Chapter 003
Chapter 003
“Shiiiiiiiiiiit, brrrrroooooo!”
The huge man roared.
“Inspiration! Flash! Straight to work! That’s a real artist right there!”
“……”
…So he really believed it.
Well, if there was any silver lining, I guessed that was it.
“So, did you finish the track?”
“……Track?”
“The beat you were making that day!”
“Ah, that… not yet.”
Not not yet.
I hadn’t even started.
I hadn’t had any equipment at all since that day, so how was I supposed to finish anything?
“But wait, what’s your name?”
“……Park Geon.”
“Park… Geon?”
The huge man rolled the pronunciation around in his mouth.
He seemed to have trouble saying a Korean name.
“Nah.”
He shook his head.
“You Shotgun.”
“…What?”
“From now on, you’re Shotgun. You bolted that day like a shotgun blast, bro.”
“……”
A so-called street name.
In other words, a gang member had just given me a nickname.
“…But what are you doing here? Do you have some kind of business in this neighborhood?”
“Korean food, bro. I like Korean food.”
He came all the way here to eat Korean food?
That was a relief.
It meant he wasn’t here looking for me.
“I came to find a good place to eat.”
The huge man pulled out his phone and opened Yelp.
He scrolled through review pages, then typed Korean food into the search bar.
“Yo, Shotgun. How about this place?”
He turned the screen toward me.
“!”
Yelp rating: 4.7.
…Gohyangmi.
The restaurant run by my parents.
Ah, no, of all places.
“Ah, maybe not there…”
“Why? The rating’s crazy high. The reviews are good too.”
“No, that’s not what I mean…”
“Let’s go.”
The huge man threw an arm over my shoulders.
Before I even had a chance to argue, I was dragged along.
Ah, please.
This was hopeless.
What if my family recognized me at the restaurant?
That would expose my family’s location to a Crips gang member.
And if that happened, my family could end up in danger!
Please, when we go in, don’t act like you know me. Please. Please.
I swore to myself that I would desperately try to signal them.
Don’t acknowledge me.
Please.
The door to Gohyangmi opened.
The smell of doenjang-jjigae rushed out at us.
“Oh damn~ Smells good.”
The huge man flared his nostrils and stepped inside.
At that moment—
“Welco—”
Park Yul, standing at the counter, opened her eyes wide.
I put force into my gaze and shook my head—
“…Oppa?”
Ah.
“Oh, Oppa, is he your friend?”
The worst possible scenario had become reality.
The huge man turned to look at me.
“Yo, Shotgun. That your little sister?”
Fuck.
“Ah, she just works here part-time—”
That was when my father stuck his head out from the kitchen.
“Geon-ah, is that your friend?”
“……”
I was screwed.
Everything was exposed now.
There was no point trying to deny it anymore.
“Yeah, he’s my twin.”
The huge man greeted him with a light one-armed hug.
Unexpectedly, my father accepted it naturally.
“Haha, twin? You’re Geon’s best friend?”
“……”
“Wow, what a solid build. My son’s got himself an impressive friend. Come on in and have a seat.”
“Oh… sir, thank you so much.”
…Was this really the same guy who kidnapped me in front of the laundromat?
Why was he being so polite?
“Ayyyy, Shotgun. Your father’s cool, bro. Different aura.”
“……”
The huge man plopped down into a seat.
“My boy, you sit too.”
“No, I should probably, um, help my parents with work over there—”
My mother set down a tray of water glasses and said,
“It’s not busy right now, so it’s fine.”
“……”
The huge man bowed exaggeratedly toward my mother, then opened the menu.
“Ma’am, I’ll take this. Braised short ribs, spicy stir-fried pork… and a pajeon too.”
“Oh my, that’s a lot.”
“Ah, and one stone-pot bibimbap too. And naengmyeon, the spicy one. And one steamed egg.”
I watched from the side, breaking out in a cold sweat.
How much is this guy planning to eat?!
“Shotgun, what are you gonna eat?”
“I-I’ll just…”
I needed to feed him anything and send him home fast.
The longer this dragged on, the more dangerous it became.
“Ma’am, he’ll have soft tofu stew!”
The huge man even ordered for me.
“I’m paying, so don’t worry.”
“……”
At those words, my mother smiled proudly and headed back into the kitchen.
Mom…!
Before long, the dishes began filling the table one after another.
