A Man Who Won't Eat Even If You Give It to Him
……………
As I kept walking, the state of the buildings gradually improved. They weren't exactly nice, but at least the windows had intact glass and the doors were properly hung. It felt like we'd transitioned from the slums to something resembling middle-class housing.
"Over there."
Catalina pointed to a five-story apartment building. It was gray concrete, indistinguishable from the others. We climbed the stairs to the third floor and stopped in front of one unit. She pulled out a key and unlocked the door.
"This isn't a place I bring just anyone. Consider yourself lucky."
The door shut behind us with a heavy metallic thud. Unlike the wooden doors on the other apartments, this one was solid steel.
"This place...?"
The interior was completely different from the drab exterior. Walls were lined with all sorts of firearms—assault rifles, shotguns, pistols. Ammo crates were stacked in one corner, along with bulletproof vests and helmets.
'It's a full-on arsenal.'
The windows were reinforced with thick steel plates, hidden from outside by curtains. In a word, it was a perfect defensive fortress and bunker.
"This is my safehouse."
Catalina took my bag and set it in the corner. "A kind of emergency shelter. If you're gonna make a living eating bullets in this city, you need at least one or two spots like this."
She grabbed two beers from the fridge and tossed one to me.
"Congrats. You survived."
Survived. Yeah, for now. But it was just for now.
……………
I heard the beer can crumple. While I'd nursed one, Catalina had already downed four.
"We've still got time until the delivery date. You're staying here till then."
It was an order. No room for questions or objections—just a unilateral declaration.
"Uh... so can I head out tomorrow morning?"
"Where to? You got no contacts."
She pulled the slip of paper from her pocket and waved it. My one ticket out.
"Well, technically you're free to go. But night's falling soon. Step out alone, and you're dead."
She was right. I peeked through the curtains: the sun was setting, night creeping in. Even daytime Santa Esperanza was hell; night would be worse. Gunshots echoed sporadically in the distance.
Dinner was canned beans and ham. Catalina kept pounding beers; I stopped at two. Any drunker, and my judgment might fail—then I'd be done for.
"Pick a spot and crash anywhere but the bathroom. Gotta use the toilet. Blankets are over there."
She pointed to a pile of military blankets in the corner. Clock said 11 p.m. She headed to her room and killed the living room lights.
I lay on the sofa under a blanket. The springs creaked but didn't stab my back. Thank God.
'...She'll give the note back, right?'
She probably would. Catalina had killed eight people today alone, a ruthless killer, but not some irredeemable psychopath. I trusted she'd uphold basic decency. Hell, she was my only option anyway.
Fatigue hit as I closed my eyes. But sleep didn't come easy. It was my first day as Ma Hyuksu, and way too much had happened. Corpses, gunfire, blood... horrific scenes flashed before me.
How much time passed? Footsteps woke me. Bare feet padding across the floor, drawing closer. No attempt to hide.
A silhouette approached in the dark. Moonlight outlined it—
"What, you're awake?"
It was Catalina. But something was off. Way more skin than in her tank top and cargos. Actually, her whole body...
'Holy shit.'
She was buck naked.
"Don't mess around."
"Mess around? That's how you play in Korea?"
She stepped closer. Faint light from the window illuminated her. Sun-tanned bronze skin, toned muscles, and— I looked away.
"What're you doing?"
"What else? Man and woman alone in a house—there's only one thing to do."
The sofa dipped. She sat beside me.
"You helped me today. Gotta repay you."
"Repay?"
"Yeah. Have some fun with this. And I'll have some too."
Her hand grazed my crotch.
"Wait, even so, this is too much."
I couldn't let it slide. I grabbed her hand, stopping her.
"Why? Don't like how I look?"
"That's not it."
"Then what? Playing hard to get? Cute, but step up your game. You some puberty-struck kid?"
"No way."
Like I'd thought earlier, today was insane. Turned into Ma Hyuksu by the Love Goddess, walked into Santa Esperanza past a rotting hanging corpse. Then watched Catalina kill six—no, eight including the runners-up close. Finally, navigated the city in a dead man's clothes.
She was beautiful, sure. But I wasn't in the mood to hook up with a stranger.
"Not feeling it right now."
"Feeling? It's already hard."
"That's just physiology!"
She snorted mockingly.
"Look, my tits are big, right? Ass too. Not fat-big, naturally big. Never met a guy who didn't like 'em."
She pressed closer. Ruthless killer or not, her skin was warm.
"Catalina, I'm serious."
Polite but firm.
"I don't want a relationship without love."
Half an excuse, really. My real thought: Back off, bitch, I'm stressed and pissed. But saying that outright? Bullet to the head.
So I packaged it nicely: no love, no dice.
It worked. Catalina stared blankly for a long moment.
Then:
"...What!?"
Shock in her voice. First time I'd truly surprised her.
"A relationship without love... what?"
"I don't want just physical stuff."
More silence. Longer this time. Then she burst out laughing.
"Hahaha! What a lunatic! You don't mean..."
She stopped, staring hard.
"Dick works fine, so not impotent. Gotta be gay, right?"
"No!"
"Then why reject? Hot young chick naked and throwing herself at you. Scared I'll knock you up?"
"I just don't wanna do it."
"Makes no sense. You gay? Top or bottom?"
"What the hell? I'm not."
"Hm... granny-fucker or kid-lover then—"
"No!!"
I put some force into it; she giggled, standing—still naked.
"Man, that's wild. Really wild."
She muttered walking away, then spun around from a distance.
"Sure? No regrets? Won't think 'Shoulda fucked her before dying...'?"
"Dead sure. No."
"Fine, whatever. Won't eat it even if I give it. Can't force ya."
Bang. Her door slammed.
'Haa...'
What a brutal day. And this at the end.
Exhaustion hit hard now. I pulled the blanket over and lay back.
'Normal, happy love... possible in this shithole city?'
Obviously not. So escape. If possible.
……………
Trust no one.
That was Catalina's sole survival rule since age twelve in Santa Esperanza.
Her first kill: the uncle trying to sell her to a brothel. Kitchen knife across the throat—blood sprayed to the ceiling. Still vivid.
Santa Esperanza was that kind of city. Trust was a luxury; pity, poison. Only utility and profit kept you alive. Worth saving? Live. Not? Die.
The Asian guy sleeping on the living room sofa should be no different. Ma Hyuksu, was it? Thanks to him, she'd gathered and wiped the pursuers. Useful for the bag delivery too.
Now his usefulness was spent.
Bigger issue: the safehouse. Two years building this hideout. But he knew its location. Letting him live meant future trouble. City law.
In her hand: nylon rope. 3mm thick. Perfect for strangling. Around the neck: unconscious in 3 seconds, brain-dead in 30. No gunshot noise, no blood spray.
Plan: Pretend to fuck. Straddle his relaxed lower half, caress the neck. He won't notice the rope. One minute: soul gone.
Sphincters loosen at death—shit and piss a hassle, but easier than blood.
Bag the body, dump at dawn. Ditches overflow with corpses; one more unnoticed.
She'd cleaned up spent pawns this way flawlessly. No failures. Naked woman disarms any guard.
But today:
"I don't want a relationship without love."
That line stuck. First man in her life to reject her nude.
'Am I ugly?'
Mirror check: healthy glow, firm muscles, big tits and ass. Self-praise aside, it worked on everyone.
Yet rejected. For "love." Gay? No—saw the erection. Then what? Really about love?
In a place where you might not see tomorrow's dawn?