Yang’s Master Chapter 12.1 - Abnormal Climate

Cheon Yeomyung belatedly came to his senses. What he saw was a scene that looked as though someone had taken the word ‘mess’ and ripped it apart with their hands to spread it out. Cheon Yeomyung unconsciously started to raise his body, then stopped, realizing there was something slimy and sticky underneath him. Under his body, which was covered in semen, he saw that a penis was still inserted between his widely spread buttocks. Cheon Yeomyung slowly pulled out his still half-erect penis. As he did, he saw semen gushing out from the chaotically spread opening, a testament to how long they had been at it.

Besides that, there were many other traces of sex. Semen had dried on his thighs, and handprints remained all over his body, turning into bruises.

“Fuck……”

Cheon Yeomyung pressed his throbbing head. Along with an unpleasant headache, memories of the previous night came flooding back. He had been drugged and had completely lost his sanity. It was a miracle that no blood was shed, but everything else was a complete mess.

Yang Euijoo had been thrust into on the living room floor for a long time, until he sobbed and begged that the skin on his back was chafing and hurting. At that, Cheon Yeomyung dragged him to the sofa, forced him to bend over like a dog, and thrust his hips. Yang Euijoo came with every thrust. From him, whose penis was leaking semen as if it were broken, only intermittent cries of ‘Ah, ah,’ could be heard. By then, one would have thought it was time to stop, but Cheon Yeomyung did not stop. On the contrary, he enjoyed the sensation of the inner walls that were moderately and pleasantly tight due to exhaustion, and he alternately crushed his internal organs and prostate. When Yang Euijoo sobbed that his stomach was going to burst, Cheon Yeomyung shoved his fingers inside him, scraped out the semen, and then came again.

While taking a man’s cock and being penetrated all the way to his colon, Yang Euijoo’s penis had spurted clear fluid several times, soaking the living room floor. It was only around then that Cheon Yeomyung slung the battered body over his shoulder and went into the bedroom. In the bedroom, he had sex again with the unconscious Yang Euijoo. Cheon Yeomyung put his wet penis in Yang Euijoo’s mouth and forced him to suck, ejaculating into his throat however he could. In vulgar terms, under the influence of the drug, his sexual sensitivity had been heightened to the maximum, and he continued to ejaculate a considerable amount. It was a pleasure so profound that he could come just by sliding and rubbing his penis on skin. It was only natural that Yang Euijoo, who had taken all of it, ended up in a mess.

Cheon Yeomyung carefully turned over the completely unconscious Yang Euijoo, who was not moving at all, to check his front. His back was a disaster, and his front was not in any better shape. His limp penis was also a mess, but his torn lips were crusted with dried semen, and his nipples were swollen red, looking as if they were beaded with blood. The most serious parts were his rear, where the cock had been shoved in, and his wrists. Seeing the wrists, which had turned purple and swollen to twice their size, Cheon Yeomyung sighed.

It was a relief that Yang Euijoo had completely lost his mind from the middle of it all. If he had remained awake, it would have been excessively painful.

“Not even a beast would……”

Cheon Yeomyung sighed, rubbing the corners of his eyes. While he did have a taste for messy and ravenous sex, even he did not want to push things this far. Moreover, the fact that he had done it while drugged, with only his instincts remaining, was humiliating. After pulling an all-nighter to deal with backed-up work in Hong Kong and boarding the plane on Saturday, there had been no movement from Hongryong. He thought it was just the old man throwing another ugly tantrum.

He had not slept more than five hours in three days, so his senses were dulled, and he was late to notice the guy with tightly clenched fists approaching him at the airport. You should have just stabbed me with a knife, fuck. Cheon Yeomyung muttered a curse. A knife to the heart would have killed him, but a drug is different. There was a loud incident at the airport.

His subordinates seemed to have tried to handle it somehow, but Cheon Yeomyung’s escape had rendered all their efforts futile. He recalled his own shameful state, running through the night streets as if swimming. In a state that was not even human, he had repeatedly thought only of having to go back before Saturday ended. To think that this was the result of that obsession.

It was always like this. Cheon Yeomyung had no talent for making choices.

A long time ago, when Cheon Yeomyung killed Cheon Homyeong, some of his brothers opposed him becoming the boss. Cheon Yeomyung killed them as well, and spared the brothers who remained silent. Sogang had warned him not to leave any room for doubt, as they too were Cheon Homyeong’s children, but the twenty-year-old Cheon Yeomyung was so foolish that he casually dismissed the warning. Tragedy was always quick to begin.

The executives, including Sogang, trusted Cheon Yeomyung’s cruelty and coldness, which were unbecoming of his age, and he overestimated his own luck and ability.

In the end, he was not even stabbed in the stomach. A bullet did not pierce his chest either. Without losing anything, at twenty-three, he was kidnapped and hung in a windowless basement. Nails were driven into his hands and feet, which were as beautiful as if carved from marble. The old man, Quan, whose hair was already white even then, could not handle the hammer properly. The misplaced hammer blows broke bones and bent joints.

Cheon Yeomyung laughed as he bled onto the clean, white wallpaper patterned with waves. Mercy is not something to be bestowed. Unable to control his limbs, he spat on Quan’s wrinkled face, mocking the foolishness of an old man who, lacking the skill to avenge himself on the father, passed on his vengeance to the son.

When the iron nails were driven into his palms, the sound of the metal being tempered, clank, clank. The sensation of the sharp metal piercing through flesh, bone, and muscle. The rage of betrayal that made him forget the encroaching fear of death.

