Meeting the Devil
The subway station thronged with people rushing every which way.
Office workers ducking out for lunch as noon drew near, passengers simply trying to get from one place to another—all kinds of faces blurred past in a constant stream.
A train must have just pulled in; a flood of bodies poured out through the ticket gates.
Among them was one figure who stood out at once: hood yanked down to the eyebrows, a mask covering the rest of the face until even the gender was impossible to guess. Everything about the person radiated suspicion.
"Exit 3 should be… this way, right?"
A young man's voice, still edged with boyishness.
He hitched his backpack higher on his shoulders as if terrified someone might snatch it. That man was Kim Seojin, and today he had arranged to meet Mummy Hunter at subway Exit 3.
He had agreed to trade his mother's underwear with Mummy Hunter—someone he had only ever spoken to online.
No matter how friendly they had become over the internet, Seojin would never have considered such a dangerous deal with a stranger. But the "item" the man had offered in return was far too tempting to refuse.
I deliberately picked a meeting spot far from home. If he turns out to be weird, I can just leave.
Mummy Hunter was every bit as sex-obsessed as Seojin himself—that much was certain. But if the man proved dangerous beyond that, Seojin intended to run without a second's hesitation.
Having arrived early, Seojin claimed a seat in a café that offered a clear view of the meeting spot.
Wearing the hood and mask even inside the café would look way too suspicious, wouldn't it?
Sweat was already beading on his skin from the stifling outfit, so he pulled off the hood and mask and pretended to be just another ordinary guy enjoying lunch.
The closer the appointed time drew, the stronger the urge to turn around and go home became. And yet, having come this far, another thirst grew alongside it—the craving to see someone else who was just as consumed by lust as he was.
How long did he kill time sipping coffee?
His phone chimed, announcing a new message.
"He's here already?"
The brief text on the screen was from Mummy Hunter, letting him know he had arrived a little ahead of schedule.
Seojin hurriedly pulled his hood back up, fixed his mask in place, and scanned the crowded meeting spot with sharp eyes.
Black jacket, white T-shirt, black pants, and a pair of completely mismatched red socks—that's what he said he'd be wearing, right?
Mummy Hunter had only described his own appearance, as if to earn Seojin's trust, and had asked nothing about Seojin's looks or clothes in return.
It was the kind of detail that instantly revealed how many times the man had done this sort of rendezvous before, and Seojin's wariness spiked even higher. Still, he had come all this way to meet him.
Scanning the area, Seojin had no trouble spotting a man dressed exactly as described.
"That's Mummy Hunter?"
Seojin looked the ordinary-looking man up and down several times as he stood at the meeting spot staring at his phone.
There was no mistaking those absurd red socks. Unlike Seojin, who was wrapped up tight, the man wore neither a hat nor a mask—just his bare face, radiating an almost arrogant confidence.
"Huh…? He's surprisingly normal."
Seojin's first impression of Mummy Hunter was simply: ordinary.
It was hard to believe this man in his early thirties ran a filthy channel devoted to incest content. He had a pleasant, almost likable face and an easygoing air about him.
Whether he worked out or not, the clean posture and neat bearing suggested someone who could win a stranger's trust without much effort.
Even now, if he melted into the crowd streaming past on the street, he would vanish in an instant—the kind of forgettable face you could find anywhere.
Seojin deliberately replied that he would be running a bit behind, then waited to see how the man would react.
Mummy Hunter checked the message without the slightest flicker of irritation. Instead he told Seojin to take his time, wandered over to a nearby convenience store, bought a drink, and killed time with casual ease.
After watching him for another thirty minutes or so, Seojin decided further observation was pointless. He left the café and walked slowly toward the man.
Mummy Hunter had been idly playing with his empty drink can. The moment the obviously suspicious figure approached, he looked up with a warm, easy smile and offered a greeting.
"Hey."
Seojin already knew from their online chats that the man was older, so of course he spoke casually—as if he were an older brother running into a younger sibling he hadn't seen in a while. The warmth of it left Seojin stammering.
"Uh, I mean… nice to meet you. I'm…"
For a split second Seojin nearly gave his real name. He caught himself and swallowed the words in a panic.
While he fumbled, Mummy Hunter extended a hand and introduced himself instead.
