Three Eight
Author: Guwol
Chapter 11
"I remember the password."
Hongju pressed the numbers on the door lock slowly. 989796. He tapped the star symbol at the end and double-checked to make sure he had entered it correctly.
"Yes, yes, Hongju-ssi."
Doksu nodded. Unlike the other employees at the gambling house, his tone was soft. Instead of barking out, "Hey, you bastard, Hongju!" without a shred of courtesy, he consistently addressed him with a polite "Hongju-ssi."
Unlike the others, who had already checked his age and started speaking informally, Hongju had never asked Doksu any questions.
"Come in."
Hongju stepped inside first. From the entrance, the unmade blanket was immediately visible. The air was thick with the scent of unfinished ramen and uncovered kimchi, sharp and lingering. Choi and the thug weren’t the type to keep things tidy, so cleaning the house was entirely Hongju’s responsibility.
Annoyed, he stomped inside, yanked open the blackout curtains, and pushed the window open. Through the square frame, he could see the snow-covered ground and the parked cars with tires half-buried in white.
"This is better than I expected."
Hongju had no idea what kind of mess Doksu had been picturing, but he seemed oddly satisfied despite the state of the place. Relieved, Hongju halfheartedly tidied up anything that stood out as too messy and continued introducing the place. There wasn’t much to say—he mostly just pointed things out.
"That's the bathroom. Laundry goes over there."
"Do we clean together?"
"Whoever has time does it. We go grocery shopping every two weeks, but mostly we just eat ramen."
"Ohh, I like ramen."
Though Doksu kept throwing in little reactions that interrupted him, Hongju ignored them and simply continued speaking.
"Put your stuff over there."
Doksu’s "stuff" was just a single bag and a shopping bag. Without even taking off his coat, he pulled a pristine suit from the shopping bag. Apparently, Guppping had paid for it as part of his contract. The bastard had bragged about it so much that Hongju had practically memorized how much it cost and how it needed to be washed.
"I'm gonna shower first. The hot water takes a while to come."
"Ah. Alright, then."
The bathroom was freezing. When Hongju turned the faucet, ice-cold water gushed out. He let it run and took a look at his reflection in the mirror. The bruises on his body had started to fade, only to darken into deep purples again. His split lip and swollen cheek were still a mess.
"I thought it was getting better."
Shutting his eyes, he poured water over himself. The icy chill seeped into his skin, washing away his exhaustion.
After shaking the water from his hair with a towel, he stepped out of the bathroom. Doksu was on the phone in a short-sleeved shirt.
"Right now? Ah, I'm just gonna shower and sleep."
The laundry basket was nearly full. He'd have to do the wash after Doksu finished showering. Tossing his clothes into the pile, Hongju pulled down the stiff, dried clothes from the rack.
"If it's okay, I can go with you tomorrow too."
Judging from the conversation, it sounded like Guppping. Hongju’s hands, folding a towel, hesitated. Unconsciously, he listened more closely.
"Aigoo, see you soon."
Doksu ended the call in a playful tone and stretched as he stood up.
"Guppping’s heading out for a game at this hour. Some swimming pool? A construction site? Something like that."
"It's a plywood shack in the next neighborhood."
The abandoned sports center had been deserted since it went bankrupt. The place was so empty and eerie that gamblers had taken to gathering there in groups to set up games.
"Robbing poor old men of their money. Alright, I'm gonna wash up."
Hongju simply nodded and kept folding the towel.
Click. The bathroom door locked, and soon after, the sound of running water filled the air. Hongju, who had been folding and unfolding the same towel over and over, quietly stood up. With careful fingers, he opened the chest pocket of his padded jacket and pulled out his phone. The screen flickered briefly before displaying properly. He hurried into the messaging app.
[Playing hwatu. At the old ocean sports center.]
He clumsily typed the message and sent it before erasing any traces. Just then, a silent message notification popped up on his screen.
[ㅋㅋ]
He tilted his head in confusion. A vibration followed. Was it Doksu’s phone? He tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from and reached for his jacket pocket. The phone Yang Siljang had given him was lighting up.