Cheon Yeomyung, after being miraculously rescued, returned to Edinburgh for surgery and rehabilitation. In the mansion surrounded by beautiful stone walls covered in rose vines where he was born and spent his childhood, Cheon Yeomyung honed himself. And when he could barely move his hands, he returned to Hong Kong.

He had been foolish to spare his brothers. With hands that would not bend properly, Cheon Yeomyung sought a gun. The purge was without hesitation.

The arrogant young master, who had always had a twisted side, let loose after the age of twenty-three. He killed if he wanted, competitively grew his business, and after returning to Hong Kong, he caught and killed one of Quan’s children every year. The endlessly childish, savage, and distorted man, like an incarnation of the devil, belligerently consumed the Hong Kong underworld. He went back and forth between England, Hong Kong, the Soviet Union, and the United States of America. The beautiful man was popular. He wielded the organization with the power his looks gave him and the powerful obsession brought on by his misfortune.

Cheon Yeomyung arrogantly vowed that as long as he lived and breathed, he would never have regrets again. The vow even seemed to be kept quite well as he aged, his business flourished, and he saw the end of his childish revenge.

Everything changed after meeting this ash-colored man. Of course, could it be as severe as the change Yang Euijoo felt? Cheon Yeomyung stared at Yang Euijoo, who spoke of hope even after seeing the dregs of humanity. Indeed, his face was impeccably clean despite carrying a dirty light, but his breathing was unstable.

Cheon Yeomyung hurriedly left the bedroom and rushed to find some clothes to put on. Every time Cheon Yeomy’s body, dressed only in pants, staggered with steps languidly relaxed from the excessive sex, broken objects came into view. The living room was exactly as much of a mess as Yang Euijoo. From the half-open, creaking front door, to the living room floor pooled with a lot of something wet, to the broken telephone, and the radiator was knocked over backward.

“Is it a relief that he only broke his wrists?”

Cheon Yeomyung thought that he needed to find out what substance he had been injected with and rummaged through a drawer. Finding a disposable syringe, he broke it open, and the man unhesitatingly stuck the needle into a blood vessel. After drawing blood, he sealed the entire syringe.

It was important to draw it before the substance dissipated. If it was highly addictive, he would need appropriate patience for a while. Cheon Yeomyung thought of Yang Euijoo, who would likely not come to his senses until this evening, and walked to the front door. The doorknob was in tatters. The man touched the torn metal plate and screws with his fingertips. The sharp screw wobbled feebly.

“Good morning.”

A gentle greeting poured onto his indifferent face. It was the old woman from across the hall. The old woman smiled brightly and looked at Cheon Yeomyung. He opened his lips, and with a low sigh, offered an apology.

“I am sorry to have caused you an unpleasant experience last night.”

“Hmm?”

Madame Thérèse just tilted her head at Cheon Yeomyung’s words. The sounds of two men having sex must have echoed thunderously throughout this entire apartment, so how could she not know? Cheon Yeomyung looked at the old woman, who was feigning ignorance, wondering if she was hard of hearing and truly had not heard, or if she was pretending not to have heard, then shook his head.

“It is nothing. Have a good day, Madame.”

“You too. Be good to your cute wife today, and come visit our house.”

The old woman let out a mischievous remark and chuckled softly, then closed her door first and went inside. Cheon Yeomyung thought he should look for a new house before Yang Euijoo screamed at him to get out, and went over to the small room. Fortunately, the spare telephone in the small room was safe. Cheon Yeomyung dialed the number and waited for the other person to answer the phone.

―Hello?!

Before the signal could even ring a few times, an urgent voice sounded out.

―Mister? Is that you, mister? You are alive, right, mister?

Linlin called for Yang Euijoo tearfully and desperately.

―I am sorry. We did go to look for you right away. But, well, that, uh……

I guess they left because we were busy having sex. Cheon Yeomyung did not know if his beloved subordinate had left out of immense respect for the boss’s promiscuous sex life, or if they had left because Yang Euijoo was enjoying it so ecstatically, but she was clinging to the phone and crying.

―I am sorry! Our boss is trash, the scum of the earth, a world-class son of a bitch, a bastard, a pig! I will apologize!

Cheon Yeomyung listened up to that point before opening his mouth.

“Linlin.”

―Gasp.

Linlin made a sound as if she were suffocating, then her teeth chattered as she called out to Cheon Yeomyung plaintively.

―Bo-Boss?

“Not boss, but the trash, the scum of the earth, the world-class son of a bitch and bastard you serve, I presume.”

―……

While Linlin sank into despair after having it confirmed, Cheon Yeomyung fiddled with the syringe in his hand and frowned.

“Let us save the useless talk for later. I have drawn the blood, so retrieve it, request a component analysis, and bring another doctor here. And someone to clean the house.”

―Mister is alive, right……?

“He is alive. A mess, but alive.”

Gulp. The sound of Linlin swallowing her saliva was clearly audible. Cheon Yeomyung glanced back at the door. Then he recalled what he had needed when he was twenty-three and had escaped from Quan.

“……There might be aftereffects from the rape, so prepare a counselor in advance as well.”

―Boss!

“Do not shout, just do as you are told.”

Ignoring whatever Linlin was yelling, Cheon Yeomyung put down the phone and let out another deep sigh. The effect of the drug was disgustingly unpleasant. Feeling a pain as if his mind was being completely shaken, Cheon Yeomyung glanced down at his lower body, which still faintly wanted to release pleasure and sexual desire. It was a state that, had Yang Euijoo seen it, he would have shrieked and screamed that it really needed to be cut off.

