BBK Ch 12

“Touchy, aren’t you?”

Ignoring the mocking tone, Minho slipped his hand into his pocket. He had intended to drag out the negotiation, feigning cooperation, while fishing for information on the fake pastor’s whereabouts. But if he continued to play it cool, he might suffocate from the stench.

“The offered compensation is 960 million won. Considering our past relationship, I’ll round it up to 1 billion.”

He jumped several steps and abruptly brought up the main point.

“Hey, are you unaware of the current market price?”

“I know. It’s 1.2 billion.”

“How does adding in ‘past relationship’ decrease the amount?”

At the incredulous reply, Minho pulled out the photos he had in his pocket and tossed them onto the table. Several photos, taken from various angles, scattered across the surface. A church member with clear signs of assault, surrounded by thugs. Faces identical to those in the photographs were present in this very room.

“It’ll be in your best interest to quietly split the 1 billion and walk away. If you go to jail for confinement and assault and receive nothing, you’re only doing the pastor a favor.”

“Wow. Is this the ‘big corporation negotiation’ Won Gyuoh was talking about?”

Minho glanced over, meeting Gyuoh’s eyes.

Hyung, is this right? Are we doing this right? The unspoken question was clear, but Gyuoh only shrugged, maintaining a nonchalant facade. Minho coughed and ran a hand through his hair. He felt dark eyes fixated on his exposed wrist and the watch he wore.

“You guys with nothing better to do might have all the time in the world, but we don’t.”

“Hmm. It’s true we have plenty of time… but what are you going to do if we hold out? Why are you being so aggressive?”

Shaggy Hair nudged the scattered photos with the toe of his slipper, even stopping the guy next to him from picking them up.

“You shouldn’t consider a few pictures like these an ‘attack’.”

Shaggy Hair’s eyebrows twitched slightly at the calmly delivered words laced with a hint of amusement. He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Minho.

“…So, you’ve got something solid on us?”

“If you’re curious, try holding out. You have plenty of time, right?”

His tone remained devoid of emotion. Stalling was part of their plan, but it seemed the guy hadn’t anticipated that.

“Don’t expect me to cater to you. Won Gyuoh might have been nice enough to listen to your bullshit, but that won’t work anymore.”

“That’s right. He nags me every time I come here. I’m scared to death.”

Gyuoh, who had been listening quietly, whined, bringing his index finger to the corner of his eye, feigning a tearful expression. Shaggy Hair scoffed at the sight, but Minho sided with Gyuoh.

“You guys bullied him so much when he was young that he couldn’t grow properly. Otherwise, he would’ve reached 190cm. Look how short he is.”

Gyuoh played along, hunching his large frame, despite being the tallest and most imposing person in the room.

“He’s nice? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“And washed-up thugs demanding tens of billions of won is somehow reasonable?”

Minho’s gaze, unlike when he looked at Gyuoh, was cold as he scanned the room. They must have heard rumors. That if they kept obstructing the redevelopment project, the desperate party would eventually give in to their demands.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t new to dealing with this kind of people. He wouldn’t give in easily.

Scoffing repeatedly, Shaggy Hair suddenly yelled, “T-That’s called creative economics! Don’t you know that, Mr. Educated?”

“If you knew how to do creative economics, you wouldn’t be living like this.”

“…”

Despite the blatant insults and disregard for their pride, they didn’t react strongly. Causing trouble would also harm them. They had all been in the business together, so maybe a structured life had become ingrained in them. Or perhaps they were intimidated by Won Gyuoh, standing there with his arms crossed.

In any case, despite the unexpectedly hasty negotiation, he was glad he hadn’t lost control.

“And dumbass, what you’re doing is just extortion.”

He snapped, pressing his tired eyelids with his knuckles. It seemed to improve his circulation a little.

“I’ll give you two days. Convince your pastor to back down. It’s better to take a reasonable cut than cook up a whole pot of nothing just to hand it over to him.”

“…”

“Consider this a favor, because of our past.”

As Minho signaled his intention to leave, Gyuoh straightened up from where he had been leaning against the ping pong table. Several eyes followed him as he checked the time on his watch. Seeing their immediate frowns, Minho was glad they had both worn expensive watches.

“Oh.”

Minho stopped abruptly as he was about to leave the ping pong hall. Gyuoh, who had been leading the way, waited, holding the glass door with its faded ping pong paddle sticker.

