One Day, A Gangster… Chapter 4.1

Pilsung wasn’t religious. However, he felt he should show some respect to the deity he might encounter in the afterlife, so he had a gold ring made with the deity’s image on it. It was also practical; the ring on his pinky finger packed a punch when he needed to throw a fist during work.

It was highly unusual for Pilsung, a man without faith, to visit a church while on a debt collection round like this. Unsure how to make the sign of the cross, he simply waved his hand over his chest and looked up at the crucifix hanging on the wall in the dim light.

“Ah…. Well, I don’t know how to pray or anything. Just listen to me.”

Gidong, praying with his hands clasped together beside Pilsung, shook his head with his eyes closed at his boss’s words. This was the first time he had heard a prayer begin with “Listen to me.”

Pilsung fiddled with the church ring on his pinky finger, his gaze fixed on the crucifix.

“Please send me a sign, a revelation, or whatever, in Nam Wooyoon’s dream, telling him to date me. I’m begging you.”

“Pfft.”

A stifled laugh escaped Gidong’s throat. A large hand immediately swiped across the back of his head. Gidong squeezed his eyes shut and quickly erased the smile from his face. Pilsung glanced at the now-subdued Gidong and addressed the crucifix again.

“You haven’t helped me since I was a kid. So you’d better grant my wish this time. If you do me this favor, I’ll make it up to this church. You like that kind of thing, right?”

“Hyungnim, are you praying or threatening….”

Gidong was about to interject when the church administrator approached them and addressed them, “Brothers.” Pilsung awkwardly raised a hand to the troubled-looking administrator, but just then, his phone rang loudly, echoing through the church. Unable to finish his prayer, Pilsung got up from his kneeling position and hurried outside.

Gidong followed, opening an umbrella. Pilsung snatched the long umbrella from Gidong’s hand and strode towards the church parking lot, answering his phone.

“I told you I’d call after one more stop… so?”

He stopped abruptly, and Gidong, following close behind, also stopped suddenly. He waited patiently for Pilsung to finish his call, which was unusually long for someone who usually kept phone conversations brief, adhering to the office motto of “Get to the point.”

“…….”

Pilsung’s face darkened as he listened to the person on the other end. The quick-witted Gidong rushed into the rain and started the car.

Pilsung jabbed repeatedly at the automatic door button of the emergency room as if he was going to break it. Impatient with the slowly opening doors, he pushed his way through, squeezing his large body through the gap. He scanned the emergency room beds.

“…Huu.”

Wooyoon was sitting up, an IV drip attached to his left arm. His face, plastered with damp hair, was paler than it had been that morning. He couldn’t tell if it was from sweat or rain.

His heart had dropped when he received the call about Wooyoon collapsing. Small, abandoned things were fragile. They often died easily. Someone small and vulnerable like Nam Wooyoon shouldn’t get sick.

Pilsung touched his bare eyes, remembering he had left his sunglasses in the car, and approached Wooyoon.

“Is your stomach still bothering you?”

“…….”

Wooyoon, who had been staring blankly ahead, slowly turned to look at Pilsung. His bloodshot eyes were nothing new; they had been bloodshot since the day they met. But Pilsung couldn’t ignore the bruised and swollen cheek. He scowled and asked,

“Damn it, what happened to your face?”

“…….”

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

“…….”

Pilsung paced in front of the bed, his large body turning this way and that. Wooyoon stared up at him, his hands on his hips, his breath coming in angry bursts.

“Damn it! How did this happen?!”

Pilsung roared, his voice loud enough to momentarily silence the bustling emergency room. He grabbed Wooyoon’s chin and lifted his face. At that moment, Wooyoon’s arm, the one with the IV, swatted Pilsung’s hand away. Pilsung’s brow furrowed.

“Don’t touch me….”

“What…?”

“Don’t touch me, you thug!”

Wooyoon yelled, his voice colder and harsher than ever before. Pilsung seemed genuinely surprised and intimidated, speechless for a moment.

He should have done this from the beginning. Enduring only made him look pathetic. Now that he was acting fierce, the thug didn’t dare touch him. There had been no need to endure in the first place. His brother’s words about enduring being winning were all lies. Just an excuse to vent his anger.

Wooyoon forced a chilling smile and said to Pilsung,

“What are you looking at?”

“…….”

Pilsung tilted his head slightly, silently observing Wooyoon. Wooyoon was trembling so hard that the IV line rattled against the stand. He kept twitching his lips, his gaze darting between Pilsung and something else, as if he was on the verge of a breakdown, yet he spoke as if he was fearless.

What the hell was going on…?

“Get out of my sight.”

Wooyoon, using informal language for the first time, continued to glare at him. Pilsung, concerned, asked,

“Are you possessed?”

“Wh… what…!”

“Did you eat rat poison?”

He held up three fingers in front of Wooyoon’s stupidly drooping eyes. Convinced that Wooyoon was either possessed, poisoned, or had been given the wrong medication, Pilsung called out to a passing nurse with a serious expression,

“Nurse! I think there’s been a mistake with the injection. He seems to have lost it.”

“…….”

