SW | Chapter 16

“You’re answering late.”

“I’m at the courthouse.”

“Ah, that. Haegyeon was really concerned about it. Did you win the bid?”

“Yes. I’m in the middle of work, so don’t call me whenever you feel like it. It’s not like it’s urgent.”

“Haegyeon reports to me regularly too. You’ll get used to it.”

Guk Jiho realized that calling Baek Haegyeon “Haegyeon-ah” like he was some pet dog was a way to belittle him as well. Even without that, the gap in their ranks was already as vast as the sky and the ground. Complaining like this was something he could never have dreamed of doing under normal circumstances.

“Ma’am. If you’re going to clean my house, you’ll have to adjust to my schedule. I find frequent contact like this very annoying.”

Guk Jiho replied indifferently.

The other day, he had a troubling conversation with Director Jang. It was the day he had returned from Russia to Korea, right after he had just reported that he had passed the interview.

Director Jang had immediately given him a burdensome order.

‘Over the past eight years, Baek Haegyeon has embezzled over 5 billion won from personal funds. Start by looking into that.’

‘What? I just went undercover.’

‘I didn’t tell you to bring it back right now. But the time will come when you’ll have access to financial records, so keep that in mind!’

Just infiltrating the organization had been a big decision, and now he was being asked to also monitor Baek Haegyeon, his project supervisor and superior. It was neither reasonable nor justifiable.

If Baek Haegyeon hadn’t tapped him on the shoulder as he stepped out of the bathroom in just a robe, Guk Jiho might have exploded, protesting how they could dump such a task on him.

“Ah, Boss.”

He uttered that single word like an exclamation, signaling to Director Jang that Baek Haegyeon was nearby. Despite this, Director Jang left him with a meaningful remark.

“Remember, it’s still not clear how your predecessors were killed.”

If that was the case, shouldn’t he be even more cautious? Instead of urging caution, it felt like he was being told to jump into the fire with a bundle of sticks on his back. That day, Guk Jiho had hurriedly ended the call.

“Has your temper gotten the better of you? How much have you looked into what I asked?”

Yes. Director Jang’s clear voice echoed in his ears. Her vocal cords were in top shape.

He felt the same way as he had the other day.

I almost died a few days ago. Are you trying to welcome another corpse? You keep suspecting Baek Haegyeon in the deaths of my predecessors, but can you really absolve yourself of responsibility, Director?

If he had been a little more daring, he would have said that.

“I haven’t been in a position to look into anything yet.”

Like a rough stone smoothed by the waves, Guk Jiho had matured a bit and ended the call there.

He was in the middle of loosening the suffocating knot of his tie when a swarm of men in black suits, like a flock of crows, burst out of the courthouse’s glass doors. The gazes of people smoking cigarettes or drinking coffee while waiting for the auction results immediately turned toward them.

A group of burly men dressed similarly, clearly part of the same organization, naturally exuded an intimidating presence. Guk Jiho knew this well, having worn uniforms and moved in groups in both the special forces and the police tactical unit.

Back then, they were told, ‘Don’t make eye contact with civilians.’ He had thought it was an internal policy to avoid conflicts, but one day, when a fellow officer asked the captain why they shouldn’t make eye contact with civilians, the captain laughed heartily and replied.

“Civilians get scared. If a group of guys in black suits, heavily armed, with fierce looks in their eyes, glare at them, wouldn’t that be terrifying? Huh? Guk Jiho, answer me.”

“It would be terrifying. But why are you singling me out, sir?”

“Your eyes are the biggest problem, kid.”

Gangsters, on the other hand, seemed to be trained differently. They walked around as if they were deliberately trying to catch the attention of civilians on the street.

At the head of the threatening group was Ji Sangcheol. They say that if dogs stare directly at each other, it’s a threat. Gangsters had something animalistic about them. Even as they swaggered, their eyes remained fixed and unshaken as if they were locked onto a target. They were clearly looking for trouble.

“Aigo. What a surprise to see your busy face here again. You left in such a hurry, I thought you were off to jerk off.”

