Chapter 2
Choi Jun, having finished his can of coffee, led the way with Hongju and the thug trailing behind him. The inside was already bustling with activity. Upon reaching the third floor, they found Manager Yang with his legs propped up on an old metal desk. He lifted the eyepatch he was wearing, revealing his wrinkled, closed eyelids.
"Hey, Hongju, got beaten up pretty bad by the post office guy? I heard he used to be a boxer back in his day."
Hongju frowned involuntarily at Yang's teasing tone. The area around his swollen eye still throbbed painfully.
"I've deposited the collections."
"Yeah, I saw. You'll be waiting tables in the house for a while."
"What about Uncle?"
Hongju asked nonchalantly, already aware from what Choi Jun had told him but probing nonetheless.
"That bastard spilled the beans. Didn’t you know? After getting a few ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) tips, he started making deals with the guests. You'll fill in for now. Despite being beaten up, your face is still the best looking around here."
It was nonsense. Sacking someone for absurd reasons like those was either a way to cut costs or due to some other hidden agendas. Still, Hongju wasn’t particularly close to Uncle, so it didn’t bother him much.
"What are you waiting for? Are we going to make money or not? Move it!"
A loud clap echoed through the cold, lifeless interior. Hongju sniffled and zipped up his padding to the top. Normally, he would be out collecting debts, but today it seemed he was stuck waiting tables inside.
"Hongju, if you see anyone smoking, tell them to stop. Politely."