BAI Ch 8

After Shin Haebeom left, Gi Woohee said, “Hit the floor.”

“Yes, sir!”

Seong Jaegyeong slammed his forehead against the floor. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back. Gi Woohee unbuckled his belt and wrapped it around his hand. Jin Chiwoo, sprawled half-dead on the sofa like a fever patient, pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and groaned, “Oh god, oh god.”

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“Sharing a pot of rice with the bastard who sent our Valkyrie to hell… Oh god, the world’s gone mad.”

Gi Woohee’s icy voice pierced Seong Jaegyeong’s back. “People make mistakes.”

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“Yes, sir.”

“But a soldier shouldn’t make mistakes in front of his superior.”

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“Yes, sir!”

The dark brown leather belt sliced through the air, landing squarely on Seong Jaegyeong’s back.

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The first thing Seong Jaegyeong noticed after joining the <Red Tiger> unit was that the three superiors all smoked different brands of cigarettes. And if he had to choose the best person to share a smoke with, it would be Jin Chiwoo. Jin Chiwoo hated the smell of cheap cigarettes, and if a situation arose where he had to smoke in the same space as his subordinates, he would readily share his expensive cigarettes.

The Disciplinary Training Unit’s parking lot had been temporarily closed since the terrorist incident. The underground parking lot, normally reserved for officers, had been temporarily opened to everyone, but the unit members, accustomed to the spacious parking lot, couldn’t hide their discomfort.

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Jin Chiwoo and Seong Jaegyeong stared at the yellow tape fluttering in the wind.

“Straighten your shoulders, kid. Don’t get so down about it.”

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“Yes, sir…”

“Gi Woohee has mellowed out a lot. He’s not someone who would usually let things slide if they affect him. He must care about you?”

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“I don’t know, sir.”

Jin Chiwoo stared at Seong Jaegyeong, then blurted out, “Do you know the origin of the Disciplinary Unit?”

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“Isn’t it the Central Military Police?”

“Five out of ten. Ah, no need to make that face. It’s natural for you guys not to know.”

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There were no records of Paohui. At the launch of the Disciplinary Training Unit, all related data had been destroyed at Shin Haebeom’s insistence. This was the result of the government’s confidentiality clause intersecting with the desire of the unit members to have their identities erased.

Cannon fodder. As the derogatory nickname suggests, they were the unofficial trash can of the Military Police.

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As Jin Chiwoo recalled, Paohui had never once reached its full capacity of thirty members. Every time they returned from a mission, the unit would be riddled with casualties and injuries, overflowing with vacancies. This was due to being drafted for all sorts of missions without clear guidelines, and being responsible for all the dirty work and chores within the unit.

At the time, the platoon leader of Paohui was Captain Choi Geumho, a man widely rumored to have been sidelined for backing the wrong horse. It was a time when soldiers belonging to the Gwak Hyeonwoo faction were either executed, discharged, or demoted. Choi openly declared that he wasn’t someone who should be leading a group of meat shields. He was too busy trying to rejoin the elite ranks by sucking up to the higher-ups to care about how his platoon was run.

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With leadership like that, it was no surprise that the lower ranks were a mess. The fact that they resembled a proper military unit at all was entirely thanks to Shin Haebeom. He did his best to lead the unit, coaxing and cajoling the problem soldiers who had been shuffled from unit to unit before landing in this trash can, along with those from disadvantaged backgrounds who had no chance of advancement from the start.

Until then, Jin Chiwoo hadn’t grasped Shin Haebeom’s intentions in recommending him for enlistment. His friend’s vow to let him live like his father sounded as empty as an alcoholic homeless man boasting about his glory days.

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It was around that time that Gi Woohee joined. He was a former death row inmate, no less. He was the very subject of sensational news articles, having killed his biological mother and her acquaintance and disguised it as a gas explosion accident. Jin Chiwoo prayed that the psychopath wouldn’t see his platoon members as lab rats.

And on the first day of his arrival, Shin Haebeom shut Gi Woohee up by hitting him with the butt of his rifle when Gi Woohee sarcastically remarked that his treatment was worse than on death row.

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“It’s fucking hilarious when I think about it. That it all started because of a blanket.”

“A blanket, sir?”

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“Yeah. He said it smelled or something. He had some backing, so he was pretty arrogant from the start.”

Jin Chiwoo mumbled, then shut his mouth. He seemed to think he had revealed more information than necessary. Fortunately, Seong Jaegyeong was a tactful adjutant.

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“What was this Captain Choi Geumho like, specifically?”

“Complete and utter nuclear waste. I’m going to beat him to death when I go to hell.”

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Jin Chiwoo said he wasn’t defending Shin Haebeom out of personal feelings. But looking up at the sky, he said he had definitely learned something from that incident.

“Politics is the realm of the wicked.”

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Back when Choi Geumho was busy sucking up to the higher-ups, his constant companion and driver was Shin Haebeom.