Wooyoon, who had been glaring at Pilsung, reached for the IV needle in his arm. He had been thinking about it the whole time he was being dragged to the emergency room by Pilsung’s men. He would not endure anything anymore.

He would live recklessly. He wouldn’t obediently endure like his brother had told him to. He would do whatever he wanted, like his brother had, and he would use anyone he needed to, just like his brother had used him.

Wooyoon felt a burning heat coursing through him. Having been betrayed by his family, his entire world and only support, he felt he had nothing left to lose, and all his fear vanished. A thug like this alpha? He wasn’t scared. He didn’t care if the thug gutted him right there and then. He had no attachment to life. He didn’t want to live.

He was about to pull out the IV needle when a nurse, summoned by Pilsung’s frantic calls, approached him and said flatly,

“Finish your IV before you leave.”

“……Okay.”

Wooyoon mumbled a reply, released the needle, and lay back down. He watched the busy medical staff bustling around the emergency room.

He had been burdened with a mountain of debt and humiliated by thugs for blindly trusting and following his family, and on top of that, he had been beaten by his landlord. He had no hope or attachment to life, but he didn’t want to interfere with the work of innocent people.

“…….”

“Haa….”

Pilsung, who had been pacing nervously beside the bed, watching Wooyoon, finally relaxed.

He had heard from his men, whom he had sent to watch Wooyoon, that Wooyoon was suffering from severe malnutrition and anemia. It was a good thing he was friends with the hospital director; otherwise, the police would have been called for suspected abuse and assault. He could clearly picture the police dragging him and his men away, accusing them of being alphas without even listening to their side of the story.

He glanced at the slowly dripping IV and sighed again, smoothing back his hair, which had become dishevelled in his rush to the emergency room.

He would take Wooyoon to the clinic after the IV drip was finished and he had eaten. He always took his men there when they were injured. He didn’t like the doctor’s personality, but he was skilled. He was quick at setting bones and could make bruises disappear in three days. Most importantly, he didn’t discriminate against secondary genders, so Pilsung could trust him with Wooyoon.

Pilsung clicked his tongue, looking at Wooyoon’s increasingly bruised cheek. He would have to find out who had dared to touch Wooyoon before taking him to the clinic.

He should warn Gidong first, in case he needed to use his fists….

After Wooyoon finished his IV and had his injured mouth treated, they left the hospital. Thankfully, he didn’t need stitches, but his mouth, rinsed countless times with saline, still stung.

The rain had stopped while he was unconscious, and the sky, though cloudy, was now bright. His hangover was gone. Wooyoon touched his chest and stomach, which had miraculously calmed down.

Hospitals were nice….

He hadn’t been to a hospital since his secondary gender manifested after graduating middle school. No matter how sick he was, he had only ever taken medicine his brother bought from the pharmacy, and even that was only when he was severely ill.

“…….”

The thought of his brother made him angry again.

-It’s obvious, isn’t it? He was taking his frustrations out on his clueless little brother.

Had his brother not taken him to the hospital out of spite, as the thugs had said, and not because he was afraid of his illegal non-registration being discovered? He felt angry and betrayed. He felt sad and resentful, wondering why his brother had treated him that way.

Wooyoon frowned and clenched his fists. He heard a yawn and the sound of someone stretching beside him.

“Haaam, it looks like it’s going to rain again soon. Let’s go eat.”

“…….”

The thug had been right about everything. About his brother being a drunkard, about him not being a good person. And judging by the way he had said he would collect the money from his brother, not him, he must have known his brother was alive all along.

This made Wooyoon dislike the thug even more.

He narrowed his eyes and glared at Pilsung. The thug had been the same at the crematorium. Instead of telling him that his brother was alive, he had just talked about food and forced him to drink. He had wanted to yell at the thug that he didn’t want to eat with him, but he had held back because of his brother. Now, in retrospect, there had been no reason to endure.

Wooyoon stared into the thug’s sharp eyes and said coldly,

“I don’t want to eat with you.”

“I’m eating with you, though?”

“……!”

Pilsung didn’t think he had said anything surprising, but Wooyoon’s eyes widened in apparent shock. He had probably expected Pilsung to just accept his refusal.

Damn, he was pretending to be sleepy again.

Wooyoon’s eyes, glancing at Pilsung with a trembling gaze, slowly drooped as if he was falling asleep. Pilsung, finding his behavior both exasperating and endearing, watched him in silence for a moment.

Wooyoon, his eyes almost closed as if he was about to fall asleep standing up, finally seemed to have found something to retort with. He opened his mouth slightly and said in a firm voice,

“Don’t regret it.”

“Yes, I won’t regret it. So, damn it, let’s go. I’m starving.”

Pilsung, on the verge of losing his patience, was about to head down the hospital steps, eager to get some food into Wooyoon, when a weak tug on his jacket stopped him. He put his foot back on the step and turned to look at Wooyoon. Although Wooyoon appeared to be looking straight at him, his upturned eyes were focused on something beyond Pilsung.

Damn…. Was he really possessed?

