Can Murder Be a Workplace Accident? Chapter 3.5

Parties for newly minted adults overflowed with alcohol, blistering music, and sometimes drugs, and people would hook up like animals the moment they made eye contact. Namgung Tree, caught up in the mood, took the hand of a female student who showed him favor—one who was drunk enough to commit to an impulsive act of sex, but sober enough to express refusal—and entered an empty dorm room.

He had no such thing as a fantasy about his first time. He was young, and a serious relationship was something for the distant future. They shared a wet kiss, and after he took off her top and rubbed her bare skin, he tried to pull down her pants, but she pushed his shoulder.

‘Are you drunk?’

‘No.’

‘Then are you a junkie?’

‘I don’t do drugs.’

‘What’s the problem?’

She sat up, her face a mask of irritation. Namgung Tree, abruptly banished from her ample chest, also sat up with a frown.

‘What’s your problem? The mood is great. If you don’t want to stop, can’t we just do it?’

‘Can you even do it?’

She scoffed as if he were pathetic and forcefully grabbed Namgung Tree’s dick over his clothes.

‘Look at this. It’s as soft as jelly.’

‘That hurts! If you grab it like that, even a hard-on would go soft!’

‘I brought you here thinking I’d get to fuck you since you looked so big. Damn it, what a waste of time.’

She clicked her tongue as she found the t-shirt crumpled in the bed and pulled it on. To her, as she stuffed her bra into her back pocket, he protested, ‘It’s not getting hard because you’re not sexy,’ but he was only met with ridicule.

This can’t be right. Is it because it’s my first time?

She was sexy by anyone’s standards.

A former cheerleader and prom queen, she had captured the gazes of not only the men but also the women at the party. And the one who had made a grand entrance, enjoying everyone’s envy and jealous stares, thinking, The person sleeping with that hot body tonight is me, was none other than Namgung Tree.

She flung the door open and shouted.

‘This room’s free! You can use it.’

The moment the door opened, a couple, tangled together as one, rushed in. They took over the bed and, like cuckoo chicks pushing warbler chicks out of the nest, kicked Namgung Tree, knocking him off the bed.

‘Fuck. It gets hard just fine when I watch porn. Why is it like this in a real situation?’

After glaring at the couple, who were busy sucking and licking each other, a resigned Namgung Tree picked his hoodie up from the floor and put it on. When he walked out awkwardly, she was already kissing another man.

This same thing happened a couple more times. Wondering if he might be gay or bisexual, he even went into a gay club and came out holding the hand of a reasonably good-looking man. Somehow, they made it as far as a kiss.

The result was despair. Namgung Tree’s dick, at the critical moment, went pffft and deflated.

What am I supposed to do? It’s less arousing than jerking off by myself.

His sex drive was overflowing, but dating wasn’t easy. It’s platonic. Holding each other is better than sex. I’m a firm believer in celibacy before marriage. He spouted ridiculous lies and was dumped every time.

That’s it. I’m so sick of this, I’m not doing it anymore.

And so, since becoming an adult, he had lived as a man harmless to all, spending his long, long nights alone.

“You’d be lucky if you’d at least failed. That means you at least got to start, right?”

Bae Taemin winked mischievously, taunting him to the very end.

“Just shut up.”

The paper cup in his hand hit the wall behind Bae Taemin and fell. The two grown men bickered like high school boys.

“Let’s talk while we eat.”

He chuckled and handed the menu that was in front of his seat to Namgung Tree.

“Pick whatever you want. You can even order the most expensive thing. It’s a new menu our chef developed, so I’m curious about the reviews.”

“I don’t have time to chat over a full course. Just give me anything I can eat quickly. And no wine.”

Namgung Tree pushed the menu back without even looking at it.

“You little bastard, bitching even when I’m offering it for free. Fine, fine. Have it your way.”

Just as when he had ordered water, Bae Taemin went outside and gave instructions to a server. It seemed he was determined to serve a full course meal, even though Namgung Tree had asked for something that would come out quickly.

At the absurd instruction to bring all the dishes out on one table at the same time because he had to eat quickly, and not to serve them in order, the server couldn’t hide his bewilderment, saying the chef would not like it.

“Fuck, I’m the owner. In my own establishment, do I have to worry about what the chef I hired thinks?”

