Unprecedented
"Whoa. Here they come."
"Kid, you really gonna do this? Just stay put and—"
As four massive men came jostling out of the restroom, the crowd turned uneasy eyes on the tense young man in their midst, the mood thick with attempts to talk him down.
Everyone, that is, except one person.
"Show them, baby! What do you have to feel inferior about next to those old guys? Your face is way better looking!"
...That doesn't seem to be the problem.
Ju Minho forced down the anxiety rising in his throat and fixed his gaze on the young man walking slowly toward them.
Starting a pointless fight in a situation like this? Does that woman even have a frontal lobe attached to her brain?
Still, it was hard to pin all the blame on the couple. She wasn't exactly wrong. They had all suffered plenty themselves—well, not her, of course—and watching those four swagger around throwing their weight around was definitely out of line.
But even so...
At last the young man stopped walking.
Picking a fight this openly is pure insanity.
"...What?"
Do Wangu looked down at the young man blocking his path—a full head shorter than himself—and furrowed his brow.
"You got business with me? Why the hell are you standing in people's way?"
The young man swallowed hard, then opened his mouth with a rigid face.
"Yes. I do have business. There's something I need to say to you, mister."
Do Wangu traded a glance with his friends, then tipped his chin at the young man again. The look was quietly threatening—go on, say your piece—but the fact that the kid didn't back down was almost worth a little credit.
"Th-the way you keep giving us all those looks. I'd appreciate it if you stopped."
"Looks? What looks am I giving anybody?"
The shameless shrug, the pure act of ignorance, made the young man clench his teeth.
"It wasn't just you who put in the work! Everyone here busted their asses just to take down those monsters, and now we're trying to rest—but you keep doing this, and people are miserable!"
"...Hmm. Did I? Don't remember."
Do Wangu rolled his eyes back over the people behind him. Most of them looked away. He snorted a laugh and met the young man's gaze again.
"Anyway. So what do you want me to do about it?"
"...So I'm saying!"
The young man finally cracked under the pressure of the room and raised his voice.
"Stop acting like you're our boss!"
Thud—
And then that thick hand clamped down on the young man's shoulder.
"Hey. Nice choice of words."
"...?"
It wasn't the explosion of rage the young man had braced for. The smile curling at the corner of Do Wangu's mouth held no anger at all—and somehow that made it more terrifying than any snarl.
"Boss, huh. I like that. Way better than some goofy crap like 'leader' or 'boss man.'"
"...What?"
Do Wangu stopped listening and shoved the young man aside like he was tossing him out of the way.
"Ugh!"
Crash—
"Ah! Baby?!"
Watching the woman who had started this whole mess dash over to the groaning young man with her best terrified-act performance was more than Ju Minho could take. He covered both eyes with his palm.
Haa. I knew it. The way he talks, he's only going to get worse from here.
He had half-expected this, but Ju Minho still clung to a scrap of hope. Even so, the guy wouldn't go full tyrant just for the sake of "control," right? That kind of character only existed in movies...
"Alright. From now on, we control the food inside this department store."
"...Shit."
The curse slipped out of Ju Minho before he could stop it. He startled at his own mouth and snuck a look at Do Wangu. Either the man hadn't heard, or he didn't care—he just kept talking with his arms crossed.
"Reason's obvious. Smooth management, and prep for anything that might go wrong. And if you're wondering why me and my boys get the job—I can answer that in one line."
Because our crew is the strongest.
Do Wangu cracked his neck with an exaggerated pop, sinking the mood even further.
"And just so we're clear, there's nothing shady about this. Right now, those paper scraps called money are worthless, and age is just a number. So if we're gonna make rules and actually keep them, violence has to sit right at the center. That's what I'm saying."
"......"
Ju Minho would have loved nothing more than to spend the next ten minutes dismantling that garbage line by line—but he had neither the mouth nor the confidence for it, so he just stood there and listened.
"That's the only way our rules and order hold. You all know that, right? Imagine someone else declaring they're in charge of the food. You think that works? Not a chance."
"...And what makes you so sure?"
