Black Market (5)
The meat section of the black market had every kind of flesh imaginable. Butchers were processing freshly slaughtered animals on the spot, while others sold vacuum-packed cuts chilling in ice-filled coolers. Every customer here looked loaded with cash. Well, who else would splurge on fresh meat unless they had serious resources?
"Are these products reliable?"
"Yes, sir. Everything's rigorously inspected by the Merchant Association before sale. Just ask, and they'll tell you exactly when it was butchered."
"Got it."
I glanced sideways—no Im Jui. I turned back and saw her standing stock-still, staring blankly at one of the butcher stalls. Her gaze was fixed on a shop strung with whole fresh chickens dangling like ornaments.
"When were those chickens slaughtered?"
"The Association notified us two days ago they'd be processing a batch, so at most two days old."
"I'll take some chicken."
I handed over a few bottles of liquor and scored eight dressed chickens. Im Jui looked shocked, but I wasn't regretting it—I planned to unload all our goods anyway. More than that, I was as eager for chicken as she was.
I dumped the rest of the booze for six rechargeable lanterns, then we left the black market. The colonel escorted us back to the entrance and introduced himself as Colonel Jo Seo-hyeon. He made sure to say to look for him next time. Guess I came across as a big-spending whale to them. Thanks to Colonel Jo, we'd shopped at fair prices.
"Not too heavy?"
-It's fine, Your Excellency.-
"Good. Let's hurry home and crack into that chicken for breakfast. You really wanted some, huh? Staring like that."
Im Jui flinched, then scribbled furiously on her notepad.
-Your Excellency, that's absurd. You've already spent so much on us. I can't accept chicken too.-
"Just eat it. It's better shared."
Im Jui bowed her head deeply.
The drones weren't night-vision goggles, but they saw better in the dark than the naked eye. On the way back, we swung by the vendor stalls to pick up the military gear we'd lifted from the sniper.
"You didn't panic much even when that sniper had us pinned. You ever faced one before?"
-Yes, Your Excellency. Five times. First Special Awakener, though.-
"Weren't you scared?"
-Snipers are often rich, so it was good. Days I met them, I got lots of food to take home.-
"I see..."
To most people, snipers were terror incarnate. To Im Jui, they were like golden goblins.
Lying in bed, it had been ages since I'd manually piloted two drones for so long. Even flat on my back, exhaustion gnawed at me, yet Im Jui pulled our loaded cart without a single complaint. It made me feel a bit ashamed of myself.
Han Seol and Han Byeol were alternating shifts—one staying with my drone in the living room, the other patrolling the house perimeter. Even if more display cases unlocked later, piloting multiple drones would take practice. Maybe full auto-pilot for all drones would eventually unlock.
About four hours later, we reached home. No raiders on the way—lucky break. I signaled our arrival, and Han Seol and Han Byeol came out front to greet Im Jui.
"Put the meat in the fridge for breakfast tomorrow. The rest stays here for this house. You two head home now too."
"Yes, Your Excellency!"
"Yes, Master!"
I returned the drones to their display case and stretched. The front door creaked open, followed by the sisters' footsteps.
"Master! Can we come in?"
"Yeah, come on."
"Master used casual speech!"
"Felt more natural."
"Us too."
Switching to casual outside and formal inside sounded like a hassle. Casual all the way was easier, and the sisters seemed fine with it.
Han Byeol flopped right beside me and said,
"Master, how was it? Tell us all about the black market."
"Byeol! You can't just climb into Do-hyun's bed like that."
"It's fine. The chicken?"
"In the fridge. Sniper rifle and vest are in the basement."
"Thanks. Tomorrow morning, let's make samgyetang."
"Whoa! Master, you got chicken there too? They used to only sell dried salted meat. Things have changed a lot."
"Yeah."
Han Seol paced my room, glancing around, then joined Han Byeol on the bed, lying on my other side. Beautiful twin sisters flanking me... every guy's dream. But I was too wiped to care.
"Tell us quick."
"So, after shaking the sniper, we hit the black market..."
"Mm... huh?"
Last night, I'd dozed off mid-story, twins on either side. Fine, I was beat. But opening my eyes, they were still there—one big difference: both had hooked their arms through mine in sleep.
"..."
Something soft pressed against my arm. Realizing what that plush sensation might be, my twenty-three-year-old morning wood pitched a tent.
