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KTSR | Chapter 21
by RAE“Look at this. You really like Cheolyong hyung, don’t you?”
Hyung, my ass. That’s disgusting. Fuck off.
Kwon Hyeongdo scoffed, realizing that Seon Ijin wasn’t someone who couldn’t call people by their titles—he just chose not to.
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“You love him to death, huh?”
Did these thug bastards even know how much Ijin was grinning like an idiot, acting like he was about to die from happiness?
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Kwon Hyeongdo, who had been smirking and passing by, suddenly halted.
Woo Cheolyong. That name sounded familiar.
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Not that it was uncommon—it was actually pretty standard, so he could’ve heard it anywhere. But something about it made the back of his neck tingle uncomfortably. Kwon Hyeongdo never ignored his instincts. They had saved his ass too many times.
In the end, he turned around and walked back into the stable. At the sound of the commotion, Seon Ijin whipped his head around.
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His eyes, which had been sparkling just moments ago, instantly dulled. It wasn’t just Clover who treated Hyeongdo differently. Seon Ijin himself played favorites when it came to people.
“What? You don’t like Hyeongdo oppa?”
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Ijin felt a chill run down his spine at the creepy nonsense Hyeongdo was spewing. So he really had heard him. Fucking rat, eavesdropping like that. A thug would always be a thug—there was no fixing them.
“Ijin-ah, who’s this?” The guy who was probably Woo Cheolyong bowed his head toward Seon Ijin as he asked.
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Tall as hell but looking totally useless. If a horse kicked him, he’d end up with multiple fractures and spend a good while in the hospital.
Kwon Hyeongdo lost interest immediately. The surname was uncommon, but the name itself was common enough to cause confusion. As expected, it was a face he had never seen before.
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“And who the hell are you? You look like someone flattened your face by falling on it.”
Ijin was left speechless by the blatant insult.
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“Oh. Are you from Colosseum? I’ve been coming here for a while now, so I didn’t expect to see an unfamiliar face. If I offended you, I apologize.”
Unlike the stunned Seon Ijin, who was now glaring at him, Woo Cheolyong remained composed. Hyeongdo had thought he’d be some weak little pushover, but maybe he had more guts than expected. Not that it made him any more interesting.
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If anything, Hyeongdo found it hilarious that this guy was acting all territorial, as if he had seniority here just because he’d been around longer. He nearly burst out laughing.
Flicking his spent cigarette away with his fingertips, Hyeongdo stepped closer.
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“You sure talk real gentlemanly. But see, I break out in hives when I’m around polite guys.”
Most of all, he couldn’t stand these fake-ass fox types.
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To Hyeongdo, Woo Cheolyong was nothing but a useless, overgrown husk. A guy like that trying to act sly? Just made him sick. As he approached, pretending to pick a fight, he studied Cheolyong’s face closely.
Yeah, it really did look like someone had crushed it.
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Hyeongdo’s expression turned even more unimpressed. This time, his gut feeling seemed to be leading him in a completely different direction.
“H-he’s the guy who changes the horseshoes and trims their hooves around here,” Seon Ijin quickly inserted himself between them.
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Even though Woo Cheolyong was lanky and scrawny compared to Kwon Hyeongdo, he was still way taller than Ijin.
It was annoying as hell getting caught up in this bullshit, but Ijin knew that if Hyeongdo decided to throw a punch, Cheolyong would be shredded in an instant. And they hadn’t even finished shoeing the horses yet…
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Besides, Cheolyong was one of the few people Ijin could talk to at this place outside of Bbang.
“Horses are sensitive to their surroundings. If you’re gonna start a fight, take it outside,” Ijin said, his tone firm.
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He stared straight at Hyeongdo, unflinching. Hyeongdo blinked and pointed at himself.
“Wait, I’m the one getting kicked out?”
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“Who else? Cheolyong hyung has to finish shoeing the horses.”
“You little shit. That really hurts my feelings.”
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“Stop saying creepy shit. Who the hell is your oppa? I think you misunderstood—I was speaking on behalf of Clover.”
“Who said otherwise? I was just speaking on behalf of my feelings. Hyeongdo oppa is fucking heartbroken.”
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Jesus Christ. Even the national anthem only had four verses, but this bullshit was endless.
Ijin was done responding.
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The horses were watching, and he didn’t want to make them anxious by dragging this out any further. Clovers, already on edge from the tension, started shifting nervously and foaming at the mouth.
