GBH 78

Kim Deuk-pal, a senior member of the Chilseong faction, was not dead.

Rumors spread widely, but there was no way to confirm them. The source of the rumors couldn’t be traced, and the Chilseong faction members who could verify the truth were scattered across the country, impossible to find.

Even if a funeral was held, only the Chilseong members who cremated the body would know if he was really dead. Additionally, there was speculation that the unidentified boy spreading rumors about Kim Deuk-pal being alive might be known to the Chilseong faction.

“The one spreading rumors, isn’t he a Chilseong rookie? They say he’s young.”

It was a nightclub where ears went numb. A gangster with slicked-back hair, a strand falling loose, wearing a short-sleeved shirt with a flashy pattern, said as he climbed the club stairs.

“They say he’s not a Chilseong member. An unfamiliar face. Well, no one’s seen his face clearly because he wears a hat and mask, but they say if he was in Chilseong, someone would have recognized him. He’s scrawny but shouldn’t be underestimated – his fighting skills are no joke.”

The subordinate following closely up the narrow stairs relayed the recent rumors. As it was a rumor shaking up the area lately, the subordinate’s explanation was as detailed as if he had met the mysterious boy himself.

“He’s still just a kid. How much fighting experience could a milk-breath have?”

“Y-yes, that’s true.”

The gangster snorted. The subordinate didn’t agree readily but forced a smile and agreed, unable to go against the hierarchy.

“Who is he to say whether Kim Deuk-pal is dead or alive?”

As they emerged from the basement, a stuffy breeze brushed their sweaty napes. The gangster’s wide-open collar revealed a glinting gold necklace. The gangster and his subordinate sought an alley to smoke. The street lights dimmed, and the stench of vomit from drunk patrons wafted through the air.

“What’s so great about Kim Deuk-pal that everyone’s making a fuss about him coming back to life? Kim Deuk-pal, what kind of name is that? Even my grandfather’s name is better.”

The gangster had joined the organization after Kim Deuk-pal had risen to a senior position. He treated Kim Deuk-pal’s achievements, which he had only heard about, as absurd myths. Dismissing the Kim Deuk-pal talk, he extended his hand to his subordinate who was taking out a cigarette pack. He had just finished smoking in the bathroom.

“Give me your leftover smoke, and go buy a carton from the convenience store.”

“Yes, boss!”

The subordinate handed over his cigarette and waited for the boss to give him money for the cigarettes. However, the gangster was already lighting up, holding the filter between his teeth. When the subordinate stood there blankly, the gangster furrowed his brow menacingly.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Huh? Oh… yes, yes.”

“Why aren’t you going?”

It turned out he wanted the subordinate to buy cigarettes with his own money. He should have known from the moment they came out to smoke. Once again suppressed by rank, the subordinate could only curse inwardly as he ran to the convenience store.

Left alone in the dark alley, puffing on the red cigarette ember, the gangster recalled the time several months ago when the Chilseong boss died, flicking his ash.

“Damn it. We should have wiped out those Chilseong bastards then.”

This mess happened because they showed misplaced mercy. They should have caught and beaten all the fleeing members, but instead, they let them go, mentioning something about Kim Deuk-pal. As he smoked his cigarette down to the filter with discontent, he heard a voice behind him.

“Excuse me, I have a question.”

“What? Ow, hot-!”

The gangster turned around clumsily, startled and burned his hand on the cigarette. A man was standing right behind him, whose presence he hadn’t noticed at all.

The person who spoke wore a windbreaker with the hood pulled down to below his nose. The thin windbreaker made it impossible to gauge his build, but judging from his long legs in shorts that came to mid-thigh, he didn’t have a sturdy physique. The slender lines of his legs suggested he was young.

Though his face was completely hidden by the pulled-down hood and mask, something about his legs gave the strong impression of a boy rather than a man. The black disposable mask the boy wore rustled.

“Didn’t your big boss tell you not to go around alone?”

“What? Ugh!”

Without warning, the boy grabbed the gangster’s gold necklace and yanked it. The caught-off-guard gangster was pulled forward and nearly fell face-first, but then his back was struck by an elbow and his waist bent like a sickle. In the blink of an eye, a round knee flew towards the gangster’s face.

