Chapter 46

“I like to think I’ve treated you like a human being up until now, Seo Mu-yeong-ssi,” Choi Yook said.

Crumpling his empty burger wrapper, Choi Yook regarded him with chilling detachment.

“If you want to be treated like my trash can from now on, go right ahead. Just don’t even think of uttering a single complaint, no matter what I shove down your throat.”

So what he’s been doing was treating me like a human being. Feeling a chill run down his spine, Mu-yeong swallowed hard.

“Actually, now that I think about it, I have a weak stomach and a pretty finicky palate,” Mu-yeong retracted hastily.

“Right,” Choi Yook grunted. “Now that you’ve finally gained some self-awareness, finish your own damn food.”

Mu-yeong hastily peeled open the wrapper of the cheeseburger beside him. Taking a quick bite, he carefully read Choi Yook’s mood. Having flattened Mu-yeong as effortlessly as a spatula pressing a burger patty, the man was already munching on fries with an indifferent expression, gazing out the wide window as though their business was concluded.

As the chilling stare drifted away, relief settled over him. Only then did the rich, savory taste of the melted cheese register on his tongue. It was a flavor he had enjoyed without care only in his earliest childhood—the taste of buying a single burger behind Mom’s back and splitting it between him and his dad.

Yes, this is what a burger is supposed to taste like.

Catching the sunlight, the melted cheese gleamed with an even brighter golden hue. Savoring the burger at ease, Mu-yeong followed Choi Yook’s gaze to watch the scene outside.

Overcoats were nowhere to be seen on the streets anymore. Lush plane trees bore thick canopies of green leaves, their branches swaying gently in the breeze.

Without him even realizing when the cherry-blossom-laden spring had slipped away, early summer had already crept in.

Not long after finishing lunch, the two parted ways. From then on, Mu-yeong traveled across the capital area, carrying out several client requests.

By the time he returned home, the hour was already nearing midnight. The darkened entryway was faintly illuminated by the soft glow of the motion-sensor light.

“I’m home,” Mu-yeong announced softly to the empty space.

Mu-yeong bowed from the waist out of sheer habit. Grandmother had always insisted that one must offer a proper greeting whenever entering or leaving the house. It was a habit she had drilled into him, pressing down on the head of a young Mu-yeong who had been unable to make a sound.

Heading straight for the bathroom, Mu-yeong finished a quick shower. Before his hair was even fully dry, he dove onto the bed, wrapped himself in the duvet, and lay on his stomach.

It was finally time to inspect the candidates for Hyung.

To examine the information in this place that felt safer than anywhere else in the world, Mu-yeong had deliberately refrained from properly checking Lee Ho-joon’s message until now. It was the mindset of someone saving the very best candy for last.

Opening the app and tapping his chatroom with Lee Ho-joon, his pulse quickened steadily. Taking a deep breath, Mu-yeong opened the file. Three names were listed there.

Hwang Yeon-jae, Shin Yeon-jae, Im Yeon-jae.

Which of these was the real Hyung? Swallowing hard, Mu-yeong examined their addresses. Seoul, Mangcheon, and Daejeon, respectively. Among them, Hwang Yeon-jae’s social media account caught his eye.

Mu-yeong hastily launched the social media app. Perhaps he might recognize Hyung the moment he laid eyes on a single photograph. Carefully typing the alphanumeric handle into the search bar, his heart thumping in his chest, he hit enter.

“Um…?” Mu-yeong murmured in confusion.

Mu-yeong squinted. Beneath a handle tangled with a convoluted mess of upper- and lowercase letters and numbers, the circular profile picture displayed… a man in a dark club setting, wearing sunglasses, clad in nothing but bright red briefs, popping a bottle of champagne.

A tongue lolled lewdly past his smirking lips—either because he was too intoxicated to control it, or because he had intended some sort of ‘fatally seductive’ pose. Two thick gold chains dangled across his chest, and flecks of pure white froth clung to his tanned skin.

I don’t think this is him.

Mu-yeong swiftly concluded. There was no way this person could be Hyung.

Mu-yeong checked the other photos the man had uploaded. Branded wallets and luxury watches laid out in a flex, a middle finger thrust proudly toward the camera. Bottles of hard liquor and cigarette packs rolling across tables and floors. A video of him and his buddies cackling as they repeatedly thrust their hips into the empty air.

…It really didn’t seem like him. Still, he had to verify. Mu-yeong sent a direct message to the man.

Hwang Yeon-jae > hw_yj27843 | Month XX, Day XX |

—You’re the Hwang Yeon-jae who went to Mangcheon Middle School, right??

Before long, a reply came back from Hwang Yeon-jae.

—Lol u a girl?

Mu-yeong ignored the question.

Did you ever go to that small library at the foot of Mount Yeongno back in the day?? | What the hell are you on about lol

The typing indicator bubbled as if the other party was composing a reply. Mu-yeong watched the incoming stream of text.

—I pulled an all-nighter there once to film YouTube content lol. Ah fuck thinking back to that pisses me off lmao. Went cause people said a ghost was there lmaooooooooooooooo. Who the fuck are you you piece of shit

Mu-yeong closed the chat window and blocked him on the spot. If he didn’t know, he could have just said so; spewing foul curses made him an utter weirdo.

Mu-yeong set the phone down. Hyung had to be one of the remaining two, but he lacked the energy to check any further tonight. He didn’t want to encounter another character like that, not even one.

As he lay there simply catching his breath, the phone screen lit up. Checking the display, he saw a notification of a phone call connecting between Choi Yook and Han Seo-yoon. Mu-yeong immediately plugged an earphone into one ear.

—“Yeah, Seo-yoon.”

Choi Yook was the first to speak, his voice languid as though he had downed a fair amount of liquor.

