BAI Ch 11
by mimiOne rotation with the target fixed in the center, then two rotations with it moving left and right. Shin Haebeom watched from behind as Ryujin shot. After firing the last bullet, Ryujin looked back.
“How was it?”
The results weren’t bad. Shin Haebeom was certain that someone in <White Lion> had recognized Ryujin’s dynamic vision. But it seemed they hadn’t thought to develop that ability and put it to good use.
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Shin Haebeom approached Ryujin. A spent cartridge casing lay near his boot.
“Not good.”
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“But it wasn’t that bad…!”
“Your posture is a mess.”
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Shin Haebeom grabbed Ryujin’s shoulders and waist.
“Eyes front.”
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“Don’t touch me there…!”
“Be quiet before I grope your ass.”
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Shin Haebeom was certain. Jung Ryujin had never received proper training. He was an amateur who imitated other people’s form by sight. The fact that his accuracy was good despite that was due to natural talent. However, no matter how high the accuracy, if the posture was a mess, he couldn’t be called a marksman.
There was a reason manuals existed. It might be comfortable in the short term, but firing with incorrect posture for a long time would inevitably lead to injury.
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Shin Haebeom tapped Ryujin’s knees, waist, and shoulders with the back of his hand.
“Stop swaying and stand firm. Spread your legs wider. Why are your shoulders slumped like that? Raise your arms higher!”
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Ryujin followed Shin Haebeom’s instructions. He differentiated between being groped and being touched to correct his posture.
“This is uncomfortable…”
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“Now do you realize how wrong your posture has been?”
Shin Haebeom told him that even if it was uncomfortable now, his accuracy would improve significantly in the long run.
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“Okay.”
“Who taught you that terrible form?”
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“No one really taught me. I was just interested, so…”
“You must’ve had a role model.”
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Ryujin hesitated before answering.
“The head of the terrorist cell.”
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“You two weren’t on good terms, I take it?”
“You investigated all that too? Impressive.”
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“I didn’t need to investigate. The fact that your basic shooting posture is a mess, and he didn’t correct it, means he either disliked you or was incredibly indifferent. It’s a reasonable assumption.”
Ryujin’s face darkened.
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“Maybe. He only taught me how to shoot… because of Hyeonwoo-hyung.”
“Why Gwak Hyeonwoo?”
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“They were close.”
“Don’t be vague, explain it clearly.”
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Ryujin put down the empty Beretta. He licked his dry lower lip. Thinking about Gwak Hyeonwoo made his throat tighten and his eyes sting.
Ryujin spoke haltingly.
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“The head of the terrorist cell… liked Hyeonwoo-hyung. Not just as a colleague, but romantically. Hyung also had feelings for him. But they were in different units… so they didn’t have much opportunity or time to be together.”
“So you played Cupid?”
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“Don’t be sarcastic.”
“It’s my honest impression.”
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“The head of the terrorist cell said I had good eyesight. He told me I could join the terrorist cell if I became a sniper.”
“But you didn’t join.”
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“It wasn’t because I wasn’t good enough!”
Shin Haebeom agreed inwardly. Even if Cha Moeun had wanted Jung Ryujin, Ha Shinsung wouldn’t have let him go easily. Speaking of which, the head of <White Lion>’s terrorist cell and Gwak Hyeonwoo were a rather unexpected pairing. He would have thought Gwak Hyeonwoo wouldn’t even be able to look Cha Moeun in the eye… Well, a diamond in the rough, perhaps? Gwak Jaeheon’s son after all.
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“Wait a minute. Sniper?”
“Why?”
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“Was a rifle your main weapon? What type?”
“A modified lever-action.”
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“Old-fashioned.”
Ryujin bristled at Shin Haebeom’s criticism.
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“What’s wrong with that! I can do a spin load!”
“Oh, that’s an advanced technique.”
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“You know it?”
“Show me.”
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Shin Haebeom handed him a long-barreled rifle.
The spin load, a rival to the revolver’s fanning skill, wasn’t really a practical technique for actual combat. It was difficult to aim, and the weight of the rifle made it hard to support with one hand.
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Its only advantage was that it allowed for one-handed reloading while riding something, but that was rare these days. However, because it looked flashy and appealed to the “male fantasy,” it still survived as a performance skill. Shin Haebeom had seen this kind of performance at the Shinryonggwan honor guard changing ceremony.
