King
Smoke scattered on the wind.
From within the haze, Song Jong-in’s figure gradually emerged.
Kneeling on one knee with his sword held at a diagonal, he looked nothing like a man who had just been caught in a mana bomb. There were no major wounds—only the sleeve of his right arm hung in tatters.
The damage to the Samcheon Cult had been far worse. The protective railings were shattered beyond recognition of their original form, and fragments embedded throughout the bridge looked as if someone had deliberately set traps.
“Branch Manager! Are you all right?”
Kang I-jun came running up and asked urgently.
Clack…
Song Jong-in gave no answer. He sheathed his sword, rose to his feet, and looked around. His subordinates had gathered close around him—every last one of them, including Kang I-jun.
“…Y’all ain’t chasin’? Everyone just came runnin’ to me?”
“…….”
No reply came. Faces that had been painted with worry now took on a sheepish cast.
Tch…
Song Jong-in clicked his tongue. He could hardly scold subordinates who had been too worried about him to even think of pursuit. Though he suspected worry wasn’t the only reason.
…Look at the state of ’em.
“We’ll go after them right now.”
“Nah, forget it. Forget it. Cross the bridge and you’re right at City Hall. What’s the point?”
He waved a hand, stopping Kang I-jun. It was already too late to chase them now. Even if they had gone after them, it would have been right in front of City Hall—and Choi Heeseok would certainly be waiting there. Whether a scouting attempt was possible or not was secondary; stirring up trouble by chasing them that far was simply not the wise move.
“More importantly…”
Song Jong-in held out his left hand. The open-and-close motion of his fingers clearly meant Hand it over.
Kang I-jun, who had been staring in confusion, suddenly realized he was still holding the liquor. He hurriedly passed over the chrysanthemum wine; the lid came off with a soft click.
Gulp, gulp…
The clear liquor vanished in an instant, leaving less than half.
“Pwah…! That squinty-eyed kid—name’s Choi Yeon, right?”
“Yes, Branch Manager.”
“Interesting, ain’t it? Seonhwa Dongdae… not a monster, no. Yeah, a fox suits him better. They’ve been raising a little fox cub over there.”
“A fox, sir?”
“Yeah. Looks just like one, don’t he?”
Song Jong-in waved a hand in front of his face. Kang I-jun pictured Choi Yeon and a fox side by side in his mind, then nodded. There was a resemblance.
“Moonlight calisthenics are over. Let’s head back.”
“Will you be all right?”
“Huh? About what?”
“It was an order from above. If we just go back like this—”
“I’ll get an earful, sure. And?”
“…….”
“What, you worried I’ll get fired or something?”
“Of course not.”
Kang I-jun immediately shook his head. Anyone who would cut the man standing in front of them over something like this would have to be a fool. And if Amhyanghoe really were an organization of such idiots, he would simply feel sorry for them.
“Then there’s no problem, is there?”
With those words, Amhyanghoe left the scene.
Just before they fully cleared the bridge, Song Jong-in’s footsteps came to an abrupt halt. A luxury car sat parked in the middle of the three-way fork in the road. A man stood in front of it.
Neatly slicked-back hair, an immaculate suit—it was Park Do-kyeong.
Sss…
Park Do-kyeong slowly pushed himself off the car he had been leaning against. Hands still in his pockets, he faced Song Jong-in.
“…Ha, hahaha!”
Laughter burst from Song Jong-in’s mouth. His free right hand smacked his forehead with a sharp thwack.
“That’s it! Of course! I thought it was weird. Senior ain’t the type to just back off that easily…!”
“…….”
“You were plannin’ to step in and rescue him if we managed to scout him, weren’t you? This ain’t some ’88 movie… What era do you think this is? That scenario’s ancient.”
“…Yeah. Good to see you too, Song Jong-in.”
“Good to see me, my ass. Since when have we been that kind of close…?”
Song Jong-in grumbled. Every time he did, the faces of the Amhyanghoe members behind him went pale. Park Do-kyeong’s expressionless face was steadily shifting into something far more dangerous.
Song Jong-in was looking at the same face, so he cut his grumbling short and tossed out a question.
“You saw the whole thing and you’re still hangin’ around? Here to gawk at the failure—no, to laugh at us?”