He even uses a drug just like himself. Quan, how am I going to tear this bastard to death…… Cheon Yeomyung revealed his killing intent without restraint. For a moment, his sinister eyes imagined peeling off the old and disgusting bastard’s skin layer by layer and throwing him into a pigsty, before he returned to the bedroom.

In the bedroom, where the bitter and fishy smell of semen and tears wafted strongly, Yang Euijoo still had not regained consciousness. He first stripped off the messy blankets and threw them outside, then spread Yang Euijoo’s legs. He had no intention of showing the doctor a body dripping with semen. After scraping out the semen pooled deep inside his belly as best he could and wiping the body down roughly with a water-soaked towel, Cheon Yeomyung looked at Yang Euijoo. The unbearable pleasure when he had held down his imploringly thrashing body and thrust into him as if mounting him was so deep it made him shudder. The moment I saw this face I was getting hard and coming, and I was even thrusting, so I probably couldn’t have stopped.

Stupid bastard. Cheon Yeomyung coldly cursed himself as he caressed Yang Euijoo’s cheek. Yang Euijoo let out a thin moan as if even a gentle touch to his body was painful. Cheon Yeomyung silently watched what he had broken.

By doing something so out of character, he had made everything a mess again. Now it might truly be irreversible. Something more terrible than what all the executives had warned him about in unison…….

“……”

With a face still filled with a lingering lust that had not yet subsided, the man pulled down his beautiful lips. A bitter smile clung thickly to them as Cheon Yeomyung leaned down. He gently wiped Yang Euijoo’s face with a wet towel and said quietly.

“I shouldn’t have made that promise.”

“……”

“Sorry.”

Since Yang Euijoo would not hear it, it was a confession that was, if anything, relieving.

🐑

When Yang Euijoo woke up, he realized that his entire body was swollen to an unbelievable degree. Under his arm, there was a paper bag that seemed out of place in the situation. Yang Euijoo stared blankly at the crinkling bag before belatedly looking around the room.

He had thought no one would be there, but there was a man. Cheon Yeomyung was sitting on a chair about a hand’s breadth away from the end of the bed, reading a book. His long legs were propped up on the lower part of the bed, and his bare feet, exposed because he was not wearing socks, were soft and white. On a high table next to his arm, a gramophone was playing. On the soles of his feet, which occasionally tapped along to the romantic and gentle rhythm, he could see the same scars that were on his palms. It had been a long time since Yang Euijoo had seen the scars on his feet.

Yang Euijoo moved the annoying bag from under his arm and sat up. Cheon Yeomyung, seeming to have noticed that Yang Euijoo had woken up, stopped the gramophone. The man was wearing glasses. A thin, long chain attached to the faint gold frames swayed. He looked the same as ever with glasses on. The man, disguised as a refined businessman, slowly folded the legs he had propped on the bed and opened his mouth.

“If you feel like throwing up, use the bag next to you.”

Only then did Yang Euijoo understand the purpose of the bag under his arm. But he did not understand.

“Why?”

“If you experience any negative symptoms like your hands trembling, not being able to breathe properly, breaking out in a cold sweat, or feeling chills, tell me.”

Cheon Yeomyung completely ignored Yang Euijoo’s question and only said what he had to say.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about all of a sudden.”

“If you feel disgusted, have nightmares, or feel like self-harming, tell me that too.”

It felt like he was being treated like a mentally unstable patient. When Yang Euijoo frowned, Cheon Yeomyung suddenly shot up from his seat, still holding the book. Yang Euijoo was startled and flinched. Cheon Yeomyung gave him one cold look, then opened the door and went out.

“Linlin, you go in and take care of him.”

“Mister is awake?”

“Yes. I’m going out to handle some business, so you stay here.”

“Yep.”

The sound of conversation could be heard from the living room. Yang Euijoo sat there with a dumbfounded expression. He felt a strange unpleasantness and anger suddenly boiling up like an active volcano. Like a broken doll, he grabbed the loudly crinkling bag under his arm and threw it on the floor.

Just then, Linlin, who was entering the room, saw what Yang Euijoo did and her eyes widened.

“Should I get you a new bag? Or would you like to go to the bathroom?”

“I’d appreciate it if you could tell me why everyone is treating me like a patient.”

Linlin smiled brightly at Yang Euijoo’s prickly response.

“Your face is deathly pale right now, mister.”

“……”

“You don’t know that you’re trembling, do you?”

Yang Euijoo slowly looked at his hands. They were convulsing intermittently. Yang Euijoo recalled the last scene he remembered and then answered.

“……I don’t feel like throwing up.”

“That’s a relief.”

Linlin nodded her head with an exaggerated gesture and plopped down on the chair where Cheon Yeomyung had been sitting just a moment ago. She twirled her hair with her fingers, glancing at Yang Euijoo.

Yang Euijoo checked his body, which was dressed in a clean t-shirt and pajama pants, then, regardless of whether Linlin was watching, he lifted the hem of the t-shirt and scanned his torso. Bruises were mottled all over his side and chest. It was a clear display of how the man’s hands had held and handled his body. This is the first time I’ve seen a crazy bastard who creates a history of sex with bruises. Yang Euijoo judged that if his upper body was like this, there was no need to look at his lower body. It would be a relief if his internal organs weren’t bruised.

“Is there anything else I need to hear here?”

“I’m sorry, but may I ask how much you remember……”

Linlin asked cautiously. Seeing Yang Euijoo’s bewildered expression, Linlin rolled her eyes again. She truly resented her boss for running away and leaving this uncomfortable task entirely to her.

