Chapter 7

“It doesn’t seem like that kind of thing.”

A creature hunter? The ones who travel in groups, hunting creatures and taking commissions?

Jaekani had seen them once. They were all hulking figures with bulging muscles, drinking alcohol as if it were water, and laughing loudly with booming voices.

Hmm, no, no.

Jaekani shook his head firmly. That’s not it. But then again, if it wasn’t some shadowy kind of occupation, what else could it possibly be?

Still, Jaekani wasn’t ready to give up on figuring out Huikyung’s profession.

“A mercenary? Someone who gets paid to fight, raids villages, and steals food?”

At this suggestion—considered one of the lesser-criticized jobs among the despicable ones—Huikyung raised his hands as if surrendering. His outstretched hand through the iron bars, as if waiting for handcuffs, was pale as ever.

“A nanny. I’m a nanny.”

“…Your profession? A nanny?”

“That’s right.”

Judging by how he carried himself, he would be disqualified from that job.

Jaekani was losing faith in Huikyung.

If he was going to tell lies every time he opened his mouth, especially when the mood seemed ripe for the truth, his path to damnation was assured.

“Let’s move on to the next question.”

Without giving Huikyung the chance to explain or excuse himself, Jaekani turned the page. However, as he read the problem aloud, he bit his lips, hiding them behind the thick pages.

A nanny. It really didn’t suit him. How could he pick something so ill-fitting to lie about?

“Is your father your only guardian? He works at the slaughterhouse?”

After providing the answer and explanation, Huikyung immediately shot a question back. Jaekani, who had been scribbling in his spiral notebook, raised his head. As the wind blew and the candles flickered, the downy hair on his cheeks gleamed white, fading into the shadows repeatedly. The shifting light made Jaekani look like a melancholic child.

“My father’s the only one at the slaughterhouse. I just help out.”

It felt unfair that Huikyung was trying to pry information out of him without offering anything in return. Jaekani wanted to threaten that he wouldn’t answer any more questions unless Huikyung started sharing, but based on his observations, Huikyung seemed like the kind of person who wouldn’t care and would stop asking altogether. That thought felt slightly disappointing. There was no one else in the village who took an interest in him and asked him questions like this.

“What’s your real job, then?”

“Just small errands. That’s what kids my age do. That, and house chores.”

“You do the house chores too?”

“My father can’t do them.”

“Why not?”

The pen, which had been busily moving, came to a halt. Jaekani’s blue eyes turned to Huikyung.

The boy was unaccustomed to such questions. In this tightly knit village, everyone knew what was happening in each household. To the villagers, Jaekani’s father was probably like an old, filthy shoe with an intact sole—trash, but not entirely useless. Something they’d toss out if given the chance.

“Your father is so drunk he can’t even walk straight, so why do you do his work for him?”

“You know my father?”

“I didn’t originally. I just knew his name and face.”

“Then how do you know that the man you knew only by name and face is my father—oh…”

The one who had eagerly explained how unusual his father’s name was… had been none other than himself. Realizing this, Jaekani felt embarrassed at his overreaction and averted his gaze awkwardly.

“He seemed like he couldn’t even control his own body. What’s he done to end up like that?”

“I don’t know.”

Jaekani gave a brief explanation of the village’s rules: someone had to do the job, and if the assigned person couldn’t, they couldn’t live within the village walls.

Not wanting Huikyung to form a bad impression of his father, Jaekani added that while his father might not be a good man, he was still his guardian.

“You’re sentimental.”

At that comment, Jaekani faintly furrowed his brows.

“Me?”

“Yes, it’s possible.”

“What do you mean, ‘it’s possible,’ without any context?”

Resting his chin on his hand, Huikyung smiled softly.

He was definitely over twenty, probably a full-fledged adult.

Yet there were moments when Huikyung smiled playfully. At their first meeting, his smirk had been more of a sneer, and this kind of genuine smile seemed unlikely. But when he grinned without ulterior motives, lifting the corners of his mouth naturally, he momentarily looked like someone Jaekani’s age. Though his eyes were still too deep to decipher.

“Jaekani. A lotus blooms in the mud.”

The boy didn’t know what a lotus was. But the flickering flame reflected in Huikyung’s eyes, the warmth radiating from him, and the boyish smile on his face seemed to explain what a lotus was.