Pilsung was genuinely worried that Wooyoon might be possessed by the ghost of Nam Heejai. He wondered if he should have asked Gidong to find a good shaman when he told him to make an appointment at the clinic. Wooyoon’s condition was worrying. He raised his voice slightly, trying to snap him out of it.

“Are your eyes messed up?”

“…….”

Wooyoon stubbornly refused to meet Pilsung’s gaze, ignoring his harsh words. If this had been yesterday, he would have trembled and begged for his life at the thug’s words, but not anymore. The thug would learn firsthand how fearless a person with no attachment to life could be, how hard a cornered rat could bite.

Wooyoon, his hand gripping Pilsung’s jacket tightly, stopping the larger man in his tracks, said coldly,

“Follow me.”

Ignoring Pilsung’s stare, he pushed past him and started walking.

Pilsung watched Wooyoon, his chin propped on his hand, as the younger man folded pink paper napkins into shapes of boats, cranes, and roses, arranging them on the table. What was Nam Wooyoon’s motive in bringing him to this outdated family restaurant? At the emergency room, he had been trembling and snapping at him like he had been poisoned, and now he had suddenly brought him here. Was this a positive response to his dating proposal?

Honestly, Pilsung’s heart had skipped a beat when Wooyoon had yelled “Follow me!” and dragged him away from the hospital, his mind conjuring up a familiar erotic fantasy. The sounds of Wooyoon stifling his sobs had been arousing, but the image of Wooyoon dominating him in bed was even more provocative, making him tingle with anticipation.

Staring at Wooyoon, Pilsung fiddled with the rosary ring on his pinky finger and chuckled. It seemed the deity had answered his prayer. He stroked the embossed image on the ring. So this was why people prayed.

Prayer was a healthy gamble. The thrill of a prayer being answered was as exhilarating as hitting the jackpot at a casino.

As Pilsung watched Wooyoon, a pleased smile on his face, a waiter arrived carrying plates piled high with steak and pasta, setting them down on their table. He brought a few more dishes before leaving.

Pilsung picked up his fork and knife and eagerly started cutting his steak.

He had originally planned to take Wooyoon to a Korean beef restaurant to treat him to some top-grade meat. Red meat was good for anemia. This small piece of meat and pasta at this kind of place wouldn’t be enough. But since Nam Wooyoon had chosen this place for the atmosphere, he would go along with it.

Pilsung, wielding the tiny fork and knife in his large hands, grinned. He remembered Gidong’s surprised expression when he saw Wooyoon leading the way in the hospital parking lot. As expected, signals between two people were more accurate than the observations of others.

He pushed the cut steak towards Wooyoon. Wooyoon, who had been sitting quietly, picked up his fork and started shoveling the pieces of meat into his mouth. It must have been uncomfortable to chew on the injured side of his mouth, but his hunger seemed to outweigh the pain, as he quickly stuffed his cheeks with food.

Less than five minutes later, Wooyoon finished his steak, glanced at Pilsung, and pressed the call button. When the waiter arrived, he ordered another steak. Then, he said to Pilsung in a sarcastic tone,

“Did you think I’d be nice because I’m poor?”

Pilsung, who had been watching in amusement as Wooyoon, who had barely touched the yukgaejang he had bought him and hadn’t even touched the pastries from the bakery, devoured his food, raised an eyebrow at the unexpected question.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I warned you not to regret it.”

“Regret what?”

Wooyoon fell silent at Pilsung’s question. Instead, he started tapping his fork against the empty plate, his hand trembling like he had a nervous tic. Pilsung stared at him, trying to understand what he was talking about, then he finally understood. He covered his eyes with his hand, his gold ring flashing, and chuckled.

After laughing until his scarred neck turned red, Pilsung, still smiling, asked Wooyoon to confirm his understanding.

“Do you think I’ll regret it because the bill is too high?”

Although Pilsung was still smiling, his eyes weren’t. Wooyoon stared back at Pilsung’s fierce gaze, unafraid.

He had brought the thug to this fancy restaurant and ordered expensive dishes to deter him from ever suggesting they eat together again, ignoring Pilsung’s obvious desire to share a meal. The thug had probably intended to use the meal as an excuse to touch him, just like he had done before, but Wooyoon wasn’t the same pushover anymore. The thug must be regretting it, despite his smile.

“Wow, damn. You think Baek Pilsung is a fucking beggar.”

Pilsung felt insulted and hurt that Wooyoon thought he couldn’t afford a few steaks, especially at an outdated family restaurant like this, not even a hotel restaurant.

He was amused by Wooyoon’s absurd reasoning. He asked incredulously,

“How did you even find this shitty place?”

“…I know everything. Did you think I wouldn’t even think of coming here if I didn’t have money?”

Wooyoon replied, lifting his chin slightly in a haughty manner.

He had seen this family restaurant several times on TV, during the morning reruns of popular dramas, while waiting for his brother to come home from work. Scenes where rich protagonists took their girlfriends out for fancy dinners, or wealthy families held birthday parties. This family restaurant had always been the setting. He had always wanted to come here with his brother.