Choi favored Shin Haebeom. Among the unreliable platoon members, Shin Haebeom was the only one who met his expectations, and there was no reason to distance himself from someone who acted like his tongue. He solidified his relationship with his favored subordinate by ratting out other platoon members who disparaged Shin Haebeom’s background to their superiors.

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Jin Chiwoo remembered the two of them drinking together as brothers. But in the end, their relationship ended in disaster.

“What do you think?”

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Seong Jaegyeong hesitated. Shin Haebeom’s smooth profile, devoid of any unnecessary features, flashed through his mind. In truth, there was only one answer Seong Jaegyeong could give.

“I believe… whatever happened, whatever the reason, Captain’s choice was right.”

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In Seong Jaegyeong’s eyes, Shin Haebeom was a near-perfect creation. The sleek lines of his face revealed by his close-cropped hair, his long, strong neck, even the angle from looking up at him was perfect. And then there was the aristocratic air about him.

“Is that so?” A smile, somewhere between a sneer and self-deprecation, played on Jin Chiwoo’s lips. “Well, what does it matter now?”

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“You’re right. What matters is now.”

Emboldened, Seong Jaegyeong asked, “Has the Captain changed much compared to before?”

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“Well. His personality? Yeah. He’s changed a lot.”

Jin Chiwoo chuckled. “He’s more obsessed with weird and strange things. Before, he didn’t have a hobby of collecting chipped plates… Hey. What’s that?”

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Seong Jaegyeong turned his head in the direction Jin Chiwoo was pointing. A black Cadillac was entering the parking lot, despite the clear “No Entry” sign.

“What’s…?”

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Seong Jaegyeong stood up awkwardly. He could see a guard approaching. Jin Chiwoo, cigarette dangling from his lips, muttered, “That piece of junk looks familiar.”

Among the numerous crimes, some particularly incite public anger. Crimes clearly targeting the vulnerable are like that. Acts of power abuse by men against women, the young against the elderly, seniors against juniors, or the rich against the poor have a stark and blatant distinction between good and evil.

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In that sense, Ha Seongrok was clever. <White Lion> occupied the honorable underdog position of a revolutionary army fighting against a dictatorial regime.

Once an impression is formed, it’s hard to change. The public didn’t believe that <White Lion> funded its operations through club management, drug sales, and other illegal gambling. They considered it a fabrication by the current government to discredit the revolutionary group. There was also a sense of “So what?” regarding the idea that some degree of injustice was inevitable for the greater good.

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Shin Haebeom didn’t think the public was foolish. They were exhausted and desperately needed someone to believe in.

Kwon Ilhyuk, having ousted the Republican Party and seized power, squeezed his citizens with all sorts of regulations and hurdles. The middle class in this country had long since collapsed. The line between the upper and lower classes was distinct, and the ladder of upward mobility had disappeared.

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Kwon Ilhyuk’s iron-fisted rule didn’t allow for self-made success. Talented individuals were denied opportunities due to their background, and those who worked diligently were burdened with debt, forcing them to struggle day by day. So much so that they couldn’t think about anything beyond their immediate problems.

Having weathered that storm, Ha Seongrok had forgotten his original purpose… That was Shin Haebeom’s conclusion today.

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“Jung Ryujin is the best way to gain public support when <Red Tiger> comes to the surface.”

Gi Woohee countered, “The risk is too high. Kwon Joohyeok will be visiting the Disciplinary Unit soon. He calls it a comfort visit, but his real purpose is to inspect the site before the July entrance ceremony.”

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“Let’s turn this crisis into an opportunity.”

Shin Haebeom smiled faintly.

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“Why do you think Ha Seongrok sought out Jung Ryujin? He needs Ryu Yeonbi’s halo. For the justification of reform. If he brought Jung Ryujin in, Gwak Hyeonwoo would be a buy-one-get-one-free deal. I can even guess why Ha Seongrok approached Jung Ryujin first.”

Gi Woohee nodded. “Because he’s relatively easier to handle. And he’s probably much more desperate than Gwak Hyeonwoo…”

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Young, with no one to turn to, burdened with a mountain of debt he could never repay in his lifetime, even if he worked himself to death. The fact that he had even been assaulted by his peers said it all.

Just then, the data promised by the National Bank arrived. Shin Haebeom turned the monitor towards Gi Woohee. Jung Ryujin’s credit history was clean.

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“Who do you think paid it off?”

“That old man’s skills are impressive.”

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“The guy who was Yoo Sung Food’s son-in-law. He must have raked in quite a bit of money in China.”

“He must have poured a considerable amount into rebel activities… Did he strike gold or something?”

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“He received a generous initial settlement. Not his own money, though.”

Shin Haebeom gritted his teeth. Gi Woohee, with his arms crossed, looked worried.

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“Do you think Kwon Sehyuk will take a liking to Jung Ryujin?”

“We have to make him.”

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“What position are you thinking of giving Jung Ryujin?”

Just as Shin Haebeom was about to answer, the phone rang. Gi Woohee’s expression hardened as he picked up the receiver.

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“Captain, we have a visitor.” Gi Woohee’s voice was heavy. “Ha Shinsung has requested to see Jung Ryujin.”

