Three Eight-Chapter 11

"I remember the password."

Hongju pressed the numbers on the door lock slowly. 989796. He tapped the star symbol at the end and double-checked to make sure he had entered it correctly.

"Yes, yes, Hongju-ssi."

Doksu nodded. Unlike the other employees at the gambling house, his tone was soft. Instead of barking out, "Hey, you bastard, Hongju!" without a shred of courtesy, he consistently addressed him with a polite "Hongju-ssi."

Unlike the others, who had already checked his age and started speaking informally, Hongju had never asked Doksu any questions.

"Come in."

Hongju stepped inside first. From the entrance, the unmade blanket was immediately visible. The air was thick with the scent of unfinished ramen and uncovered kimchi, sharp and lingering. Choi and the thug weren’t the type to keep things tidy, so cleaning the house was entirely Hongju’s responsibility.

Annoyed, he stomped inside, yanked open the blackout curtains, and pushed the window open. Through the square frame, he could see the snow-covered ground and the parked cars with tires half-buried in white.

"This is better than I expected."

Hongju had no idea what kind of mess Doksu had been picturing, but he seemed oddly satisfied despite the state of the place. Relieved, Hongju halfheartedly tidied up anything that stood out as too messy and continued introducing the place. There wasn’t much to say—he mostly just pointed things out.

"That's the bathroom. Laundry goes over there."

"Do we clean together?"

"Whoever has time does it. We go grocery shopping every two weeks, but mostly we just eat ramen."

"Ohh, I like ramen."

Though Doksu kept throwing in little reactions that interrupted him, Hongju ignored them and simply continued speaking.

"Put your stuff over there."

Doksu’s "stuff" was just a single bag and a shopping bag. Without even taking off his coat, he pulled a pristine suit from the shopping bag. Apparently, Guppping had paid for it as part of his contract. The bastard had bragged about it so much that Hongju had practically memorized how much it cost and how it needed to be washed.

"I'm gonna shower first. The hot water takes a while to come."

"Ah. Alright, then."

The bathroom was freezing. When Hongju turned the faucet, ice-cold water gushed out. He let it run and took a look at his reflection in the mirror. The bruises on his body had started to fade, only to darken into deep purples again. His split lip and swollen cheek were still a mess.

"I thought it was getting better."

Shutting his eyes, he poured water over himself. The icy chill seeped into his skin, washing away his exhaustion.

After shaking the water from his hair with a towel, he stepped out of the bathroom. Doksu was on the phone in a short-sleeved shirt.

"Right now? Ah, I'm just gonna shower and sleep."

The laundry basket was nearly full. He'd have to do the wash after Doksu finished showering. Tossing his clothes into the pile, Hongju pulled down the stiff, dried clothes from the rack.

"If it's okay, I can go with you tomorrow too."

Judging from the conversation, it sounded like Guppping. Hongju’s hands, folding a towel, hesitated. Unconsciously, he listened more closely.

"Aigoo, see you soon."

Doksu ended the call in a playful tone and stretched as he stood up.

"Guppping’s heading out for a game at this hour. Some swimming pool? A construction site? Something like that."

"It's a plywood shack in the next neighborhood."

The abandoned sports center had been deserted since it went bankrupt. The place was so empty and eerie that gamblers had taken to gathering there in groups to set up games.

"Robbing poor old men of their money. Alright, I'm gonna wash up."

Hongju simply nodded and kept folding the towel.

Click. The bathroom door locked, and soon after, the sound of running water filled the air. Hongju, who had been folding and unfolding the same towel over and over, quietly stood up. With careful fingers, he opened the chest pocket of his padded jacket and pulled out his phone. The screen flickered briefly before displaying properly. He hurried into the messaging app.

[Playing hwatu. At the old ocean sports center.]

He clumsily typed the message and sent it before erasing any traces. Just then, a silent message notification popped up on his screen.

[ㅋㅋ]

He tilted his head in confusion. A vibration followed. Was it Doksu’s phone? He tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from and reached for his jacket pocket. The phone Yang Siljang had given him was lighting up.

"Yes."

"You little shit, why the fuck didn’t you answer faster? What the hell’s wrong with your head? Where the fuck are you, moving so damn slow?"Yang Siljang and Guppping had a habit of calling at random times to check his location. Sometimes, it felt like they had tracking devices on him. If he even slightly messed up where he said he was, they'd start cussing him out immediately. Just like now. They had barely waited through a few rings before blowing up at him.

"I'm at the dorm. I was folding laundry."

"Is he with you? He didn’t run off somewhere, right?"Hongju glanced at the bathroom door. The sound of the hairdryer was dying down, so he lowered his voice.

"Yeah. He’s in the shower. Should be out soon."

"Keep an eye on him. If anything seems off, let us know immediately. And answer the damn phone faster, got it?""I got it."

He hung up, irritation flaring in his fingertips.

"Fuck."

But if he wanted to avoid mistakes, he had to stay sharp. Holding both phones, he let out a quiet breath.

The air had cleared a bit, so he shut the open window and pulled out an extra blanket and pillow. By the time he finished, Doksu was stepping out of the bathroom. Pulling his phone from the pocket of his fresh shorts, he tossed it onto the blanket. The screen, fogged with condensation, caught Hongju's attention. Did he seriously take his phone into the shower? Tilting his head, Hongju placed a fresh pillow on the innermost side of the bedding.

"Sleep over there later. The thug won’t be back until the afternoon, so close the curtains when you sleep."