If he really did like Korean food, then that much was true; the huge man was surprisingly skillful with chopsticks.
“……”
And then my jaw dropped open.
He had just folded an entire pajeon like it was a hamburger and stuffed the whole thing into his mouth…
“…Oh, this is the best pajeon of my life.”
“……”
“Shotgun, your father’s as much a genius as you are. Different field, same thing.”
About thirty minutes later, the table was spotless.
Every last dish had been emptied.
He really finished all of that?
The huge man patted his stomach and headed to the counter.
The moment he pulled out his wallet, my father waved his hand.
“No, no. It’s fine. If you’re Geon’s best friend, just go.”
“Ayyyy, no way, sir. Absolutely no way.”
The huge man shook his head.
Then he placed a hand over his chest and said,
“If you don’t charge me money for food like this, then I’m the one committing a sin.”
“Oh, it’s really fine.”
“Sir. Please. I don’t want to be some rude-ass guy.”
You lunatic!
You were shoving your face at me threateningly just the other day!
“On my mama, if I don’t pay, I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
My father glanced at me, then shook his head as if he had no choice.
So the huge man ran his card.
With a tip added too.
“Ma’am, sir, I’ll get going now. Shotgun, I’m out. See you again!”
“Come by again, Geon’s friend.”
“Haha, take care on your way home.”
“……”
Only then did the huge man finally head outside.
Park Yul must have hidden somewhere out of fear, because she hadn’t shown her face once since earlier.
After the door closed, my father gave my back a light pat.
“Geon-ah, that friend of yours seems like a good guy.”
“……”
That night.
I was lying there, staring at the ceiling.
My mind was a mess.
My family’s location has been exposed.
What if the Crips gang held a grudge against me?
That worry was spiraling into more worries when—
Bzzzt—
The phone beside my pillow vibrated.
I reflexively checked the screen.
[Dustin: Shotgun]
…Dustin.
That was the huge man’s real name.
We had even exchanged messenger contacts during the meal earlier.
There had been no way for me to refuse.
I was afraid he’d shove his face in mine again.
[Dustin: Big Joe’s asking if you can finish the beat you made that day.]
What?
[Dustin: $2,000 upfront. Another $2,000 when it’s done.]
…What?!
My eyes flew open.
I kicked off the blanket and shot upright on the bed.
Four thousand dollars.
For a college student like me, that was an absurd amount of money.
It would more than cover a semester’s textbook costs, I could buy a new laptop, and considering I earned fifteen dollars an hour helping at my parents’ restaurant, it was the kind of money that would take around three hundred hours of work to make.
And they’re offering that for one beat?
For the kind of hobby-level result I had never even uploaded to SoundCloud?
There’s no way.
I needed to think about this rationally.
I decided to figure out what these gang members were really after.
This is obviously…
Something I had learned in criminal law flashed through my mind.
Money laundering.
Disguising dirty money as a legitimate transaction.
They would funnel criminal funds under the pretense of payment for beat production, and the moment I accepted it, I would become an accomplice.
From the gang’s perspective, what could be easier than slipping an Asian college student into their money-laundering pipeline?
Even if the police traced it, if they said, “It’s payment for beat production,” then on the surface it would look like a legal transaction.
There’s no way they’d offer this kind of amount to an amateur nobody like me in the first place.
What if the FBI tracked gang funds and it led to my bank account?
—Park Geon arrested as an accomplice in Crips money laundering.
Expelled from UCLA Law School.
Permanently disbarred before I could even become a lawyer.
My parents’ restaurant would also become a target of investigation.
A person whose dream was to become a lawyer was going to wind up in prison.
Cold sweat ran down my back.
…Yeah. It was definitely that.
I understood what they were after, but at the same time, I was worried.
My family’s location had already been exposed.
If I refused here, would they retaliate?
[Dustin: Big Joe’s asking if you can finish the beat you made that day.]
I stared fixedly at the message.
If this were coercion, they wouldn’t have asked it like this.
That was a relief.
With trembling fingers, I typed out a reply.
[Park Geon: Sry bro, I don’t think I can do that.]
“Whew…”
That was close.
I almost got dragged into something huge.
At the same time.
South LA, Crips hideout.
“OG, listen to this.”
Dustin came over, flailing both arms.
“I ran into him in Koreatown today, right? Shotgun? But you know what he said?”