“I confronted a guy on drugs, got my wrist fucked up, and as you can see, we slept together. Do I need to be more specific?”

“No!”

Linlin shook her head vigorously, as if she really hated the idea. Even though her braided pigtails slapped her cheeks, Linlin shuddered with a look of absolute refusal. It was to the point that Yang Euijoo felt a little sorry.

“Um, it’s all exactly as you remember. Nothing has changed.”

“Is that man okay?”

At Yang Euijoo’s question, Linlin glanced up. His face, quietly asking about another’s condition, was a little hard to read. Linlin looked intently at his pale face and then lowered the corners of her eyes. Yang Euijoo was really a mess. Truly, a mess. Cheon Yeomyung had stayed by his side the entire time the doctor was treating him, and Linlin, as soon as she saw the bruises staining his body, had run away and sat woodenly in a corner of the living room, pretending to supervise the replacement of the broken and shattered furniture. In fact, there wasn’t even a decent place to sit in the living room. She had just run away because this whole situation was scary.

Linlin thought that this is what despair was. What she had seen on Christmas Eve was also a kind of tragedy, but this was of a different nature. Linlin now thought that she wouldn’t be able to stop Yang Euijoo no matter what he did. Excuses, defending someone who had run away, were all luxuries. What could she possibly say? Linlin unconsciously scratched her fingertips. A bad habit she had barely managed to fix after having the back of her hands slapped alternately by Rose Rock and Cheon Yeomyung as a child had resurfaced.

“The boss is fine. There will be some side effects, but he’s a tough man, so he’ll endure it well.”

“The house must have been a mess too. Did you clean all that up, Linlin?”

“Fortunately, the boss is a rich man, so it was handled with hired help. When I arrived, both you and the house, mister, were clean, without anything like, you know. They also said that you, mister, were fortunately not seriously injured, aside from things like bruises. Your wrist, well, it can’t be helped, but… the bone isn’t broken. They said the ligament is stretched, so please be careful with it. Still, the boss stayed by your side until you woke up, mister…, that’s the truth!”

Linlin explained fervently, flailing her arms. Should I be grateful that she was trying so hard to explain that she had absolutely not seen his disgraceful state? Yang Euijoo scratched his head and got out of bed. Thanks to the extensive treatment, there was no major problem with moving his body. There was a dull muscle ache, but it was not at all the kind of pain that felt like his body was being torn apart. Rather, thanks to having slept soundly while drenched in sweat, he felt refreshed in his own way. In his own way.

Feelings and condition were always relative matters. Yang Euijoo asked Linlin, who was just rolling her eyes.

“Where is that bastard?”

“……He went to handle some business, right? He was thinking of tearing Quan apart alive.”

“In Shanghai?”

“No, now that things have gotten to this point, we’re all going back to Hong Kong. There was a commotion at the airport, so it’s a huge mess. We’re planning to return after lying low for a bit.”

At Linlin’s explanation, Yang Euijoo frowned.

The Chinese government did not permit drugs. After the terrible war with Great Britain, China, no matter how rotten it was on the inside, publicly condemned drugs as the devil’s substance and executed anyone involved, regardless of whether they were foreigners or their own citizens. If there had been a related incident at the airport right now, Cheon Yeomyung would have been dragged away as well.

“Is it a problem that can be solved?”

Linlin smiled gently as if she knew Yang Euijoo’s question and said.

“There are many substitutes. Of course, it’s hard to find a man exactly like the boss, but we can get someone roughly similar. We can use colored contact lenses for the eyes. It doesn’t matter if the authorities know he’s a fake, what’s more important to them is the execution to make an example.”

Linlin’s face, smiling as she pointed to her eyes with her fingers, had a rare sense of determination. Linlin smiled brightly every day and was full of charm, but like someone who was involved in the cruel world, she was cold about murder.

“After the two drug offenders who caused a terror incident at the airport are executed, we’ll go back to Hong Kong. Until then, a similar face shouldn’t be wandering around the airport. The boss’s eyes are too distinctive for an East Asian.”

That meant that, in any case, Cheon Yeomyung would be staying in Shanghai with Yang Euijoo for a while. Yang Euijoo nodded at Linlin’s words and walked out of the room. His whole body ached with every movement. It was to the point that his swollen and splinted wrist hurt less.

Big wounds did not hurt as much as one would think. It was always the trivial things that grated on his nerves.

Linlin followed closely behind Yang Euijoo and tilted her head.

“You might not be fully recovered yet, so don’t push yourself. Aren’t you hungry? There’s porridge, should I get you some? There’s fruit too. How about a banana? It’s perfectly ripe.”

Linlin held up a yellow peel of something that was almost devoid of a banana. Yang Euijoo was about to ask why she had eaten only the banana flesh, leaving the peel intact, but he shook his head.

“I’m fine. I just want to go out.”

“What?”

Linlin’s round eyes grew even rounder. Regardless, Yang Euijoo could not stand the boiling feeling inside him. This fucking bastard. If you’re going to turn a person into a mess, you should at least kneel down and apologize in your right mind, but you’re treating me like a victim? Who does he think he is to speak as if he’s bestowing a favor? Who does he think he is? Cheon Yeomyung did not even have the right to do that to Yang Euijoo.

“What do you mean, you’re going out?”

“I mean I literally want to go out. Am I being confined again?”

