FT 3

A woman in a plain white T-shirt and jeans, with long straight hair, caught his eye.

Even from a distance, she stood out. Despite her simple clothes, she was unmistakably striking. Her vivid features didn’t fade under the flashy lights of the club—so much so that it made one curious whether she would shine just as brightly out in the darkness beyond.

From above, things that wouldn’t be noticed on the ground were easier to spot. For instance, a couple of women glancing over warily, as if guarding their territory… or the group of men who’d been whispering and fidgeting amongst themselves for a while now.

But that wasn’t the issue.

Behind him, Junggeon asked curiously,
“What are you looking at so intently?”

Taebaek didn’t respond right away. His gaze narrowed slightly.

“Nothing.”

Just something pretty.

He muttered it under his breath.

“Then why do you look so serious?”

“It bothers me.”

“That woman?”

Junggeon looked puzzled.

“She doesn’t fit in. Not at all—not here.”

Like oil in water.

His voice was tossed out casually, but there was weight behind it.

The woman didn’t suit the club. Anyone could see it—how out of place she was. It wasn’t just her distinct looks or plain outfit, it was her presence. Even beneath the harsh, strobing laser lights designed to cloud people’s judgment, her gentle expression remained unchanged, untouched—out of sync with everything around her.

“You like pretty girls though, don’t you?”

His tone turned casual, even familiar—he seemed genuinely confused. No one knew Taebaek better than Junggeon. Though he now worked as Taebaek’s personal assistant and helped manage the club, the two had been inseparable since they were kids.

Taebaek gave a rough chuckle deep in his throat.

“I do like pretty things.”

As long as I can keep them beneath my feet.

He let the bitter thought echo inside.

The thrill of pulling something beautiful from its pedestal down to his level—there was nothing quite like it. The higher the fall, the sweeter the satisfaction of crushing it underfoot.

But that was all.

To Taebaek, romantic entanglements were nothing more than a pleasurable pastime—no more, no less.

“You think she’s going to be a problem?”

Junggeon’s brow furrowed slightly as he mulled over the earlier situation, speaking in a flat tone.

“Who knows. Guess we’ll see.”

Taebaek let out a dry chuckle. He wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions or get worked up over things that hadn’t happened yet—far from it. And yet, he gave a vague, evasive answer while still unable to tear his gaze away. Junggeon glanced at him in confusion.

As Taebaek continued to brood, the woman stood up, helping her friend along as they left their seats. His eyes lingered, fixed on her long black hair swaying above her back.

Then, as if snapping out of it, Taebaek’s gaze returned to its usual sharp focus. His deep-set eyes narrowed, and a dry scoff escaped his lips. Junggeon, picking up on the shift, scanned the colorful lights of the club with a sharp look.

“What’s wrong?”

“…Fucking hell.”

Clack. With a curse, Taebaek flicked his cigarette ash without care.

Amid the massive crowd, a man had approached the bar counter, glancing around nervously. Then, at the exact spot where the woman had just been sitting, he dropped something into her unattended drink. Even from afar, his actions were clearly suspicious. The meaning was obvious.

“Who the fuck do you think you are pulling that shit in my club?”

Taebaek muttered through clenched teeth, annoyed, and headed straight for the office door. Junggeon quickly lifted his radio.

The guards, acting on orders, tailed the man. The capture was swift—he turned out to be a just-turned-twenty punk. As the guards dragged him away, the guy started making a scene.

“Hey! Let go of me, dammit! I said let go!”

The guards locked the door of a VIP room and surrounded the guy. He kept shouting, trying to act tough despite the obvious fear written on his face. But the moment Taebaek entered the room and slammed the door shut, his face went pale.

“Taebaek hyung!”

He tried to act friendly, but Taebaek recognized him immediately. The kid had started coming to Blossom the moment he turned legal—a third-generation chaebol from a major securities firm in Yeouido. Filthy rich, and just as immature. A textbook case of a spoiled rich kid. Lately, he’d been booking VIP rooms every weekend, practically living at the club, which had already drawn their attention.

