BBK Ch 1

Humans are far too easy. A moderately pleasant smile and a bit of flattery are all it takes to win their hearts and trust. How much weight could such easily given affection possibly hold? The sheer shallowness of it disgusted Gyuoh, but he learned at a rather young age that embracing this shallowness made life easier.

He had always lived with a friendly demeanor, yet maintaining a distance from those around him. He feigned interest, but never truly involved himself in others’ lives. He pretended to desire reciprocation, but in reality, held no expectations. He was used to living this way, and it was much more comfortable.

However, life doesn’t always flow in the desired direction.

―Uh, oh my god! The office door’s about to break down!

Bang, bang! Threatening sounds mingled with the urgent voice. Crack! The noise of someone violently pounding on the door had been going on for a while now, and it seemed like it had finally given way. The man gasped, taking a shallow breath.

―Gasp!

The man often said that thugs fall for a few impressive words, that they’re nothing but stupid insects.

But what about his current state? He’s hiding under his desk like a rat, terrified of the thugs beyond the door. Furthermore, he’s asking for help even from someone like Gyuoh, whom he considers nothing more than a stupid insect.

“You shouldn’t trust people so easily. Sigh.”

Gyuoh sighed, laced with pity. Why hadn’t this smart man learned that lesson?

―Oh, shit. I thought the door opened. Wha, what did you say?

If they hadn’t interfered with us quietly starting the construction as planned. No, if they hadn’t fallen for my words, things wouldn’t have turned out like this. As expected, humans are easily swayed by greed and readily give their trust for small acts of kindness. Gyuoh clicked his tongue and spoke in a calm voice.

“Just talking to myself.”

―If yo-, you can’t come, then at least some of your underlings, huh? Don’t you all have, connections, huh?

Gyuoh swallowed his rising laughter at the desperate plea. After clearing his throat with a fake cough, he imitated a sympathetic voice. The sound of chewing gum, incongruously, mixed with his words.

“Oh dear, what am I going to do? My great-grandmother passed away, so I’m here keeping vigil. It’s a natural death, but it’s my duty as a great-grandson to—”

―Ah! Whe, where is that! Is it far?

The man yelled, even cutting off his own words.

“Ow.”

My eardrums almost burst. Gyuoh, who had been holding his phone between his shoulder and cheek, hadn’t been prepared and winced, squinting one eye. However, he quickly regained his composure and continued tearing the document in his hand. Crack, crack, the sound of a wooden stick burning in a drum followed. Whitish smoke and crimson flames flickered in his vision.

“It’s far. Is this Busan? Or Mokpo?”

Of course, in reality, it was less than a 20-minute motorcycle ride away. But there was no need to give the man hope.

―Wha, what?

He pushed the gum he had been chewing with his tongue and blew. The inflated bubble finally popped with a pang, spreading a faint grape scent.

“I said it’s far.”

―When the hell did you get all the way there, damn it.

Unlike the man, who was constantly anxious, Gyuoh remained nonchalant throughout the call. He simply focused on tearing the thirty-page document into small pieces and throwing them into the fire. It was what their side had given to lure this man in, and even if it was a forged document, it wouldn’t be good if any traces remained. After throwing the last piece of paper into the drum, he dusted off his hands.

Bang! Crash!

Dull bursting sounds echoed from the other end of the line. It sounded like the doorknob breaking. He could roughly gauge the situation from the sounds alone.

―Ugh! Wha, what do I do. Damn it, jump, I can’t even get down!

Despite the incoherent rambling that conveyed the urgent situation, Gyuoh was still relaxed. He grabbed the phone from between his shoulder and cheek and bent down.

“That’s not a bad idea. No place to hide?”

―You crazy bastard, do you think there is? Is there no way, anything!

The man snapped at Gyuoh’s indifferent attitude. Gyuoh picked up the motorcycle helmet he had placed on the floor and straightened up with a grunt of “Oof.” He held the helmet with his fingertips and slung it over his shoulder.

“Well. I’d like to help you, but my great-grandfather says he’s lonely going to hell alone. He can’t go to heaven because he caused so much trouble.”

―What? You said great-grand, mo, mother?

“Oh?”

Gyuoh, who had been walking away with his back to the burning drum, stopped abruptly. He tilted his head, tapping his back with the helmet hanging from his fingertips. If the man had been in front of him, he probably would have punched him for his annoying behavior.

“Did I say that?”

A faint chuckle was followed by the loud crash of the door breaking down. The man’s scream followed.

“Anyway, whether it’s a grandmother or a grandfather, what does it matter when they don’t even exist?”

―Damn it, aren’t you letting go? Get out of the way!

Crash, bang, the loud noises continued without end. It seemed like the phone had dropped to the floor as well, as deafening noises mixed in.

“Learn a thing or two from those thugs you used to look down on, Mr. Kim.”