Linlin’s face turned pale and she let out a shriek, “Hiiik!” Throwing away the two or so bananas that had survived and were dangling, she shook her head wildly. Linlin secretly liked Christmas, but now she hated it as much as her boss did. The scene of the sweet cake cream being ruined on Christmas day and Yang Euijoo stabbing with the knife were mixed together and excessively vivid. She just hated all of it. What happened to the boss after that, how the mansion in the Kowloon Peninsula was half-closed down…, were stories Yang Euijoo did not need to know.

“It’s not like that. You’re not feeling well, where are you going? If you’re worried about work, the boss has taken care of everything…!”

Yang Euijoo did not listen to the end of Linlin’s story as she followed behind him, raising her voice. If he could leave of his own free will, that was enough.

He went back into the room and flung open the closet door. Then he rummaged through and pulled out whatever clothes he could grab and put them on. His clothes had been torn from the incident yesterday or whenever, so he had no choice but to wear the man’s clothes. He pushed aside all the dress pants and found a pair of jeans that were somewhat wearable, put them on, and tightened the belt. As he cuffed the bottom of the pants, a bit more anger welled up. Yang Euijoo roughly tucked the hem of his shirt into his jeans and looked for Linlin. Linlin, who was standing awkwardly in the living room, staring blankly at the ceiling, flinched when she saw Yang Euijoo.

“You-um, are you really going?”

“Am I not allowed to go?”

“No, well…, fine! Let’s go.”

Honestly, it wasn’t her business anymore! Linlin decided she would rather be hated to death by Cheon Yeomyung than to say something uncomfortable to Yang Euijoo.

“Where are my shoes?”

“They’re gone. Everything that was in the living room was thrown away.”

Good job. As Yang Euijoo’s face, standing in front of the entrance, grew increasingly murderous, Linlin quickly brought over a box that hadn’t even been opened yet and opened it.

“I bought them in advance! The boss has been working me like a slave since yesterday…”

Yang Euijoo stared blankly into the box that Linlin showed him. It was a pair of black canvas sneakers that came up to the ankle. Linlin had a bright expression, as if she knew nothing. It was possible that he was the only one who remembered such a trivial thing. Yang Euijoo roughly pulled on the socks Linlin handed him and pushed his feet into the sneakers. The shoes that enveloped his ankles were, as expected, a little too big. He tied the loose shoelaces tightly, but he already felt like the back of his heels were chafing.

“Lead the way.”

Linlin tucked the empty shoebox under her arm and muttered limply.

“Are you okay…”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“Um, but still, aftereffects and all.”

Linlin hurriedly chattered as she scrambled to follow Yang Euijoo out.

“Like needing to get counseling, or developing trauma. It’s awkward to say this, but the boss personally ordered me to find a psychological counselor and have them on standby, for you, mister…”

Yang Euijoo stopped on his way down the stairs and turned his head. He said very firmly.

“I know what you’re worried about, but it’s meddling.”

“…Yep.”

Linlin just shut her mouth. She didn’t know. It wasn’t her fault anyway. The root of the problem was the boss, who had ignorantly forced his way through the door and caused the incident. Linlin just hoped that Yang Euijoo wouldn’t stab himself in the stomach with a knife again, and trudged along, taking him to where Cheon Yeomyung was.

The two of them moved in the opposite direction of the Bund district. Yang Euijoo didn’t care where Linlin was driving and just stared outside. His face reflected in the side mirror was still pale. Yang Euijoo felt an intense hunger. After lying down for two days, he was hungry, in a foul mood, and felt an indescribable annoyance and dizziness at the man’s behavior.

“We’re here. This is it.”

It wasn’t the Bund, with its rows of splendid Western-style buildings, but a place with large warehouses stacked in sections, which at a glance gave a familiar Hong Kong scenery. Linlin opened the door of a warehouse painted in a deep blue. The sunlight piercing through the roof was intense. Inside the dusty warehouse, there were a few boxes covered in tape, several telephones, and a desk. It was an office that looked like it was being used for suspicious activities, no matter who saw it.

“Open the rightmost door and go in.”

Linlin whispered softly behind his back. Yang Euijoo, wearing the slightly loose sneakers, walked inside and opened the door. In the room that probably had the largest window in this warehouse, Cheon Yeomyung was standing. He was leaning against a desk, talking on the phone.

“No, I’ll go in after it’s sorted out. Linlin is…”

The moment Cheon Yeomyung saw Yang Euijoo enter, he seemed a little surprised and then hurriedly hung up the phone.

“Let’s talk again later, I’m hanging up.”

After putting down the receiver, Cheon Yeomyung frowned and looked at Yang Euijoo. The generously sized shirt and jeans did not fit Yang Euijoo. With the cuffs and sleeves rolled up, and the clothes held together only by a belt, he looked less like a modern person and more like someone from around the 1870s, strolling through an apple orchard. To put it nicely, he looked classic; to put it badly, he looked unfashionable and rustic. However, that rustic attire suited Yang Euijoo well. It revealed his gaunt neck without giving the poverty etched on his face a chance to disappear. Cheon Yeomyung stared at that face for a moment and then commanded.

“Get out.”

The first thing he said upon entering was an order to leave. Instead of listening, Yang Euijoo grabbed Cheon Yeomyung’s collar with his one good hand without any warning. Because Cheon Yeomyung was taller than Yang Euijoo, the sight of the two was comical, but no one laughed. Yang Euijoo looked directly into Cheon Yeomyung’s eyes. In the reflection in the golden pupils, his own gaunt face was filled with a mixture of annoyance and anger.

“Fuck, you may be a son of a bitch, but let’s get this one thing straight.”

“…What?”

“That wasn’t rape.”

