KTSR | Chapter 34

Ijin took it out and examined it from different angles. It was a ziplock bag about the size of a prescription powder packet. Inside, there seemed to be a powder wrapped in thin tissue paper, and Ijin squinted at it.

‘Aphrodisiac.’

He didn’t know why that drug came to mind along with the thought of Maidol. Ijin wondered if it might be a type of horse aphrodisiac.

“Hyung! Are you done yet?! I’m going to freeze to death!”

Kim Jaeman, who had only brought a shirt, was shivering and whining.

Startled, Ijin instinctively shoved what he was holding into his pocket and stood up abruptly. His heart was pounding.

“Ah, hyung. Just clean up a bit. It’s not even a real office… Oof!”

“Take this and wash it. I can’t breathe with the cigarette stench.”

Kim Jaeman flailed as the blanket was thrown at his face, then sniffed it.

As Ijin said, it reeked. Even smokers didn’t like the smell of cigarettes. Kim Jaeman spat and turned around, saying he got it.

“I’ll have to take it to the cleaners.”

Good. While Kim Jaeman was at the cleaners, he could put back what he had in his pocket.

With that plan in mind, he turned to wipe the window frame again, but then he heard the leisurely footsteps and voice of Kwon Hyeongdo from behind.

“Did the cops come? Why is everything turned upside down?”

“Oh. Hyung, no. Executive Director. It’s just that the cigarette smell is a bit strong. I’m going to take it to the cleaners. Doesn’t the motel do laundry too?”

“So you’re asking me to take it? Why don’t you just ask me to wash your underwear too? Jaeman, stop whining and move your ass.”

Kim Jaeman grumbled as he left.

Ijin’s heart pounded so hard he couldn’t bring himself to turn around.

The closer the sound of Kwon Hyeongdo’s firm-soled shoes got, the more Ijin’s heart trembled.

Had he put the drawer back in place? He couldn’t remember.

“When does the ticket selling start?”

“From today, I think.”

Ijin answered obediently. His heart was pounding.

“Really? I’ll have to ask for the ledger tonight.”

It seemed he couldn’t live doing bad things. Ijin bit his lip as he scrubbed the already clean window frame.

“But.”

Just go out. Go out.

The sound of Kwon Hyeongdo’s footsteps, which he thought had moved away, suddenly returned.

“You’re unusually quiet today?”

Kwon Hyeongdo’s voice was suddenly right behind him, as if he had closed the distance in a single stride. Sweat began to form in Ijin’s hands.

Behind him, Kwon Hyeongdo sniffed suspiciously. What was he doing, acting like a detective?

Ijin shrank at the sensation of Kwon Hyeongdo’s breath spreading over his neck.

“You’re acting strange.”

Kwon Hyeongdo’s hand reached up from below and grabbed Ijin’s chest. There wasn’t much to grab on his flat chest, but he squeezed hard, and it hurt a lot.

“Ah. Stop it. I’m cleaning.”

“It’s already clean, so why are you cleaning again?”

“I can’t stand the smell of guys. So how about not smoking inside?”

“You’re a guy too, so why are you making a fuss? And I’m sensitive to smells too, but it’s much more fragrant here than in those gangster punks’ dorms. It feels like my nose is going to fall off there.”

Kwon Hyeongdo raised his eyebrows unevenly at Ijin’s stiff tone. His shiny eyes gleamed even more as he scratched lightly.

“I’ve seen enough con artists and devils to know when you’re lying. Sweetheart, what did you hide that you’re trembling like this?”

Kwon Hyeongdo kneaded Ijin’s chest and with his free hand, fumbled around his waist. His hand went down and touched the waistband of Ijin’s pants, which had become loose due to his weight loss.

At the hook-like pull, Ijin shivered, recalling the hook tattoo on Kwon Hyeongdo’s shoulder.

“Are you already expecting something after getting busted once? Promising talent.”

Not forgetting to tease, Kwon Hyeongdo grabbed Ijin’s butt firmly. Then, without warning, he moved his hand to the front and rummaged through his pocket.

Like gutting a fish, he flipped the pocket inside out, and before Ijin could even react, the plastic bag popped out. Ijin froze, and only Kwon Hyeongdo slowly lowered his gaze to the floor.

“What is this?”

“……”

A sharp ringing filled Ijin’s ears. It felt like his heart was about to leap out of his mouth. Despite his panicked, gasping breaths, Kwon Hyeongdo pretended not to hear anything.

He slowly bent down and picked up the ziplock bag.

“Looks familiar, doesn’t it?”

As he shook it in front of his eyes, it made a sound like sand being sifted, a sound that seemed more fitting for a distant sea.