Pilsung stared at Wooyoon, whose drooping eyes, accentuated by his raised chin, made him look even more innocent and pitiful. He smoothed back Wooyoon’s hair and rested his chin on his hand.

“Ah, whatever. Who did this to you?”

Pilsung pointed to his own cheek. Wooyoon’s downcast eyes flashed with defiance. He had thought Wooyoon looked completely different from Nam Heejai, but the way his eyes sometimes flared with defiance, as if challenging Pilsung, reminded him that they were brothers.

“Damn it, whatever.”

Deciding that Wooyoon had no intention of answering that question, Pilsung moved on to the next one. It was the question that had been on his mind all along.

“So… are we dating now?”

“Why do you keep asking me out?”

Pilsung, taken aback by Wooyoon’s sharp retort, glanced around and lowered his voice.

“Damn it, I told you I like you! We even kissed.”

“You forced yourself on me.”

“No, damn it, you started it…!”

“…….”

“Haa, this is driving me crazy….”

Pilsung hung his head and tapped the table with his clenched fist, then looked up abruptly.

“So, are you saying you’re not going to date me?”

“…….”

“Don’t you have any sense of decency? We went on a date, drank together, even got matching phones. We’ve done everything, so you can’t just do this to me now.”

Wooyoon, finally unleashing the feelings he had been suppressing, said to the genuinely frustrated Pilsung,

“I went along with it because I thought you’d kill me if I said no.”

Tap, tap, tap, tap. Wooyoon’s fork clattered against his plate even more frantically. He was trembling like a leaf, but his words were sharp as knives.

“Whether you, an alpha thug, came after me for money or because you like me, it’s all the same to me. It’s scary and I hate it. But I’m not scared anymore. I just hate it. So hit me if you want. Gut me, kill me, do whatever you want.”

“…….”

Pilsung, stunned by Wooyoon’s unexpected confession, flushed red and remained speechless. Although he had been convinced that there were subtle signals between them, he had felt a nagging unease whenever Gidong expressed his skepticism. He had at least expected Wooyoon to have some sort of affection for him.

Pilsung gripped the knife he had placed beside his plate and muttered,

“…I’m not an alpha…?”

At the sight of Pilsung’s hand, veins bulging as he clutched the knife, Wooyoon flinched, his expression hardening with wariness.

He didn’t care if Pilsung stabbed him. He didn’t want to run away or endure things he hated out of fear anymore. Death held no weight for him anymore. If he died, this agonizing anger and sadness would end. What was there to regret in his lonely life? A knife held no threat.

“…Bullshit.”

Pilsung, his gaze fixed on the trembling Wooyoon, who had squeezed his eyes shut, muttered to himself as he cut the steak the waiter had brought. He sliced the meat into smaller pieces than before, making it easier for Wooyoon to chew with his injured cheek, placed the plate in front of him, and stood up.

“I’ll put it on my tab. Eat and go home when you’re done.”

“Wait, I’m not finished.”

Wooyoon opened his tightly shut eyes and stopped Pilsung. Pilsung, who had been about to leave the table, hurt and disappointed, turned back to look at Wooyoon. The lovely face, the one that had captivated Pilsung, a man who had never felt romantic love before, spoke in a small but clear voice.

“I’ll date you.”

Pilsung’s heart leaped in his chest.

“What…?”

“I don’t like you… but I’ll date you.”

His soaring heart plummeted. Pilsung frowned at Wooyoon’s cryptic reply. He fiddled with the gold ring on his pinky finger and addressed the deity.

What the hell is this supposed to mean?

As if in answer to his desperate plea, Wooyoon gave him a baffling explanation.

“Some thugs came looking for me because of the money my brother borrowed. They were going to… harass me, but they mistook me for your boyfriend and left. So I have to be your boyfriend.”

The thugs who had come yesterday had left peacefully, not wanting to cross Baek Pilsung, but they could change their minds and come back anytime. And other thugs might appear. The thug who had tried to pull down his pants had said his brother had borrowed money from various places and had been spreading lies. This meant there were many people looking for his brother. He had no attachment to life, but he didn’t want to suffer at the hands of alphas for something that wasn’t his fault, especially not because of his brother’s actions.

Both Baek Pilsung and the thugs who had come yesterday had tried to violate him, but at least Baek Pilsung liked him. He had said so himself, and Pilsung’s men, who had been guarding his room, had confirmed it. The thug in front of him was the only one who could offer him the protection he desperately needed.

His safety. And….

“And help me find my brother. I know he’s alive…”

He wanted to meet his brother and ask him why he had done this to him. Even if he didn’t get an apology, he wanted to know the reason. He wanted to know what his brother had been thinking, watching him suffer for years, trapped in a small room, malnourished, uneducated, forced to endure the agonizing pain of his heats alone in a closet, unaware that it was all wrong.

“…….”

Pilsung walked back to the table and sat down across from Wooyoon. Wooyoon glanced at him, then gathered all the forks and knives on the table and placed them in front of himself, covering them with his napkin. Still feeling uneasy, he overturned the bread basket on top of them, creating a barrier between the utensils and Pilsung’s reach.

Pilsung silently watched Wooyoon’s busy hands, then called out to him softly, “Nam Wooyoon.”

