The Taste of Lies Chapter 22

The thugs glared at the chief with their eyes bulging, as if ready to pounce at any moment. Unfazed, the chief curled his lips in a mocking smirk at Mr. Shin. Mr. Shin also raised his chin. His pupils narrowed into slits so thin that only the whites were visible, like a snake’s eyes, and he raised his hand to restrain his subordinates.

“I brought only the aces from the Seoul establishments. Is there a problem?”

“Those worn-out old hens… Mr. Shin, you like young, fresh ones too, don’t you? Where would you even use an old hen that’s no good for samgyetang… Tsk tsk.”

Flushed with drink, the chief spewed rude remarks. Glaring murderously at the index finger pointed at him, Mr. Shin shot back.

“Then what would you like me to do? Should I get one of tonight’s guests who looks like a young, fresh thing, ply her with alcohol, and put her in your bed? Just say the word, Your Excellency Chief. We have liquor even more expensive than what you were originally going to have, and I’ll let you play however you like without charging you a cent. Just give the order—how do you want to play?”

“Hey, you, Mr. Shin!”

The chief suddenly shouted. The gangsters moved the women behind their backs. Contrary to the tense atmosphere, the chief was grinning silly. He looked like he was on drugs.

“I’m a cop, so I can’t have any major incidents happening in my jurisdiction. There’s already enough gossip…”

“Then what would you like me to do? Hm?”

“Leave that one behind and get out.”

“…?”

Following the chief’s fingertip, Mr. Shin rolled his eyes. Looking at Sangtae, who was kneeling docilely on the floor, he asked back.

“That one? Our bouncer?”

“Yeah, a bouncer. He’s the one who messed up the most today, right? So he deserves to be punished.”

The chief unbuckled his belt and gave the buckle a sharp tug.

“Ha… What are you going to do with him?”

“You don’t know my hobby?”

“Hobby? Ah, yes. That noble hobby of yours?”

“Noble? Just get the hell out before I lose my mood.”

“Yes, yes. I’m sure you know what you’re doing. Just don’t make a mess you can’t clean up.”

Mr. Shin answered with a snickering grin. The conversation between the two ended there.

The gangsters sent the women out of the room first, then helped the groaning Gicheol and the waiter out. No one extended a hand to Sangtae.

“Ladies, today you owe your lives to that guy.”

“Boss, what do you mean by that?”

“Don’t ask any more questions, just take it that way. Shall we go to the other room and have some cozy fun among ourselves?”

With Mr. Shin’s chatter to the women as the last thing, the door closed. Only the chief and Sangtae remained in the room.

The chief approached Sangtae, who sat slumped on the floor. With the belt wrapped around his hand and a grin on his face, Sangtae felt a sense of déjà vu.

∞ ∞ ∞

It was a face he had seen before.

When and where?

Perhaps he hadn’t seen him in person. Unaware that the chief had raised his hand, Sangtae stared at him intently.

Thud!

Beeee—

Tinnitus rang in his ears. With his fist wrapped in the belt, the chief struck Sangtae’s head.

His vision spun and his stomach churned. He bit his cheek by mistake, chewing the flesh inside his mouth. At the same time, the root of the déjà vu clicked into place.

“The police chief…”

The Munsan County Police Chief, Baek Wonjong.

He was Ma Youngmin’s biological father. Rumor had it he couldn’t resist a woman, and here he was being entertained by the owner of the Mul Nightclub. Baek Wonjong tilted his head at an angle.

“You know me?”

“I saw you… in the newspaper.”

Photographs printed in black and white were insufficient to capture the essence. How could he have immediately recognized him as Youngmin’s biological father just from a newspaper photo? He couldn’t deny that he’d passed his blood to Youngmin, but that was all. The chief he now faced with his own two eyes was utterly repulsive.

“With those eyes that keep staring…”

Another fist flew. Then kicks, kicks, and another fist.

“You little bastard, you’re a tough one. You’ve been beaten like that all this time and you haven’t even begged for your life…”

It wasn’t that he didn’t beg—it was that he couldn’t. His mind had frozen in the face of such immense violence. No protest that this was too much for stealing one bottle of liquor, no thought of escape came to him. Sangtae just endured.