Click, the long barrel spun impressively. Ryujin looked back at Shin Haebeom with a triumphant expression.
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“How was it?”
“You’re quite the showman.”
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“What kind of evaluation is that!”
“Evaluation or not, it’s like watching a children’s talent show.”
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Shin Haebeom waved his hand dismissively.
“I’ve seen enough. Put it away.”
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Ryujin aimed the muzzle at the back of Shin Haebeom’s head as he walked away. Of course, the magazine was empty. Even so, he couldn’t move his finger easily. Instead of pulling the trigger, Ryujin silently mouthed the words.
Gun, aim… fire.
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✶⋆.˚
The young man lay in bed with his eyes closed. His noise-canceling earphones blocked out the outside noise to a reasonably satisfactory degree. He had meticulously chosen these ultra-small, inconspicuous Bluetooth earphones for two reasons: convenience, and to endure hours at the adults’ table with a smile on his face.
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His uncle would slap him silly if he knew, but to Kwon Sehyuk, music was a survival strategy. Taylor Swift’s diss track always calmed him down.
l don’t like you little games
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Don’t like you tilted stage
The role you made me play
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Of the fool no I don’t like you
His graduation party had been the worst. He hadn’t been able to invite a single one of his close friends. The ace of the volleyball team, who had actively participated for three years and even made it to the national competition, had tested positive for doping, turning the school upside down.
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While everyone involved with the volleyball team was summoned for questioning, Kwon Sehyuk was dragged away by someone claiming to be his uncle’s aide. To Kwon Sehyuk, who protested that he wouldn’t go alone, the aide simply repeated like a parrot that this wasn’t a place for a prince.
The party, held in the event hall of a five-star hotel, was glamorous. But Kwon Sehyuk didn’t consider himself the protagonist of this party. The main character was his uncle. He was practically giddy with the prospect of solidifying his position using his nephew’s graduation as an excuse.
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Kwon Sehyuk was dragged around listlessly by his uncle. He walked back and forth across the vast hall until his feet were swollen. He felt like his face would become paralyzed from smiling and conversing with unfamiliar politicians, journalists, and prominent intellectuals from various fields.
He disliked everything. The blue-gray suit he’d had tailored for today was praised by everyone, but Kwon Sehyuk felt like nothing more than a giant mackerel in the mirror. And the ridiculous bow tie.
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The most unbearable thing was his shoes. Dress shoes with laces tightly tied up to his instep. He gradually lost feeling in his soles. As the party reached its peak, Kwon Sehyuk fled to the restroom and kicked off his shoes.
He took out the cell phone he’d stashed in his suit pocket. No one had replied. Kwon Sehyuk chose a contact and called, but after a few rings, the line suddenly went dead.
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Kwon Sehyuk tried another contact. One phone was turned off, and the other played a message saying the number didn’t exist. He was the only one left in the group chat with the entire volleyball team. Everyone had left. When? And without him?
Seriously…
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Since we’ve all graduated, they’re saying we don’t need to see each other anymore?
Kwon Sehyuk was dumbfounded. He even felt betrayed. For the past three years, he had made an effort to associate with friends who were forging their own paths without relying on their parents’ or relatives’ backgrounds.
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It hadn’t been easy to endure the harassment of the “upper crust” who had tried and failed to draw him into their circle, while simultaneously trying to fit in with the “lower crust” who kept their distance from him. But he swore he’d never regretted it once. He believed it was the right thing to do. He believed that to become a good politician, he needed to develop the ability to judge people’s character regardless of their background, from a young age.
Those in power needed loyal advisors who would tell them the hard truths. There would be no growth if one only listened to pleasant words from childhood. Kwon Sehyuk genuinely believed that.
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Lost in the music, he hadn’t heard the knocking. It wasn’t until he saw the doorknob rattling as if it were about to come off that Kwon Sehyuk realized someone was standing outside his door. And that this ‘someone’ was furious.
“What?”
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He pulled out one earphone. The sound of the rattling doorknob, the pounding fists on the door, was loud. Kwon Sehyuk sprang up from the bed.
“What?!”
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“What are you doing locking your door?!”
“Just leave me alone!”
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“Open this door!”
“Why all of a sudden?!”
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“Open the door before I call someone. One, two!”
“Oh, come on!”
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Jang Seung-hee quickly stepped back. Sure enough, her reckless son flung open the door as if he were about to smash the forehead of whoever was standing there.
“What now.”