“So, you’re saying you’ll date me, your personal bodyguard and private investigator, even though you hate me?”

Pilsung smirked and said in a casual tone,

“Damn, I’m not that desperate.”

“…….”

“You’re stupid, your face is pretty, and you have a sexy body, so I like you, but I’m not head over heels for you.”

Pilsung’s smile faded, and he narrowed his eyes, his gaze sharp and intense, completely different from when he had been cutting the steak.

He wasn’t going to be a fool and date someone who hated him. He wasn’t that deeply in love with Nam Wooyoon. He just liked his looks and wanted to sleep with him.

He was baffled by Wooyoon’s audacity in trying to use him, a top-tier thug, so openly. He was almost worried that Wooyoon was possessed by Nam Heejai, spouting nonsense while trembling like a leaf. He briefly considered playing along, amused by Wooyoon’s contradictory behavior, but he knew better.

Pilsung, his gaze predatory, asked,

“How did you know Nam Heejai is alive? You haven’t met him, since you’re asking me to find him. Did you get a call from him? Where is he?”

Wooyoon’s gentle, downcast eyes darted around, flustered by the sudden interrogation. But Pilsung didn’t give him a chance to breathe or think, pressing him relentlessly.

“Did those thugs who harassed you tell you? No, they couldn’t have. I’m the only one who knows Nam Heejai is still alive.”

“That….”

“What did those guys look like? How many were there?”

“W… why should I tell you?”

Wooyoon snapped, placing a hand possessively on the basket hiding the silverware.

“If you’re not going to date me, then leave. Get out… just go!”

Pilsung watched Wooyoon, who was practically hugging the basket, and stood up. He said quietly,

“I liked you.”

“…….”

“Ha.”

He sighed briefly at Wooyoon, who was still looking up at him with a lovesick expression, and turned away without a second glance. He had thought he was about to experience his first love at twenty-five, but it was over. The sting of realizing his perceived signals had been a misunderstanding, the cruel wounds inflicted by someone he thought had liked him, made his chest ache.

Stepping out of the building, Pilsung reached for a cigarette in his jacket pocket, then paused, placing a hand over his heart. Just moments ago, it had been pounding with anticipation of dating Wooyoon. He had imagined having Wooyoon within reach, eating together every day, talking on their matching phones, gazing at Wooyoon’s foolish face whenever he felt tired or stressed. And of course, enjoying his body.

“…Ah, damn it.”

Clicking his tongue, Pilsung headed towards the parking lot where Gidong was waiting, giving up on the cigarette. It was disappointing, but what else could he do? He had to move on.

Back in his basement apartment, Wooyoon propped the broken door against the wall. If the landlord saw it, his other cheek wouldn’t be spared. He wiped the floor, marked with footprints, and stuffed his brother’s pajamas into the leaky window frame.

“…….”

As he rolled up his brother’s pajama top and tucked it into the gap, he paused, his face hardening. Unlike himself, who didn’t distinguish between indoor and outdoor clothes, his brother had three sets of pajamas. The sight of them brought a lump to his throat, a surge of hot resentment.

Looking back, his brother had only ever been cruel to him, yet he hadn’t said a word to the thug at the restaurant when asked about his brother. He had defended his brother with his silence, not mentioning the phone call or the instructions to go to Incheon.

He had vowed to live recklessly, like his brother, without enduring, yet he had foolishly protected the brother who had deceived him, afraid the thug would harm him.

He hadn’t needed to ask the thug for protection or to find his brother. He could have just gone to the police. It would have been the logical thing to do, even if it meant being punished for living as an unregistered omega, rather than asking a thug for a favor.

But because of his brother… because he didn’t know how the burned body was connected to his brother, or what other wrongdoings his brother had committed… he was afraid that if he went to the police, his brother would be severely punished.

Wooyoon felt pathetic and frustrated with himself for prioritizing his brother’s well-being, his eyes burning with unshed tears. He huddled in the corner of the room, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. He had vowed to live selfishly and recklessly, without feeling guilty, like his brother, who had used everyone, including his own family…

“Sob….”

He wanted to hit himself, just like his brother had done whenever he had acted foolishly. His self-reproach turned into resentment towards his brother.

Why couldn’t you just stay with me like that… why did you have to make things like this…. If his brother hadn’t done what he did, he would still be living in blissful ignorance, but at least he wouldn’t be alone….

Late into the night, Wooyoon oscillated between self-blame and resentment towards his brother. His turbulent emotions surged and receded, leaving him feeling alternately hot and cold.

Pilsung, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, plunged his arm into a blue bucket filled with ice water. The ice cubes floating on the surface quickly melted. Gidong poured more ice cubes, bought from the convenience store, into the bucket. Pilsung’s forehead creased as he kept his arm submerged in the frigid water. Gidong, watching Pilsung’s grim expression, couldn’t help but nag.

“Why did you have to use your hand like that during work?”

“Forget about it. How many are left?”

“We finished with the Seogu gang today, so… about five or six left.”

