IC C15

Chapter 15

―“Have you found something, sir?”

At the sound of Gemma’s voice, Lei Jun’s expression brightened, though, regrettably, what he had discovered was not the sort of “interest” Gemma hoped for.

“No. Just that I happened to get a rather amusing roommate.”

―“…Pardon?”

“He struts about with his guard raised, yet he’s so clumsy it’s almost comical. Impossible not to keep watching.”

Like a lone wolf pup thrust into alien ground—ever wary, ever vigilant—that was his roommate, Xie Wei. From the very beginning Lei Jun had sensed something peculiar about him. No matter how hard he strained to blend into Sovereign, Xie Wei always seemed slightly out of step. Even his vague story about Canada rang strangely.

Still, the world was full of all manner of people. Even if Xie Wei harbored secrets of his own, they were none of Lei Jun’s concern. Above all, as a roommate he was ideal—quiet, clean, not overly fussy. So he had left him to his own devices. Until one particular night.

“Uhh… hhh… Help… Please, save me…”

Past midnight, Xie Wei suddenly began to toss in his sleep. The man who never so much as snored was groaning in torment. Irritated at his rest being disturbed, yet intrigued, Lei Jun sat up to watch.

Though the room was dark, he could see from the lines of his face that Siwon’s features were twisted in distress. He whimpered as if locked in a nightmare too dreadful to endure.

“I… I only did it because they made me… Please don’t…”

His voice cracked in supplication, desperate, ragged. And curiously—it was not in Chinese or English, but in what sounded like Korean.

Lei Jun, intrigued, switched on a translation app on his phone.

“…Please save me… I only smuggled it out because I was ordered to… I’m sorry…”

The mangled syllables were captured, the translation flashing back at him. Lei Jun’s eyes narrowed, glinting with meaning.

So. Did this one carry secrets too? Another spy?

He let out a dry laugh. What a coincidence—two spies in one dormitory, both assigned under the guise of sheer chance. Even if Sovereign had planned it, they couldn’t have arranged it so precisely.

“…Hhhnn…”

And then Xie Wei actually whimpered. A grown man, shedding pitiful noises like a child. It was not a sight remotely endearing. Yet as a roommate, Lei Jun could not entirely ignore him.

“Xie Wei.”

“…”

“Xie Wei?”

He tried to wake him from the nightmare—but got no reaction. Almost as though he’d called the wrong name. In the end, shrugging, Lei Jun rolled back into bed.

Best to leave him be. Whoever stood behind him, or whether he’d come here by some foolish impulse, he was far too hapless to be a threat. Watching him squirm might even offer its own amusement.

―“Don’t tell me… you intend to remain in Sovereign longer because of this roommate? You must be fond of him.”

Gemma’s voice pulled him back from recollection. Lei Jun answered evenly,

“Hardly. Only one reason among many.”

―“…And this ‘roommate’ of yours… is it possible that—”

“What on earth are you imagining?”

―“I haven’t said a word.”

Her denial was polite, but her pauses dripped with innuendo.

“Dorm assignments are single‑sex. You know that much.”

―“Of course. And I also know you’re not a man for whom gender has ever been an obstacle.”

“I still have preferences. Being open about gender doesn’t mean anyone will do.”

―“…Then I must have misunderstood. My apologies, sir.”

Her apology was courteous, though she hadn’t been wholly mistaken.

Indeed, Xie Wei didn’t exactly fit Lei Jun’s taste for the guileless. But there were streaks of fragility beneath his constant vigilance that fascinated him nonetheless. Sometimes, a gentle nudge was all it took for him to lower his guard. That alone stirred Lei Jun’s mischief. In another context, another time, he might well have tested those boundaries.

Perceptive, yet blind all the same. Clueless about what he was inching toward. Pathetic, yes—but pitiful in a way that drew Lei Jun’s hand out, dropping hints to see how far he’d follow them.

“He does seem rather sharp, though.”

―“Whom do you mean?”