“Hardly. I don’t have that kind of bad taste.”
“Then why haven’t you left?”
“To scout.”
“…Who?”
“…….”
Park Do-kyeong did not answer. He simply kept looking—at Song Jong-in, the one who had asked the question. As if to say, You.
Meeting that gaze, Song Jong-in let out a scornful snort.
“Puhuhu… Nothing for you here. Go on home.”
“Song Jong-in. I have no intention of ending as merely the best in Chungcheong.”
“Yeah. There ain’t a single idiot here who doesn’t know that.”
“No. Right now, you don’t know. What I’m actually saying.”
“What do you mean… Wait. Don’t tell me?”
Song Jong-in realized Park Do-kyeong’s true purpose almost immediately. At the same moment, pressure erupted from Park Do-kyeong.
Thud. Thud!
Every member of Amhyanghoe dropped to their knees. Withstanding the crushing force from above was no easy feat. Only Song Jong-in remained upright among his subordinates. Kang I-jun, standing right behind him, managed to stay on his feet as well—but only by clenching his teeth and barely holding on.
“The King’s Throne… You planning to kill us all?”
“…….”
“Hoo. Fine. Don’t go thinking I’ll die nice and quiet for you.”
Song Jong-in gripped the hilt of his sword.
Whoosh…
The instant he did, the pressure pouring from Park Do-kyeong vanished like smoke.
“Don’t jump to conclusions, Song Jong-in. I already told you.”
“……?”
“I came to scout.”
Today.
Park Do-kyeong spoke with deliberate weight. Behind Song Jong-in, someone swallowed hard. The sound of pure fear was plain, but no one could blame them. Even Song Jong-in himself had wanted to do the same.
“As advice for a junior… the shorter the deliberation, the better.”
“…….”
“I hope you understand. I mean it.”
With that, Park Do-kyeong climbed into the car. He sat in the driver’s seat, started the engine, and drove away. Through it all, Song Jong-in never took his hand off the hilt. His fingers had gone white.
Thud!
Only when the car was completely out of sight did Kang I-jun collapse into a sitting position. At last Song Jong-in released the hilt and turned around.
“Y’all okay?”
“…I’m sorry.”
While the others could only groan and fail to answer, Kang I-jun alone managed a reply.
“Nah, it’s fine. Just standing your ground in front of the King’s Throne is already impressive. That’s Amhyanghoe’s young blood for you.”
Pat, pat.
Song Jong-in clapped Kang I-jun on the shoulder. The pure praise made Kang I-jun grit his teeth. He had barely managed to stay upright, and being complimented for it was embarrassing. Out of sheer awkwardness he changed the subject.
“…What will you do now?”
“What, worried I’ll betray Amhyanghoe and jump to Pakator?”
“As if I would think that.”
“Well, I could betray them, you know…”
“Branch Manager?”
“Just an example. An example.”
Song Jong-in took a drink of the chrysanthemum wine. This time he did not down it in one go; he held a mouthful and rolled it around before swallowing.
Gulp…
“You think there’s a paradise waitin’ over there?”
“Sir?”
“You think that man would put someone who’s already stepped into the shadows to work out in the light?”
“…….”
Kang I-jun said nothing. He did not need to. Song Jong-in was thinking the exact same thing. At best he would be used as a fixer in the dark.
Click.
Song Jong-in capped the bottle and looked around. The empty roadway suddenly seemed to split before him.
“…A fork in the road, huh.”
Song Jong-in muttered his dilemma. Stay loyal to Amhyanghoe, or betray them and become a hunting dog.
So deep in thought was he that he failed to notice one simple truth.
A fork in the road is never just two paths.
The aroma of freshly baked bread climbed the stairs. It spread across the second floor and drifted toward the window-side table.
Clack…
A warm Ondang milk butter bread and an Americano were set down. Choi Yeon and Cha Jae-hyeok, seated across from each other, both turned their heads toward Kim In-beom, who had brought the bread. Their simultaneous movement was almost comical.
Kim In-beom dragged a chair over and sat.
“What, were you waiting for the bread to come out?”
“No. I was waiting for Yeon to start talking.”