Bae Taemin slammed the door shut and returned to his seat, fuming. Ignoring the unfunny little skit, Namgung Tree sat slouched in his chair in a slovenly posture and stared blankly at the ceiling fan spinning overhead.

“So, who is it?”

“Who is what.”

“Who got you hard?”

“Wasn’t that conversation already over?”

Today, everyone he ran into was as persistent as a leech. Bae Taemin looked at Namgung Tree with suspicious eyes.

“…It was a person that got you hard, right?”

“Hey, you son of a bitch! Of course I’d get hard over a person, what else would I get hard over?”

“Well, you know, you could get turned on by a car. People’s fetishes are diverse…”

Bae Taemin raised both hands and shrugged.

“You think you can just say anything?”

Namgung Tree glared, thinking of Min Isak, who was probably lying on the director’s office floor right about now.

“Are you mad? I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.”

He apologized again, but another curse followed. It was a curse directed not at Bae Taemin, but at himself.

No matter how important the appointment was. I’m not a cruel person who would abandon someone who fainted.

The reason he had scrambled out of the director’s office was that his dick, which had been silent for over a decade, had reared its head like a viper, its eyes bloodshot with hunger for prey. And for the second time, in front of Min Isak, no less!

The first time, he hadn’t been sure.

It was after he had choked Min Isak, telling him not to conduct his business in such a vile manner. On the way back to the director’s office, he had to cover the front of his pants, which had become taut enough to burst.

Faced with this phenomenon that had occurred as suddenly as a car accident, Namgung Tree had simply concluded that he had mistaken his desire for dominance for sexual desire.

Theoretically, it was a perfectly plausible explanation.

Don’t they say that rape and murder are the results of a warped desire for possession and dominance? On top of that, he had been living in a state of frustration for more than half his life, ever since puberty, so his sexual desire for others was on the verge of exploding.

It had to be that. It had to be.

It had to be that, but! The second time he saw that tear-streaked face, Namgung Tree’s lower body had become hard and swollen, surging with righteous fury like the clenched fist of a revolutionary.

It was the biggest it had ever been in his life.

Furthermore, today’s situation had nothing to do with a desire for dominance.

You mindless dickhead!

No matter how starved you are, you should know what you can and can’t eat!

If you eat something like that, you’ll die. You’ll die!

Of all people, it had to be Min Isak. It was absurd. The explanation that he had gone crazy from sexual frustration was more realistic.

A subordinate, and a crazy bastard who worked while selling his body.

Objectively speaking, his face was decent. His boyish, youthful features, combined with a sharpness that suggested he had weathered all the storms of the world, created a face with a strange sort of beauty.

The problem was that he scrunched up his face like he’d chewed on a bug every time he saw him, but honestly, he was pretty. He had to admit that his face was, at least, aesthetically pleasing.

He was so damn pretty that it reminded him of the prank in high school when he’d falsely confessed that he liked him.

When that face crumpled with tears, a symphony of skin tones unfolded in his mind.

The fantasy, learned from text, pictures, and videos, and then embellished, was quite graphic. He pushed the sniffling man to the floor, stripped off his clothes, and took his body. The sobbing moans echoed vividly in his ears.

He wanted to see that distorted, weeping face with his dick in its mouth. Just once would be fine, if only he could somehow…

Ah, damn it. Namgung Tree hastily crossed his legs.

I’m not a pervert!

The second time became the third time. This time, with just a thought.

“Hey, hey. Are you even listening to me?”

Bae Taemin tapped the table sharply. His hand, which had been propping up his chin, slid down. Pulled back to reality in an instant, Namgung Tree blinked his eyes slowly like a cow.

“What were you saying?”

“We were in the middle of discussing expanding the business. You bastard, that’s why we set up this meeting today. …Are you that thrilled about getting hard over a person? Fine, then spill it. Who is it?”

If he brought up Min Isak, Bae Taemin would surely scoff again, calling him a “good-for-nothing beggar.” Even in high school, Bae Taemin hadn’t liked Min Isak very much.

“It was a person. Happy? Let’s talk business. What business is it?”

“Yeah. I’m thinking of opening a small boutique hotel.”

Bae Taemin glanced up at Namgung Tree.

What. A request for an investment? I shouldn’t have come.

Namgung Tree’s expression soured as he got up from his seat without any lingering attachment.

Even if they were childhood friends, a no was a no.