Tall with broad shoulders, dressed in a Hugo Boss suit with his hair slicked back with not a single strand out of place, and a healthy tan. Ha Shinsung stood boldly in the lobby of the Disciplinary Training Unit’s first floor.

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The trained unit members didn’t react outwardly, but they couldn’t completely hide a subtle ripple of excitement. The two receptionists, forgetting their manners, stared openly at Ha Shinsung’s face. Gi Woohee was overcome with the urge to smack them upside the head. Go get his autograph while you’re at it.

Gi Woohee asked Seong Jaegyeong, “The visitor?”

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“He’s waiting. He’s filed a visitation request and completed the physical examination.”

“Major, stay here. I’ll handle this personally.”

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“But Captain…”

“Stay here.”

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The soles of his boots echoed loudly against the marble floor. Shin Haebeom strode towards Ha Shinsung, who was sitting on a chair in the central lobby.

Ha Shinsung sprang to his feet as soon as he saw Shin Haebeom, as if he wouldn’t allow even a single second of being looked down upon.

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Ha Shinsung spoke first. “It’s been a while.”

“Fancy meeting you here.”

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They were close enough to touch. It wouldn’t be strange if they pulled out their guns and aimed them at each other’s foreheads right then and there. Gi Woohee marveled inwardly. A clash of the next-generation bosses following Kwon Joohyeok and Ha Seongrok. I can’t believe I get to witness this live.

“You came to see Jung Ryujin?”

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“And you came out instead.”

“I’m in charge of him, unfortunately.”

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Ha Shinsung’s thick eyebrows twitched. Shin Haebeom extended his right hand, but Ha Shinsung didn’t move.

Shin Haebeom withdrew his hand and smiled faintly. “Don’t look at me like that. Jung Ryujin and I are quite close.”

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“I didn’t know you were so shallow.”

“Jung Ryujin is pretty. I like pretty things.”

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“I’m sure Jin Chiwoo would love to hear that.”

Shin Haebeom’s cheek twitched. “He doesn’t know shit like you.”

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Ha Shinsung, his hands tucked into the pockets of his impeccably pressed suit, stood firm. “Talking big while reading Kwon Joohyeok’s script.”

“There are a lot of eyes watching. Let’s be polite. This isn’t some local police station.”

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The atmosphere between the two wasn’t bad. At least, that’s how it appeared from a distance. Shin Haebeom’s face maintained a constant smile, and Ha Shinsung’s voice was calm. But if you got a little closer, you could tell. They were itching to tear each other’s throats out. The reason they couldn’t rashly attack was probably because they were still chained, the leashes held by their respective bosses.

Seong Jaegyeong was bewildered by the fact that Shin Haebeom and Ha Shinsung looked like brothers. Gi Woohee nudged him in the ribs. “Eyes down.”

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“Sorry. I was just surprised.”

“What, did you expect them to start shooting each other on sight?”

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Shin Haebeom went to the reception desk. He snatched the visitation request form Ha Shinsung had just filled out and shoved it into his pants pocket.

“Let’s go to the 12th floor.”

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He brought out the Royal Copenhagen he had been saving. Recognizing the luxurious teacups, with their white bodies embroidered with blue flowers, Ha Shinsung remarked, “Nice set. Part of your collection?”

“I’ve been collecting them bit by bit. Brings back memories.”

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“You brought me all the way up here to show off?”

Ha Shinsung looked around. The top floor of the Disciplinary Training Unit’s 12-story building had never been revealed to the public. Even insiders claimed ignorance, as access to different floors was determined by the cards held by personnel.

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Ha Shinsung recalled his previous encounter with Shin Haebeom. While he was alone, collecting Gwak Hyeonwoo’s body, Shin Haebeom had maintained strict security. He had stood there, expressionless, smoking a cigarette, the very image of a gatekeeper. And now this guy was grinning, offering him hospitality with fine china? Suspicious. So excessively suspicious that it felt unworthy of suspicion.

“I don’t think we’re on tea-and-chat terms.”

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“Strained relationships are meant to be mended.”

“Then let me ask you something I’ve always wondered. Shin Haebeom, how does it feel to be Kwon Joohyeok’s puppet?”

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The smile vanished from Shin Haebeom’s face. “That’s not a question. That’s bullshit meant to get under my skin.”

A teacup was placed in front of Ha Shinsung. Looking down at the table, his face hardened. The Royal Copenhagen Half Lace cup contained neither coffee nor tea, but lukewarm tap water.

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“You offer hospitality halfway.”

“Were you even planning to drink it?”

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Ha Shinsung looked at Shin Haebeom’s smiling face. There was no reason to feel particularly offended. He knew what it was like to grow up without the protection of an adult, how poverty and loneliness shaped a person. He also knew that his father felt guilty towards the two men here.

Almost twenty years. It was enough time for a child who had lost everything to Kwon’s tyranny to become a fervent worshipper of power.