"Yes."
Hongju pressed the numbers on the door lock slowly. 989796. He tapped the star symbol at the end and double-checked to make sure he had entered it correctly.
"Yes, yes, Hongju-ssi."
Doksu nodded. Unlike the other employees at the gambling house, his tone was soft. Instead of barking out, "Hey, you bastard, Hongju!" without a shred of courtesy, he consistently addressed him with a polite "Hongju-ssi."
Unlike the others, who had already checked his age and started speaking informally, Hongju had never asked Doksu any questions.
"Come in."
Hongju stepped inside first. From the entrance, the unmade blanket was immediately visible. The air was thick with the scent of unfinished ramen and uncovered kimchi, sharp and lingering. Choi and the thug weren’t the type to keep things tidy, so cleaning the house was entirely Hongju’s responsibility.
Annoyed, he stomped inside, yanked open the blackout curtains, and pushed the window open. Through the square frame, he could see the snow-covered ground and the parked cars with tires half-buried in white.
"This is better than I expected."
Hongju had no idea what kind of mess Doksu had been picturing, but he seemed oddly satisfied despite the state of the place. Relieved, Hongju halfheartedly tidied up anything that stood out as too messy and continued introducing the place. There wasn’t much to say—he mostly just pointed things out.
"That's the bathroom. Laundry goes over there."
"Do we clean together?"
"Whoever has time does it. We go grocery shopping every two weeks, but mostly we just eat ramen."
"Ohh, I like ramen."
Though Doksu kept throwing in little reactions that interrupted him, Hongju ignored them and simply continued speaking.
"Put your stuff over there."
Doksu’s "stuff" was just a single bag and a shopping bag. Without even taking off his coat, he pulled a pristine suit from the shopping bag. Apparently, Guppping had paid for it as part of his contract. The bastard had bragged about it so much that Hongju had practically memorized how much it cost and how it needed to be washed.
"I'm gonna shower first. The hot water takes a while to come."
"Ah. Alright, then."
The bathroom was freezing. When Hongju turned the faucet, ice-cold water gushed out. He let it run and took a look at his reflection in the mirror. The bruises on his body had started to fade, only to darken into deep purples again. His split lip and swollen cheek were still a mess.
"I thought it was getting better."
Shutting his eyes, he poured water over himself. The icy chill seeped into his skin, washing away his exhaustion.
After shaking the water from his hair with a towel, he stepped out of the bathroom. Doksu was on the phone in a short-sleeved shirt.
"Right now? Ah, I'm just gonna shower and sleep."
The laundry basket was nearly full. He'd have to do the wash after Doksu finished showering. Tossing his clothes into the pile, Hongju pulled down the stiff, dried clothes from the rack.
"If it's okay, I can go with you tomorrow too."
Judging from the conversation, it sounded like Guppping. Hongju’s hands, folding a towel, hesitated. Unconsciously, he listened more closely.
"Aigoo, see you soon."
Doksu ended the call in a playful tone and stretched as he stood up.
"Guppping’s heading out for a game at this hour. Some swimming pool? A construction site? Something like that."
"It's a plywood shack in the next neighborhood."
The abandoned sports center had been deserted since it went bankrupt. The place was so empty and eerie that gamblers had taken to gathering there in groups to set up games.
"Robbing poor old men of their money. Alright, I'm gonna wash up."
Hongju simply nodded and kept folding the towel.
Click. The bathroom door locked, and soon after, the sound of running water filled the air. Hongju, who had been folding and unfolding the same towel over and over, quietly stood up. With careful fingers, he opened the chest pocket of his padded jacket and pulled out his phone. The screen flickered briefly before displaying properly. He hurried into the messaging app.
[Playing hwatu. At the old ocean sports center.]
He clumsily typed the message and sent it before erasing any traces. Just then, a silent message notification popped up on his screen.
[ㅋㅋ]
He tilted his head in confusion. A vibration followed. Was it Doksu’s phone? He tried to pinpoint where the sound was coming from and reached for his jacket pocket. The phone Yang Siljang had given him was lighting up.
"Yes."