“You’re already running a bar and a French bistro, that’s two places, and now a hotel on top of that? Can you even do it?”

He would rather spend all his money himself and shout ‘binge-spending spree’ than invest in a close acquaintance’s business. Spending money foolishly under such a pretext would, with high probability, leave only the money behind and ruin the relationship as well.

“If you’re asking me to invest, I decline. I don’t have that kind of money.”

“You worry too much. If you knew how many meetings I have lined up with investors after this meal, you’d be begging me to let you in.”

It’s not a proposal for investment, so just eat and go. Bae Taemin pulled Namgung Tree by the sleeve.

Come to think of it, it had been a while since they ordered lunch, but the food still hadn’t arrived. It wasn’t as if they’d gone to Incheon Airport to pick up ingredients coming from France.

“I’ll eat and leave right after.”

Namgung Tree flopped back into his chair.

“If you’re not asking for money, why did you want to meet?”

“I’m planning to buy a few pieces from your gallery after getting some recommendations.”

“Buy?”

Pulling his chair up close, Bae Taemin rubbed his hands together, his eyes shining. Though he was the one paying for a service, he was acting like someone who needed to attract investors. He leaned forward and lowered his voice as if letting Namgung Tree in on a secret.

“The concept for the boutique hotel is ‘A Night with an Artist.’ I’m planning to buy artworks to hang not only in the lobby and hallways, but in the guest rooms as well, and I can’t just hang any old piece, can I?”

“Are you only looking to buy paintings?”

“No. Including sculptures. Video work or installation art is fine too. While I’m at it, it would be great if you could introduce me to an artist who could decorate an entire room.”

From the gallery’s perspective, which needed to sell artworks, it was a very profitable proposal. According to the long-winded plan, the income would be equivalent to participating in a mid-sized art fair.

“Who would I ask for something like this if not you? Would I scam a friend? Or do I lack a discerning eye?”

Right? Bae Taemin smirked, raising his water glass as if for a toast.

Since proposals to sell paintings came in even when he did nothing, making money was truly easy. That guy could also just sit still, so why was he going around selling his body as if he himself were a product? The pathetic behavior came to mind. Namgung Tree shook his head to clear the distracting thoughts and continued the discussion about the business.

“So what kind of artworks would you like me to recommend?”

“Something you know is ‘it’ the moment you see it. Something that looks good in photos, either with someone or on its own, to post on social media.”

Namgung Tree tapped the table, thinking of artworks.

“For example, something like Roy Lichtenstein’s8) ‘Happy Tears’ or Injun’s9) ‘Crying Child’ series?”

With their strong color contrast, they were works that were, so to speak, very photogenic. They were so memorable that they were hard to forget after one look, so he thought they were appropriate for Bae Taemin’s request.

“Are you crazy? You want me to hang a crying face in a hotel room? No matter how famous the painting is, a crying person’s face in a hotel that will obviously be visited mainly by couples? Are you a real pervert?”

Bae Taemin, with a horrified expression, rejected Namgung Tree’s recommendation flat out.

“What on earth is wrong with you today?”

“I don’t know either!”

Namgung Tree was also going crazy, wondering why he was acting like this. Should I really go see a fortune teller? He was so lost that even absurd thoughts came to mind.

No, that’s not it. Could it be that I’m attracted to all crying faces?

Namgung Tree looked at Bae Taemin. Come to think of it, he had never seen Bae Taemin cry. Since their middle school days when they hung out together, he always had a smirking face.

“Hey. You, cry.”

“Huh? You want me to cry? We’re in the middle of talking business, what are you suddenly talking about? …Sniffle, sniffle. Happy now?”

He made a childish sound and pretended to wipe away tears with his clenched fists.

“No, not like that. With some tears.”

“Are you nuts? I didn’t even cry like that when my grandfather passed away!”

Bae Taemin pointed his finger at him wildly.

“I’m not telling you to wail, just a little more… Ah, you know that thing…”

Just as he was about to recall the almost-there sensation and give specific instructions about the crying sounds and pose, knock, knock, a sound came from the door. The two men shut their mouths at the same time.

“The food’s here, the food. Just eat your damn food and get out of here.”

“Don’t be like that, just try crying for me…”

“Shut up, you bastard.”

He waved his hand as if fed up and cursed. Because of that, the person entering the private room stopped dead in his tracks.