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Ha Shinsung took out a cigarette. He searched his pockets but couldn’t find a lighter. He had forgotten it had been confiscated during the body search. As he clicked his tongue and held the cigarette, a gold Dupont lighter appeared before him.

The two men blew smoke into each other’s faces.

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“You should have…” Ha Shinsung said, “You should have become a real actor. Living your whole life acting out someone else’s would have been better for you.”

“Then I would have ended up like Ryu Yeonbi. Tangled up with Gwak Hyeonwoo.”

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“Don’t overinterpret.”

“Why? It’s a possibility.”

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Ha Shinsung leaned back against the black leather sofa. The feeling of being enveloped was exquisite. Grinding out his cigarette in the ashtray without a second thought, Shin Haebeom said, “What do you want to achieve with this visit?”

“Just wanted to see his face.”

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“How romantic of you.”

Ha Shinsung wasn’t so naive as to miss the sarcasm. Still, this was a time to be humble. He calmly retorted, “I came knowing that visits were allowed.”

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“Who told you that?”

“As far as I know, the Disciplinary Unit’s rules…”

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“Rules? Did you just say rules?”

A spark flickered on Shin Haebeom’s tongue. He had been wanting to say these words for a long time.

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“I make the rules here.”

He slammed his boot against the table, making it wobble. The water spilled from the teacup, staining Ha Shinsung’s Hugo Boss suit.

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“My thoughts, my words, are law.”

Shin Haebeom leaned forward, his hands clasped, and looked up at the frozen Ha Shinsung. Like a cobra emerging from its burrow after a long winter hibernation.

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“If I say it is, it is. If I say it isn’t, it isn’t.”

“I’m looking for a lawyer. I have something to discuss regarding that.”

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“Oh, really? What kind of lunatic would defend Jung Ryujin? They must want to disappear without a trace but can’t find a suitable method.”

Ha Shinsung’s ring finger twitched as he gripped his knee. Shin Haebeom said coldly, “Caught red-handed, clear motive, no accomplices. I guarantee you, it’s a death sentence in the first trial. Let me tell you, appealing against the Disciplinary Unit is pointless.”

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“…….”

“Wasn’t he valuable? To be used as a disposable pawn.”

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“He was close to Gwak Hyeonwoo. That’s why… he couldn’t stand it.”

“Is that supposed to be an excuse?” Shin Haebeom’s icy gaze questioned. “<White Lion> couldn’t even persuade a twenty-one-year-old kid?”

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“There are more things beyond common sense than you think.”

With that, Ha Shinsung’s lips were sealed shut. Shin Haebeom couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something. The problem was that he would never reveal it. Oh, this damn gangster. If you’re out of options, just die…

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“Look. Jung Ryujin is a terrorist. A big shot who attempted to assassinate the deputy commander of the Disciplinary Unit. He’s not someone you can easily meet with just a piece of paper like this.”

Shin Haebeom pulled the crumpled application form from his pocket and threw it at Ha Shinsung’s chest. “I’ll acknowledge the trouble you took to come all the way here. Now get out before I throw you in the interrogation room.”

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“You know you have no grounds to arrest me.”

“Grounds? I can make those up after I lock you up. I have a decent torturer among my men.”

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“Can you handle the aftermath? Don’t you have to worry about Yu Mihyun?”

Shin Haebeom burst out laughing. “The enemy of my enemy isn’t my friend. It’s another enemy, you idiot.”

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Ha Shinsung’s face crumpled in disgust. A sense of victory surged through Shin Haebeom. He prepared the final blow to knock Ha Shinsung down. As he opened his mouth, the image of Jung Ryujin’s bare back flashing through his mind, his opponent struck first.

“Why did you stay here?”

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“What?”

“You should have left the country. Both you and Jin Chiwoo. Why the hell did you stay here? I don’t understand. You weren’t so young that you wouldn’t know that your damned background would ruin your life no matter what you did.”

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“Who the hell are you talking to like that?!”

Jin Chiwoo’s hand, raised to knock, froze in mid-air. Instead of turning the doorknob, he ordered all the riot team members, positioned at regular intervals from the elevator, to withdraw.

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It was unusual for Shin Haebeom to raise his voice. Ha Shinsung was one of the few who could trigger him, pushing him back to being that pitiful, powerless teenager who had nothing and could do nothing.

Shin Haebeom roared, “Why didn’t I leave the country?!”

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He had tried. He had gone to the airport with the plane ticket and passport his aunt had procured. The deceased Chairman Ha Jinjoo had a classmate who worked as a flight attendant. He had agreed to risk his life to get Samryong’s children on board.

As a precaution, the group had split into two teams. Ha Seongrok and Ha Shinsung had left first. Shin Haebeom vividly remembered that there had been about five steps between the Yoo Sung Food family and his group.

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The one who was caught was Jin Chiwoo’s mother. Shin Haebeom had just stared blankly at his friend’s back as he rushed towards the soldiers. He truly couldn’t do anything. Even when a soldier in uniform approached him and asked to see his passport, even when he was told that he couldn’t leave the country with this and that he had to come with them, he just watched as the plane carrying Ha Seongrok, Ha Shinsung, and his father soared across the sky.