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The tall young man was far beyond the category of “cute son.” His messy brown hair fell across his pale forehead. Jang Seung-hee crossed her arms and looked up at the grumbling Kwon Sehyuk.
“What were you doing with the door locked?”
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“Nothing, I was just lying in bed.”
“If you weren’t doing anything, why did you take so long to open the door?”
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“I was listening to music. God, why are you interrogating me?”
Kwon Sehyuk opened his palm. His Bluetooth earphones were there. But Jang Seung-hee didn’t drop her suspicious gaze.
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“Are you contacting those kids?”
“Mom!”
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“Your uncle is very worried about you. Okay? Since we’ve decided on the military matter, just stay home quietly until you enter the Disciplinary Camp. Don’t go outside.”
“This is driving me crazy…”
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“You’re driving me crazy. I thought I could finally relax after you graduated and that whole sports club thing, but what’s with this mess at the last minute?”
Kwon Sehyuk scratched his head furiously. He wished dandruff would fall out, but only the sweet scent of shampoo emanated from his brown hair.
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“That’s why I told you to make proper friends. You spent three years tagging along with that sports club, only to be screwed over and implicated in a doping scandal, and you can sleep soundly? You can sleep?”
“If I can’t sleep, what, should I cry and throw a tantrum?”
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“Don’t be ridiculous! I can’t face your uncle because of you.”
“Stop talking about my uncle!”
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He couldn’t take it anymore.
“I came home from that stupid party at dawn and I’m exhausted, let me sleep!”
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“That kid!”
Kwon Sehyuk threw himself onto the bed. Standing in front of the door, which slammed shut and then swung open again due to the draft, Jang Seung-hee spoke loudly, making sure Kwon Sehyuk could hear.
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“If you hang out with those weird kids again, I won’t let you off easy. Your uncle pulled some strings to get you public service, you know. Originally, I was going to send you straight to the Marines.”
Kwon Sehyuk buried his face in his pillow.
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“You messed around playing volleyball with those riffraff, injured your knee, strained your back, messed up your ankle, and back then, I understood. But then you really caused a problem. It’s a good thing your uncle acted quickly. Just the thought of how things could have gotten out makes me jump out of bed at night. I need to tell him to do something about that damn athletic scholarship system. From the start, their backgrounds…”
Kwon Sehyuk yelled,
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“Mom!”
“I’m just upset, so upset!”
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“Stop it! I’m frustrated too!”
Jang Seung-hee didn’t back down. She was the president’s wife. For the past twenty years, after having her first son, the apple of her eye, Jang Seung-hee had struggled to place the world in Kwon Sehyuk’s hands.
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She looked down at her son, who was hiding under the covers.
“Get your act together. You’re an adult now.”
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“…….”
“You need to know who you are, and who the people supporting you are.”
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“…….”
Jang Seung-hee sat on the edge of the bed.
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“Because you’re special.”
Kwon Sehyuk clenched his fists. He knew, even without her saying it. It was something he’d heard countless times over the past three years. Words he had vehemently denied until his heart ached.
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He didn’t think he was special. He was just born with a better background than others. That was all.
Every human being deserves respect as an individual, and no one should be worshipped as an idol.
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Kwon Sehyuk closed his eyes, recalling the words of Albert Einstein.
✶⋆.˚
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He received various uniforms worn by the Disciplinary trainees, except for the dress uniform worn by officers and above. He also received a peaked cap and polished boots. However, he didn’t have the rank insignia, badges, or armbands that other soldiers proudly displayed. Ryujin had nothing to indicate his identity or position. Not even a name tag. Shin Haebeom threatened that since he couldn’t issue him an access card yet, he had to stick to him like glue.
“I hate being monitored.”
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“Then starve. You can’t enter the cafeteria without this.”
Shin Haebeom dangled the key card from his finger. Ryujin wanted to punch him, he was so infuriating.
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“Don’t get cocky when you haven’t even learned the layout of the building yet.”
“There’s too much to memorize.”
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“Code words are the basics of radio communication. You can’t communicate without them. Being able to use them is one of the things you need to do to stay by MVP’s side.”
“…….”
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“I’ll give you exactly three days. If you don’t cram it all into that tiny head of yours, you’re going straight to the basement.”
“There are over a hundred! How am I supposed to memorize them in three days?!”
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“You’ll have pop quizzes every night, and I’ll hit you ten times for every wrong answer.”
“You’re threatening me!”
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Shin Haebeom laughed.