Hyeongdo, who had been staring past Ijin at Woo Cheolyong, suddenly spoke up.
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“What kind of cigarettes do you smoke?”
Woo Cheolyong mentioned a rather rare cigarette brand. It was a Japanese one.
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Kwon Hyeongdo pulled out his own pack from his front pocket, stuck a cigarette between Woo Cheolyong’s lips, and patted his bony chest.
“Smoke local and be patriotic, Cheolyong oppa. Huh?”
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As Kwon Hyeongdo walked out, the stable was filled with Seon Ijin’s scoffing breaths as he tried to swallow his irritation. While brushing Clover’s favorite spot on the nape, he muttered to himself—Crazy bastard, total lunatic—when Woo Cheolyong came up to him and asked.
“So, who’s that guy?”
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“Oh, him? The new lunatic. Apparently, he’s an executive director. Just thinking about the thugs hanging around here already gives me the chills, and now they’ve got a director? You can imagine what kind of guy he is, right?”
“Wow… He’s a director at that age? He doesn’t even look forty-six…”
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“Forty-six?”
Ijin’s interest piqued at the oddly specific number. Woo Cheolyong hummed as if in thought, then shook his head with a chuckle.
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“No… I just figured you’d need to be at least that old to make it to an executive position. But I guess he must be rolling in money.”
“Doesn’t seem like it. Drives around in a junk car. They say he came from a gambling den, so maybe he was just running errands there—selling Bacchus or collecting bets?”
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Ijin muttered.
“Anyway, his personality is just… seriously annoying.”
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Woo Cheolyong, who had been quietly listening, let out a small smile. Ijin shot him a look that practically screamed, Why are you looking at me like that? In response, Woo Cheolyong shook his head before replying.
“I’ve known you for exactly two years now—almost three. But this is the first time I’ve ever heard you talk this much.”
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“…I talk a lot all the time.”
“You do. But you only talk about words. This is the first time you’ve talked about a person.”
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Woo Cheolyong’s remark was soft, more an observation than a reprimand. Still, Ijin’s face immediately scrunched up in irritation. No matter how much he liked Cheolyong hyung, that was not something he wanted to hear. He jumped to his feet and fiercely denied it.
“This isn’t about a person. That bastard’s a beast. So, hyung, if you ever run into that crazy bastard, steer clear. Don’t get involved.”
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Grumbling as he went to fetch the tools to change a horseshoe, Ijin threw in one last remark.
“I plan to do the same.”
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Seeing Ijin making a declaration he didn’t even need to, Woo Cheolyong burst into loud laughter.
***
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“Hey. Ijin.”
Even though he had been running like a madman without rest, Ijin was still human. He was bound to get exhausted.
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He didn’t even realize he was tired most of the time—he would just zone out completely, lost in a daze. And when that happened, time seemed to slip away from him, leaving him unaware of how long he had been spacing out.
“You look completely out of it. Your race is tomorrow, right?”
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“Yes.”
Ijin answered blankly, not even realizing the sky had changed colors until Bbang spoke to him.
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Clover seemed to be in high spirits after getting new horseshoes yesterday. Ijin had let him take slow laps around the practice track to get used to them, and his steps were light, almost cheerful.
“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be zoning out like this?”
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“Me? I’m just watching Clover.”
Ijin’s vacant response made Bbang close his mouth.
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After a brief silence, Ijin asked, “Why? Did you hear the rumors too, ajusshi?”
“What rumors?”
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“That if Seon Ijin places last, they’re gonna make me run laps until my feet fall off. That fat pig of a Team Leader lied to me. He said I just needed to place in the top ranks within two weeks… Fucking bastard.”
Ijin wiped under his nose.
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Bbang sat down beside him and lit a cigarette. Seeing that, Ijin muttered in a slightly nasal voice, “Give me one too.”
“You don’t smoke.”
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“I do now. Just lend me one.”
Bbang handed one over with a reluctant expression. Ijin took it and clumsily lit it.
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Then, as if he couldn’t believe it himself, he blurted out, “Why is it just me? Do other jockeys get treated like this too?”
Bbang decided to be blunt.
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“They get treated worse. You’re actually getting special treatment. Think about how you usually talk to people.”
“So, what, I should be grateful that they haven’t beaten me to death yet? Even though they keep threatening to make me run until my feet have holes in them every time I mess up? There are times I’d rather just get beaten and be done with it.”
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