“Shave your head again. You looked better when you could blame your shitty looks on being bald.”

“W-What?”

Minho stepped out, leaving behind the reddening face. He could hear curses being hurled from beyond the swinging glass door, but neither of them paid attention. As they descended the stairs, Gyuoh, hands in his pockets, nudged Minho with his elbow.

“It’s different when you’re around. My thug instincts must still be there.”

“…”

“They might talk big, but they’re scared shitless.”

That wasn’t the reason. Minho didn’t bother correcting him. He couldn’t possibly say, “It’s because they’ve slept with me,” especially not in front of Gyuoh, who practically vibrated with anxiety whenever Minho mentioned going out to meet someone at night. He kept quiet and lowered his head, pretending to focus on the stairs.

Just 10 minutes after entering the shabby building, the two left the neighborhood.

‧₊🍒˚✮

[Viper: photo]

[Viper: Mr. Won’s car is waiting. -Driver Won]

His head had been pounding from being buried in paperwork, but Gyuoh’s text made him feel deflated.

“He can’t go a day without acting like a fool.”

Despite his words, he zoomed in on the photo of a motorcycle helmet next to a coffee cup. The background showed a familiar metal table.

“I told him not to ride it. He never listens.”

He kept riding it despite the constant scolding. Maybe he should confiscate the motorcycle key again.

Minho folded a few papers and put them in his inner pocket, tucking the photo into his jacket’s front pocket. After gathering his things, he left his office.

His destination was the cafe on the first floor of the same building. As expected, Gyuoh was sitting at their usual spot. He was holding his phone horizontally, watching something so intently that he didn’t even blink.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you if you sent it like that?”

Gyuoh’s dark eyes finally shifted towards him as Minho pulled up a chair.

“As expected, you’re deeply interested in me.”

“You’re in the palm of my hand.”

Gyuoh chuckled, shrugging his shoulders. He flipped his phone over and stretched his arms out low, as if yawning. For a fleeting moment, his hand brushed against Minho’s on the table.

“…”

“…”

They both flinched simultaneously. Minho curled his fingers slightly, while Gyuoh pulled his arm back, as if adjusting his posture. He wasn’t particularly hurt or resentful; it was natural to feel awkward. Yet, the slight distance that had formed between him and Gyuoh, who was always so close, felt like a strange tightening in his chest.

An uncomfortable silence hung briefly in the air. While he was trying to figure out what to say, approaching footsteps broke the quiet.

“Here’s your coffee.”

Minho took a sip of the coffee and immediately frowned. He usually drank his coffee strong, with an extra shot, but this one had a strong dutch coffee flavor. It was the only decaf option at this cafe, and Gyuoh often bought it for him.

“Why do you keep getting decaf?”

“What kind of coffee are you drinking when you can’t even sleep?”

Their usual banter resumed, as if the awkwardness had been a mere illusion. Strangely, the nagging, mixed with the cafe’s soft music, sounded almost soothing.

“I can’t even buy the coffee I want anymore.”

Won Gyuoh’s minor interventions probably wouldn’t have much effect, but the effort was appreciated. As Minho dutifully finished his coffee, Gyuoh devoured two pastries and pushed his plate away.

“Are you taking your motorcycle?”

“I’m giving you a ride.”

He nodded matter-of-factly, tapping the helmet resting on the adjacent chair. Minho frowned slightly and shook his head. He knew Gyuoh wouldn’t ride recklessly, but accidents always happened when you least expected them.

“What about my opinion?”

“Your heart is my heart.”

Gyuoh replied smoothly, winking. Who did he learn to be so brazen from?

“Take my car.”

“No. I’m taking this today.”

The firmness in his tone made Minho look up. He could see a hint of stubbornness in Gyuoh’s face as he held the helmet to his side.

“I want to live a long life.”

“I’ll get you there safely. I’m taking this today.”

He even patted his chest boastfully, as if to reassure Minho. He usually backed down after this much resistance, but today, he was unusually persistent.

“So, why do you have to take that?”

If he was trying to show off like last time, a car would suffice, as would a watch or clothes. Gyuoh hesitated at Minho’s question. He pushed the pastry crumbs around on his plate with a fork before speaking.

“Thinking about those bastards messing with you like they did with me pisses me off.”

“…”

“They keep forgetting what kind of relationship we have.”

They need a reminder that I’ll step in if they mess with you. His expression was serious as he grumbled.