“I’m not Shin Haejoon.”

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That pathetic kid was dead. And he would never return. He would make sure Jung Ryujin, currently stuck in the basement interrogation room, met the same fate.

The corners of Shin Haebeom’s lips curled up. “You want to see Jung Ryujin?”

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Ha Shinsung nodded.

“Wait downstairs.”

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Jin Chiwoo scrutinized Shin Haebeom’s face as he emerged from the room. His hardened expression was like a mask. His eyes were cold, but only his mouth was smiling.

“Chiwoo,” Shin Haebeom said, “Clear out the shower room. I’m bringing Jung Ryujin up.”

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The metal door clanged loudly. A sarcastic voice shot out. “I told you to think it over, and you’re sprawled out asleep. Do you think this is your bedroom?”

Ryujin raised his head. He glared at Shin Haebeom, who was standing with his arms crossed.

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“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Wipe the drool off your face before you talk.”

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“That’s because of the medication…”

“You stink. Haven’t you been to the bathroom even once?”

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“I…I called for someone! But no one came!”

Ryujin clamped his mouth shut. Thinking about it, there was no point in making excuses. If it weren’t for Shin Haebeom, he wouldn’t be in this state in the first place. Did they think they could just stick an IV in a living corpse and call it a day? Who was it that had neglected him, not giving him a single meal or a drop of water? He had yelled so much to be allowed to use the bathroom.

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“You’re disgusting.”

Ryujin shouted, “Then get out!”

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“Have you thought about it?”

“Thought about what?”

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He asked reflexively, then immediately regretted it. Ryujin squeezed his eyes shut. He felt like Shin Haebeom’s baton would strike his temple at any moment.

He hadn’t met just one or two violent people in his life, but Shin Haebeom was the worst of them. He didn’t hesitate to resort to violence. It was the confidence that stemmed from the belief that his actions were justified.

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“If you say you don’t know, I’ll rip your mouth open.”

“Stop saying things like that!”

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“You seem to have forgotten all the curses you hurled at me.”

“You deserve to be cursed at.”

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Shin Haebeom clenched his fists in his pockets. You’ll never know how much patience I’m exercising right now, Jung Ryujin.

“Aren’t you being too prickly? Between us.”

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Ryujin scoffed. “What’s between us?”

“We’re partners in a masterpiece for the ages.”

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Shin Haebeom’s finger pointed at the ceiling. Ryujin’s eyes darted around, finding the CCTV camera. “D-don’t joke around.”

“I’m serious. And we’re about to film the sequel.”

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Shin Haebeom didn’t give Ryujin a chance to respond. He kicked the desk aside and lunged at Ryujin, ripping out the IV line from his thin arm. A scream tore from Ryujin’s throat at the rough treatment.

“Aagh!”

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Ryujin was pushed back against the wall, still in his wheelchair. The entire room shook with a bang.

When he managed to open his eyes, wincing, Shin Haebeom’s grinning face was right in front of him. He looked like a ghost.

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“You crazy bastard! What the hell are you doing?!”

“Audiences these days have sophisticated tastes.”

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Ryujin frowned. “What?”

“They’re tired of the same old rape and prison scenes, just mindless thrusting and groaning. They want something new.”

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“What the hell are you talking about?! Get your disgusting face away from me!”

An unfamiliar voice cut in. “First time I’ve heard anyone call Shin Haebeom’s face disgusting.”

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Ryujin, fighting the pain in the back of his head, looked up. He was dizzy. Over Shin Haebeom’s shoulder, he could see the silhouette of a man dressed in the same uniform as Shin Haebeom. He couldn’t make out the man’s face clearly. His vision was blurry, and the man had his cap pulled down low, almost covering his eyes.

“Shit, you scared me.”

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“Don’t act surprised, asshole.”

“What’s wrong with knocking?”

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“I figured you wouldn’t let me in.”

Ryujin frowned. His wavering vision slowly cleared. Finally, he was certain. The man was Jin Chiwoo. That voice, that tone, the dimple that appeared on only one cheek when he smiled…

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“Jin Chiwoo!”

Forgetting he was tied up, he lunged forward. Predictably, he lost his balance and tumbled to the floor. Jin Chiwoo laughed heartily, looking down at Ryujin sprawled on the floor with his wheelchair.

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“What’s he doing?”

Shin Haebeom chuckled. “Cut him some slack. He’s a passionate guy.”

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“Look at him glaring. Did he lose his manners to a stray dog?”

“He’s at a rebellious age. Us older guys need to be understanding.”

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Shin Haebeom shrugged. He genuinely understood Ryujin. He was only twenty-one. The age where, despite seeing countless extras blinded by revenge and meeting a dog’s death in movies, dramas, and novels, he still believed he would be the protagonist who successfully achieved his vengeance.

“Is the shower room ready?”

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“Ready. But are you really going to do it yourself?”

“Of course. We have a distinguished guest waiting.”

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A distinguished guest? Ryujin couldn’t understand their conversation.