“This is military-style education.”
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Ryujin gritted his teeth and clutched the pencil Shin Haebeom had magnanimously tossed him. He had no choice. He didn’t want to be dragged to the basement.
Jin Chiwoo returned. He was the most unsettling person in the entire Disciplinary Training Camp. The feeling was probably mutual, but Jin Chiwoo refused Shin Haebeom’s offer to put up a partition to separate their spaces. And he constantly hovered around Ryujin. His purpose was to interfere.
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“Look at his handwriting. It’s like worms crawling around.”
“…….”
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“You’re a middle school graduate, right? Can you even write your name in English?”
Jin Chiwoo provoked him like this.
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“What are you glaring at?! I swear!”
A box of tissues flew at him. Ryujin sighed deeply. Shin Haebeom was clearly his superior, but Jin Chiwoo acted the same regardless of whether he was present or not.
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But it wasn’t like Shin Haebeom reprimanded him. He actually seemed to enjoy watching Ryujin being tormented by Jin Chiwoo. They were truly a pair of incomparable trash. Perhaps that’s why they were best friends.
Jin Chiwoo specialized in fieldwork. He was particularly enthusiastic about public relations activities. He attended events, took photos, gave interviews, and did volunteer work in the name of the Disciplinary Training Camp. He claimed that showing himself happy reassured the public. Of course, Ryujin didn’t believe him. Jin Chiwoo just wanted to have fun.
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It was the same when he was in the office. Jin Chiwoo spent more time eating, watching TV, or sprawled out on the sofa sleeping than working. There was also one unexpected fact. Jin Chiwoo didn’t hoard the food he bought. He always put some on a small plate and shared it with Ryujin. Of course, he never actually invited him to eat together.
Compared to Jin Chiwoo, Shin Haebeom was at least somewhat like a proper government employee. He received dozens of documents requiring his approval from the morning. He reviewed various reports and planned projects. He even went on night patrols. He wasn’t completely devoid of external activities, but they were minimal compared to Jin Chiwoo’s, and he didn’t just go through the motions with volunteer work. Compared to Jin Chiwoo, who always tried to get in front of the camera, he was conscientious.
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Gi Woohee had two titles: Major and First Deputy Director. At first, Ryujin was so confused he couldn’t even address him. He later learned that Major was his military rank, and First Deputy Director was his position within the Disciplinary Training Camp.
Sung Jae-kyung, seeing Ryujin’s confusion, explained it to him by drawing a chart. Chief Shin Haebeom’s military rank was Brigadier General, and Deputy Chief Jin Chiwoo’s was Lieutenant Colonel.
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Sung Jae-kyung often called Ryujin out of the cafeteria during peak hours to avoid the crowds. He wanted to eat with him. Lately, Ryujin had been eating with Sung Jae-kyung every day. At first, he’d thought of him as an annoying soldier, but after learning he was the same age as Gwak Hyeonwoo, he softened towards him. Even Shin Haebeom didn’t interfere when Ryujin said he was going to eat with Sung Jae-kyung.
Ryujin marked the days when Sung Jae-kyung wasn’t on duty on his calendar. Those were good days. Days he could have dinner with Sung Jae-kyung.
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“Lunch is good today. I haven’t had noodles in a while.”
“Yeah.”
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“If there’s anything you want to eat, write it down and put it in the suggestion box over there. The dietitian takes it into consideration when planning the menu.”
“Yeah.”
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“Your face has healed a lot. You’re keeping the compress on at night, right? If it falls off, don’t go to the infirmary alone, tell me. I’ll bring you one.”
“Yeah…”
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“You don’t have to keep your head down. There’s no one looking, we’re facing the wall.”
Still, appearances mattered, as did people’s gazes. Even if it was Shin Haebeom’s decision, Ryujin was from an anti-government organization. Everyone knew about the hostage situation in the infirmary. He’d heard the medical officer who was the victim had eventually resigned.
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“Ugh, fuck, this sucks.”
He definitely heard it. He didn’t dare turn around. Judging by the way Sung Jae-kyung’s chopsticks froze in midair, he’d heard it too. Naturally, since he wasn’t deaf.
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“Don’t mind them.”
“…….”
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“He could’ve been talking about me.”
“Why would he be talking about you, hyung?”
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Sung Jae-kyung cleared his throat awkwardly.
“About how I rode someone’s coattails to snag all the best assignments in my senior class.”
