Three Eight

"Let go."

"I'm not asking for more money."

Mu-gyeong scoffed, shaking off Hongju’s grip without hesitation.

Thɪs chapter is updated by NoᴠᴇFɪre.nᴇt

"Let go. Serves me right for trusting a cat to guard fish. You forgot you're a card player too."

"I—I wasn’t actually playing! I was just filling in for numbers."

"Oh, really?"

He dusted off his coat like he was shaking off something dirty, then strode over to the chair. Sitting down, he crossed one leg over the other, resting his polished shoe against the floor—spotless, not a speck of dirt on it. A neatly folded handkerchief lay beneath him, keeping even his seat immaculate.

"Yes. So I... I’m different from them."

Hongju clung to his argument like a lifeline. He had to keep this deal alive. There was no way he could get out of the gambling house on his own, but if Mu-gyeong helped, it would be possible. He knew that instinctively.

"I'm sorry for losing focus. I’ll find him—I’ll bring him here right away."

He had to prove he was useful. He had to find Guppping.

"And how do you plan on doing that?"