HYDP C33

Chapter 33

“Sanhong, can’t I come again tomorrow?”

“……”

“No answer, huh.”

Running his fingers gently through Sanhong’s hair, Cheonguk felt his reason shake under the warmth of that gentle scent.

He wanted to softly press his lips against the crown of Sanhong’s head, but he knew if he did, he might end up biting that innocent spot instead. So he decided against it.

For over an hour, Cheonguk simply watched Sanhong’s sleeping face. In the end, he left behind a small note and quietly slipped out of the room, then out of the pawnshop.

“…Haa.”

Still weary, Sanhong sat up to drink some water to wet his throat. That was when he caught sight of the mess on the floor—as if someone had tracked dirt all over the room. Alarmed, he glanced around and then noticed something.

It was the note.

[Don’t take sleeping pills.]

“……”

In that instant, Sanhong’s instincts came alive, sharp as a ghost’s. He glanced around quickly and immediately rushed to the entrance. The door, which he remembered locking the night before, was slightly misaligned.

“…He’s really insane.”

When exactly had he come and gone? Cheonguk had left his trace so blatantly it left Sanhong speechless. Returning to his room, he glanced at his phone, only to be shocked again.

There were missed calls from the early dawn hours.

Trying to shake off the confusion in his head, Sanhong decided: he would erase Cheonguk from his life. He opened the calendar app on his phone.

His cycle was approaching.

“This time… who should I ask for help.”

On cycle days, he had to be especially careful of Seo Kang-jo, who was always lurking and trying to take advantage. He had to remain vigilant. Soon, he decided, he would stop by the shop to pick up what he needed. Weapons—guns or a balisong knife—that was all.

Sanhong flung open every door and window of the pawnshop to air it out. Then he scrubbed the dirtied floor, straightened the askew furniture, and restored the room to order.

After that, he brought out the debtor list and studied it for a long while. He noticed that Mr. Park, the hardware store owner who had recently been taking a bigger cut from gambling winnings, hadn’t repaid his principal and interest since two months ago. Worse, checking the dates, Sanhong realized tomorrow would mark exactly six months overdue.

“The number you dialed is not in service. Please check and try again.”

“…Haa. So troublesome.”

Not only had Mr. Park blocked his number, he’d even changed it entirely. Letting out a helpless sigh, Sanhong peeled back a banana from the fridge as he began to plan his day.

First, he would head out to the gamblers’ den and confront Mr. Park. He would try to talk it over, and one way or another collect both the principal and interest. After preparing himself, Sanhong hung a sign on the entrance reading he was temporarily out, then left the pawnshop.

[Golden Illusion]

These days, it was the most profitable gambling hall in Horangyong-dong. Despite the early hour, the place knew no distinction between day and night; noise spilled outside even before Sanhong entered.

The air reeked of stale cigarettes, and trash littered the ground. Carefully tugging the door, he stepped inside.

The din hit immediately. Gambling machines whirred and clanged, people locked in one-on-one poker matches shouted at their seats.

The owner, Park Kang-sik, who made money by endlessly loaning out cash to pathetic gamblers, spotted Sanhong and waved warmly. Before long, his hand had already slipped to Sanhong’s waist.

“Well, well, what brings Sanhong here at this hour, not working?”

“I am working.”

“Ahh, came to collect money you’re owed?”

“Yeah.”

With that, he stepped aside surprisingly easily—just noting how hard-working Sanhong was for being here in the morning. But before Sanhong moved farther in, Park warned him again.

“Don’t cause too much trouble. I’ve got a business to run here.”

“I’ll keep the damage light.”

“Ha~ Fuck, you don’t promise there’ll be none, though.”

Waving him off to tend to his work, Park plopped into his chair and returned to watching TV. He signaled to his underlings scattered around the den not to interfere. Focused, Sanhong sought out his target, intent on minimizing disruption.

Past the open floor corner for non-members, he finally entered the members-only section.

The interior looked like a raccoon’s den, choked with thick smoke. Drunkards, barely able to sit upright, still clung to their gambling.

There, among them, Sanhong spotted the back of Mr. Park’s head.