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“What does that even mean?”
“Technically, I’m a high school graduate. I dropped out of the military academy. Man, my family went crazy back then. My whole family struggled in Gwangseong so I, the only son for three generations, could become an officer, and I quit in the middle. Back then, my dad…”
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Ryujin quietly put down his chopsticks. Sung Jae-kyung was a good person. But there was an invisible wall between them. Even sitting side by side, eating together, Ryujin couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a different kind of person.
“You stare at yourself in the mirror an awful lot every morning.”
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He flinched and turned around. Jin Chiwoo, a towel draped around his neck, sneered.
“So don’t do things that’ll get you beaten up.”
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Ryujin pretended not to hear and gathered his toiletries.
“Oh ho, ignoring me now?”
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Jin Chiwoo had stumbled into the office drunk the previous night and collapsed on the sofa. He’d snored loudly, sprawled out and fast asleep. It was so loud Ryujin couldn’t sleep. He’d stayed up all night.
He was a truly incomprehensible person. The audacity to sleep in the same space as the terrorist who had tried to assassinate him, no matter how drunk he was. And the thunderous snoring and sleep-talking. He’d been muttering all night, it had nearly driven Ryujin insane.
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Ryujin desperately wanted to smother Jin Chiwoo’s face with a cushion. He felt that if he killed Jin Chiwoo, he could avenge Gwak Hyeonwoo.
The reason he hadn’t acted was because of his noona. Because this was his last chance to clear his noona’s name by harming Kwon Sehyuk and bringing down Kwon Joohyuk.
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Of course, Jin Chiwoo had no idea what Ryujin was thinking. That’s why he said things like this.
“If I were you, I’d be taking ritual baths every morning and running around to entertainment agencies. One must know one’s place. You have to coldly assess and analyze what you have, what you’re good at, and dedicate yourself to that field. In my opinion, you’re hopeless at using your brain, and the only thing you have going for you is your resemblance to your noona…”
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Bang! Jin Chiwoo, who was chugging a hangover cure drink, jumped. The yellow liquid spilled from the can, staining the front of his white t-shirt.
“Hey! You little brat!”
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He ignored the roar that shook the bathroom door. Ryujin paused as he took his toothbrush out of the waterproof pouch he’d been issued. His reflection in the mirror was appalling.
His wounds healed slowly. Purplish bruises, their edges yellowed, covered his face. He could hide the burn marks on his temples with his hair, but they would be scars for life.
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Ryujin sighed and pressed his cheeks with his hands. He couldn’t feel his face because of the strong medication.
Jin Chiwoo seemed to think he wanted these wounds to heal quickly. But the opposite was true. Ryujin hoped they would last as long as possible. He felt that someone would recognize him if he regained his original face. He felt like someone would grab his shoulder in the hallway, the cafeteria, the bathroom, and ask, “Aren’t you Ryu Yeonbi’s younger brother?”
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✶⋆.˚
Gi Woohee allowed him to memorize code words in the corner of the shooting range if he achieved his target accuracy. Sung Jae-kyung helped him memorize as long as it didn’t interfere with his own practice. They even practiced radio communication. He mostly worked one-on-one with Sung Jae-kyung, but Gi Woohee occasionally joined in.
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He pointed out code words that were rarely used these days and easy to forget, or those with similar syllables that were easy to confuse. Thanks to this, Ryujin managed to get decent scores on Shin Haebeom’s pop quizzes. Of course, because of the perverse system of getting hit ten times for every mistake, the back of his head was constantly throbbing.
Before he knew it, Ryujin had come to like the 11th-floor members.
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The 11th-floor members referred to those who worked in the 11th-floor office, including Gi Woohee and Sung Jae-kyung. When Ryujin heard that Gi Woohee had refused Shin Haebeom’s offer to move to the top floor, he thought it was just like him. He was someone who suited being number one on the 11th floor better than number three on the 12th.
Gi Woohee wasn’t particularly affectionate towards Ryujin. He was closer to indifferent. He supervised his shooting practice, but only to a limited extent, and didn’t give him any special attention. However, Ryujin felt that Gi Woohee didn’t dislike him.
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Since the leader acted that way, the 11th-floor staff followed suit. They were kind to Ryujin. They greeted him when they ran into him in public areas, gave him directions when he was lost, and taught him how to use the unfamiliar, state-of-the-art facilities.
The problem started on the floors below.