Pilsung nodded and fell silent. Gidong handed him a towel as he pulled his arm out of the bucket and quickly prepared a compression bandage and some pain relief patches. He applied a patch to Pilsung’s hand and wrapped a bandage around his wrist.

The reason Pilsung’s hand was so swollen that it needed an ice bath and a compression bandage was because he had spent the past few days raiding the hideouts of local thugs in his territory, slapping their leaders across the face. All on the right side, the same side as Wooyoon’s injury.

Gidong, ever perceptive, guessed that Pilsung was convinced the thugs connected to Nam Heejai were responsible for Wooyoon’s bruised cheek, whether he had heard it directly from Wooyoon or not.

That’s why Pilsung, a right-handed man, had been stubbornly using his left hand to slap the thugs on their right cheeks. It was a grimly amusing sight to see thugs nursing their swollen right cheeks everywhere he went, as if it were some kind of epidemic.

“Please go home early today.”

Pilsung, buttoning his shirt, glanced down at Gidong. He detected a note of complaint in Gidong’s voice. Knowing that Gidong was always worried about him working late at the workshop, Pilsung held up his swollen left hand.

“My hand is like this, so I’ve been going straight home after debt collection. Why are you nagging me?”

“You’re drinking, hyungnim! Drinking!”

Gidong exclaimed in frustration. Just yesterday, Pilsung had shown up at the workshop reeking of alcohol, claiming he needed to check the packaging, and had nearly gotten his hand caught in the conveyor belt. His men had shooed him away, but Gidong, still worried, had sent someone to follow him, and they reported that Pilsung had stopped by a bar on his way home and continued drinking.

Every night, Pilsung would drink heavily, make mistakes in his usually meticulous debt calculations, and listen to sad breakup songs in the car, adding to the already gloomy monsoon season. Even though he hadn’t officially announced it, the news of Pilsung’s failed attempt at escaping singlehood had already spread throughout the office.

Normally, his men would have teased and mocked him relentlessly, but both the office and the workshop were unusually quiet. No one dared to make fun of Pilsung, seeing how deeply affected he was by his first ever rejection.

Pilsung scratched his forehead, speechless at Gidong’s nagging, then picked up his suit jacket from the office sofa. Gidong looked at him with a doubtful expression.

“You’re going home, right?”

“…I’m stopping by the bar for a bit.”

“Haa…. Hyungnim….”

“I’m not drinking, you bastard. I have business with Han.”

Pilsung clicked his tongue and left the office. Gidong shook his head and followed, still unconvinced.

Tap, tap. Tap. Tap, tap. The persistent noise made Wooyoon’s sleeping face contort slightly. The sound, which seemed to be water dripping at regular intervals or a bird pecking, relentlessly disturbed his sleep.

Finally, he sat up, blinking sleepily, and looked around for the source of the noise. He spotted a crouched figure outside his window. He couldn’t see the face, but he recognized the owner of the shamelessly spread thick thighs. The gold ring, glinting as the hand tapped on the window, gave him away.

Pilsung knocked again, the gold ring tapping against the glass. Wooyoon, not ready to face the thug who had reappeared after a few days, simply watched him.

Pilsung struggled to slide the window open, then gave up and knocked again, then went back to trying to open the window. His brother’s pajama top, which Wooyoon had stuffed into the leaky window frame, was soaked and effectively jamming the window shut.

Wooyoon, watching Pilsung struggle with the window instead of just coming through the broken door, finally rushed over when he saw Pilsung clenching his fist as if he was about to break the glass.

He hurriedly pulled out the soaked pajama top and threw the window open. Pilsung, his hands casually placed on the wet, dirty ground, peered inside.

“Were you sleeping?”

The smell of alcohol emanating from Pilsung, who was practically lying on the ground to look inside, was overpowering. Wooyoon wrinkled his nose and pinched it shut against the stench of alcohol and cigarettes.

What was his motive for coming here? Was he going to hit him because he was offended by his request that day? Or was he going to beat him until he told him about his brother?

…He wasn’t afraid of being hit anymore.

Wooyoon glared at Pilsung, his eyes wide in an attempt to look fierce, though he could barely see him in the darkness. He didn’t care if he got hit a few more times; his life was already ruined. But he didn’t want to be beaten in the dark. He wanted to see where the thug’s fists were aiming so he could brace himself.

He turned on the light, illuminating Pilsung’s profile as he lay prostrate outside the window. Pilsung was so large that only his upper body was visible through the small opening.

“Nam Wooyoon.”

Pilsung, his flushed face pressed against the open window like a dog peering through a narrow gap, adjusted his sunglasses, which had slipped down his nose, with his middle finger and said in a low voice,

“Damn it, I’ll be a fool.”

“…….”

“I’ll be a pushover.”

Wooyoon stared at the thug, who was practically prostrating himself on the dirty, wet ground, confessing his feelings.

“I’ll protect you.”

“…….”

“I’ll find your brother.”

“…….”

“Let’s date.”

A hand, covered in bandages and patches, reached inside the window. Wooyoon looked at the large, thick hand, the gold ring glinting invitingly. He finally recognized the image on the ring, which he had been unable to decipher before. It was the face of a deity.