"Online I go by Mummy Hunter. Real name's Jung Taeyoung."
Seojin jolted at the sudden self-introduction.
Sensing his shock, the man who had just called himself Jung Taeyoung continued as if it were nothing at all.
"This kind of thing is about trust, so I figured I'd give my name first. You don't have to tell me yours if you don't want to. Here—my ID."
As if to prove the name was genuine, Jung Taeyoung casually produced his identification, offering up information that could easily become a weakness without the slightest hesitation.
That brazen confidence—the way he trampled over every one of Seojin's anxieties as if they were nothing—was more frightening than anything else.
How many people had this man dealt with already?
And how many women had been soiled by those hands?
A chill raced down Seojin's spine at the dangerous scent rolling off this ordinary-looking man.
Instinct told him the person standing in front of him was a beast of an entirely different caliber from the middle-aged man he had seen that night at the sauna.
"…"
Seojin stared down at the outstretched hand.
That hand was unmistakably the hand of a devil.
If he took it, he would be dragged somewhere he could never return from. He was certain of it.
And yet the writhing desire lodged deep in his restless chest screamed at him to grab hold of it.
If he shook off that hand and walked away now, he would never again be able to quench the hunger burning him alive. Convinced of that, Seojin carefully took the hand and shook it.
"……Kim Seojin."
The voice was barely a mumble, but the devil did not miss a syllable.
He squeezed Seojin's hand firmly, as if sealing a contract, and rolled the name across his tongue with open pleasure.
"Kim Seojin, huh. Looking forward to working with you."
With that, Jung Taeyoung started walking, drawing Seojin along with him down the street.
Seojin, still rigid with tension, hurried after him. As if he had been waiting for exactly that, Taeyoung asked,
"You eaten lunch yet?"
"Uh—ah… not yet."
Whether he was concerned about Seojin's dazed state or simply couldn't stand being hungry himself, Taeyoung steered them into an ordinary nearby restaurant.
"Let's talk while we eat. Order whatever you want. Hyung's treating."
Taeyoung ordered a main dish for himself along with a side, and when the waiting server's eyes landed on him, Seojin hastily picked a random main of his own.
The food arrived quickly. Seojin shoveled it down without tasting a thing, nerves still knotted tight, while Taeyoung kept up an easy stream of conversation.
The weather. Favorite foods. The kinds of women he liked.
Ordinary small talk meant to get to know each other, delivered in a calm, unhurried tone.
By the time they finished eating and sat over simple dessert and coffee, some of the tension had finally begun to ease.
"Feeling a little better now?"
Taeyoung spoke at the perfect moment, as if he could see straight into Seojin's head.
Seojin nearly sprayed coffee across the table. He barely managed to hold it in and stared at the man with startled eyes.
Taeyoung gave a low chuckle, the way someone might laugh at a cute little animal, and went on.
"You're not weird. Everyone's like this. Anyone would be tense—sizing the other person up, keeping their guard raised and their edges sharp."
He spoke as if he had met countless people just like Seojin and found none of it remarkable.
With that same unhurried air, he touched a fingertip to a droplet of water clinging to the side of his coffee cup, then tapped it onto the tabletop in a neat little row of dots.
"Everyone's the same. Just like these droplets—different shapes, different sizes. But the desire inside is identical. Mine. Yours. We're cut from the same cloth."
Taeyoung swirled the line of droplets with his fingertip, gathering them until they merged into one.
The separate little beads became a single large drop—but in the process they swallowed up the dust and food crumbs on the table, turning cloudy and murky.
Just like the black desire he kept crushed down deep in his chest.
While Seojin stared blankly at the droplet, the devil watched him with quiet intensity.
Beneath those easygoing black eyes, the same damp, filthy lust that lived in Seojin was swirling in a dark vortex.
The devil's mouth stretched wide, and a thin, unsettling smile rose to the surface.
"So… did you bring your mom's underwear?"
Seojin felt his heart, which had only just begun to settle, slam hard against his ribs.
Cold sweat slid down his back. Heat surged through his whole body like a furnace coming to life.
When Seojin gave a small nod, the devil rose to his feet, looking thoroughly satisfied.
"Then let's go."
Seojin didn't ask where.
He swallowed hard against a dry throat and hurried after the devil.