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Even going down to the 10th floor made him anxious. Ryujin walked quickly, head down and shoulders hunched. Once, he even made the huge mistake of walking ahead of Shin Haebeom.
He was immediately dragged to the restroom and slapped. While his head was still spinning from the blow, he made a mistake with a code word and got kicked in the stomach. Ryujin had to kneel on the bathroom floor and vomit up the entire Salisbury steak he’d eaten for lunch.
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Meals with Shin Haebeom were dreadful. His claim to manage every aspect of his life wasn’t a lie. He monitored Ryujin’s every move, and if anything deviated from his standards, he lashed out with verbal and physical abuse. This took two forms: in front of others, and in secret where no one could see.
Table manners and memorizing code words fell under the former. Shin Haebeom was a textbook example when it came to table manners. And he wanted Ryujin to be exactly like him. After a meal with Shin Haebeom, Ryujin’s forehead and the back of his hands would be bright red. He got hit for all sorts of reasons. For smacking his lips, for dropping grains of rice.
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Others interpreted it as education. Shin Haebeom’s smiling face and affectionate voice made them mistake violence for educational guidance. The cook, who always piled Ryujin’s plate with bulgogi because he was so thin, gave him a thumbs up, saying it was an education you couldn’t buy with money, and that if he learned it well, he wouldn’t be intimidated even in a hotel restaurant. She tearfully told Shin Haebeom that people like him should be working at Shinryonggwan, and it was a shame he wasn’t getting promoted because of them. It was a complete farce. Ryujin couldn’t manage his expression.
Shin Haebeom must have found that quite irritating.
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As soon as they finished eating, he dragged Ryujin to the cafeteria. Staff members who had finished their lunch early were still enjoying their remaining break time. As befitting a space for relaxation, it was spacious and well-lit. The aroma of coffee beans filled the air.
Shin Haebeom took a seat at a table and demanded Ryujin take out his code word notes. Ryujin was flustered.
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Shin Haebeom’s quizzes were conducted every night. It was broad daylight now, and Ryujin didn’t carry the headache-inducing code word notes around 24/7.
“I don’t have them.”
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He answered honestly. At that, the murmurs grew louder. How dare he, so disrespectful, in front of the Brigadier General…
Ryujin wanted to cover his ears. He understood Shin Haebeom’s intention. He wanted to humiliate him in public.
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“No choice then. Guess what I’m saying.”
He answered the first few. But soon, his thoughts scattered. The gazes, the whispers. Ryujin’s lips trembled, and he abruptly stood up and ran. He didn’t even want to think about what the onlookers would think, or what they would gossip about.
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He couldn’t take the elevator without a key card. Ryujin went to the emergency stairs. There, he found trainees smoking. Ryujin flinched and backed away.
He wandered around for a while, but there was nowhere to escape. Eventually, Ryujin crouched down on the floor in front of the elevators. His back was cold.
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Ryujin hugged his knees and buried his face between them.
Shin Haebeom, who he’d expected to chase after him immediately, appeared much later, casually sipping iced coffee.
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Shin Haebeom’s boots stopped in front of Ryujin’s feet. A large hand stroked his head.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
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He was grabbed by the hair and shoved into the elevator. Before the doors even closed, Shin Haebeom threw his coffee away. Then, he pounced like a dog in heat. He pinned Ryujin’s wrists above his head and kissed him. Shin Haebeom’s key card took them straight to the top floor.
The elevator doors opened, and Ryujin collapsed in the hallway.
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“Ah… ah.”
His whole body convulsed with shock and terror. His legs wouldn’t support him. Shin Haebeom’s large hand grabbed Ryujin’s ankle as he crawled.
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“Aagh!”
He was dragged along. Ryujin screamed, scratching the marble floor with his fingernails, but there was no one to help.
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“Stop, stop…!”
His belt was undone. His pants and underwear were pulled down in one go. Ryujin struggled and resisted, but he was no match for the weight pressing down on him and the strength of Shin Haebeom’s grip. His uniform jacket was pulled up to his neck, his undershirt riding up as well. Rough, calloused hands grabbed at his chest. Terror shot through his body.
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“Stop! Stop it! You crazy bastard!”
Fingers probed between his buttocks. Long fingers with prominent knuckles… Ryujin gritted his teeth.
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Two fingers became three. Something cold and hard was rubbed against his entrance.
“Wh-what…”
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Shin Haebeom chuckled.
“Taste it.”
