KTSR | Chapter 46

“Why did I come in last place? It’s because of you!”

Ijin shouted, his voice cracking.

“Because of you! You kept poking around! I told you not to—I told you not to! I had a race! Damn it, I couldn’t even sit because it hurt. It felt like my legs would tear apart if I spread them, and between my thighs—” he let out a sharp breath, “it felt like it had been scraped with a knife!”

Even after that, his yelling didn’t stop.

Only after a long while—when exhaustion finally caught up to him, leaving him panting—did Hyeongdo, who had been waiting patiently, speak.

“Is that all? Because of my dick?”

“Haa. Haa.”

“Well, your hole was tight. It was even more so that day.”

“That was rape.”

“Thanks for acknowledging it properly. I was worried you might take it lightly.”

A vein popped on Ijin’s forehead. He strode over and grabbed Hyeongdo by the collar. The size difference was so big that he had to look up at Hyeongdo. Even though he was looking down, Ijin didn’t look ridiculous because of those eyes filled with nothing but malice.

Ironically, without the malice, those soft and transparent brown eyes might just look innocent and melancholic.

“Strangely enough, you really do look enticing.”

“Shut up. My life is getting more messed up because of you.”

“If you knew I saved you today, you wouldn’t be saying that, would you?”

Of course, Ijin, who didn’t know about the third son of Banwol Pharmaceuticals, scoffed. He sneered. He wanted to spit.

“Saved me? Saved me from what. Life was already shitty, but since you came, it’s gotten even more exhausting…”

“Hey. How old do you think I am to be talking to me like this? No respect, damn it…”

Hyeongdo chuckled. No matter how hard Ijin grabbed his collar, he didn’t even flinch. Only someone who had strangled a person before would know how much pressure it actually took to make someone suffocate. With ease, Hyeongdo pried Ijin’s hand away, twisted it, and bent it back.

Ijin was about to snap—about to say that no matter how many years older Hyeongdo was, he’d clearly wasted them—but out of sheer stubbornness, he swallowed the scream rising in his throat.

“If it weren’t for me today, you’d have ended up with that sick bastard. You’d have to suck it, put it in your hole. Maybe then you’d realize, ‘Ah, Hyeongdo’s dick was actually decent,’ huh? Should I send you there now?”

Ijin’s face, already contorted in pain, turned ghostly pale. Hyeongdo’s words weren’t just empty threats.

“Annoying…”

Hyeongdo muttered his irritation with another chuckle.

“Why are you acting up like this? If it were anyone else, I’d have plucked out an eye and rolled it around like candy before them. Aren’t you afraid of losing your life?”

Ijin panted, his breath ragged. Hyeongdo glanced down at the helmet lying on the ground and nudged it with his foot. It rolled, clattering as it hit the floor.

Letting out a theatrical sigh, Hyeongdo smirked.

“Can’t we just get along? I don’t want to get mad at you either. Okay?”

Ijin’s mind was boiling over, bubbles rising to the surface until rational thought became impossible. There was no release. He bit his lip hard.

Hyeongdo gripped his cheek firmly, stopping him from recklessly twisting his body—ignoring the strain on his already twisted arm. Even in this infuriating situation, with his lips jutting out like a sulking fish, he looked… cute.

A hollow laugh escaped.

“Cute, you brat.”

Even when Ijin shot him a murderous glare, Hyeongdo didn’t flinch.

”……”

The heat-filled bubbles, trapped with no escape, finally spilled over. Tears slipped from Ijin’s eyes—once they started, they didn’t stop. The first drop was the hardest, but after that, it was easy. As if determined to drain every ounce of heat burning inside him, he cried and cried.

Watching the tears fall, Hyeongdo suddenly flipped Ijin’s eyelid.

“Let go, let go…!”

“How stubborn were you? Your eyes are all burst.”

When he flipped the lower eyelid, the spiderweb-like blood vessels and the bloodshot inner membrane were visible.

Clicking his tongue, Hyeongdo placed his hand on Ijin’s forehead.

“What the hell. Why did you even go to the hospital if you’re just going to get a fever again?”

“I told you, I told you I was in pain.”

He had been in pain for a while. Despite being sick with a cold, Hyeongdo had pinned him down and had his way, pretending to care like a cat pretending to care for a mouse. It was disgusting.

Ijin cried bitterly. It was all because of Hyeongdo. But what was even more heartbreaking was the fact that if he hadn’t ended up in this situation in the first place, he wouldn’t have met this bastard.