As expected, the guy with snake tattoos on his scalp and near his ears started talking. Ji Sangcheol pretended to be polite to Guk Jiho in front of Baek Haegyeon. But as soon as Baek Haegyeon was gone, he didn’t hide his hostility. That was the cunning part. In the gangster world, being strong with the weak and weak with the strong wasn’t a flaw.

However, appearing to cling to strong power puts you at a disadvantage. It made Guk Jiho look like he was being shielded by Baek Haegyeon.

“…”

A foul smell wafted from his mouth. It was a mix of coffee and cigarette stench.

“Or were you off to beat someone else’s meat?”

Ji Sangcheol rolled his tongue in his mouth. His deliberately slurred speech made the guys behind him laugh loudly. “Khaak, ptoo!” The sound of spitting phlegm was deliberately loud, as if he had to make sure it was heard.

“…”

“Oh, don’t you know? That pretty face of yours is a perfect match for the boss’s taste.”

Thinking Guk Jiho was flustered, Ji Sangcheol lowered his voice and teased as if sharing a secret. Guk Jiho momentarily frowned deeply and then slowly relaxed. Under the heavy late summer or early autumn sky, long shadows shaped like eyelashes fell across the man’s eyes. His straight, downward-facing eyelashes added to his delicate appearance.

“Sangcheol.”

“…”

A vein like an earthworm bulged on Ji Sangcheol’s temple at the casual use of informal speech. His short hair made the beads of sweat on his scalp clearly visible.

Guk Jiho slowly approached Ji Sangcheol. Ji Sangcheol jutted out his chin defiantly. But a faint unease could be seen in his fleeting glances.

“Your mouth stinks.”

“What? Ha, this soft little bastard…”

Ji Sangcheol immediately cursed.

“Brush your teeth properly. Or you’ll get punched.”

My irritation level is still high. The atmosphere instantly became tense. There were over a dozen gangsters watching them from behind. They all wore solemn expressions, but their eyes rolled around. It was as if they were unable to hide their base curiosity about how this conflict would resolve.

Ji Sangcheol’s face turned red and purple as he leaned in closer. Guk Jiho calmly looked down at him,

and put his hands in his pockets.

“Pretty boy. Do you think life is a joke? A bastard with no roots, rolling around with no pedigree.”

The lower-ranked man daringly poked Guk Jiho’s shoulder with his index finger.

Ah. Right. Gangsters cared a lot about lineage. Guk Jiho quickly reviewed the pedigree he had memorized.

‘At eighteen, I first joined the Hanjung Association in Yongsan, Seoul, and after turning adult, I volunteered for the special forces. After being discharged, I spent two years in ‘school¹‘ instead of becoming an action leader. When that action leader died, I couldn’t follow the ‘line²‘ and transferred to the Dohun faction in Pyeongtaek. There, I rose to action leader, then was scouted by the Rich faction in Busan, where I worked in what gangsters call maritime trade and police call smuggling. I spent two years in the Macau branch of Rich, learning the casino business, where I met Baek Haegyeon and formed a connection. After making some money through gambling, I returned to Korea, cleaned up, and ran a bar for about three months before being scouted by Baek Haegyeon’s Hwando.’

It was the pedigree Baek Haegyeon and Director Jang had instructed him to memorize.

Just as gangsters referred to each other as ‘family,’ the ‘pedigree’ was a chronological record of where one started and where they moved. If someone moved between multiple organizations, they were called a ‘journeyman,’ while someone who stayed loyal to one organization was a ‘one-club man.’

Guk Jiho’s hastily constructed pedigree was of the journeyman variety. They had carefully selected a few organizations under police supervision, changed locations frequently to make verification difficult, and mixed in his actual special forces history. In any case, if they brought up roots, he had a ready-made story to answer.

“I didn’t crawl up here just because of my face. The boss must have kept quiet about a lot, huh? When I was eighteen…”

Guk Jiho was about to start his ambitious opening.

“Welcome back, hyungnim!”

The gangsters bowed deeply, their spines almost breaking, greeting him loudly. They looked like freshmen gathered before a senior in a sports team, all disciplined and tense.

Why do they act like this only when Baek Haegyeon shows up?

It didn’t seem like he was particularly strict with them. Feeling puzzled, Guk Jiho also bowed his head. If only he had shown up five minutes later, the timing would have been terrible.