“No one.”

Lei Jun idly kicked a pebble back and forth across the ground, like a cat toying with a ball.

And he remembered that night in the private room. Xie Wei, who had been winning round after round with brazen confidence—then abruptly folded a major hand. Was it pure lack of greed, or a calculated retreat to grasp something greater later?

Whatever the reason, that detached, almost enlightened expression lingered in his thoughts.

“If fortune favors me, I’ll see him again soon. Briefly, merely in passing—but still.”

―“Ah—about that matter, sir. I must inform you—I won’t be making the Hong Kong trip.”

“Is that so? Sensible enough. No harm in caution. As long as my partner arrives on time, it matters little.”

―“Yes. Su‑ah Kim is preparing. I trust you received the invitation?”

“Mhm.”

An elite social gathering was soon to be held in Hong Kong. As a mere casino dealer, he could never set foot there directly, so he had arranged to accompany a suitable woman, entering as her partner.

His eyes flicked toward his room, where the delicate envelope containing the invitation rested. The lights had just gone dark.

Perhaps Xie Wei had gone to bed.

“If there’s nothing else, we’ll end it here, Gemma.”

―“Understood. Please be careful, always, sir.”

Before she finished, Lei Jun ended the call, slipped the phone into his pocket, and strolled back indoors.

His curious little roommate might well be writhing in nightmares again.

He would not miss the show.

They say you see only as much as you know.

Since uncovering Sovereign Casino’s hidden rot, Kang Siwon had begun to notice what he’d been blind to before. What once passed as merely suspicious—brushed aside with “these things happen”—now revealed itself with new clarity. He now had a fair sense of how certain patrons scattered their cash into small chips, weaving it through the casino’s veins.

The bile of disgust rose in him each time he handled the exchanges. His hands felt unclean—his very self unclean—for abetting things he knew to reek. More than once he had flung cold water at his own face in revulsion.

He had never lived a spotless life, granted. But being a dog with fleas didn’t make another dog rolling in shit any less filthy.

“Hahh…”

As ever, Baeksa‑pa demanded data on specific patrons. Today’s man was one Siwon himself had already been wary of. He filed the information, and a heavy sigh rumbled from his chest.

“What the hell are these bastards planning to use this for?”

He muttered as he glared at the phone in his hand. Blackmail, no doubt—what else could it be? Collecting tax‑evasion data was hardly for good deeds.

Bzzz.

The phone buzzed suddenly. Caller ID: Jushang.

Siwon frowned. The timing was sharp enough to suspect the device was bugged.

“…Hello?”

―“Come down to the employee parking lot.”

Jushang’s voice, curt and irritable as always. He was forever this way. Siwon didn’t take it personally.

“I’ll be right there.”

He hung up and rose. Whenever secrecy was required, meetings in Jushang’s car were the norm. Clearly tonight was one such instance.

God willing, it wasn’t something darker. But Siwon knew better. With a sigh, he left the dorm.

The familiar car sat waiting in the dim garage. He slid into the passenger seat.

“Good evening.”

“You’re traveling from the 21st to the 24th this month.”

Jushang wasted no words on pleasantries.

“Get your passport ready. You’re going to Hong Kong.”

“Already?”

The question slipped out before Siwon could stop it. He regretted it at once when Jushang’s expression clouded with irritation.

“So you were planning to wait until your permit expired before running? Want to become an overstayer that badly?”

“…”

Why was this man forever contrary? Then again, such was the temperament of those who gave their loyalty to a syndicate.

To be fair, his point was valid. To avoid overstaying, one had to plan ahead. Siwon had now been stationed at Sovereign for nearly six months. His permitted stay was ending.

By law, Koreans could remain in Macau without a visa for up to 90 days. But if they left for a day to a third country, then re‑entered, the clock reset. Most long‑staying foreigners therefore popped over to Hong Kong at intervals—a trick known as a “visa run.”

Siwon himself had done one three months earlier. Now, it was time for his second.