Maybe he realized how screwed he was, because the brat who’d been so cocky just seconds ago now clung to Taebaek like a whining child.

“Ah, come on, hyung. Just let it slide this once. Please.”

Taebaek roughly ran a hand through his hair and pulled out his phone, replying half-heartedly.

“Mm. No.”

“Aw, come on—!”

“‘Hyung’? Since when? What, did my dead dad have the power to sow seeds from beyond the grave or something?”

His voice was casual, but the air around him was as cold and dangerous as a blade ready to strike. Taebaek rolled his neck and shrugged.

“You’re not going to report me, right? I’ll pay. Whatever you want. If my parents find out, I’m seriously fucked. Please, yeah?”

“And yet here you are, you snot-nosed little fuck, trying to spike someone’s drink. Can’t even get it up without drugs, huh? Is your dick that defective? So trash that you need help just to get it in?”

Taebaek’s bored gaze dropped to the guy’s crotch. His tone had lost even the barest hint of politeness. It felt like a blade was being held to the kid’s throat. Trembling, the guy instinctively covered his groin, but then, clearly fed up, he suddenly shouted,

“Wait—just wait a damn second!”

He raised his hands and shook his head as if trying to calm things down.

“You know what? This is bullshit. I dropped hundreds here tonight, and you can’t even overlook one little thing? You think it’s okay to treat a paying customer like this? Huh? I’m helping your bottom line, damn it!”

Taebaek bent down to meet his eyes. The brat’s cocky glare wavered, his bravado faltering. As the guy instinctively flinched, Taebaek looked away and gestured with his chin.

“Just hand him straight to the cops.”

“Yes, sir.”

One of the bouncers responded swiftly. As he moved to relay a message over the radio, the guy suddenly shouted, as if making one last desperate attempt:

“Fuck! Let go of me! That—that’s not some cheap street drug like GHB or whatever! Don’t you know what a tranquilizer is? You mix it with alcohol, it just makes you feel a little tipsy and good, that’s it! It’s totally safe, it was prescribed at a real hospital!”

Ha. Taebaek let out a dry laugh. It was a smile completely devoid of emotion.

“And I’m supposed to believe that crap right now?”

“Uh, Director.”

“What.”

The bouncer who had been speaking into his radio quickly bent at the waist in urgency.

“We’ve got a problem. Someone already drank that drink.”

“Who?”

Taebaek, his expression turning icy, turned and stepped closer. The sudden increase in his looming presence made the bouncer instinctively step back. Though the man had broad shoulders, Taebaek’s sheer physical pressure overwhelmed in all directions. With a furrowed brow, Taebaek pressed again.

“Who drank it.”

“They—it looks like it was one of the women who were sitting there earlier… We checked the CCTV footage. One of them, already pretty drunk, was about to down the whole thing, and the other tried to stop her. But in the scuffle, the second one drank it herself in a fit of anger. Then she helped her friend up and they exited out the back door of the club.”

“You serious right now? You were supposed to take the trash out before it starts rotting.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Shit.”

Taebaek cursed under his breath and moved quickly. It had to be that woman—the one from earlier. He could’ve sent the guards after her, but the moment he realized it, his body was already in motion. He estimated the distance from the back door to the main road where cabs would be.

Then, without breaking stride, he asked over his shoulder:

“You sure it wasn’t a drug? It really was just a tranquilizer?”

“I swear! That’s all it was!”

“Hey. Get a photo of that bastard and circulate it to the boys. Snap his ID too and send it to me.”

“Understood, Director.”

“Wha—what? A photo? Even my ID? Wait, why?!”

“Why do you think?”

Taebaek let out a short, scornful laugh.

“Because I’ve got this nasty personality quirk—can’t fucking stand it when someone tries to screw me over and then sleeps like a baby after.”

With those final words, he stepped out of the VIP room.