"Got it. But isn't it cramped for three people? That thug guy is fucking huge."

"It's just for quick naps, so it's not uncomfortable."

Only after pressing the start button on the washing machine did Hongju finally lay down on the outermost blanket. After some rustling, Doksu turned off the lights and pulled the blackout curtains shut. Staring at the dark ceiling, Hongju blinked slowly.

"I’m not gonna stay here every day. Just gonna crash sometimes."

If that was the case, renting a cheap motel would be more convenient. But he didn’t feel like continuing the conversation.

"Ah, okay."

Doksu tried talking to him a few more times after that. Hongju responded half-heartedly at first, but his voice gradually faded. Maybe it was the tension finally leaving his body after stepping away from the gambling house, or maybe it was the painkillers finally kicking in, but his mind felt hazy. His blurry vision settled on his padded jacket, crumpled in the corner. His eyes landed on the blackened burn mark next to the zipper, a scar left by cigarette ash.

"......."

What the hell did Mu-gyeong’s reply mean earlier? He hadn’t even gotten the chance to respond properly before Yang Siljang’s call had interrupted him. That thought lingered in his head as he let his eyes close.

The thug, who had said he was going to visit his girlfriend, ended up staying out all night. Doksu had also disappeared, claiming he was going to a sauna to sweat things out. By the time Hongju finally headed to the gambling house, it was late in the afternoon.

Overnight, the snow had piled up even more. The cold seeped through his thin sneakers, numbing his feet. He quickened his pace to escape the chill, but his steps halted at the entrance of the house. His eyes darted quickly, scanning the parked cars.

"......."

Mu-gyeong’s car wasn’t there. Whether he hadn’t arrived yet or wasn’t coming at all, Hongju had no way of knowing. After one last glance around, he stomped his feet at the entrance, shaking off the snow clinging to the soles of his shoes. The clumps of ice turned black as they scattered across the ground. As he climbed the stairs, the muddy water trailing behind him gradually faded.

"You're here, Hongju? Why are you alone?"

"Doksu went to the sauna. The thug will be here on time, I guess. He didn’t come home last night."

Guppping and Yang Siljang were seated side by side, their faces stretched into peculiar smiles as they watched his every move. Their scrutiny felt unsettling. Hongju frowned and ruffled his hair.

"What are you looking at?"

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"Who said we were interested in those guys? Where’s Mu-gyeong?"

"How the fuck should I know?"

His sharp glare deepened the creases in his eyelids. Guppping, utterly unfazed by his mood, grinned as he reached out a hand. His cracked fingers suddenly groped under Hongju’s ass, squeezing firmly. His hand kneaded its way inward.

"Move your fucking hand."

Smack! Hongju swatted his hand away with force. Guppping sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, putting on a mockingly stern expression.

"Hiss, you little shit. Do you act this stiff in front of Mu-gyeong too? When he touches you, you should be spreading your legs and saying, 'Please touch me more, sir.'"

"Oh, so you're finally paying back your debt, huh? About time, considering we raised you since you were a snot-nosed brat."

The two of them were perfectly in sync. When Yang Siljang snickered, his gold tooth gleamed, and Guppping let out a phlegmy laugh.

"Hiss. Should we make a deal? The house runs just fine with the kids we’ve got working already."

"Mu-gyeong probably has expensive tastes. But even rich guys get cravings for cheap junk every now and then, don’t they? Isn't that what this is? What, you think he’d actually spend money on some guy?"

Hongju didn’t want to hear any more of this filthy conversation. If he responded now, it would only fuel their provocations.

"Anything to collect?"

"Ah."

Yang Siljang disappeared into the back room and returned with a few papers in hand—an amateurishly written loan contract and an ID. A sticky note was attached, listing the debtor’s name, address, and contact {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} information.

"Two hundred. First-time borrower, might’ve just forgotten their due date. They’ll probably pay right away, but go check."

Hongju barely glanced at the address before walking out without another word.

Just as Yang Siljang predicted, the debtor paid immediately. The guy had been holed up at an adult gaming café for a few days and had lost track of time. He even bought Hongju a hot coffee, apologizing profusely. From the way he acted, it was obvious—he had just gotten his hands on some gambling money. Hongju didn’t bother humoring him. He took the cash and left.

When he returned to the gambling house, Mu-gyeong’s car was parked outside.

"Guess he’s finally here."

As always, Hongju stomped the snow from his shoes at the entrance. As he climbed the worn-out stairs, faint voices drifted to his ears. Mu-gyeong and Guppping.

"......Did he come in?"

His left ear was damaged, so he couldn’t catch the conversation clearly. But he was sure it was them.

"......."

Something told him he shouldn’t walk in just yet. He stopped and leaned against the railing. Holding his breath, he covered his left ear, straining to hear with his one good ear. The words became slightly clearer.

"Doesn’t seem that bad."

He scratched idly at his split lip, focusing. There should have been a scoff or a moan in response, but instead, there was only a quiet, indistinct breath.

"Sure, he looks bruised up now, but he’s the house's poster boy, you know? Pretty face, young body."

So they had been discussing selling him off earlier with Yang Siljang. It seemed they were actually going through with it. The sleazy persuasion dripped from Guppping’s voice, and Mu-gyeong responded with a laugh.

"This isn’t a brothel, and we don’t sell bodies here. So what’s your point?"

"If the boss is interested, we’re willing to give you a discount. Buy cheap, fuck till you're satisfied, right?"

The words were slurred with laughter, but there was no mistaking it—they were offering to sell him cheap.