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It was ice. He didn’t know how long he’d been holding it. A cubic ice cube, its edges rounded, was roughly rubbed between Ryujin’s buttocks.
“Ugh…!”
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The ice melted against Ryujin’s body heat. Shin Haebeom pulled Ryujin’s waist closer, holding him as he thrashed, trying to crawl away. The ice and fingers pushed in at the same time.
“Ah… No, no. Stop…!”
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His raised waist trembled. Shin Haebeom continued to push the ice inside.
“Ah, ah, ah!”
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“Does it hurt?”
“Ah, it hurts.”
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“It feels good to me.”
Long fingers probed, poked, and scratched his insides. Ryujin buried his face in the floor and sobbed.
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When the ice had completely melted, a thick tip pushed between his buttocks. Sticky pre-cum was smeared against his entrance.
Ryujin’s chin trembled. He stretched one hand back with difficulty and hit Shin Haebeom’s thigh. Telling him to stop, to quit it. With his other arm, he pushed against Shin Haebeom’s elbow, trying to move forward.
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“What’s wrong? Stay still.”
“No, no… no… Haa, ah, aagh!”
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His still-healing wounds tore. A sharp pain shot up his spine. It was a pain he knew well, but one he could never get used to. His body was being forced open.
Ryujin sobbed, shaking his head. He couldn’t even breathe from the pain, fear, and rage coursing through him.
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Shin Haebeom pushed his way in. He could feel the veins throbbing against him. The feeling of something thick, as if his insides were being pushed up, was vivid.
“Haagh, uh, uhh… Nn. Ugh.”
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His breath hitched. Tears hanging from his eyelashes fell. With that single drop, the tears came pouring out. A hot lump in his chest throbbed. His throat tightened. Ryujin burst into tears.
“You bastard. You asshole. Fuck, why are you doing this to me, why… Ah!”
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His head was yanked back. Shin Haebeom’s hand gripped his hair.
“Why am I doing this?”
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Shin Haebeom whispered. Ryujin felt his hot breath against his ear.
“Because I want to.”
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Just when he thought he was all the way in, he was thrust upwards.
“Huu! Ugh, ah, ah, ah…!”
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He felt hair against his buttocks. The feeling of a thick, hot, hard cock scraping against his insides was vivid. Ryujin swallowed his sobs, begging him to be gentle, to please move slowly. Of course, Shin Haebeom didn’t bat an eye.
“Aagh!”
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His flesh tore. Blood trickled down his thighs. Ryujin screamed and cried. His cries, close to wails, filled the vast, empty 12th floor.
He thought it would be over now.
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He’d thought the brutal rapes in the interrogation room and shower room were retaliation for the attempted assassination of Jin Chiwoo. He thought since they were now on the same side, it wouldn’t happen again. He was wrong. It was a futile hope, as evidenced by Shin Haebeom, who was now ravaging him like an animal from behind.
“That video of you turned out great… it’s a masterpiece that will go down in the history of rape videos. It could make even a hundred-year-old man hard.”
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Hot breath touched the back of his neck. Shin Haebeom lifted a finger and pressed down on Ryujin’s nipple, hardened by the stimulation. He pressed and rubbed it hard with his fingertip. When he touched it like that, Ryujin’s cheek twitched uncontrollably. It meant he could feel it in his chest. Even if his lower body was numb.
Shin Haebeom bit Ryujin’s shoulder and laughed. The walls of his ass clenched around him tightly. It sucked him in when he thrust, and clung to him longingly when he twisted and pulled out.
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Shin Haebeom gripped Ryujin’s neck. He adjusted his grip, careful not to choke him unconscious, and moved his hips.
Ryujin, who had been desperately trying to crawl away, suddenly went limp, as if all his energy had drained. He swayed like a puppet to Shin Haebeom’s movements. He couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of being stabbed, pressed, and ravaged from the inside. Tears streamed down his face. His stomach hurt every time Shin Haebeom moved. As if an invisible hand were churning his insides… It was agonizing. When Shin Haebeom finally gasped and came, Ryujin vomited.
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Shin Haebeom’s face contorted.
“Aagh!”
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His hair was yanked. Ryujin scratched Shin Haebeom’s wrist and thrashed wildly. But it wasn’t enough to break free from his grip.
His bare back, exposed by his bunched-up clothes, scraped against the marble floor. The grazed skin burned like a fresh burn.
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“Let go of me! Stop it!”
