SU | Chapter 4.8

Yoo Han walked past the locker rooms and entered the main stage area. A strange violet light flashed as if emanating from the ground, and the first floor was crowded with dancing people. On the dance pole, a nude couple was gyrating to the music while the DJ continuously spurred on cheers, altering the club beats. Unaccustomed to being trapped in such direct noise, Yoo Han struggled to collect his thoughts.

He had planned to check the stage before heading up to the VIP rooms, but it was like finding a needle in a desert. No matter how distinctive the target’s hair was, he wasn’t confident about spotting the man among the dense crowd.

‘Let’s go upstairs.’

Quickly giving up on the ground floor, Yoo Han headed for the staircase to the second level, but the smog made visibility poor. The air inside the club, hot and stifling, didn’t make him feel any better. Sticky traces of alcohol clung to the soles of his shoes, and his feet kept getting stepped on, making him feel guilty about the new shoes the director had bought him. Pushed around by the crowd, Yoo Han finally managed to secure a spot at a bar stool in the corner.

“Ha…”

Holding his jumper, Yoo Han cooled the sweat dripping down his forehead. The bartender, his face covered in tattoos, approached shaking a cocktail mixer.

“What can I get you?”

Yoo Han, about to refuse, changed his mind and ordered a beer. His throat was dry despite having done nothing yet. As he fished for the wallet Gu Kangsan had provided, the bartender looked at him strangely.

“You can scan the barcode and pay when you leave.”

“Oh, okay.”

Yoo Han awkwardly smiled and extended his wrist. After scanning the barcode, the bartender promptly filled a glass with draft beer and handed it over.

Yoo Han took a deep gulp, sighing heavily. The music, which had been overwhelming at first, seemed less intense now, and he could hear people’s voices more clearly. At that moment, the man sitting next to him spoke to the bartender.

“He’s here again today, right?”

“Who came?”

“That guy. The one with the cast, limps around.”

“Oh. Is that Lee Sungmin or something, that host?”

Yoo Han wiped the beer froth from his lips and flinched. Lee Sungmin… that name sounded oddly familiar.

“At first, he got kicked out a lot, but it seems he slept with one of the MDs once, and now he gets in through the back door just fine.”

“That guy, really. Why does he keep coming here to sell himself?”

“Well, according to the guy who slept with him, he can’t work at host bars anymore because of his leg.”

Yoo Han sipped the remaining beer, mesmerized by their conversation.

“Doesn’t it disgust you, sleeping with men?”

“Why? Lee Sungmin’s not bad to look at.”

‘Lee Sungmin… Lee Sungmin.’

Yoo Han finally realized that the name was the same as the target he had encountered on his first assignment. Somehow, recalling the disheveled face he had come across made him feel uneasy.

It was a common name, and in a world full of people with the same names, he could have just ignored it, but the descriptions he overheard were so harsh that they made him feel unnecessarily uncomfortable. What was this talk about being lame and a male prostitute…

Rubbing his neck, Yoo Han stood up. He needed to snap out of it and quickly find the target to drag him outside. Dodging the increasingly crowded people, Yoo Han finally found the metal staircase leading to the second floor and rushed up as a guard cleared the way.

There were five rooms in total. Some rooms were open, and the one at the end was shut tight like a secret space. Yoo Han, pretending to look for his party, casually scanned the inside of the rooms.

Inside the spacious room, there was a small stage-like platform in front of the tables, heavily laden with expensive whiskey and fruit snacks flamboyantly plated, where groups of men and women were sipping drinks, lounging on sofas.

The scenery was the same in the four open rooms. There was no man with blue hair. Yoo Han, hoping against hope, reached the door of the last room, and a sinister aura made him tense up again. He swallowed hard and boldly opened the door.

‘Club guards were supposed to help me out here.’

But the moment he opened the door, Yoo Han collided heavily with someone rushing out of the room. A woman in high heels stumbled and stepped on Yoo Han’s foot. Yoo Han yelped in pain, hopping on one foot, while the woman yelled out in annoyance.

“What’s with you! Are you with that bastard? Crazy junkie jerks. I’m going to report all of you, you hear?”

Caught off guard by her sudden scream, Yoo Han was pushed inside by the woman just as someone inside whistled sharply, piercing through the loud EDM beats. The door closed behind Yoo Han as he stepped further inside, and the noise seemed to subside instantly, as if he was underwater. Yoo Han shook his head to regain his senses and looked ahead, only to barely suppress a gasp. There sat a man on the sofa, looking exactly like the person in the photo.

‘Blue hair.’

As Yoo Han blinked, the man lazily opened his eyes and tilted his head, locking eyes with Yoo Han for a brief moment.

The room was not much different from the others he had passed through, except it was noticeably larger and had a glass door behind the sofa, its purpose unclear. Yoo Han scanned the room, trying to relax, but then his gaze fell on the person sitting next to the blue-haired man.

‘…Lee Sungmin?’

Yoo Han swallowed another groan. It was Lee Sungmin, sitting right next to the blue-haired man, the same person from the first assignment.