A thug and a deity… didn’t seem like a good match….

“…….”

Pilsung wiggled his fingers at Wooyoon, who was staring at his hand, making him wait.

“Take it.”

He urged softly. Wooyoon’s downcast eyes finally met Pilsung’s. But that was all. He just stared, showing no intention of answering. Impatience gnawed at Pilsung. He felt like Wooyoon would just stare at him and then run away.

Swallowing against the dryness in his throat, Pilsung pushed his arm further inside the window, up to his shoulder, and wiggled his outstretched hand towards Wooyoon, coaxing him.

“I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you. I can’t get you out of my head. It’s driving me crazy, damn it, what should I do?”

He liked Wooyoon’s face, but he didn’t want to force himself on someone who hated him. He had been ready to give up. But he couldn’t stop thinking about those sad, drooping eyes. He worried about Wooyoon in that dark, moldy room, whether he was eating properly, whether those thugs were bothering him again.

This was the problem with pitiful things. They tugged at his heartstrings. He could take in stray animals or plants, or look after neglected objects, but he couldn’t do that with Nam Wooyoon, and that made him care even more. Pilsung, who had never felt pity for another human being, hadn’t known. That once you started caring for someone, it consumed you, driving you crazy.

“I’ll do anything you say, damn it, just be with me. So take my hand… please….”

Wooyoon stared at Pilsung’s outstretched hand. The large, thick hand was practically begging to be taken. It looked almost pathetic.

Wooyoon slowly raised his hand and placed it on Pilsung’s bandaged palm. The moment their hands touched, Pilsung closed his hand around Wooyoon’s, his thick fingers wrapping around his wrist, pulling him closer, afraid he would slip away.

“We’re dating now, right? Huh?”

“…….”

Pulled to the window by Pilsung’s strong grip, Wooyoon looked at the smiling lips beneath the sunglasses and slowly nodded.

“We’re lovers now, right?”

Pilsung, beaming, asked again, then brought Wooyoon’s hand to his lips. He puckered his lips and kissed Wooyoon’s fingers. At that moment, Wooyoon’s hand jerked away, slapping Pilsung across the mouth.

“Ow! Shit….”

Pilsung clutched his stinging lips and jaw, surprised by the unexpected blow. He touched his mouth gingerly, checking for damage, then chuckled as Wooyoon hid his hand behind his back as if he had touched something unclean. He couldn’t believe he, Baek Pilsung, the top thug, was acting like this just to see that foolish gesture.

“I’m coming in. Stay put.”

“…….”

Pilsung’s large frame disappeared from the window. A whistle followed, then the sound of heavy footsteps bounding down the stairs. He turned to see Pilsung standing in the doorway, grinning and waving.

“Well, it’s been a while since I’ve been in….”

“Take off your shoes.”

Pilsung’s advancing footsteps stopped, and he turned back to the doorway. He took off his shoes as instructed, placing them neatly beside Wooyoon’s sneakers by the shoe rack, and then entered the room, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor. He patted the spot next to him. Wooyoon sat down diagonally across from him. Pilsung muttered, “Brat…,” pushed his sunglasses up, and finally asked the question that had been driving him crazy for days.

“Why did you agree to date me when you could have just run away after I slept with you?”

“…….”

“Whatever. Baek Pilsung is a man of his word, so don’t worry. But….”

He trailed off, pushing his sunglasses up further and lowering his voice.

“Even though I said I’d be a pushover, you have to do your part too. You have to fulfill your duties as a boyfriend.”

Wooyoon, who had been silent until now, replied coldly to Pilsung, who was talking about “duties” like some kind of respectable person,

“…I’m prepared.”

He wasn’t naive enough to believe that nothing would happen after agreeing to date a thug. Despite his lack of real-world experience, he had learned a lot from TV and books. He knew that getting what you wanted came at a price.

He had expected that the thug, who had been groping and licking him at every opportunity even before they were dating, wouldn’t simply grant his request to find his brother. Now that they were dating, he would probably demand kisses. He didn’t want to kiss the thug, but he had done it before, so he could endure it. That was Wooyoon’s calculation.

He had done the math while receiving his IV drip at the emergency room. Baek Pilsung was his best option. Unlike the other thugs who had tried to undress him, Pilsung had stopped whenever he begged, and since he claimed not to be an alpha, he was probably safer than the others.

Wooyoon eyed Pilsung coldly. The thug, sitting cross-legged, his shirt straining against his chest beneath his unbuttoned jacket, his broad shoulders and large frame, looked like a giant boulder in the small room. The sight of him was suffocating.

He still didn’t believe Pilsung wasn’t an alpha… but since he couldn’t smell any pheromones, maybe he was telling the truth….

“There are only three duties you have to fulfill.”

Catching Wooyoon’s anxious glances, Pilsung quickly laid out his conditions before the younger man could change his mind.

“First, don’t even dream of running away. Half the reason I’m agreeing to this ridiculous proposal is your face. If I can’t see your face when I want to, I’ll call the whole thing off. Got it?”

Pilsung continued, seeing Wooyoon nod obediently, seemingly understanding.