—“You looked into Sijin’s medical records?”

—“Yes, sir. Just as you anticipated, he has no history of undergoing surgery fourteen years ago. Then… is it related to that place after all?”

—“Most likely.”

‘That place’—it seemed to refer to ‘over there,’ the location that had cropped up in previous conversations between Choi Yook and Han Seo-yoon. The place Choi Yook suspected Mu-yeong of being connected to.

But that place was tied to what happened fourteen years ago as well? Mu-yeong focused intently on the transmission. Han Seo-yoon continued his report in a tense, guarded tone.

—“We’re still tracking movements over there, but there is no unusual activity at present. Though they are bustling with preparations for Madam’s upcoming visit.”

—“It’ll be Sijin’s fake birthday soon, so it’s about time they pull off something big,” Choi Yook remarked over the line.

—“However… there still doesn’t seem to be any particular point of contact with Seo Mu-yeong,” Han Seo-yoon reported. “How should we proceed?”

Choi Yook fell silent for a moment before breaking his stillness.

—“Keep an eye on that place for now. It’s an important place anyway.”

—“Yes, sir. Understood.”

—“Still, I don’t think that place has much to do with Seo Mu-yeong.”

—“Is that so? What made you think that…?”

From the other end came a harsh, creaking noise, as if Choi Yook were forcefully shoving or wrenching a heavy wooden chair.

—“Because the more I look at him, as infuriating as it is, the bastard really seems utterly infatuated with Sijin. If that’s an act, then fuck, Seo Mu-yeong ought to sweep the Best New Actor award this year.”

Seo Mu-yeong grinned so wide that the muscles in his cheeks pulled taut. His spirits, which had plummeted straight through the floor into the basement, surged back up with a vengeance. As he rolled across the bed in celebration, Han Seo-yoon swallowed hard over the receiver.

—“…I thought that might be the case from the very beginning, but…”

—“Even so, he’s still suspicious.”

Choi Yook drew a firm line. As Seo Mu-yeong froze in the middle of his second roll across the mattress, the man’s deep voice carried over the line once more.

—“Don’t go pitying him. He might act docile and smile sweetly, but the bastard is fueled by sheer malice. If he loses his temper, he’s the type who wouldn’t hesitate to fling your family dog Poppi right out the window.”

I’d never even dream of such a thing! Besides, the dog’s name wasn’t Poppi—it was Seolgi. Seo Mu-yeong felt unfairly maligned, but had no way to set the record straight. Perhaps picturing Seolgi and his frail joints, Han Seo-yoon let out a strangled groan.

—“…Yes, sir. I’ll keep that in mind.”

—“There’s no need to rush into a careless conclusion. They’ll be facing each other soon anyway, so things will become clear then.”

Who’s meeting whom? Seo Mu-yeong pricked up his ears. But Choi Yook offered no further explanation, and the call promptly disconnected.

He methodically pieced together the contents of their exchange. In short, ‘that place’ was presumed to be linked to the events from fourteen years ago. Whether it was an individual, an organization, or a business entity remained unknown, but Kim Jeong-seon was scheduled to visit there shortly, and the trip was tied to Choi Sijin’s fake birthday.

If so, wouldn’t Kim Jeong-seon have spoken with Choi Sijin ahead of the visit? The two called each other often and met regularly. Of course, their calls usually consisted of Kim Jeong-seon phoning in an agonizingly fretful tone only for Choi Sijin to snap irritably and hang up, but they would have talked nonetheless.

There was exactly one way he might be able to uncover what was said.

The audio recorder he had attached to Choi Sijin’s Porsche. Seo Mu-yeong now had to retrieve it at all costs. As long as he was certain Choi Yook wasn’t lingering by Choi Sijin’s side, there was nothing to fear.

It was a risk he had to take sooner or later. Even if he had kept his head down and treaded cautiously until now, he couldn’t spend forever merely gazing up at the recorder like a dried fish dangling from the ceiling.

First, I need to get some sleep. Straightening his posture, Seo Mu-yeong closed his eyes. The realization that he had reaped a valuable harvest left him feeling remarkably refreshed. With a faint smile lingering on his lips, Seo Mu-yeong swiftly drifted off to sleep.

Having ended the call with Han Seo-yoon, Choi Yook strode down the garish crimson hallway back toward the private room he had stepped out of moments earlier. It was to resume a drinking gathering that was nothing more than a tedious continuation of work.

Checking his wristwatch, Choi Yook gripped the dial tight. During the day, the hours had flown by in a flash, yet now the hands seemed to crawl at a fraction of their pace.

Naturally—during the day, he had been out searching for that child. Nothing in the world carried greater purpose for Choi Yook. If only he could, he would have cast aside all his obligations and roamed Mount Yeongno instead.

Still, that the search had progressed this far was undeniably thanks to Seo Mu-yeong’s contribution. Even the sharpest private investigators had vanished without a trace the instant they set foot in Mangcheon, never returning with a word.

Of course, Choi Yook never believed there was any supernatural cause behind those disappearances. Mountain spirits and ghosts were laughable nonsense. Most of the incidents had been traffic accidents anyway, so just as Seo Mu-yeong had pointed out, it was simply because they hadn’t driven properly.

His trip to Mangcheon had been his first in fourteen years. Prior to this, no matter how desperately he wished to go, his circumstances had prevented him from moving at will. Yet wasn’t he roaming the area perfectly fine right now alongside Seo Mu-yeong?

Choi Yook recalled the way Seo Mu-yeong had ravenously sunk his teeth into that hamburger. Watching him nibble away so earnestly at such ordinary food had made his features seem surprisingly youthful. Then again, a three-year age gap was substantial. That child, too…