‘Is it really him?’

Lee Sungmin, ignoring Yoo Han who had just burst into the room, quietly continued to pick at the fruit snacks. A red alarm went off in Yoo Han’s head, the unexpected obstacle threatening to derail everything. The man might recognize him and report him as the guy from the detective agency.

No, what was Lee Sungmin even doing here? Was the conversation he overheard at the bar actually about him? Lame, male prostitute… Yoo Han contrasted the vulgar words floating in his mind with the Lee Sungmin before him. Although neatly trimmed, Lee Sungmin’s hair was longer than a month ago, and he looked noticeably thinner, and more so, his ankle was awkwardly wrapped in a worn-out cast.

“Who are you?”

Just then, the blue-haired man inquired in a sing-song tone, while Yoo Han was still looking at Lee Sungmin’s injured leg. Yoo Han snapped back to the present and opened his mouth.

“Ah, sorry. I think I came into the wrong room.”

The plan was simple. Yoo Han, having entered the room by mistake, would turn around to leave, and as he did, he would casually drop a syringe that was half-filled with methamphetamine. As planned, Yoo Han turned and let the syringe fall from his hand.

Thunk.

“Hey, you dropped something.”

The blue-haired man called out to him just as Yoo Han pretended not to notice and tried to leave. Yoo Han paused, then stooped to pick up the syringe.

“Is it a full dose?”

The blue-haired man asked, and Yoo Han skillfully replied.

“No, half a dose.”

Referring to the amount of meth in the syringe. Thanks to having memorized the slang list for drugs, Yoo Han’s response sounded natural, although his movements were a bit stiff. It was quite unnerving to be alone in a place where no one was on his side, especially with a potentially explosive element like Lee Sungmin knowing his identity. Dressed in branded clothes and his hair neatly done, Yoo Han could only hope that Lee Sungmin wouldn’t recognize him.

“Are you a regular?”

The blue-haired man, showing interest, continued the conversation. Yoo Han turned back to face him.

“Why the informal speech?”

It was a tip from Gu Kangsan. Act as naturally as possible, rude and like others his age who hung out in clubs, to prevent any suspicion. The blue-haired man, surprised by Yoo Han’s remark, burst into laughter.

“Wow, look at that attitude, totally badass. You really did come into the wrong room.”

“…”

“How old are you, by the way? If you’re younger than me, you’re in for a beating.”

Not that he looked like he had the strength to do much in his drunken state. Unintimidated, Yoo Han moved closer to the table. Lee Sungmin, who had been munching on fruit, looked up, and their eyes seemed to meet. Yoo Han did his best not to acknowledge him and instead addressed the blue-haired man.

“I don’t care about age. Are you into this stuff too?”

Yoo Han shook the syringe he was holding. The blue-haired man covered his mouth and chuckled.

“Heh, no. I don’t use it.”

Yoo Han’s face showed a trace of confusion. Huh? He doesn’t use drugs? That can’t be right.

“How do you know about sticky then, if you don’t use?”

“I don’t use it myself. I just enjoy watching others who are high.”

What is he even talking about. Yoo Han looked puzzled and tilted his head, while the blue-haired man gestured for him to sit down beside him.

“Sit down. Since you’re here by mistake, have a drink before you go.”

It was a relief in a way. Yoo Han quickly chose to sit next to him.

“Alright.”

He settled into the space naturally. He sat a step away from the blue-haired man, opposite Lee Sungmin, who was close enough to the blue-haired man to touch thighs.

Just then, the blue-haired man suddenly grabbed Yoo Han’s left hand. Caught off guard by his strong grip, Yoo Han dropped the syringe. The blue-haired man held on as if he could break Yoo Han’s wrist, shaking it wildly.

“What’s this? You’re not a user, are you?”

The blue-haired man’s eyes turned sharp. Yoo Han quickly extracted his hand, his face showing panic.

“What are you doing?”

In those few seconds, his wrist turned red and hot. The throbbing music outside matched the pounding of his heart.

“Your hand and wrist are clean, no ‘highways’ at all.”

The blue-haired man’s sleepy tone shifted to an accusatory one. Highways referred to marks from habitual drug use. Yoo Han’s mind raced, and he drew on all the slang he had memorized to downplay his suspicions.

“Why should I have the Honam Line? Why would I advertise that I’m a junkie?”

Honam Line was another synonym for a highway. The blue-haired man murmured a non-committal “Hmm…”

“You have the syringe but you don’t use it?”

“…”

After a brief silence, Yoo Han sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair, which he had gelled meticulously, messing it up. Not used to it, he inadvertently reached up to smooth it down again. Oops. Yoo Han cleared his throat and composed himself.

“I’m a dealer.”

The revelation that he sold drugs widened the blue-haired man’s eyes instantly. His lips stretched into a grin.

“What? You’re a dealer? You should have said so! I was really suspicious of you.”

Yoo Han’s heart twitched at the word ‘suspicious’. As he bent down to pick up the dropped syringe, his hand trembled slightly. The blue-haired man, pleased, slapped Yoo Han’s shoulder.