“Who is it?”

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Jin Chiwoo looked back and forth between Shin Haebeom, arms crossed, and Ryujin, growling on the floor. “You haven’t told him yet?”

“I was going to surprise him, but you ruined it.”

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“Speak clearly! Why are you two muttering to yourselves like idiots?!”

“…….”

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“Why aren’t you saying anything?! Tell me! Tell me who came to see me…!”

Shin Haebeom’s boot swung in a semi-circle. “Shut up.”

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Jin Chiwoo sighed deeply. Jung Ryujin was the type who truly went out of his way to earn a beating.

Shin Haebeom pulled the overturned wheelchair upright. “Even a chicken has a better learning ability than you.”

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He gagged Ryujin, who was thrashing around like a wild dog. He had to secure Ryujin’s limbs and even his torso tightly to the back of the wheelchair before he could finally leave the interrogation room.

Shin Haebeom was in a good mood. He hummed a tune as he pushed the wheelchair. Everyone they encountered in the hallway saluted Shin Haebeom loudly. Each time, Ryujin flinched.

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When Shin Haebeom finally stopped, Ryujin felt his heart drop to his stomach.

“We’re here.”

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Shin Haebeom pointed to a sign that read “Shower Room.” “The set Chiwoo prepared for us.”

Ryujin tugged at his hands, which were tied to the wheelchair. Of course, they didn’t budge. Shin Haebeom’s laughter sent shivers down his spine. All sorts of thoughts flashed through his mind. They say murderers always use bathrooms to dispose of bodies because the blood washes away easily and it’s easy to clean.

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Although it was called a shower room, it was the size of a decent public bathhouse. There were lockers for clothes and belongings. One entire wall was a mirror. Shin Haebeom turned Ryujin’s wheelchair towards the mirror.

“Wait here.”

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Ryujin glared at Shin Haebeom’s reflection in the mirror. He was undressing. The heavy-looking badges hanging from his uniform jacket reflected the fluorescent lights, dazzling Ryujin. His crisp white shirt, clinging to his toned and flexible body, was wrinkle-free and clean, as if it had just been dry-cleaned.

Untying his black tie, emblazoned with the golden dragon, the symbol of the Kwon royal family, Shin Haebeom said, “You’re watching me, right?”

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Ryujin lowered his eyes. He never thought he’d be grateful for the gag.

“It’s okay, take a look.”

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“…….”

“I have no shame. I’ve even posed shirtless for a calendar, what’s the big deal?”

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Ryujin knew about that. It was a limited edition released to commemorate the anniversary of the Disciplinary Training Unit’s founding. He remembered reading news about how complaints had flooded in from people who had camped out since the day before the sale but couldn’t get their hands on one. He had scoffed at the news that the calendar, containing autographed photos of the officers, was being traded on the black market for ten times its original price.

“You’re not sleeping, are you?”

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Shin Haebeom, now half-naked, approached. He untied the knots binding Ryujin, one by one. When one ankle was freed, Ryujin tried to kick Shin Haebeom in the jaw, but his attempt was thwarted by a hand that gripped his ankle like a hook.

Holding Ryujin’s ankle, Shin Haebeom said, “Want your tendons severed?”

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“…….”

“Stand up.”

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After removing the gag, Shin Haebeom ordered him to take off his clothes.

“No.”

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He was immediately slapped across the face. Ryujin stumbled, losing his balance. Shin Haebeom slapped him back and forth across the face, then grabbed his hair and shoved him against the mirror. His nose started bleeding instantly.

“Take them off.”

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His fingers fumbled with the buttons. Drops of dark red blood dripped onto his prison uniform. Ryujin sobbed as he undressed. Watching him, Shin Haebeom sighed deeply.

“Just listen.”

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Shin Haebeom returned with a wad of tissues and wiped the blood from Ryujin’s nose. His touch was unexpectedly gentle. But that didn’t soften Ryujin’s heart.

“Let go of me!”

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“You complain even when I’m being nice.”

“Who asked you to be nice?!”

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“You have a beautiful physique.”

“What?!”

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Shin Haebeom grinned shamelessly.

“…!” Ryujin’s face flushed crimson. Shin Haebeom’s gaze was intense. He wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath his prison uniform.

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“Turn around.”

Ryujin lowered his head. He couldn’t look Shin Haebeom in the face. He stared at his own feet. The bluish veins pulsed beneath his skin. Shin Haebeom’s shadow fell over him.

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“…….”

Ryujin looked back and forth between his own bare feet and Shin Haebeom’s. They were large feet. He felt like he could be crushed like an empty can.

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A hand, as large as his feet, grabbed his arm.

“Ow!”

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“What are you spacing out for? Come on.”

White steam billowed from the large bathtub. Shin Haebeom rummaged through the toiletries on the shelf, looking for something. Ryujin absentmindedly dipped his hand into the bathtub, then quickly pulled it back with a yelp.

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“It’s too hot!”