Cha Jae-hyeok answered and looked at Choi Yeon. He slowly lifted the coffee cup with his right hand, first savoring the aroma before taking a sip. While Cha Jae-hyeok lost himself in the coffee’s fragrance, Kim In-beom asked instead.
“You’re here because of that business, right? The thing that kept Seonbae busy for two straight days.”
“…Something like that.”
“I heard you worked overtime Friday and then all day Saturday… Don’t tell me you came just to complain about getting stuck with a pain-in-the-ass job?”
“No.”
“That’s a relief. So what did you decide about the tattooist?”
“…….”
Choi Yeon fixed Kim In-beom with a steady gaze. After a few seconds of that stare, Kim In-beom started reading the room. His index finger nervously scratched his neck.
What? Why’s he looking at me like that? Is he about to open his eyes?
“Uh, did I mess something up? I was just asking out of curiosity…”
“The tattooist is still considering the partnership terms City Hall proposed.”
“So nothing’s decided yet?”
“Right.”
“Well, that makes sense. Her whole world changed overnight.”
Choi Yeon nodded in place of a verbal answer, then closed his mouth. Only the warm scent of bread quietly circled the table. Looking at Choi Yeon’s dissatisfied face and Cha Jae-hyeok, who was still only enjoying the coffee’s aroma, Kim In-beom began to think he should not have sat down at all. Just as the regret of not holding back his curiosity started to sprout—
“…Why did you tell us?”
The voice slipped out. Cha Jae-hyeok set his coffee cup down with a soft clack and turned his gaze on Choi Yeon. Choi Yeon continued immediately.
“Park Do-kyeong came looking for that tattooist. In person, to scout her.”
“I see.”
“…Amhyanghoe was after her too.”
“Sounds like a real mess.”
Cha Jae-hyeok replied with easy composure. Even the names Park Do-kyeong and Amhyanghoe failed to disturb his leisurely mood. It was a stark contrast to Kim In-beom, whose eyes had lit up with interest.
“…But you didn’t. At a time when you could have quietly pulled her in and no one would have known, you went and told our Dongdae instead.”
Had he failed to recognize the true value of the tattoo Lee Chae-young had engraved? No. If that had been the case, he never would have come to Choi Yeon in the first place saying something strange was going on.
A small smile tugged at the corner of Cha Jae-hyeok’s mouth.
“So that’s what you were curious about—enough to come find me first thing Sunday morning?”
“…….”
“Shame. I thought maybe you’d finally decided to join Nubyeok.”
“Have I lost my mind?”
“You haven’t?”
Cha Jae-hyeok’s unhurried reply drew a clear “川” of irritation between Choi Yeon’s brows. Watching the two of them, Kim In-beom couldn’t help a short snicker—until that same “川” turned on him. Ahem, ahem! He cleared his throat a couple of times and looked away.
“Yeon.”
Cha Jae-hyeok called his name. The soft voice carried no hesitation.
“I created Nubyeok to protect these streets. Not to pile more chaos onto them.”
And then—
“To protect these streets, that kind of power isn’t necessary.”
Cha Jae-hyeok’s voice continued, clear and full of quiet confidence. Perhaps because of that, Choi Yeon thought he heard the words that had never actually been spoken.
Because I’m here.
Cha Jae-hyeok smiled.
Leaving Byeokondang, Choi Yeon headed for Tuyoung Studio. Since he was in the area, he figured he would pick up the scooter he had left parked out front two days earlier. Tomorrow’s commute would be easier that way.
Thinking that, he sat on the scooter—only for the front basket to catch his eye. The basket that had definitely been empty now held a glass bottle.
Whoosh…
A sweet fragrance filled his nose. The image of a man with half-lidded eyes and a sparse beard rose in his mind. Not exactly a welcome face.
“This is… a bit of a problem…”
He muttered as he picked up the bottle. The clear liquor inside sloshed invitingly. Click—he opened the lid and took in the scent. Sweet. The taste would be the same…
“…Chrysanthemum wine, huh? Sweet and pretty good.”
He licked his lips, closed the bottle, and put it back in the basket. He would take it tomorrow and offer some to Heeseok-hyung as well.
Thinking that, he started the scooter—then immediately shut it off. He covered his face with both palms as if burying it.
“Ah… I just drank, didn’t I…”