Crack, the sound of something being stepped on rang out. A familiar voice followed over the phone.

―Manager?

The title, which he never quite got used to, felt awkward every time he heard it. Gyuoh, squinting one eye, chewed his gum and replied.

“Yeah. Make sure Mr. Kim looks good in the picture.”

―Yes, sir. We’ll start the cleanup.

“Good work.”

The call ended abruptly with a short reply.

“He’s got a long education for a reason.”

Whether it was a great-grandmother or a great-grandfather, even Gyuoh himself couldn’t remember clearly, and yet the man had picked up on it. Well, he must be this smart to have become a public official and have the brains to embezzle funds.

Gyuoh left the abandoned factory with light steps. The flames in the drum were still blazing crimson. The whitish smoke billowing from it followed Gyuoh like a shadow.

As soon as he reached the entrance of the abandoned factory, he immediately called the person at the top of his call log. The ringing didn’t even last two rings.

“Cleared?”

―Okay, good work.

As always, an indifferent voice replied. However, he was long past the age where he would be hurt or offended by such a response. Won Gyuoh and Cha Minho had known each other for a long time.

“You’re still at the office?”

―Yeah. It never seems to end.

The meaningless movement of his jaw as he chewed gum slowed down. He knew Minho would have skipped meals and been glued to his desk all day. He said that, but he was also someone who fretted over reading even one more word.

―You go home.

Gyuoh pushed the heavy iron door. He had to use his shoulder to push it closed, and then he locked it. Screech, squeak, the sharp metallic sound mixed with his reply.

“Hmm, yessir.”

―…Let’s hang up.

The call ended with a curt conversation. His heart felt as light as a feather after finishing the report. Gyuoh took the chewed gum from his mouth and stuck it to the doorknob. The grape-scented gum clung stickily as he smeared it. Then, he hummed a tune as he got on his motorcycle.

“Whew.”

He blew the dust off his helmet and pressed it firmly onto his head. He fastened the helmet buckle and continued humming as he adjusted his posture with a slight bend at the waist.

Now that I think about it, I’m hungry too. Should I ask Minho-hyung if he wants to have a late-night snack? I should get something filling since he probably skipped dinner. He’s picky, so it’s not easy to please his palate. He thought of a menu to satisfy his hunger as he increased his speed.

Vroom, with a loud roar, the motorcycle shot forward. The wheels scraped the ground fiercely, kicking up dust, but left no trace. Meanwhile, the paper thrown into the drum had turned to black ashes.

Knock, knock. He opened the door without waiting for a response to his knock. The dimly lit office was illuminated only by a single lamp focused on the desk. Gyuoh lit up the dark space and held up the pizza he was carrying, giving it a little shake.

“Ding-dong, is this Mr. Do Minho?”

His eyes met Minho’s, who squinted at the sudden brightness. He had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his tie slung over his shoulder, and his glasses pushed up onto his head, a comical sight, but his wide eyes looked quite sharp.

“You’ve got the wrong address.”

“Why are you a Cha, hyung? You should be a Do to be truly pizza-like.”

Despite the continued nonsense, Minho just chuckled. He leaned back in his chair, pressing his eyelids, and then slowly opened one eye.

“What’s with the pizza at this hour?”

“I could tell by your voice earlier. I figured you’d be glued to your desk, skipping meals again.”

Gyuoh entered Minho’s space without hesitation and opened the pizza box. The savory, greasy aroma of the still-warm pizza spread through the air.

“I had some bread. They brought it up from the first floor.”

He also frequented the first-floor cafe as if it were his dining room, so he knew all the bakery items. There wasn’t anything substantial enough to fill him up. They sold sandwiches, but they weren’t enough for a meal in Gyuoh’s opinion.

“That’s a snack.”

Gyuoh stood in front of the small sink in the back. He bent awkwardly at the waist and lathered his hands with soap. As the fragrant foam lifted his spirits, a nonchalant voice suddenly came from behind him.

“Go ahead and eat. I’ll just finish this up.”

He stopped lathering his large hands and stared into the mirror. Beyond it, he could see Minho pulling his glasses down and putting them on properly. That workaholic deserved to be called a work demon.

“Come on, let’s eat together? It’s not like they pay you extra for this.”

“I’ll be done soon.”

“….”

If he was going to be done soon, he could eat and then look, couldn’t he? Oblivious to his furrowed brows, Gyuoh took a step forward, his hands covered in soap. Plop, plop, small bubbles dropped to the floor with every two or three steps.

As he approached the desk, Minho’s dry eyes, focused on the papers, shifted to Gyuoh. Ignoring the questioning gaze, Gyuoh grabbed Minho’s hand with his soapy hands.

“Hey.”

He held Minho’s hand tightly as he tried to pull away and winked.

“Oh, honey. You want to shower together? Okay.”

He whispered playfully and pulled Minho up from his chair. Perhaps surprised, Minho got up rather obediently.