“Gahk-!”

The hard kneecap mercilessly struck his face, bursting blood and smashing his nose bridge. As the gangster staggered, clutching his broken nose, the boy kicked him in the side. The precise blow sent the gangster rolling over the vomit-smeared ground.

“Ugh, uh…”

The gangster twisted his body, clutching his bleeding nose bridge and side that felt like it might snap. As he struggled to get up, scraping his cheek on the cement floor, he stopped all resistance when he saw sneakers appear before his eyes. A chilling air descended. Rolling only his eyes upward, he saw Song Yi-heon, the boy with his face hidden by a black cap and mask, casting a shadow like the grim reaper.

From the viewpoint looking up from below, the inside of the boy’s hat was visible. The boy’s black silhouette, backlit by the neon signs outside the alley, was faintly distinguishable. The disdainful gaze at the gangster who had been taken down without putting up a decent fight was also clearly visible above the black mask.

“Kuh, y-you, w-what… who are you…!”

The enraged gangster tried to counterattack, but Song Yi-heon was faster in grabbing his hair.

“Gurk, huk…!”

Song Yi-heon swung his fist at the gangster’s smashed nose bridge. With an ominous sound of fractured bones splintering, the gangster slumped, choking as blood filled his nasal cavity.

While Song Yi-heon’s body wasn’t suited for fistfights, he had tricks learned from Kim Deuk-pal that ensured he wouldn’t lose in one-on-one fights. So he picked on guys who were alone, but as rumors spread, gangsters stopped going around alone. He thought he had missed his chance this time too, but when one guy left, he didn’t miss the opportunity.

Song Yi-heon shook the hair of the man who had lost the strength to resist.

“How’s Gwak Pil-chun of the Taesung faction doing?”

The boy’s mouth uttered the name of the gang’s organization and an unfamiliar name. Wondering who Gwak Pil-chun was and why he was asking about his well-being, the gangster barely opened his trembling eyes to glare at Song Yi-heon.

“You don’t even know your boss’s name is Gwak Pil-chun, yet you mock Kim Deuk-pal.”

Surprised that the boy knew his organization’s boss’s name, the gangster squirmed. But the surprises didn’t end there.

“Gwak Pil-chun did covet this place. But this isn’t right. Backstabbing guys who are devastated by the death of their family – that’s really not okay.”

He had long heard the news that Chilseong faction had been betrayed while beating up lone gangsters. Song Yi-heon pulled the hair he was gripping close to his face. In the darkness reeking of blood, brown eyes flashed coldly.

“Even if you don’t keep your loyalty, you should at least keep your business ethics. Tell Gwak Pil-chun. Kim Deuk-pal is coming to collect on the life he spared back then.”

“Y-you…!”

“Clean your neck and wait. Kim Deuk-pal is gathering the Chilseong guys and preparing to strike.”

The truth was, he didn’t know where the scattered Chilseong members were. Seeing how the chairman had employed them in his construction company to confront environmental groups, he could easily find out their whereabouts by asking the chairman. But with Kim Deuk-pal’s soul potentially ascending at any moment, he couldn’t carelessly create a connection with the chairman.

Anyway, if he stirred up trouble mentioning Kim Deuk-pal, they would gather on their own. He could be sure of that. Just as his blood ran cold, unable to confirm the well-being of his subordinates who might be wandering without homes, the subordinates wouldn’t leave alone someone impersonating the dead Kim Deuk-pal.

Thinking this should be enough, Song Yi-heon threw down the gangster’s hair and stood up. He heard stirring, but no one followed.

As Song Yi-heon turned into an alley, he passed Se-kyung who was leaning against the wall watching and said:

“Don’t get involved in fights.”

It was a warning he had given many times before. He set the condition of not interfering at all in order to bring Se-kyung along. He didn’t think Se-kyung would keep it, but if he didn’t set such a condition, he couldn’t bear the guilt of bringing Se-kyung into this dirty business.

While he was firmly resolving to protect the lovely Se-kyung from being tainted by the gangster world, Se-kyung had other thoughts.