“Second, answer your phone. You still have the phone I bought you, right? No matter what you’re doing, you answer when I call. And third….”

Here it comes. Wooyoon’s large eyes trembled slightly. The thug was definitely going to make a dirty, indecent demand. It wouldn’t be strange, considering they had become lovers in exchange for his protection and help finding his brother. He could endure kissing, but if it was anything more than that, he would call the whole thing off.

Better to die than sell my body….

Wooyoon swallowed nervously, his gaze fixed on Pilsung’s lips. The bruised lips moved slowly.

“Let me hold your hand.”

“……?”

“Even if I’m being a pushover, I still have to hold your hand. We’re supposed to be lovers.”

“…….”

“What are you staring at? Damn it, do you have a problem with that?”

Pilsung was determined to hold Wooyoon’s hand, even if the younger man objected. Holding hands was the most he could ask for from someone who claimed to hate him. If he couldn’t even do that, then Nam Wooyoon was nothing but a cute-faced devil. Being a fool or a pushover had to have its rewards.

Pilsung, tapping his finger impatiently on the floor, clicked his tongue at Wooyoon’s lukewarm response and stood up abruptly, intending to end the conversation before Wooyoon could refuse.

“Just so you know, I’ll be here tomorrow morning, so be ready to go out.”

“Why?”

Pilsung, touching his now-fading bruised lips, muttered, looking down at Wooyoon, who was sitting on the floor, gazing up at him,

“Why, damn it… I have to spread the word that you’re Baek Pilsung’s boyfriend so those thugs won’t mess with you. And… to brag a little, or something….”

He trailed off, turning as if to leave, then sat back down, shuffling closer to Wooyoon. He spread his long legs, trapping Wooyoon between them, and held out his hands.

“Hey… let me hold your hand before I go.”

It wasn’t a bad deal. Protection from other thugs and help finding his brother in exchange for holding hands. He hated the thought of even touching the thug, but he was in no position to be picky. Wooyoon glared at Pilsung and warned him,

“Just holding hands. I won’t tolerate anything weird like last time.”

He emphasized his point by clenching the hand he had been hiding behind his back into a fist. He had punched Baek Pilsung’s men countless times on the way to the emergency room, and he had even punched Baek Pilsung himself. He had no qualms about hitting people anymore.

He tightened his fist, pressing it against his side. The thug, seemingly intimidated by his show of force, scratched his temple and asked,

“Are you a thug? Why do you always want to hit people?”

“Do you think only thugs like you can hit people? I can hit people too.”

“Argh, scary. Just give me your hand.”

“…….”

Despite saying he was scared, the way he frowned and wrinkled his forehead made him seem annoyed. Wooyoon eyed Pilsung suspiciously, then placed his hand on the thug’s large, outstretched palm. Pilsung took both of Wooyoon’s small hands in his, tracing his fingertips, and said in a tone of wonder,

“How are your fingernails so small…?”

“…….”

“Can you even eat with fingers this thin? Damn, you could use your fingers as chopsticks.”

Wooyoon felt insulted by the condescending remarks. He tried to pull his hands away, but Pilsung, sensing his intention, quickly tightened his grip on his wrists and chuckled. Wooyoon glared at his own reflection in Pilsung’s sunglasses and asked, his voice tight,

“Am I funny to you?”

“No?”

Pilsung answered immediately, squeezing Wooyoon’s hands tighter. Then, his voice softening, he said,

“I’ll teach you how to box later. Build up some calluses here and beat up anyone who messes with you. Don’t just stand there and get hit.”

The thug seemed oblivious to the fact that he would be the first one to get hit. Wooyoon abruptly pulled his hands away from Pilsung, who seemed genuinely concerned.

He was exasperated. He had agreed to this relationship out of necessity, but the thug seemed completely unaware that Wooyoon still wanted nothing to do with him. He was just the lesser of two evils.

As Wooyoon ignored Pilsung’s advice, the thug scratched the long scar on his throat and said,

“The world is a nasty place. You could die at any moment. Don’t hesitate, just hit first. That’s how you win.”

“…….”

“Don’t tremble, don’t endure, just throw the first punch. Got it?”

“…….”

These were words he had never heard from his brother. His brother, who had lied to him, saying that enduring was the only way to win, the only way to survive, was gone. Now, only this thug, who told him not to endure, remained.

Wooyoon stared at Pilsung. His own family had deceived and abandoned him, while this thug, who had barged into his life like a misfortune, was now sitting here, promising to protect him. The thought that he had been less important to his brother than this thug made him feel melancholic.

Pilsung, watching Wooyoon’s unresponsive silence, reached out and touched his bruised cheek. Wooyoon swatted his hand away. After a few more attempts at touching Wooyoon, and a few more slaps on the hand, Pilsung laced his fingers through Wooyoon’s, then quickly withdrew them and stood up abruptly. The lingering warmth of Wooyoon’s hand in his had stirred something within him.

He cursed under his breath and left the room. Wooyoon glanced at the retreating figure, then wiped his hand on his pants, trying to erase the lingering warmth of the thug’s touch.