Chapter 4
Hongju turned his gaze toward Mukyung. His hair was slicked back, revealing a smooth forehead, but he didn’t look that old. Older than Hongju, probably, but definitely younger than Gubing or Yang Siljang. He seemed closer in age to Choi-goon, who was in his early thirties.
"......Isn't it obvious? I got hit."
He had taken his time picking his words carefully, making sure to leave out any curses or hints of irritation. Just as the corners of Mukyung’s lips lifted and he seemed ready to respond, a sharp voice cut through.
"Hey, Hongju! Bring some beers if you're here!"
Yang Siljang poked his head out from one of the rooms, motioning with his hand.
Screech.
The chair scraped roughly against the cement floor as Hongju stood. He stacked several cans of beer onto a tray. Even as he moved, he could feel Mukyung’s persistent gaze following him. Had he never seen a beaten-up face before? What was so damn fascinating?
Before stepping into the hallway, Hongju briefly turned his head. Mukyung was still sitting in his spot, resting his chin on his hand like he had all the time in the world.
"......."
Well. He wasn’t a gangster, from the looks of it. A guy that rich and well-dressed probably didn’t get many chances to see someone’s face beaten to a pulp. Hongju tore his gaze away and walked off.
The gambling house was even louder than usual. Hongju stuffed a stack of bills into the drawer and glanced outside. The snow was still falling so thickly that visibility was nearly zero. When he had arrived earlier, it had already reached his ankles. By now, it had probably piled up even higher.
"Guess that's why it's so damn loud in here."