“Huk!”

A searing pain raced across his back.

It was hard to compare to the pain of being kicked by a leather shoe or burned by a cigarette. A shrill scream burst involuntarily from his throat. The chief’s laughter scattered from above.

“Yes, that’s it. You have to scream like that. That’s what gets me going.”

Unwrapping the belt from his hand, the chief whipped Sangtae. The leather strap flickered like a viper’s tongue, turning Sangtae’s back into a rag.

“Scream more! Louder!”

With each full-force lash, Sangtae screamed. The chief unzipped his pants and pulled out his genitals.

Sangtae was horrified. He hadn’t just passed his blood to Youngmin. The bushy-haired organ was as thick as a child’s forearm, too big to fit in one hand. Stroking his cock, worn and darkened to the color of blood sausage, the chief wore an ecstatic expression.

Even amid the terror, Sangtae shuddered with revulsion. The chief’s hobby was masturbating while beating others. Sangtae realized too late why Mr. Shin had said those things to the women. What a truly noble hobby.

The chief walked up to Sangtae. His menacingly erect cock twitched and bumped against his lower abdomen. He grabbed Sangtae’s hair, exhausted from the repeated beatings. Sangtae was dragged up limply.

“You’re going to make me feel good, right?”

Throwing Sangtae onto the sofa, the chief stood over him with his legs spread wide. A pre-ejaculatory cock was thrust before his blurry eyes. The chief rubbed his oozing cock across Sangtae’s forehead, nose, and eyelids, then suddenly grabbed his chin and pulled it down, forcing his mouth open. The foul-smelling cock shoved into his mouth.

“Suck it well. Do a good job and I’ll make sure you don’t end up as an unclaimed corpse.”

“Uu… Ugh!”

The chief grabbed Sangtae’s head and began thrusting his hips. The glans, the shaft, split his soft palate and invaded his throat.

Physical shock compounded with psychological shock. His flailing arms and legs couldn’t reach the chief.

“Our… pretty son. Is this your first time using your mouth? Daddy… hnn, want me to teach you how to squeeze your throat?”

“…!”

A palm pressed down on his Adam’s apple. The large, soft hand gradually increased pressure. A thick cock shaft in his throat, a palm on his neck. His nose and eyes were constantly stabbed by coarse pubic hair.

A musty, oily smell arose.

It hurts.

I can’t breathe.

His rapidly fluttering soles kicked wildly at the sofa. The sound was like the flapping of a small bird caught under a predator’s paw.

“Fuck, that’s good…”

The chief let out a moan. His hip thrusts quickened. Sangtae’s face turned blue.

“Son, that’s amazing. Shall we… go to heaven together with Daddy today? Daddy will show you… show you something even better…”

The chief reached out toward the table littered with liquor bottles. Sangtae couldn’t see what he picked up. He had squeezed his eyes shut to see nothing, and immediately afterward a loud crashing sound came, terrifying him beyond words.

Clang!!!

“Ugh!”

The cock bent at a strange angle and slipped out. The taste of blood that wasn’t his own lingered in his mouth.

What was happening? In sheer terror, Sangtae curled up sideways on the sofa. He couldn’t even spit, so he swallowed the blood and semen. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears with both hands. Still, all sorts of stimuli invaded.

A sound of something spraying, a pungent smell, the shattering of a glass bottle, the chief’s shouts and curses, fists pounding into thick flesh with force, and a choking sound—the same one he himself had made moments ago.

After a long while, all the sounds faded.

“Kim Sangtae, open your eyes.”

Someone spoke to Sangtae, who was pressing his ears so tightly that his arms were cramping.

It was a familiar voice. But one that shouldn’t have been heard in a nightclub.

Gasping for air, Sangtae cracked his eyes open.

Youngmin was there before him.

Covered in fire extinguisher powder, Youngmin looked like a pale ghost. Above his head, the shattered mirror ball glowed yellow. From the chief’s hand, a syringe filled with its contents rolled across the floor.

“It’s all over. You’re okay now.”