At the word that came out of Yang Euijoo’s mouth, Cheon Yeomyung’s face hardened. Yang Euijoo tightened his grip on Cheon Yeomyung’s collar.

“Rape is what you did to me in the basement. You fucking bastard.”

“……”

“I really didn’t want to say this with my own mouth because you’re such a dog, but if it had been that fucking bad, I would have at least smashed your head in and run away.”

He did want to strangle him to death because they did it so much, and he did belatedly regret that this was probably not right, but he had no intention of blaming Cheon Yeomyung for everything. Until he lost consciousness, Yang Euijoo’s mind had been firm. Cheon Yeomyung was not in his right mind, he was drugged. And yet, he had tried to come before Saturday ended. Unlike Cheon Yeomyung, Yang Euijoo’s mind was relatively straight.

Regardless of what a bastard and a piece of trash Cheon Yeomyung was, Yang Euijoo did not think that what happened that night was wrong. It just wasn’t anyone’s fault. Rather, it was more appropriate to call it an accident. Cheon Yeomyung slowly blinked his eyes. The man looked a little crestfallen.

“What a great saint we have here. Why, if this time was okay, why don’t you go ahead and say that everything that happened in Hong Kong was okay too?”

The sneering voice was full of thorns. Yang Euijoo let go of Cheon Yeomyung’s collar without hesitation. And he swung his hand. With a rather satisfying and crisp sound, Cheon Yeomyung’s head turned to the side. The man, caressing his reddening and swelling cheek, shifted his eyes to the side. Obliquely, letting his gaze fall past Yang Euijoo, Cheon Yeomyung chattered on.

“Are you done hitting me? If I had known you’d forgive me with just a slap to the cheek, I would have offered my cheek that day too.”

“I couldn’t have hit you then. I felt like I was going to die just from standing.”

Instead of getting angry, Yang Euijoo gave a realistic answer. Cheon Yeomyung’s face instantly turned pale. With just that, the man revealed a blatant expression that even seemed to show regret.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Looking at that colorful expression, Yang Euijoo had a pure question. A question that had already missed its time.

“Why are you blaming yourself for this time?”

“What are you talking about?”

Perhaps moving wasn’t a good choice, as his whole body ached. His wrist, fixed with a splint and bandages, also throbbed. Yang Euijoo tried not to frown and strained his neck.

“You’re not the type of person to have regrets.”

“…If you’re trying to point out what happened in Hong Kong, I already said clearly that I don’t regret it.”

In the office inside the empty warehouse, only the sound of the wind hitting the temporary outer wall could be heard from time to time. Shanghai was also a windy city. Although it was now in decline, that seemed to strangely twist and show the current situation.

“That was my will and my intention.”

Cheon Yeomyung said quietly. Yang Euijoo thought it wouldn’t be strange if the man strangled him right now. A relationship where it would be more fitting for him to draw deep water from somewhere, like in the basement, and push Yang Euijoo in. Rather, what happened in Shanghai was the strange part. Yang Euijoo sighed.

“Then, at the port?”

At Yang Euijoo’s question, Cheon Yeomyung’s expression hardened. For a moment, the man was completely defenseless. Yang Euijoo raised his semi-fixed wrist and lightly pushed Cheon Yeomyung’s shoulder. The broken wrist had no strength in it, but the man staggered as if pushed by a great force. An anxious gaze cut through the air for a hand’s breadth before finally reaching Yang Euijoo. It felt like he was finally seeing his eyes properly.

That is, only just now.

“Why did you make that face at the port?”

Cheon Yeomyung had no answer. He was a man who did not even have the right to answer. Neither of them had resolved the grudge of betrayal.

“If you feel guilty even now, shouldn’t you at least try getting on your knees and begging? Why, are my knees cheap and yours so expensive? I guess running away because you can’t even manage a single word of apology is what you call noble pride.”

Before he could finish his words, Yang Euijoo gritted his teeth against the pain that shot through his entire body. Cheon Yeomyung pulled out Yang Euijoo’s shirt and lifted it up. The bruises, shaped like handprints, were a dark purple. Looking at the mottled skin, as if someone had splattered paint on his body, Cheon Yeomyung held his breath.

He didn’t remember well what he had been thinking at the port. His expression was even more unknowable. Even if Yang Euijoo asked, the words he could answer were only meager. He hesitated for a long time. Cheon Yeomyung pressed his thumb firmly on Yang Euijoo’s mottled bruise. The pungent smell of ointment wafted up.

“Ah…”

Yang Euijoo let out a faint moan and squirmed. A bad thought came to him. Cheon Yeomyung pushed aside the explanation that the drug would have strong aftereffects and leaned down. The jeans Yang Euijoo was wearing were too long, and the shirt was too big. There had always been a difference in their physique, but after the series of events in the basement, Yang Euijoo had become very thin and his body had not recovered properly.

It was all his own doing.

This incident, too, was entirely because Cheon Yeomyung had made a stupid choice. Everyone had advised against moving to Shanghai, and Cheon Yeomyung had been arrogant this time as well. He had repeated the same stupid thing as when he was twenty-three. It wasn’t Quan’s fault. It was Cheon Yeomyung’s mistake.

Cheon Yeomyung, as if swallowing a sigh, kissed the deepest and reddest bruise and then gently pushed Yang Euijoo away. After pushing him into a safe open space so that Yang Euijoo could step back properly, he slowly exhaled.

“Get out.”

“……”

“Go back home and wait.”

Cheon Yeomyung, without listening to Yang Euijoo’s answer, pushed him out of the office and closed the door. The old warehouse made a creaking sound. It was just cold because there was no heating. Bastard. Yang Euijoo glared at the closed door and then turned his back.