Shin Haebeom ignored him. He was preoccupied with searching the shelves. Ryujin picked up a plastic scoop. What were the chances he could knock Shin Haebeom unconscious by hitting him on the back of the head? What were the chances he could escape from here?

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He gave up. The saying “Even if you enter a tiger’s den, you can survive if you keep your wits about you” only applied when there was only one tiger. Besides, in his current state…

Ryujin held the scoop and watched Shin Haebeom’s back as he stood in front of the shelves.

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The well-defined muscles rippled smoothly with his movements. Shin Haebeom had the typical build of a swimmer: broad shoulders and a narrow waist.

Ryujin hesitantly moved towards the wall. As he pulled a towel around himself, Shin Haebeom approached, holding a red container. He looked down at Ryujin, who was standing awkwardly.

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“What are you doing?”

“The water is too hot.”

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“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Shin Haebeom opened the red container and poured its contents into the bathtub. The pungent smell of ethanol filled the air.

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“What the hell are you doing?!”

“Get in.”

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“What?”

Shin Haebeom snatched the towel from Ryujin’s hand and pulled his arm, trying to drag him into the tub.

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“N-no! Let go! No! Let go! Stop it!”

“Say no one more time, and I’ll rip your mouth open to your ears.”

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Ryujin’s eyes were fixed on the boiling bathtub. It looked like a hellish cauldron. How could he possibly get in there?

“It’s too hot!”

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“It’s not.”

“I’ll get burned!”

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“This is what it takes to get clean. Stop being difficult and get in!”

“I said it’s hot!”

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Ryujin clung to the edge of the tub, resisting. During the struggle, hot water splashed onto Shin Haebeom’s uniform pants.

He raised his fist. “You stubborn little shit!”

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Shin Haebeom grabbed Ryujin from behind and dunked him headfirst into the bathtub.

“Gah!”

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He pressed his palm down on Ryujin’s head as he tried to surface. “I’m disinfecting you. Disinfecting. Don’t worry, you won’t die.”

“H-help me! Help me…!”

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“I told you, you won’t die.”

Shin Haebeom rested his chin on his hand and chuckled.

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He was an expert. Waterboarding was as familiar to him as eating three meals a day. Shin Haebeom grabbed Ryujin’s hair and shoved his head underwater, pulling him back up just before he drowned. He continued until Ryujin’s limbs went limp and his body went slack.

Shin Haebeom’s fingers were tangled with red hair.

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“Such a drama queen.”

Shin Haebeom squeezed shampoo into his palm. “What’s so hot about this? Stop being a baby…”

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A plastic scoop flew at his face. It was an unexpected counterattack.

The scoop smacked against Shin Haebeom’s forehead and clattered to the tiled floor. Ryujin, his entire body flushed red, yelled, “You son of a bitch! Die!”

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“You’ve got a lot of nerve.”

Shin Haebeom wrapped a wet towel around his hand. He kicked Ryujin in the chest, knocking him back down as he tried to crawl out of the tub. Water splashed everywhere.

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“Agh!”

“Get up.”

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“You son of a bitch!”

“Yeah, I’m a son of a bitch.” Shin Haebeom grabbed Ryujin’s flailing arm and pulled him out of the bathtub. He forced Ryujin to his feet, his knees buckling beneath him.

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“Get treated like a dog by a son of a bitch.”

The wet towel whistled through the air. Ryujin collapsed without a scream. The beating didn’t stop with one blow. Red welts appeared on Ryujin’s neck, shoulders, and back.

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Shin Haebeom threw the wet towel on the floor.

“Ugh…”

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“Stay still.”

Trapping Ryujin’s whimpering body between his legs, Shin Haebeom squeezed shampoo onto his head. Ryujin flinched at the rough handling.

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“Ow! Stop it!”

“Shut up.”

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“It hurts!”

“Is ‘no,’ ‘it hurts,’ all you can say?”

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“Son of a bitch… Fuck you. Asshole. Bastard!”

Shin Haebeom burst out laughing. “We’re both fatherless, aren’t we?”

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Ryujin sobbed. He ached all over. His shoulder, back, and knees throbbed from where he’d hit the tub. And his skin stung from the scalding water.

The ethanol had stung his eyes, nose, and ears, and even seeped into the sensitive skin between his legs. He could barely open his eyes. Ryujin limply surrendered to Shin Haebeom’s ministrations.

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“This is a pain in the ass for me too. But what can I do, you’re so filthy.”

Shin Haebeom cupped cool water in his hands and rinsed Ryujin’s eyes. “Feeling better?”

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“Son of a bitch…”

“Putting on a brave face while you’re sobbing.”

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Cold water poured from the showerhead. As the suds washed away, Shin Haebeom scrubbed Ryujin’s heated skin with a rough washcloth.

“Ow! It hurts!”

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“Stay still.”

“I said it hurts! Stop it!”

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“Even a seven-year-old has more patience than you, you skinny little thing.”

Shin Haebeom gritted his teeth and continued scrubbing, ignoring Ryujin’s screams and struggles. He wanted to erase every trace of poverty and loneliness clinging to this body.