Do Wangu looked at the old man who had asked and answered.
"Isn't it obvious? We got no reason to sit there and watch it happen. Say, for example..."
We take the food by force and eat it however we want. Something like that.
"Ah—not that we'd actually do that. Just an example."
You can glare all you want saying that. Like people are just going to swallow it.
Ju Minho glanced at the faces around him, discontent quietly written across them. Do Wangu, for his part, paid their expressions zero attention and kept right on talking.
"Alright. I figure I've explained enough. Anyone still got a problem, step up now."
Like civilized, intelligent people. I'll talk you through it nice and slow.
The way he added that while stroking his fist was disgustingly persuasive.
"....."
"...Ahem."
In the silence that followed, Ju Minho stood still with everyone else, saying nothing.
...No choice. Just go along with it.
"Nobody? What about the guy who just said 'shit'? I heard that clear as day."
Hup.
He heard that?
A cold sweat traced down the back of Ju Minho's neck.
"Get out here right now. Don't sit quiet and try to start trouble later."
"Ah, and for the record—this isn't an order. It's a suggestion. Take it easy. Real easy."
...This son of a bitch.
A few people near Ju Minho who had heard the curse started glancing his way.
"If you don't come out by the count of three, well. Nothing I can do."
I'll just ask around later and find you.
Do Wangu added that with a crooked grin and held up three fingers.
"One... two..."
Cursing himself raw on the inside, Ju Minho finally stepped forward.
"Ah. That you?"
Do Wangu's eyes raked over him from head to toe.
"Well, look at that uniform. Department store part-timer, huh? Service workers get to walk around with that kind of mouth on them?"
"...I'm sorry."
Ju Minho led with the working adult's ultimate technique: apologize first, figure it out later.
"I wasn't cursing at you, mister. The situation was just rough, and it slipped out—"
"Ah, skip the apology and the excuses. I didn't call you up here for that."
"...?"
Then why the hell did you make me come forward?
Do Wangu smiled and gripped Ju Minho's shoulder. Unlike with the young man earlier, the hand was loose—no real force in it.
"You're in charge of food management from now on."
"...Excuse me? What do you mean?"
Do Wangu forcibly turned Ju Minho's torso so he was facing the crowd.
"This young man here seems to have some issues with what I said, so I'm accounting for that and putting him in charge of the food himself. Everybody got that?"
"No—I have no intention of—"
"See? I can take feedback. Hmm. Breakfast in thirty minutes."
Do Wangu checked the time on his thick metal wristwatch, then leaned in and whispered to Ju Minho.
"Manage the food properly. Gather everything edible on the first floor in one place and count the inventory. Before we start distributing in thirty minutes."
"....."
Only then did Ju Minho understand how the situation was actually moving.
This son of a bitch...
This man was setting him up so that if anything went wrong later, every scrap of blame would land on Ju Minho. He'd just gotten lucky catching someone—and while he was at it, he was turning him into the errand boy who did their dirty work.
One wrong word out of my mouth and this is what I get. Damn it.
Some tens of minutes later.
Far from cooling off the way Do Wangu had supposedly intended, Ju Minho's resentment only kept stacking higher—but he had no choice except to swallow it and do the work he'd been forced into.
That bastard.
Everyone else sat around chatting comfortably right in front of him. Do Wangu had ordered them not to help—just watch. Pure theater. A message: if you don't want this to be you, behave.
He's huge and looks dumb as a rock, but...
Dumb? Not even close. This was a guy who could land a seat of power in Yeouido without breaking a sweat.
Grinding his teeth, Ju Minho was stacking doughnut boxes one after another when someone spoke to him in a low voice.
"Excuse me."
"...Yes?"
Who's that? Don't tell me they came to help.
He turned his head without much interest—and found a man standing there.
"...Who are you?"
A complete stranger. The survivors gathered in this department store weren't that few, but there still weren't so many that a brand-new face should just appear.
"You look like a department store part-timer. Do you happen to know which floor the meat section is on?"
The quiet voice, the face—somehow both of them felt bone-dry and utterly indifferent.