I tried bending my knees, squirming my lower body to flatten it, but with my upper body pinned, no dice.
"Mm... Seol, lemme sleep more."
My fidgeting just made Han Byeol mumble in her sleep and clamp tighter. Sandwich. Arms trapped in paradise.
"Haa..."
Reason screamed to escape; instinct whispered this was fine. I ended up staring at the ceiling for fifteen minutes.
Turning to Han Byeol, she was out cold. The other way—Han Seol, eyes open.
"Ah, startled me. When'd you wake?"
"Just now..."
"Sleep well?"
Awkward as hell. Please let go of my arm first.
"You both crashed here? I don't even remember nodding off."
I forced a casual smile, but Han Seol just gave an enigmatic one back.
"Yeah, slept great. I'll prep breakfast."
"Sure. But detach Han Byeol first. Why's she so strong? My arm's numb."
Breakfast was samgyetang from yesterday's chickens. Simple seasoning with salt and pepper, loaded with garlic, chives, and watercress, simmered long. No herbal meds—pity.
When Im Jui's group came for rations, I handed over chickens with the veggies. Three for us, five for them. They refused at first—how could they take five?—but I insisted. Tossed in spare portable burners and butane too.
Lee Kyung-min teared up, chanting "Your Excellency! Your Excellency!" nonstop. Lee Ha-yeon calls me "Oppa." Felt bad—adults teaching her weird stuff.
"Ack!"
"Do-hyun! You okay? Rinse in cold water quick."
"Master, sit and read your comic..."
"Yeah..."
Couldn't just sit while the sisters cooked, so I grabbed the hot samgyetang pot to move it. Scalded my hand. Dumbass—rinsed in cold water and waited at the table.
"Let's eat."
"I'll eat well."
"I'll eat well!"
I sipped clear broth first.
"Whoa..."
"Wow."
"Oh my."
Didn't expect much—basic stock from chives, garlic, greens; just salt and pepper. But the samgyetang was shockingly good. Chicken broth soaked into my bones after so long without.
We devoured it, faces in bowls. After, Han Seol did dishes; Han Byeol sat silently, watching me read. Odd—she was usually chatty, but quiet today.
I closed the book.
"Uh... something to say?"
"Yes."
"Spit it out."
Han Byeol tilted her head.
"Master, living here, you never noticed anything weird?"
"Honestly, everything's weird. Hard to pick where to start... House going from two to three stories was sus enough."
"Not that. In a year and a half alone, ever get sick? Cold? Fall and hurt yourself?"
I pondered. Nothing. Only puked my first cig, no other issues.
"Weird, right? Seol, you think?"
Han Seol dried her hands post-dishes.
"Do-hyun, we've been thinking since moving in..."
"Yeah?"
"What if you're invincible inside the barrier?"
"Huh? Nah, not that much. Burned my hand earlier—felt the heat fine."
"Do-hyun, I touched the handle after. As an Awakener, no burn for me, but normal skin should've blistered."
I checked my hand. Perfectly fine.
"Master, last week on the roof for coffee—you tumbled down the stairs coming back."
"You... saw?"
Last week, up early for rooftop coffee, slipped on stairs tumbling down. Thought no one saw my pathetic roll.
"We woke up, opened our door—saw you. Didn't wanna embarrass you, so closed it, waited ten minutes."
"I saw clear! Master groaning and rolling from the bottom, but popped up fine."
"Didn't groan..."
"Normal person breaks something, or at least bruises bad. You were spotless."
Embarrassing, but yeah—odd. Could've snapped anywhere. I just thought, Lucky no witnesses, not that it hurt bad. More like stings a bit.
"It did hurt, though."
"Do-hyun, wanna test it?"
"Test?"
"Seol, grip tight!"
"Wait! Gimme a sec to brace."
Han Seol held my wrist on the table; Han Byeol wielded a metal fork. Testing on the back of my hand first. Not full force from above—just press slowly.
"Master! Say if it hurts bad!"
Han Byeol pressed the fork tines into my skin. Hurt.
"Do-hyun, how?"
"Hurts, but normal fork poke. Painful enough no cut, that's it."
"More pressure."
Same hurt.
"Same as before."
Han Byeol's hand trembled.
"A bit... harder!"
She gritted, shaking arm and all—stabbed hard. Same pain.
"Huh?"
"Gasp."
We all froze in shock. The metal fork had bent.