He was sitting at a long table, chatting with some others. Suddenly one man pointed at him and shouted:

“This bastard’s a total twisted pretzel today! He’s completely Fucked!”

“Shut your damn mouth!”

The word “pretzel” (꽈배기) was gambling slang for someone who only loses.

Hearing the taunt, Mr. Park’s anger exploded. He wanted to flip the table right there, but the others only laughed at him, treating him as easy prey.

On days when you didn’t win even once, you were a target all day long.

At that moment, Sanhong quietly approached and tapped him on the shoulder. Mr. Park hunched over, not turning around.

He tapped again—firmly this time. Irritation mounting, Mr. Park turned, snarling.

“Ah, damn—who the hell…!”

“Mr. Park. Long time no see.”

“…S-Sanhong…!”

Leaping up, he pressed himself to the wall as if seeing a ghost. His eyes darted around for an escape, but Sanhong blocked his way.

“We had an agreement.”

“Wh-what agreement!”

“You promised to repay principal and interest on time. I trusted you with that loan. And you betrayed me.”

Sanhong tilted his head, raising his brows as he looked at the man’s speechless face. Speaking calmly, he didn’t let Mr. Park look away.

Around them, people watched in fascination.

“Shut up! I never made such a promise—get the hell out of my way!”

“You even changed your number. Don’t make me feel disappointed.”

“Damn it!”

Snatching up a chair, Mr. Park flung it at Sanhong. But Sanhong dodged lightly, sighed, then drove his foot mercilessly into Mr. Park’s side.

Thud—!

“Ku, gak…!”

Mr. Park’s knees caved in instantly.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to hit that hard.”

“…Khh—!”

Clutching his side, gasping, his face flushed red and he rolled on the floor, on the verge of fainting. Seizing the chance, Sanhong knelt, staring into his eyes.

“Saying we never made an agreement is a lie. Here’s the contract.”

“…Urgh… S-Sanhong! J-Just once, please!”

“I gave you all the warnings, too.”

With scarred hands, Sanhong stroked his face. The gesture looked sacred, drawing a murmur of awe from Park Kang-sik watching from afar.

“Damn. Every time I see that kid, I just want him under me.”

“Boss, with hands like that, you’d be the one under him.”

“Fuck, are you telling me to bottom?!”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that—”

Snapping at the nonsense, Park quickly returned his focus to Sanhong.

Judging by the way he suddenly sobered up, that single blow had rattled Mr. Park awake. Nervous now, he dropped to his knees, rubbing his hands together, begging frantically.

“J-Just give me a little more time! Please…!”

Despite his pitiful expression, his words rang hollow.

“I really was going to pay! But I need money to keep my shop running, too! If I pay the interest now, I may have to shut down completely!”

“That’s not my fault.”

“…Sanhong, please, let’s think about this rationally! I will pay, I swear! I’ll pay up!”

The plea struck his ears, but trust was already long gone.

The begging bored him now. Still, not wanting to disrupt another man’s business too much, Sanhong decided to offer a final mercy.

“If you don’t step into my pawnshop by the end of this week, I’ll be tearing down your hardware store sign first.”

“Yes, yes! I’ll be there!”

“And don’t even think of running. I’ll collect it one way or another.”

“Of course! I intend to pay!”

“Not intend. You have to.”

Sanhong gave him a pitying look for still not understanding even now.

Truth was, it wasn’t that Mr. Park had been completely unlucky lately—he had been bragging that his luck was on fire. On top of that, jewelry that someone of his supposed means couldn’t possibly afford had appeared on his wrists and fingers. He’d either cheated the pot or found a rich patron, one of the two.

“For now, I’ll be collecting the ring you left as collateral.”

“…What? Why!”

“You’re the one who broke the promise first. I’m just following the rules.”

“N-no! That’s my kid’s first-birthday ring!”

If it mattered that much to him, he shouldn’t have pawned it in the first place, Sanhong thought bitterly, turning his back on him.

Footnotes

 

 

1. Pretzel (꽈배기) – Gambling slang mocking someone who only loses; likens them to a twisted fried dough. 
2. First-birthday ring (돌 반지) – A traditional Korean gift, usually gold, given to a baby on their first birthday (돌, dol).