“So, are you saying I’m some kind of lotus?”

What, am I supposed to grow into someone great by overcoming my environment or something? He should just say so instead of using such an embarrassing example. As shameless as this man seemed, he wouldn’t outright compare a boy to a flower… or so Jaekani mistakenly thought.

“That’s right. Your father might be like mud, but you’re a beautiful lotus.”

Thanks to Huikyung, who mentioned flowers without a hint of shame, Jaekani’s cheeks flushed. Calling a boy “beautiful” and a “flower”? Ridiculous. Jaekani grumbled inwardly, only inwardly. Even as he pouted, his cheeks showed no sign of cooling.

No one in the village had ever called him beautiful. Not even his father.

“You’ll be fine.”

Jaekani hadn’t brought up his father for comfort, but in that moment, he felt consoled.

“Yes. I’ll be fine.”

Jaekani could already see it: himself walking here again, even after solving the math problems perfectly. He’d worry about what excuse to make, or whether an excuse was even necessary.

* * *

Today’s distributed meal was sandwiches.

Normally, the village provided a fixed amount of vegetables, meat, and grains to its residents. Occasionally, as a welfare measure, they prepared large quantities of food and distributed it, usually after successful trade deals with other communities or when young men who ventured outside achieved great feats.

Carrying one sandwich for his father and one for himself, Jaekani returned home and unwrapped the crinkling paper. One sandwich was packed with meat, while the other had an abundance of vegetables.

After some contemplation, Jaekani removed a few slices of ham from one sandwich and added them to the other. He intended to bring this adjusted sandwich to Huikyung. Without his father’s permission, the two sandwiches meant for two would now have to be shared among three. But Jaekani felt no guilt; after all, there was a time when his father gambled away their food, leaving them starving for three days.

If his father came home half-drunk as usual, it would be easy to hide this small deception.

Jaekani placed the sandwiches in a cool spot in the house to keep them from spoiling and began his chores. He did the piled-up laundry, watered the garden, and checked if the soap they were rationed was sufficient. Throughout all of this, his gaze repeatedly drifted under the table where the sandwiches were stashed.

A vegetarian.

Was it a lie? Or maybe not? The thought kept gnawing at him.

Huikyung had said his meals were decent, but in a village where even the residents had their vegetables and meat carefully rationed, it was hard to believe they’d cater to a prisoner’s dietary preferences.

Would he like sandwiches?

While beating the carpet and washing the dishes, Jaekani glanced back, like a puppy separated from its mother.

Though unlikely, the vegetables might spoil faster than expected, so Jaekani decided to head to the abandoned building earlier in the evening rather than late at night.

He wiped his water-swollen hands on his clothes and prepared to leave. Stuffing a few candles into his pocket and grabbing a lighter, he was startled by the door swinging open with a loud bang, breaking the tranquility.

Without even looking up from tying his shoelaces, Jaekani already knew who had disrupted the peace. The acrid smell of alcohol gave it away—it was his father, Jaebadi. His sole guardian, wearing a scowl as if he’d been humiliated somewhere.

“Damn it… all the same… cheating bastards… Hah…”

Jaebadi, staggering as he entered, began spewing curses before even greeting his son. His senseless rage and frustration dirtied the living room and kitchen, which Jaekani had painstakingly cleaned. Jaekani turned his attention back to his shoelaces.

“In the end, we’re all the same. All of us, begging and scraping just to survive. Isn’t that right?”

It seemed like alcohol today, not drugs. Jaekani resented his father’s drunken state.

Drugs, depending on the type, could leave Jaebadi calm and relaxed. On those days, he would pat Jaekani’s head and let out hollow laughter. Jaekani didn’t mind those moments and would even linger at home on such days instead of going out.

But alcohol awakened Jaebadi’s bitterness and violence. He would smash perfectly good dishes and sometimes take out his frustration on Jaekani, slapping him across the face. The next day, he would vanish before dawn, unable to muster the courage to apologize.

On those days, Jaebadi would leave wildflowers on the table for Jaekani. Not extravagant, but flowers with hues as if infused with blood and life. Holding them close to his chest, Jaekani’s heart would momentarily go numb.