Shin Haebeom didn’t stop. By the time they reached the office door, Ryujin’s pants and underwear, which had fallen to his knees, were precariously hanging around his ankles.
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Shin Haebeom kicked the door open. Ryujin was thrown to the floor by the brute force. He rolled to the desk and his back hit the desk leg.
“Gah.”
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His breath caught in his throat. He must have hit it wrong. Ryujin lay on the floor, his back arched like a shrimp. He gasped for air, his vision turning yellow.
“Ugh.”
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The nausea returned. He had already vomited in the hallway, so all that came out was yellow bile. Shin Haebeom looked down at him coldly.
“Get up.”
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“Huu… ugh, haa…”
“Get up, now!”
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“I want to! You son of a bitch!”
“You have a real talent for pissing people off.”
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Shin Haebeom grabbed Ryujin by the collar and pulled him up. Ryujin’s feet left the floor, and his thin body spun around. Shin Haebeom threw Ryujin onto Jin Chiwoo’s desk.
“Aagh!”
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A tremendous impact hit the back of his head and his back. Ryujin’s head lolled limply. A black nameplate entered his blurry vision. He saw the bold silver lettering. Deputy Chief of the Disciplinary Training Camp… Jin Chiwoo.
“No, no.”
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Ryujin instinctively muttered and struggled to get away from Shin Haebeom’s hands. A blow landed without fail.
His lips, which had just scabbed over, split open again. His slender neck was jerked this way and that. When Ryujin finally went limp, Shin Haebeom unbuckled his belt with a smirk. The cock that had just been inside Jung Ryujin was already hard. Painfully so.
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He completely stripped Ryujin from the ankles up, hooking his legs over his shoulders.
Ryujin groaned at the pain shooting through his spine.
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“Ugh…”
“Stop resisting.”
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“Don’t… don’t do it. Not here…!”
“Should we go to the interrogation room then?”
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Ryujin struggled to raise his upper body, but the weight pressing down on him allowed him to move only his head. His outstretched hands grasped at nothing. The tip pushed into his blood-and-semen-soaked entrance.
“Huu…”
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The ceiling was awash in yellow light. Ryujin panted, his mouth open. Shin Haebeom’s sweat dripped onto his bare chest. He merely furrowed his brows slightly; his expression was otherwise the same as always. Only Ryujin was falling apart.
“Ah, ah, ah… Agh, ah…!”
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After thrusting for a while, Shin Haebeom stopped and lowered his upper body. The connection deepened. Coarse hair brushed against his cheek. Ryujin knew he was about to come.
“Do it outside. Do it outside!”
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Shin Haebeom didn’t listen. He came inside Ryujin, holding his hips tightly with both hands to prevent him from pulling away.
“Ah, no, no… no…”
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He felt everything about Shin Haebeom. His body heat, his breath, the smell of his strong cologne mixed with the scent of sweat. The male scent. The veins throbbing on his thick, hard cock.
Shin Haebeom’s large hand grasped and cupped his trembling cheek. Ryujin squeezed his eyes shut.
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Shin Haebeom came for a long time. So much so that semen leaked out in droplets from the tightly joined entrance. Ryujin shivered, his neck drawn in. His whole body ached.
Finally, Shin Haebeom pulled out. He was spiteful to the end, scraping his insides as he withdrew. He wiped the blood and semen from his cock onto Ryujin’s chest.
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Ryujin slumped powerlessly under the desk.
“Huu…”
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He lay on his side, catching his breath. Shin Haebeom knelt beside him. Ryujin’s eyes widened as he saw what was between his legs.
“I-I can’t… No. I can’t do it.”
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Every inch Ryujin retreated, Shin Haebeom advanced. Soon, Ryujin’s back hit the cold wall. Despair washed over him.
“Please…”
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His lips trembled, and tears fell.
“Please stop…”
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Ryujin lay on the floor, crying. He knew how pathetic he looked. Begging for mercy, leaking semen and blood between his legs.
But he wanted to live. He didn’t want to hurt anymore. He felt like he would die if it happened one more time. Ryujin clutched Shin Haebeom’s boots.
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“Please.”
Shin Haebeom offered a compromise.
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“Suck it.”
“What?”
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“Don’t you know how to give a blowjob?”
Disgust filled Ryujin’s face. Shin Haebeom didn’t bother pleading. He grabbed Ryujin’s arm and pulled him up.
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“Forget it. Get on your knees.”