“Kim Deuk-pal…”

When Se-kyung quietly murmured the name the gangster had mentioned, Song Yi-heon noticeably flinched. He glared warningly, telling him not to take off his hat and act carelessly, but Se-kyung smiled innocently as if he knew nothing.

“It’s a nice name.”

Even when Song Yi-heon looked him up and down to see if he was being sarcastic, Se-kyung seemed completely innocent.

“Follow me.”

Feeling like he was the only bad guy in the face of Se-kyung’s pure compliment, Song Yi-heon walked off briskly.

The windbreaker he had put on in preparation for the cool dawn was getting hot as the tropical night was about to begin. As the sudden stuffiness made his skin sticky, he unzipped his windbreaker.

“Nice my ass…”

Song Yi-heon cursed the environmental issues he didn’t care about, saying the increasingly hot summer weather was all due to pollution. His cheeks, which he was cooling with the back of his hand, felt like they would burst from the embarrassment of being childishly pleased by the compliment of having a nice name, something he had never heard even by mistake.

Summer nights, especially the summers of youth, were this hot.

* * *

In the early morning with faint stars still remaining, hot steam rising from the rooftop of an old building became visible as it met the cool morning air. Se-kyung gazed up at the steam spreading into the sky for a long time.

The bathhouse Song Yi-heon had brought Se-kyung to didn’t have a separate sign, but had the characters for “bathhouse” individually manufactured and attached to the building’s exterior. Like the outer walls stained with black grime, the red color of the bathhouse characters had faded.

For Se-kyung, who had only been to luxury spas operated by hotels, it was a scene he had only seen in textbooks. Song Yi-heon was looking forward to soaking his body in hot water after a long time, but when Se-kyung didn’t follow, he urged him on.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you coming in?”

“Um… I’m just a bit surprised that there’s a place like this in Seoul.”

“If you don’t like places like this, go home.”

Not willing to indulge the young master’s whims, Song Yi-heon went in first, taking the stairs two steps at a time. Se-kyung looked up once more at the building that clearly showed the traces of time, then entered. He let out a small sigh, realizing that, like the inn in Gangneung before, it wasn’t easy to make advances on someone older.

They say the bathhouse is a place where all people become equal. Inside the bathhouse, where luxury clothes, bags, expensive watches, and foreign cars had no place, everyone seemed equal in their nakedness. However, seeing that there were still ranks even among naked bodies, being naked didn’t make everyone equal.

People with sturdy builds were overbearing, while smaller people hunched their shoulders and made way. Some cast admiring glances at those with good bodies, sneaking peeks, and today’s main subject was Choi Se-kyung standing under the shower.

With steam from the hot water obscuring his private parts, Se-kyung wasn’t macho enough to flaunt his masculinity. But his tall height, good proportions, and well-defined muscles without any excess made for an ideal body that could appear in magazines. His facial features, visible as he tilted his head back to let the water stream over his wet hair, were not the kind easily seen on the street, making the stolen glances even more fervent.

Song Yi-heon was also in the bath already, watching Choi Se-kyung. He had his arms resting on the edge of the tub, sucking on a straw stuck in a banana milk. As his tastes seemed to be getting more childish, the banana milk he had chosen as a substitute for beer was highly satisfying.

He’s handsome, that Choi Se-kyung.

Song Yi-heon made an objective assessment, as generous as the sweetness lingering in his mouth.

He was the son Choi Myung-hyun had raised with great care. Although his true nature had been suppressed and he had been treated as strange, in all other aspects he seemed to have grown up without lacking anything. There was no need to mention food, clothing, and shelter, which were abundant. His academic performance, scoring an average of 1 in both mock exams and school grades, was possible thanks to a solid foundation built from childhood under constant attention.

His body was evenly developed overall, suggesting he had been consistently engaged in various sports. Judging by the lack of scars on his good body, one could guess how much attention had been paid to Se-kyung’s safety.

Aside from suppressing his true nature, there seemed to be no emotional exploitation, and in daily life, Choi Se-kyung was relaxed and confident, welcomed everywhere.

“Emotionally speaking, it’s remarkable in itself that they raised that sensitive guy to be normal.”

Song Yi-heon, who had been caught by Choi Se-kyung for having a switched soul, muttered to himself, feeling daunted.