The man only had his meals delivered through his subordinates and did not stop by the house. Judging by what Linlin, who appeared staggering with a gaunt face, said, he seemed to be suffering from an excessive workload.

Yang Euijoo could only guess from the morning newspaper delivered to his door every day that Cheon Yeomyung was involved in some, or all, of the recent gangster incidents in Shanghai. The Shanghai newspaper chattered on for three whole days about the story of the drug offender at the airport. Reading the fabricated article that was wrong about everything except the surname, ‘The attacked Mr. Cheon is a Chinese man in his late 30s who had a falling out with a member of his gang while smuggling drugs, and was attacked in retaliation,’ he could only guess at what Cheon Yeomyung was doing.

Yang Euijoo lazed around, spending his time lying on the sofa and just wiggling his toes. It was long after the clock on the wall had passed twelve that he heard the sound of the stairs creaking. Yang Euijoo, who had been dozing, slowly came to his senses.

The lock turned with a rough scratching sound from the keyhole. Yang Euijoo instinctively got up from the sofa.

A strong smell of alcohol wafted from the man, one end of whose beige checkered muffler was undone and hung down long. Cheon Yeomyung looked as if he had been fished out of a vat of alcohol. His eyes were half-closed.

It was a wonder he hadn’t fallen asleep on the street. Cheon Yeomyung, who staggered in, almost fell into Yang Euijoo’s arms after just a few steps. Yang Euijoo, who caught Cheon Yeomyung with only one arm, barely managed to keep his knees from buckling under the weight, which felt like a boulder crashing into him.

“Get a hold of yourself!”

But a person fresh out of a drinking binge was not likely to come to their senses with just a single phrase like that. Cheon Yeomyung swayed and clung to Yang Euijoo. The loose t-shirt was stretched long by an impatient hand.

“Why aren’t you angry?”

Cheon Yeomyung mumbled. He had been drinking a lot with the executives. They all mixed their drinks with determined expressions, as if making a resolution before a final battle. They drank blood-mixed alcohol and prayed for Quan’s death. Cheon Yeomyung drank the most. Barely making it back home, he asked the question he most wanted to ask.

“What I did to you… aren’t you angry?”

The staggering man was too heavy. Yang Euijoo grunted as he dragged him to the bedroom and answered.

“Why would I be angry? I’m not angry.”

“……”

“I had no expectations of you, so there’s nothing to be angry about, is there?”

He had given the answer he wanted, but Cheon Yeomyung seemed even more annoyed. His eyes, clouded by the influence of alcohol, glared at Yang Euijoo. The muffler, which had been hanging precariously, finally came loose and fell to the floor. Cheon Yeomyung’s neck was red. The man, who had never come home this drunk even after all-night parties, was terribly intoxicated and clung to Yang Euijoo.

“You liked me a little too, didn’t you?”

“That’s why I was angry back then.”

At the calm reply, Cheon Yeomyung blinked, looking flustered. He seemed surprised that Yang Euijoo had affirmed some part of it. Looking at the alcohol-soaked Cheon Yeomyung, Yang Euijoo felt sleepy himself and rubbed his eyes. Cheon Yeomyung staggered and straightened himself up. A hand, filled with a cold energy, briefly brushed against Yang Euijoo’s hair.

“That’s why I hated you so much in the basement…”

Yang Euijoo still remembers the despair of that time. He had liked him a little. Maybe he had liked him a lot. It was the first time he had liked someone with such feelings, so Yang Euijoo didn’t know if the magnitude of the emotion was large or small, deep or shallow. Unfortunately, it was largely Yang Euijoo’s fault for being swayed by a little trust and affection, even knowing he was a son of a bitch.

“I told you, didn’t I? I don’t think of it as rape. Rape would be what you did to me in the basement back then.”

“……”

“You even tried to hand me over to those pig-like bastards, didn’t you? You did things like that, so why are you making such a fuss over having some sex while drugged?”

As Yang Euijoo spoke, he felt a strange sensation, as if his throat was choking up. An unpleasant feeling dominated his mind. The miserable feeling he had felt in the hotel room back then, scratching at the door and calling for Cheon Yeomyung, and the emotion he had felt when he had half-given up on even that, came back to him belatedly.

At that time, Yang Euijoo had acknowledged that Cheon Yeomyung was truly a hopeless human being. He had been shattered once in the basement, and apart from the feelings of wanting revenge or retaliation, he came to know that it was foolish to expect any decent morality from him. Getting angry is because you have expectations. There was no reason to be angry at a person he had no expectations for. It was natural for Cheon Yeomyung to use violence, commit rape, and act as he pleased. Yang Euijoo no longer felt anger at such a series of actions.

It was a waste to even use emotions.

“Then, what would it take to make you angry now?”

Cheon Yeomyung, his tongue heavily slurred from being drunk, asked. He had a stupid face, as if he didn’t even understand what he was asking.

“You really are… the youngest, aren’t you?”

Yang Euijoo muttered without realizing it. The useless and even novel self-assertions that Cheon Yeomyung had made until now finally felt plausible.

“What have you been hearing? I told you I was the beloved youngest…”

Every time Cheon Yeomyung spoke, the smell of alcohol was strong. Did he rent a brewery and drink there? It was a wonder he had even made it home. Yang Euijoo pulled Cheon Yeomyung again. Cheon Yeomyung, though staggering, obediently allowed himself to be led to the bed and sat down. He let Yang Euijoo take off his coat and jacket. He even remained still when he touched his gloves. Seeing him submissively offer his hands and feet, Yang Euijoo asked quietly.