“What is it? Hurry up and set the table… Huh?”

Bae Taemin turned his head.

The person who entered was not a server, but a tall, thin man in a chef’s uniform. The man, wearing a white uniform with stains here and there, looked angry at a glance.

“Chef Choi, why are you in here? Where’s the lunch? Isn’t this your busiest time?”

The man called Chef Choi pushed his cooking goggles up onto his forehead and glared at Bae Taemin with a deadly look in his eyes. They didn’t look like a restaurant owner and his hired chef. It was a strange power dynamic.

“Hoo. Are you the owner who ordered the course meal to be brought out all at once, sir?”

The chef’s question was like that of a strict teacher confirming a student’s wrongdoing. Overwhelmed by his presence, Bae Taemin momentarily shrank his neck like a turtle.

“Ye-yes, I am. Is something wrong?”

“If you wanted to eat a meal served all at once, you should have gone to a Korean set-menu restaurant. To have a full-course meal served all at once? What kind of place do you think this is, to do such a vulgar thing?”

“I said I’d eat a little of each at once because I don’t have time, and what, vulgar? Can’t I even do that as I please in my own restaurant?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that every single step of the course order is calculated? We agreed you wouldn’t touch things concerning the food, as that’s the chef’s authority!”

The chef, apparently quite angry, snapped at him in informal speech. Befitting someone who lived by fire and knives, there was no backing down.

“That’s when you’re serving customers. I’m the one eating, so why is the chef making a fuss!”

“My food has to be the same no matter whose mouth it enters!”

Chef Choi threw down the clear goggles he was wearing on his head. At this rate, it looked like the two were about to have a go at it, regardless of who was watching.

Lunch was a mess, and his dick was a mess.

It was clear he wasn’t going to get to eat.

His mind was also a mess with curiosity about crying faces. It was surely a jinxed day.

Whistle.

A sharp whistling sound cut in between Chef Choi and Bae Taemin. As if on cue, they both turned their heads toward the source of the sound. Namgung Tree raised his hand with a brazen expression.

“Did you say Chef Choi?”

Chef Choi jutted out his chin in place of an answer. Namgung Tree pointed a finger at Bae Taemin.

“I’m this bastard’s best friend… Do you think you can end this by just fighting with words? This guy, he doesn’t lose with words.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“How about you hit him once?”

At the absurd suggestion, both men’s eyes widened.

“Birds of a feather flock together, a pair of lunatics.”

Chef Choi stared at Namgung Tree with a dumbfounded expression. Likewise, Bae Taemin next to him shouted in a voice full of bewilderment and annoyance.

“Hey, you! Are you crazy? Why are you telling him to hit me? The one who deserves to be hit is Chef Choi!”

“What? Deserves to be hit? I came to call you out on your ridiculous actions, and you say I deserve to be hit?”

Watching a fight really is fun.

Namgung Tree fanned the flames, pouring oil on the fire.

“Just avoid the face when you hit him. Don’t worry about the settlement money. I’ll cover it.”

He even took out a black card from his wallet and waved it, winking at him. Seeing the card, Chef Choi’s eyes narrowed like a snake’s.

“You’ll have to take responsibility for those words.”

“Of course.”

Chef Choi rolled up his sleeves. His forearms, toned by a kitchen knife, were so thick they looked awkward. His tightly clenched fist looked like it could squeeze juice from a stone and then some.

“Na-Namgung Tree. Are you serious? Hey, no matter what, how can you tell him to hit a friend. Try and stop Chef Choi. This guy’s eyes have gone crazy right now!”

“I’m serious. It would’ve been better if you’d just cried when I asked you to earlier.”

“Hey!”

“He said he has a meeting with investors, so avoid the face. Wouldn’t want his business to fail.”

The black card fluttered like a butterfly’s wings, reflecting the sunlight.

“I’ll handle it.”

With that almost indifferent reply, a large fist flew toward Bae Taemin’s solar plexus. His face turned white as he quickly backed away, but Chef Choi was faster.

A cartoonish scene of his body flying backward did not happen.

“Ugh!”

Letting out a sound of retching, Bae Taemin clutched his stomach and rolled on the floor.

“Such a drama queen.”

Chef Choi, who had pulled his fist toward his own torso at the last moment, sneered. It was a punch so strong that if it had landed properly, he would have passed out without even letting out a groan.