“Looks like a familiar design.”

“……”

“Did you take it from my drawer?”

Ijin couldn’t answer. Kwon Hyeongdo rubbed his chin with a thoughtful hum. Every movement he made felt as painful as a cold wind hitting a body with a severe fever.

After a long silence, just when Ijin felt like he might pass out from not being able to breathe, Kwon Hyeongdo burst into laughter. Then he turned Ijin around and asked in a subtly languid voice.

“What are you going to do with table salt?”

“What…? Table, what? Table salt?”

Ijin stammered back. Kwon Hyeongdo nodded, rubbing the ziplock bag with his fingers.

“Yeah. Table salt. What are you planning to do with it? Eat it with fried chicken?”

Ijin, who had assumed it was drugs, was taken aback.

Looking back, Kwon Hyeongdo’s face was full of nonchalance. It didn’t seem like a lie.

Yet, Ijin couldn’t fully believe it. In his mind, a suspicion was deeply embedded—like a thin wooden splinter that could rot a finger.

“…That’s table salt? Why would you package salt like that?”

“It’s my hobby. This way, it doesn’t get damp and clump, and it lasts longer. People who eat salt straight don’t live long. I want to live a long time.”

“Living until you’re old and gray? Quite the dream for a gangster.”

Ijin scoffed. Kwon Hyeongdo closely observed Ijin’s face, which seemed to relax with relief.

He moved his hand past Ijin’s small head to the window frame. With a firm grip, Ijin was trapped in the small space like a solitary cell.

“Yeah. I’m going to live a damn long time. So, why did you take this?”

Ijin wasn’t skilled at lying. He licked his lips repeatedly and replied, “I took it to eat with chicken. Why.”

Kwon Hyeongdo scrutinized the bag he was holding and then shoved it back into Ijin’s pocket.

“Yeah. Dip it with fried chicken.”

“Re-really, it’s salt? You’re really giving it to me?”

“Yeah. How much does salt cost? You keep it.”

Kwon Hyeongdo withdrew his arm from beside Ijin. He adjusted his clothes and slowly ran a hand through his hair.

“Keep it safe. Don’t let anyone take it. It’s a gift from oppa.”

Judging by his attitude, it didn’t seem like Kwon Hyeongdo was just joking around.

Ijin felt relieved that the matter was settled, despite his lingering suspicion.

“I folded the bag with my spit. Use it while thinking of me. Or have you forgotten the taste of my spit?”

“How could I forget that disgusting taste? Ah, no. I forgot. Why would I remember that disgusting taste?”

Ijin shuddered, then suddenly recalled Kim Jaeman’s words and paused. Kim Jaeman had speculated that Kwon Hyeongdo’s preference seemed to lean toward the innocent type.

Ijin bit his lip, lowered his voice, and tried speaking again.

“Anyway… I’ll think of you.”

Though he mumbled that the taste of spit was hard to bear, Ijin’s tone and demeanor were as unenthusiastic as chewing on bile. However, it was a reaction he hadn’t shown before—so Kwon Hyeongdo suddenly leaned in.

“Why are you acting like this all of a sudden? Did you eat something bad?”

Ijin bit his tongue, stopping himself from saying the only bad things he’d eaten were your spit and semen. He hid his hands behind his back and clenched his fists tightly.

“It’s just, I’m surprised by how meticulous you are. Uh… surprisingly neat and, um, diligent.”

Even wringing out a dry rag would yield more than this.

Kwon Hyeongdo tilted his head, looking at Ijin’s face, then smiled. The sound of clear marbles rolling in his head was obvious. His acting was poor, his expression lacked sincerity, and he had less patience and composure than others, so it was bound to show.

“Really? I’m touched, man. My heart feels warm. Oh, and here too.”

Kwon Hyeongdo pointed downward. A crack appeared in Ijin’s expression.

Without missing the opportunity, Kwon Hyeongdo grabbed Ijin’s face and shoved his tongue in.

The small bead that Ijin found repulsive roamed inside his mouth, scratching and tickling everywhere as it rubbed against his tongue. It seemed to be a habit of his.

When the bead rolled against the mucous membrane inside his cheek, tickling him, Ijin struggled wildly. His fragile patience snapped instantly. His resistance didn’t last long.

“I told you, stop it, you bastard!”

As Ijin pulled away, shuddering, Kwon Hyeongdo tilted his head. Ah… even though his clumsy attempts at being coy were amusing and cute, this kind of defiance was far more entertaining.

Kwon Hyeongdo scratched at Ijin. He was like an allergy—pressing Ijin’s loose emotional control switch and tickling his suspicions just by existing.