The Unbelievers Chapter 1

“Eunseong is still a high schooler. Didn’t you know?”

“Ah, this is driving me crazy. Who hired him?”

“His situation is pitiful, so what was I supposed to do? Besides, the kid has a pretty face, so the customers like him. It’s fine, it’s fine. He can’t report us anyway. Just give him about fifty thousand won and tell him to go to the hospital. Well, actually, isn’t it something that doesn’t even require a hospital visit? It’s more ridiculous to go running to a hospital just because you got hit once.”

“Sigh, fuck. If he’s going to drink, he should just drink quietly and leave. Why the hell is he throwing a fit and laying hands on a kid?”

“Hyung, don’t be like that. Give the kid about fifty thousand won to soothe him, and tell that bastard we’re filing a police report to rip about a million won out of him. This is strictly assault.”

“Is it okay to do that?”

“Whatever, why not? Eunseong lives alone with his dad, but that guy who calls himself a father is total trash, so he can’t make a big deal out of it.”

“What about his mom?”

“I’ve never asked in detail, but she either passed away or ran away from home. Anyway, she’s not around.”

The boss’s sigh and the voice of the manager—who was on friendly hyung and dongsaeng terms with him—comforting him by saying that this sort of thing happens in the liquor business, drifted clearly through the single thin wall. They even ended their conversation by snickering together, saying it wasn’t so bad to get some pocket change like this once in a while.

Looking at his face in the mirror, the corners of Eunseong’s eyes grew red and damp.

To be precise, Eunseong was not an orphan, but regardless, he was a minor and had nowhere else to work if not here. Other places that would hire him paid terribly.

He finished washing away the blood on the corner of his mouth and his cheek, which was swelling up red.

Because the cramped staff restroom was made with a thin partition wall, every conversation held outside could be heard. Only the boss and the manager, who did not use this restroom, were unaware. They didn’t know the fact that every conversation could be heard as clearly as if listening right next to them.

Eunseong rubbed his wet face dry with the back of his hand and stepped out of the restroom.

The customer who hit Eunseong and the boss were raising their voices outside the shop. Upon spotting him, the kitchen manager rushed over, making a fuss.

“Are you okay? Look at your face. Oh my, oh my, your face turned so red. He must have hit you really hard. Oh, seriously. Is he a madman?!”

Seeing Eunseong’s cheek swollen as if he had a large candy in his mouth, the manager grew angry and raised her voice.

“I’m okay. Well, it’s not the first time I’ve been hit.”

Eunseong, the one who was struck, replied nonchalantly as if it were no big deal.

In a bar, just as the manager said, all sorts of things happened. Being told to pour a drink and try it was the polite end of the spectrum. There were people who, when the snacks they ordered were brought out, would get angry and pull a stunt by asking who he was trying to rip off since they never ordered it; there were also customers who would get into fights while hitting on female customers at the next table, breaking tables and chairs in the process.

Humans who would vomit in the corner, humans who would run away without paying, humans who would keep spitting phlegm on the floor while drinking. Humans who couldn’t tell the difference between restrooms and would urinate anywhere.

An incident like being hit today was rare, but not unheard of. However, being grabbed by the collar and slapped was a first for Eunseong.

The kitchen manager turned away, saying she would make an ice pack while tenderly cupping Eunseong’s cheek as if to soothe it. The manager, who had entered the shop after siding with the boss during the scuffle with the customer, spotted Eunseong and approached with a scowl.

“Do you like making things into a big deal? I told you to just pretend to grovel appropriately; why do you have no tact like that?”

“…”

He told me to crawl under the table to find it—how many times was it? He did it three times, so how could I endure it?

Eunseong swallowed the words surging inside him. If he spoke like that, the manager would tell him to quit. If he quit this place, he wouldn’t be able to save money. He had to save up for a security deposit quickly. He had to save money and leave his house—leave his father.

He had decided that even if he couldn’t save the full deposit, he would absolutely leave the house before summer vacation began. It didn’t matter if he found a live-in part-time job, snuck into school to sleep in a classroom, or lived as a homeless person in a subway station. That was how much more desperate he was for money.