“Did you kill your whole family because you were so loved?”

“I didn’t kill them all from the beginning either.”

Slowly, Cheon Yeomyung spoke. The drunk man mixed Chinese and English. It seemed that Cheon Yeomyung was similar to Yang Euijoo in that his nationality was horribly mixed. That’s why Yang Euijoo sometimes felt a rare sense of kinship when looking at Cheon Yeomyung.

“I killed the brothers who opposed me, but I didn’t kill them all until I was twenty. But… the brother I spared out of mercy sold me to Quan when I was twenty-three.”

Who was that again? Cheon Yeomyung frowned, thinking.

“My third oldest brother? Was it my second oldest sister? Did they conspire together…? Anyway, what do you think I was thinking when I was hanging in Quan’s basement back then? I thought my father’s education was right. Retaliation had to be cruel and mercy was shabby, and I had been complacent.”

It seemed that having too many siblings had this kind of drawback. Yang Euijoo, who had never had anything that could be called a family since he was very young, listened quietly to Cheon Yeomyung’s story. The man, as if not having completely lost his mind, would speak in English, then look at Yang Euijoo and switch to Chinese or Cantonese, repeating this several times.

“So I killed the rest of them too. So actually, I’m not that angry at you either. I’m used to betrayal…”

With those words, Cheon Yeomyung kept his lips closed for a long time, before belatedly continuing. The man looked down, seeming a little annoyed. The cheek of his slightly lowered face was puffed out as if he were sulking. He didn’t look like a man who was thirty, now turning thirty-one.

“I don’t like talking about this to anyone. Rather, if the topic came up, I would tear that bastard to death. Do you know that tearing a person to death is harder than you think? It’s even unpleasant because so much blood splatters. But I did it. Back then, I couldn’t sleep properly even if I took sleeping pills. Mei, that is, Mei Wood, also acted as a counselor.”

It seemed that talking about anxiety symptoms or counseling was something Cheon Yeomyung was familiar with as well. Yang Euijoo listened to the story that Cheon Yeomyung slowly spat out and asked.

“Me?”

“To you…”

Yang Euijoo held his breath at the breath that touched his sensitive skin. Looking at the gray eyes that reminded him of the gloomy Hong Kong weather, Cheon Yeomyung raised the corners of his mouth. The smile the man made as he arbitrarily kissed his neck was weak, making him feel frail. A man with a large frame and an elegant bone structure from the start would not be so frail, so it was safe to say that this was the power of his appearance.

“Because I was already angry at you.”

“Locking me in the basement, torturing me, threatening me, trying to force me into prostitution, and lying that you killed Li Su too?”

The man flinched. Then, rolling his eyes, he answered slowly. His gaze avoided Yang Euijoo. Like a child who had done something wrong, Cheon Yeomyung seemed a little frightened.

“That’s right.”

“You tried to kill Mei and the child too, didn’t you?”

“To be precise, I got angry at you because that failed. If it hadn’t, I would have told you someday.”

“Why?”

“Because…”

Cheon Yeomyung, as if sleepy, narrowed his eyes and mumbled.

“Because it seemed like I wouldn’t have to be angry at you.”

Then the man dropped his heavy head onto Yang Euijoo’s shoulder. The man was too big. Yang Euijoo swayed once because Cheon Yeomyung was heavy. At that, Cheon Yeomyung pulled Yang Euijoo’s waist with both arms. A quiet, low voice, still drunk, mumbled as he held the swaying body tightly.

“This is the first time I’ve ever said something like this to anyone.”

“……”

“So just get angry. Why aren’t you angry? You should have been angry from the moment you saw me in Shanghai.”

He momentarily paused while dealing with Cheon Yeomyung’s drunken ramblings. He couldn’t use his left hand, which hadn’t healed properly, so Yang Euijoo lightly touched Cheon Yeomyung’s back with only his right hand. Cheon Yeomyung didn’t move.

“…Are you crying right now?”

He might just die of embarrassment tomorrow. The drunk Cheon Yeomyung mumbled and buried his face in Yang Euijoo’s neck. Even though his stooped back must have been uncomfortable, he didn’t move an inch.

“I don’t regret it… I swore I wouldn’t regret treating you like that.”

Belatedly straightening his back, Cheon Yeomyung’s eyes, speaking stubbornly, were bloodshot and looked like the sunset.

As if that was all he wanted to say, Cheon Yeomyung, with a docile attitude as if he had never been so noisy, lay down on the bed and pulled up the blanket. His face was hard to read.

“Rest for a while, I’ve already told the pharmacy. So don’t run away.”

“…Xuan will be angry.”

At the weak reply, Cheon Yeomyung smiled slowly. The man, with a light smile, really felt like a childish youngest son, just as he had said.

“I heard he was all geared up to fix your terrible spelling.”

“It’s not that terrible…”

“It is terrible.”

Yang Euijoo shut his mouth. Even in his own opinion, everything was a mess. Cheon Yeomyung curled up and closed his eyes while Yang Euijoo watched. The drunk man fell asleep quickly.

The next day, even though Yang Euijoo woke up quite early, Cheon Yeomyung was not in the bed. He had said he might die of embarrassment, so I thought he had finally died, but that wasn’t it. But he didn’t come home either. He wasn’t avoiding Yang Euijoo. Cheon Yeomyung was not a man with such a thin skin, nor was he diligent in his sense of guilt and morality. He really couldn’t come home because he was too busy.