Yohan came home complaining he hadn’t gotten picked, and then morning arrived. His body, used to a flipped day-night cycle, didn’t wake up until afternoon. He stretched and saw Yohan was already gone.
“I don’t want to work.”
He muttered blankly. Checking his phone, it was almost time to head in. No way that greedy bastard of a boss would let him take two days off. Haejun burrowed back under the blanket, then lifted his messy head. Avoiding it wouldn’t solve anything. Sometimes you had to face things head-on.
After showering, he texted Yohan to say he was borrowing some clothes and opened the closet. They were similar in height and build, so they’d shared clothes before. Having at least some conscience, he avoided the new stuff and picked out older clothes instead. Thankfully, with his small head and long limbs, ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) model proportions, he looked decent in anything. He slapped some wax into his thick hair, styled it roughly, then smacked his cheeks with both hands.
“Even if the sky falls, there’s always a way out!”
He chanted his motto at the reflection like self-hypnosis. The sky did seem to fall way too often, but still, after a day’s rest, the thoughts of getting buried alive had faded a bit.
Using the allowance Yohan gave him, he took the subway to the shop. Winter was creeping closer, and dusk fell early. He slipped into the darkened alley, opened the back door, and went inside. Since they hadn’t opened yet, chairs were still flipped on the tables and the lights were dim. He crossed the familiar path and reached the waiting room.
“Hyung, you’re here.”
“Word is, when you were fucking that noona, you couldn’t even get it up.”
“I heard she got pissed and kicked you in the balls.”
A few guys were already there, gossiping away. They were the swallows belonging to this shop. The type that valued stability—unlike the grasshoppers hopping from field to field, they’d settled here. ...That was the excuse. In reality, just like Haejun, they were shackled by Mic King loans. ƒгeewebnovёl.com
“Who the fuck said it didn’t get up? If my dick didn’t work, you think I’d be here today?”
Haejun puffed out his chest and bluffed. The truth—that his balls had shriveled up after meeting a gangster—was something he’d never admit, even if his mouth tore.
“By the way, the boss was looking for you. Said you weren’t answering your phone.”
“What? I didn’t get any calls.”
He hurriedly pulled out his phone, and his face instantly filled with despair. It was on silent, no vibration. Same number as before, so mixed in with all the spam and collection messages were ten missed calls. The most recent text was pure profanity.
“Ah, fuck.”
This was not the time to loiter. Haejun bolted out of the waiting room like a duck with its tail on fire and rushed to the boss’s office. He took a breath in front of the door, fixed his clothes and hair, then knocked twice. fгeewebnovёl.com
“Boss, it’s Hajin.”
The alias he’d made when he first started this job. He’d tried to use his real name, but got cursed out for being an idiot—who the hell uses their real name in this line of work. He’d gotten it from a fortune-teller. The shaman said this name would make his fate bloom.
He’d paid a whole 100,000 won for that naming. Feels like money down the drain. If his fate was meant to bloom, he wouldn’t have gotten tangled up with a gangster’s woman in the first place.
“Come in.”
At the heavy voice, he wrung his clammy hands and opened the door, stepping inside with hunched shoulders and a servile smile.
The boss was seated at his desk, thick fingers rolling the mouse wheel. The luxury glasses perched on his plain face looked strangely out of place.
Now, he looked like the kind of guy you’d call a wild boar’s cousin and get friendly with, but back in the day, the boss had been one of the top heartthrobs in the business. Since most people didn’t believe him, he always carried photos from his prime in his wallet.
He’d built this shop with the money he made as a host. Greedy for cash, he’d also taken up loan-sharking. Calling it a side gig was generous—judging by what he did, daily loans were his real job.
They say time shows on a man’s face. Whatever his youth had been like, now in middle age, the boss lived up to his looks—quick with his fists, never hesitating to cut off someone’s ankle. Just imagining it made Haejun bow even lower.
“My phone broke, so I didn’t know you called. I’m sorry, boss.”
The boss stared at him with bulging eyes. Just that fierce glare crushed his spirit. Should he drop to his knees? Haejun was seriously considering it.
“You little bastard.”
Kneel. He relaxed his legs. Just as his knees bent halfway—
“You pretty little bastard.”
The boss suddenly jumped up and walked over. He slung his thick, fat arm around Haejun’s neck, tucking him under his armpit, and messed up his hair like crazy.