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“Hey. Lie down over there.”

Shin Haebeom jerked his chin towards a waterproof mat. He slapped Ryujin, who was shaking his head and whimpering.

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“Ow!”

“Lie down.”

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“No…! Stop tormenting me! Why are you doing this to me?!”

Shin Haebeom sighed and grabbed Ryujin’s arm. He was dragged along with surprising ease. Why bother resisting if he was just going to give in like this?

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Shin Haebeom straddled Ryujin’s back as he lay on the mat.

“What the—!”

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“Stay still.”

Shin Haebeom’s knee pressed down between Ryujin’s buttocks.

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“Stop it!”

“You’re the one arching your back.”

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Ryujin gasped. Terror washed over him. He knew what was about to happen.

“Don’t.”

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“…….”

“Don’t do it! You crazy bastard!”

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Shin Haebeom laughed from behind him. Both his wrists were pinned to the mat.

“Ow!”

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Ryujin glared at Shin Haebeom’s hand holding his wrists down. They were long and straight. Elegant fingers, like a pianist’s. But the knuckles were prominent, and the tips of his nails were worn.

A wet tongue licked his earlobe.

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“Jung Ryujin.” Shin Haebeom’s bare chest, pressed against his back, was hard and damp with condensation. “They say a beauty is most beautiful after a shower. I never understood that. But looking at you now, I think I get it.”

Ryujin swallowed hard. This was Shin Haebeom. He knew that if Shin Haebeom wanted to, he could turn him into mush in ten seconds.

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“What do you think? Do you agree?”

Ryujin couldn’t answer. He felt like he was suffocating under Shin Haebeom’s weight. The blood had drained from his hands. His fingertips were almost purple.

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Nibbling on Ryujin’s earlobe, Shin Haebeom whispered, “What are you thinking about?”

“Your…watch. It’s nice.”

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“Oh, you like this?”

Shin Haebeom smiled. It was a gift from Kwon Joohyeok when he was appointed head of the Disciplinary Training Unit.

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“It’s expensive, right?”

“Something like that.”

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“That idiot…had one like this too. He’d have a fit if it got bumped… Are you like that too?”

Shin Haebeom knew who Ryujin meant by “idiot.” It was Ha Shinsung. The image of him in his Hugo Boss suit flashed through his mind, making his stomach churn.

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“Thinking about someone else right now?”

“Is that wrong?”

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“Yes.” Shin Haebeom’s lips twitched. “Who’s on top of you right now?”

“Ugh!”

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A powerful force pressed down on the back of his head. As he managed to turn his head slightly, Ryujin saw the cold glint of a Vacheron Constantin.

He had been forced to kiss Ha Shinsung once. It was the day the club closed. He was in a good mood after getting expensive drinks for free from the bar manager. He didn’t remember the name of the liquor. He only remembered the burning sensation in his throat and the overpowering scent of Ha Shinsung’s cologne as he suddenly lunged at him after Ryujin’s second drink.

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The bar manager whooped and cheered. The other staff members were no different. Ha Shinsung’s tongue, forcing its way into his mouth, was wet and disgusting. His resisting arms were pinned above his head, and his torso was pushed back.

Ryujin was laid out on the bar. A hot body pressed between his legs. Glasses tumbled to the floor and shattered, but Ha Shinsung didn’t care. His eyes were completely rolled back.

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Ha Shinsung’s hand reached inside his clothes. A large, rough palm caressed his chest. Ryujin shook his head and struggled. He thrashed his arms and legs and twisted his waist.

His oversized sneakers came off. Ha Shinsung’s hand fumbled with his belt buckle. Ryujin burst into tears. The others thought it was a joke. The team leader messing with the newbie.

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As everyone laughed, Ryujin bit down hard on Ha Shinsung’s lower lip.

He couldn’t do that now. The best he could do was bite his own lip, trying to stifle any whimpers.

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“Ha…ah.”

Ryujin trembled like a leaf. His body, supported by his elbows and knees, was precarious.

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“Relax.” Shin Haebeom lifted his collapsing waist. He pushed deeper. Ryujin gasped and slammed his forehead against the mat. Shin Haebeom patted his back. “Relax. It won’t go in if you’re tense.”

“Stop…stop.”

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“Relax your muscles and breathe slowly.”

“Sob. Sniff.”

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“Good. That’s it.”

Shin Haebeom leaned forward and moved his hips. The sound of wet flesh slapping against wet flesh echoed in the room.

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“Ah, ah, ah…!”

The slender nape of Ryujin’s neck trembled in front of him. He flicked his tongue out to lick it, and the fine hairs stood on end. Shin Haebeom could feel himself growing harder inside Ryujin. It was painfully hard. He wanted to escape this pain, this urgency, as quickly as possible. He grabbed Ryujin’s hips and pulled him closer as they kept slipping away.

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“Ah!”

Water splashed on the wet skin. The thrusts became more forceful. Blood-tinged semen leaked from the torn opening between Ryujin’s buttocks.

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“Ah, agh…!”

Ryujin thrashed his head.

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