KTSR | Chapter 30

Ijin trembled, barely holding himself back, but in the end, he couldn’t resist and threw a punch.

“Oh-oh.”

Hyeongdo caught the punch with his palm without breaking a sweat.

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It didn’t stop at just one hit. Maybe because of his small build, Ijin was quite fast. He kept swinging, but Hyeongdo effortlessly blocked every single strike. He wasn’t even flustered—in fact, he looked like he was enjoying himself.

“Oh! Left! Right! Hook, hook—no, no! From there, you should throw a jab!”

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“Just take the hit, you son of a bitch!”

Ijin flailed wildly, but it was like playing in the palm of Hyeongdo’s hand. His desperate punches didn’t even amount to a proper game in Hyeongdo’s eyes.

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It was only when Ijin used his feet that he finally managed to land a hit. He kicked Hyeongdo in the shin, but ironically, the one who collapsed from pain was Ijin himself. While Ijin clutched his foot and groaned, Hyeongdo merely glanced down at him and finally got around to brushing his teeth, something he’d been putting off.

Curled up like that, Seon Ijin looked even smaller. This tiny thing, with no sense of fear, had the audacity to act all tough and reckless—it was honestly hilarious. It reminded Hyeongdo of a dog he once saw in Seoul, a small thing with bulging eyes that barked incessantly. Maybe that was why, even though anyone else who dared to challenge him would’ve been beaten to a pulp, Hyeongdo found himself treating Ijin’s absurd behavior as nothing more than a joke.

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“Must hurt a lot, huh?”

Ijin was still groaning. That pained sound was starting to get to him again. It was easy to get him up again, Seon Ijin. He’d thought that once he tasted it, the excitement would wear off. But it was the opposite.

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“I’m built different, you know. Solid bones.”

Even just looking at the shape of his kneecaps, it seemed true. Ijin swore to himself that next time, he was going to smack that annoyingly smooth face of Hyeongdo’s.

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After finishing his brushing, Hyeongdo wiped his damp lips, eyes gleaming. Ijin was still curled up. Watching him for a moment, Hyeongdo suddenly lunged, grabbing him and throwing him onto the bed, which had just barely dried. The rough fabric, hardened with all sorts of dried fluids, scraped against Ijin’s bare skin.

Just as Hyeongdo had said, Ijin ended up staying two more days, only returning to the Colosseum on the third day.

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Unlike Ijin, who was visibly drained, walking awkwardly with a pale face, Hyeongdo looked like he’d been feasting on vitality itself, his skin practically glowing.

“My dear Ijin, since you had a nice long break, you better work your ass off to make up for it, got it?”

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Hyeongdo grinned, his face annoyingly bright as he patted Ijin’s ass a couple of times.

Even that much sent shocks through his lower back and tailbone.

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Up until that morning, Ijin had tried to throw a few more punches at Hyeongdo whenever he had the chance. But now, even twisting his waist was a challenge, leaving him with no choice but to swallow down his frustration. If he had a knife, he would’ve stabbed the bastard already. The asshole. Three whole nights and days, and that’s all they did.

“See you around, sweetheart. I’ll be waiting with my balls nice and full.”

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Instead of replying, Ijin smacked the side mirror of Hyeongdo’s car with his palm before making a run for it.

His legs were sore from being spread apart for so long. He was moving slower than a newborn fawn, each step agonizingly sluggish. Watching his limping figure, Hyeongdo burst out laughing.

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Just as Hyeongdo had said, Ijin could tell that the way the gangsters looked at him had changed. Their eyes were rotten to begin with, but now they were even more lewd and disgusting. When their gazes lingered on his ass, it felt as if they were spitting on him. Even when stepping out for a bit, he had to wrap himself up tightly in clothes. But at some point, he thought, What’s the damn point of this shitty act? and just stopped caring altogether. It was all because of Hyeongdo.

With a scowl, Ijin stepped into the stable.

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The other jockeys were there, their expressions unusually tense. They barely interacted with each other on normal days, but even so, he had to ask.

“What happened?”

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At his question, one of the senior jockeys shook his head. Then, leaning in, he whispered,

“That bastard who doped his horse got kicked out. Word is, he was sent to a house to do Bacchus work. But you know… they call it Bacchus, but…”

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His face darkened even more.

A more talkative jockey couldn’t hold back and chimed in.

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“No, that’s not it. I heard from a gangster I know—he was sent to C.C. We need to be careful, too. You know what happens to people who end up there. It’s obvious.”