Forcing down all the words hitting his throat, Eunseong managed to open his mouth with difficulty.

“I’m sorry.”

“The boss is settling it, so stay quiet. Go stay somewhere out of sight.”

The manager pushed Eunseong’s back.

The problem started when Eunseong was tasked with table service for a pair who appeared to be a couple. The woman, sipping the drink the man poured for her, kept glancing at Eunseong. Her eyes sparkled with interest.

Eunseong pretended not to notice. He was used to such looks of interest, and because the accompanying men usually felt extremely unpleasant in these cases, he feigned ignorance even more. Since there were times when people would pick a fight when his luck was bad, he tended to be consistent in ignoring it even if he saw it. The man, conscious of the woman’s gaze examining Eunseong, reacted exactly as Eunseong had expected.

The man began a lowly display of bravado in front of the woman. Whenever Eunseong brought over soju, the man would intentionally drop something like a chopstick or a spoon on the floor and give orders—not requests—to pick it up. He endured it twice. It was a daily occurrence. He fulfilled the demands without a thought.

However, when he was told to crawl under the table and pick up a chopstick dropped between their legs, he let out a sigh mixed with annoyance, indicating that was enough. It was a sigh of blatant contempt for a level of character that appeared even more pathetic because the man was trying to show off. The man noticed it too.

The man, whose pride was wounded in front of the woman, sprang up and grabbed Eunseong by the collar.

The woman’s actions to stop him, asking why he was being so ignorant, fueled the man’s anger. A forced argument began—how a mere part-timer should do as he’s told, and how he dared to express annoyance or sigh in his presence. When Eunseong couldn’t help but scowl at him in disdain, a fist flew.

The boss, having finished the scuffle with the customer, returned to the shop and looked for Eunseong. Seeing his much lighter expression, it seemed things had been settled easily.

The boss spoke to Eunseong, who was holding a cold wet towel to his cheek.

“I heard the manager did you a favor because you begged so much.”

“Yes.”

“You obviously know this, but if we get caught employing you, our shop will face administrative action.”

“…I’ll be careful from now on.”

“Use this for some pain relief patches. If you have ice at home, massage it with ice. Got it?”

The boss handed over two fifty-thousand-won bills, perhaps having ripped a decent amount of money out of that man. Even though it was time for the shop to close, the swelling on Eunseong’s cheek did not subside and only continued to puff up. It seemed his mouth was torn inside as well, as he tasted a fishy metallic flavor every time he swallowed saliva.

“…The inside of my mouth is torn.”

“Really? Tsk, what a useless bastard. If he’s going to drink, he should just go home and sleep quietly.”

The boss turned his head and grumbled as if looking back at the customer who was already gone.

“I don’t think just patches will be enough.”

“…”

A look that said, “Look at this guy,” swept over Eunseong. He wanted to protest that it wasn’t just a torn mouth but that it hurt more than that, but Eunseong read the room appropriately.

The boss, staring blankly at Eunseong, pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and handed over two more fifty-thousand-won bills.

“I thought you were just quiet, but you’re quite bold. Is this enough?”

“Yes.”

He did not hint that he knew it was a more profitable deal for the boss than for him. Eunseong simply took the bills and kept his mouth shut.

The time he left after finishing his part-time job was usually around three in the morning. Eunseong’s family was not so poor as to worry about their livelihood. The problem was that his father would resort to violence whenever he drank.

When he wasn’t drinking, he couldn’t exactly be called a bad father. But whenever he drank, his father became a dog. Eunseong had now grown to hate forgiving his drunken father because of the father he was when sober. To be precise, he was sick and tired of that process.

He would pity his father who apologized while crying, saying he was sorry and would never do it again, and feel guilty for hating him so intensely the night before—only to be beaten by his drunken father again until his bones nearly broke, at which point Eunseong would pour curses upon himself for having forgiven his father. And then the next day, if his father knelt and begged for forgiveness, it was a repetition of a loathsome situation where he felt pity for his father once more.