Big Joe took a long puff on his cigar.
“What’d he say?”
“Inspiration! He said inspiration flashed! Like, flashed!”
Dustin’s finger shot toward the ceiling.
“Like lightning, OG! Bam! It hit him in the head!”
“……”
“That’s why he ran straight home without telling anybody that day! To work on music!”
Jamal, who had been playing pool nearby, turned his head.
“On my mama, for real? Dude’s an artist then.”
“I’m telling you, for real! Guys like him, OG, you gotta lock ’em in before the inspiration disappears. The moment you start talking to them, poof, the inspiration’s gone.”
Dustin made a gesture with his hand like something flying away.
“Fwoooosh—!”
“……”
“He’s the kind of guy who has his own zone, whether we’re there or not. When it comes to music, everything else disappears, OG!”
Jamal nodded.
“I’ll give him that. The second he sat down in front of the keyboard, his eyes changed.”
“Changed? It was way beyond that! He turned into a completely different person!”
Throwing both hands into the air, Dustin shouted,
“No, seriously, does inspiration usually hit in a situation like that? When everything around you is chaos? A normal person would get hyped up and party with everybody else, not suddenly go, ‘Ah, I need to go work’ and bail.”
“Damn, now that you mention it, even while that sick-ass beat was coming together, he didn’t bounce to the rhythm once. He just stood there focused only on the work.”
“Exactly! How is that even possible? Jamal, could you do that?”
“Hell no. Did you not see me that day? The freestyle just started pouring out of me on its own.”
“That shit was fire.”
Big Joe narrowed his eyes slightly.
…Shit.
How many rapper hopefuls and beatmaker hopefuls had he seen in this game over the years?
There were plenty of guys who called themselves geniuses, but very few who were genuinely possessed by inspiration.
That rarity was what made them valuable.
Shotgun’s finger movements that day were still burned into his mind.
The speed with which he stacked the kick and snare.
The texture when the bassline came in.
That moment when the drop hit.
So the bastard wasn’t bluffing after all.
Dustin shrugged.
“And Shotgun’s parents run a Korean restaurant in Koreatown! The food there was in-sane!”
Big Joe had no interest in that part.
There was only one thing he cared about.
“The beat. The finished version?”
“Ah, not yet, he said. But I already messaged Shotgun, so he should reply soon.”
Jamal leaned his cue stick against the table and cut in.
“How much’d you offer him?”
“Four grand total. Two thousand upfront, two thousand when it’s done.”
Jamal let out a whistle.
Big Joe leaned his head back and exhaled a long stream of smoke.
That should be enough.
He was still an unnamed producer.
A guy who had never once shown his face in the scene.
For a first deal, four thousand dollars was already generous.
Bzzzt—
Dustin’s phone buzzed.
“Oh? It’s here.”
He checked the screen.
Then his eyebrows shot up.
“…He turned it down.”
The room went silent.
Only the sound of pool balls rolling across the table remained—clack, roll.
Jamal’s eyes widened.
“He turned it down?”
Big Joe’s face twisted into a scowl.
He turned down four thousand dollars?
That no-name producer?
At that moment,
something shot through Big Joe’s mind like electricity.
Ah.
Now he understood.
He understood perfectly.
This guy named Shotgun—
four thousand dollars just wasn’t enough for someone of his skill level.
In other words, he was telling them to come back with a higher number.
Huh. Thought he was just some nerd, but he’s got some nerve on him.
“So he thinks four thousand isn’t enough for what he can do.”
“Really? You mean he’s that confident in himself?”
A crooked grin curled Big Joe’s mouth.
Slowly, he rose to his feet.
“Dustin.”
“Yo, OG.”
“You go to Koreatown tomorrow. You know that equipment he left behind that day?”
“Ah, the MIDI keyboard?”
“Take that and go meet him in person.”
“Aight.”
Big Joe ground out his cigar in the ashtray and continued,
“And tell him this.”
“…?”
At the words that followed, Dustin’s eyes flew wide open.
Today, just like always, I was helping out at the restaurant.
“Geon-ah, if you’re tired, you can take a break.”
“I’m fine.”
Right then—
Bzzzt—
A vibration came from my pocket.
With a sinking feeling, I checked it.
“…?”
I almost collapsed on the spot.
Unlike last time, this wasn’t a question.
…It was a threat.