As soon as Ijin left the stable, he started asking around about the rumors, trying to piece them together. But the more he heard, the more tangled and unclear the truth became. In the end, the last thing he heard from Bbang was this:

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— “They’re using them as pouches. They cut open their bellies, shove drug packets inside, and send them off.”

Whether it was true or not, even Bbang didn’t know for sure.

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Drugs…

A shiver ran down Ijin’s spine. The rumor had spread among the jockeys as if it were a common occurrence. It was already too specific to be dismissed as mere speculation.

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Was Hyeongdo trying to distribute the drugs, or was he trying to get rid of them?

He never got a clear answer. By the time he heard something about “half of it being right,” he was too out of it to even remember what he had asked in the first place.

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Ah, idiot. I should’ve kept my head straight. Focus… I need to focus…

Ah. There’s something I have to—

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“Clover!”

Lost in thought, Ijin suddenly lifted his head.

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It felt like he had barely noticed time passing, and yet, he had left Clover alone for almost half a day. Panicked, he bolted back to the stable. Inside, Clover was eating his feed.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I was late, wasn’t I? Ah, I’m so sorry, what do I do?”

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Hearing Ijin’s desperate apologies from a distance, Clover raised his head—then, with a sharp huff, he spat out his feed.

If Ijin had been a little closer, he would’ve gotten hit. He stopped in his tracks, waiting, when he saw Clover spit again.

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Clover was pissed.

The anger in his eyes screamed, How could you abandon me for days and forget about me? His emotions were laid bare, without any attempt to hide them, just like a child. The guilt in Ijin’s chest only grew heavier.

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Aside from his grandmother, who was in the hospital, Clover was Ijin’s only family. He was also the only friend he had to rely on in the Colosseum. Clover was so temperamental that he never got along with other horses, so he must have been lonely, waiting for Ijin.

I’m the only family and friend you have too, aren’t I…?

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“I’m sorry for being late….”

But even to his only friend, there were things he could never say.

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Ijin believed that Clover could read his words and emotions. That was why he wanted to keep everything with Hyeongdo a secret. If he pretended nothing happened, if he acted like everything was fine, then Clover wouldn’t be anxious or hurt.

Last time, after being utterly wrecked by those bastards for four days, Clover had refused to eat the moment he saw him. It had been dangerous—he had almost lost him. He couldn’t let that happen again.

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“No.”

Forcing a bright smile, Ijin said,

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“Nothing happened. It was just my fault. But to make it up to you, I’ll groom you all day today.”

There were things he couldn’t tell anyone.

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Those secrets piled up inside him, turning into a hardened lump, almost like a stone weighing down his chest.

Even so, with his trembling legs barely holding him up, he devoted himself to taking care of Clover. He changed the feed, brushed his coat…

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“I’m really sorry. I never abandoned you. I mean it.”

He whispered his apologies again and again as he stroked Clover’s mane, but Clover refused to let it go. More than anything, it seemed like he had sensed the heavy, simmering anger inside Ijin. Snorting aggressively, he kicked his back legs against the ground in frustration.

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Ijin imagined Hyeongdo standing behind that deadly kick, picturing the bastard’s guts getting smashed to bits. That thought alone helped lighten his mood a little.

When he finally managed to cheer up and coax Clover, the horse’s attitude softened a little. He finally started looking at him again.

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Only then did Ijin manage to smile for real.

“Clover, I’m really sorry. It’s not that I neglected you, I just…”

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But just as Clover finally turned to face him, Ijin noticed something—his eyes had more discharge than usual.

He froze.

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Horses, like cows, were prone to eye infections. Sometimes, their eyelids could become so swollen that they wouldn’t be able to blink at all. And the Colosseum’s dirty lane was just as filthy as its name suggested. The thought of all that dust getting into Clover’s eyes terrified him.

Up until now, Ijin had resigned himself to the fact that all he could do was care for him even more diligently. But now, his desperation reignited.

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We need a trainer.

No matter how much the jockeys tried, there was a limit to how well they could take care of the horses. Without a trainer, the horses would only get weaker.

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Ijin bit his lip hard.

***

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After his brief free time, Ijin headed straight to the office where Kim Jaeman worked.

When he stepped inside, Kim Jaeman was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was only Kwon Hyeongdo, sitting leisurely, phone pressed to his ear.

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As soon as he noticed Ijin burst through the door, his sharp gaze locked onto him. Then, with an amused smile, he raised a finger to his lips—Shh.