“I told you, I told you I was in pain. I was in pain today too. It hurts so much… It feels like my butt is splitting, sob…”

“Butts are already split.”

Saying words that only scratched at one’s insides, Hyeongdo forcibly laid Ijin down on the sofa. With the fever rising again, Ijin was too dizzy to even sit up.

Hyeongdo rummaged through the office fridge and pulled out an ion drink. Originally, it was there to mix with alcohol for a quick buzz, not for nursing someone.

“Drink. Before you end up being carried away while crying.”

“…”

“What? Are you going to act all tragic and not drink because you want to die?”

Ijin glared at Hyeongdo before snatching the can. Even while sick and weak, Ijin’s stubbornness amazed Hyeongdo. He sat on the table and watched Ijin struggle to open the can. Eventually, Ijin managed to open it himself, and Hyeongdo just watched until the end.

“You’re not saying you want to die.”

“…For whose benefit?”

Ijin muttered as he wiped his mouth after quickly downing half the ion drink. Exhausted from his outburst, he collapsed back onto the sofa. The thought of gangster butts having rubbed against this very seat was horrifying, but he endured it. He didn’t want to show Hyeongdo the embarrassing sight of him stumbling if he tried to get up and leave.

”…”

A brief silence settled between them.

In this regard, Hyeongdo was definitely different from the other gangster brats, the ones who didn’t know how to shut up for even a second. Despite his light, flashy appearance, he didn’t find silence awkward.

Ijin, who was neither talkative nor sociable, took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the silence for the first time in a long while.

He didn’t even realize that the calm was thanks to Hyeongdo. It was just… a little comforting. The nerves that had been wound tight without a moment’s rest were slowly easing, the change visible even to Hyeongdo. The furrowed brow softened, and the tension in his lips melted away.

Resting his chin on his hand, Hyeongdo watched the change unfold and thought.

If not for Ijin’s exceptionally striking appearance, jockeys wouldn’t have been called back even if customers brought them in out of curiosity a few times. The Colosseum was never meant to run long-term—it was just a bluff, a flashy catalog Hyeongdo had spread. There was never a grand plan to assign someone to it or extract significant profits.

The goal was simply to introduce them to VVIPs a few times and test their endurance. However, Ijin performed better than expected, and the supply chain turned out to be sloppier than anticipated, making such efforts unnecessary.

In short, whether some sick bastard was interested or not, there was no need to sell Ijin off to anyone.

Watching Ijin’s face, still panting, Hyeongdo frowned slightly.

What a sick bastard… doesn’t even know his place.

Slowly, Hyeongdo lowered the hand that had been propping up his chin. His fingers traced the line of his jaw before falling onto his knee. At the end of an inscrutable hum—just as he was about to reach for Ijin’s face—the door suddenly burst open.

“Hyeongdo, you damn bastard, where are you?”

It was Executive Director Ma.

“How much do you have to disrespect your senior to move without reporting to him? Do you know how much I’ve been running around in Gangwon-do? Should I pluck your eyes out and grind them, or feed them to the dogs, huh?”

Executive Director Ma entered, puffing on a cigarette, not caring that it was indoors, and spat thick phlegm. Hyeongdo, who rose leisurely, didn’t lose his smile.

The nuance was, ‘It’s so noisy I could die. Why is the clattering so loud?’

Even while casually dismissing Executive Director Ma, Hyeongdo lightly nodded his head.

“Do you know what I heard while you were messing around? ‘We can’t inform you of Executive Director Kwon’s whereabouts.’ What kind of bullshit is that? Is this what being a gangster means now? Huh? Do juniors act so damn disrespectful because of their seniors? Isn’t it the seniors who taught them in the first place?”

With a sharp thud, Executive Director Ma slammed his polished shoe against the desk like a child throwing a tantrum. The cheap plywood cracked instantly, a gaping hole splitting through it. Fine dust trickled down, rising in a pale cloud.

“I guess I didn’t teach the kids well. This is on me—my lack of ability. I’m sorry.”

The calm apology, hands tucked behind his back, only fueled Executive Director Ma’s anger.

That attitude. That infuriating attitude—as if he had some solid backing—was what pissed him off the most.

It wasn’t that brat who had been rolling in the alleys with Chairman Choi back when he was still called hyung, not Chairman. It was him—Ma Gijung! Yet now, that senile old man had lost his mind, hiring some brat with unreadable intentions. How could he not be furious?

With a twisted expression, Executive Director Ma strode forward. His suit jacket flapped as he moved, and without hesitation, he raised his hand—slapping Hyeongdo hard across the face.