Double Junk - 180

“Hyung… your voice is really nice.”

Without any thought, Ajin blurted out his impression. Surprised by the sudden comment, Seokju remained silent for a moment before asking worriedly.

“…Have you had a lot to drink?”

“Huh? I don’t think I drank much… No, maybe just a bit. A little bit.”

“…”

“But I can’t walk. It feels like the elevator has disappeared. Can you… come get me?”

Ajin pouted his lips. Saying it out loud made him feel upset. Why would the elevator just vanish? It made no sense.

“I’ll be right there.”

“Okay. I’m hanging up.”

“Don’t hang up. Just keep the phone with you.”

Ajin, who had been about to put his phone down, obediently brought it back to his ear. Even though holding the phone was inconvenient, heavy, and bothersome, he couldn’t ignore what Seokju said.

“Yes… I’ll keep holding it…”

Ajin responded diligently, then let out a deep sigh. As they talked, his body felt even hotter. His eyes burned. He squeezed them shut, trying to cool the heat, but through the receiver, he could hear Seokju moving.

The sound of a car door opening. The beep of the car locking. The sharp click of shoes briskly crossing a smooth floor. The faint sound of breathing.

The sounds of Seokju coming to him.

Listening blankly, Ajin suddenly frowned deeply.

“Hyung… I feel really… awful. My stomach doesn’t feel good either…”

His chest churned. It felt like he’d drunk sesame oil as if it were water, leaving him nauseated. His body was limp, and on top of that, he felt hot. He wanted to strip completely and lie spread out on the floor. But he was the son of a respectable family, so he decided to sit leaning against the wall to maintain some dignity.

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay…”

Ajin sighed heavily, and then Seokju’s calm voice asked him a question.

“Did you have fun today?”

“I ate some delicious cake.”

Ajin replied absentmindedly, and he heard a soft chuckle from the other side.

“Sounds like the cake made you happy.”

“And Ju-hyuk liked his gift.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“Yes, that’s a relief…”

Ajin brushed his forehead with his hand, which came away damp with sweat. Seeing such clear evidence of the heat only made the burning sensation worse. Ajin groaned and whined softly.

“Hyung… I’m so hot. It’s too hot…”

“I’m almost there.”

Ajin banged his head against the wall. His body felt like it was on fire. His skin and muscles felt as if they were melting like ice cream under the scorching sun. He missed Seokju’s touch. He wanted those large, firm hands of his to caress his cheek as they had before.

Ajin exhaled heavily, his breath labored from the fever, when a pair of shoes came into view before him. Ajin didn’t lift his head, but he knew the shoes didn’t belong to Seokju. His shoes were always clean, and these shoes had scuffed toes and water stains from the rain.

“Sir, are you okay?”

The owner of the worn shoes spoke. Ajin slowly raised his face. A stranger stood there.

The man wore the uniform of the staff working in this building, along with cheap cubic zirconia earrings. He was tall, had a solid build—not slim, but not obese either—and his physique was the kind elders might call “impressive.” His head was closely shaved in a buzz cut, and his eyes crinkled with a smile as he looked at Ajin.

Ajin stared blankly at the man. His face seemed vaguely familiar, but no matter how much Ajin looked, he couldn’t figure out who he was. He shouldn’t know anyone in this world.

As he mulled it over, Ajin finally noticed the name tag on the man’s chest, a few beats late.

[STAFF Kwak Changdu]

Kwak Changdu. A strange name.

Noticing Ajin’s gaze, Changdu covered his name tag with his hand, all the while scanning Ajin thoroughly. From his black shirt, which looked like it was made from fine fabric, to his porcelain skin untouched by the sun, his drunkenly slumped body, his spotless and shiny shoes, and the expensive watch on his wrist.

Changdu extended a hand toward Ajin.

“Let me help you.”

“No, no. It’s fine. My hyung is coming soon.”

Ajin tilted the phone he was holding to show him. Changdu squinted slightly at the gesture.

“Sir, who is that?”

“Huh… just a staff member.”

A friendly staff member. Ajin lazily replied and waved his hand dismissively at Changdu.

“Just go.”

But Changdu didn’t leave. He twisted his lips before suddenly grabbing Ajin’s wrist.

“I told you, let me help you.”

With a sudden rough pull, the phone Ajin was holding slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor.

“Oh…”

Ajin reached out to grab the phone, but Changdu seized his other elbow.

“Cell phone, cell phone.”

Ajin twisted his shoulders, trying to escape the grip on him. But Changdu’s strength was overwhelming. Ajin struggled, but his body flailed helplessly, unable to slip free from his grasp. With alcohol and drugs clouding his senses, Ajin’s already feeble strength was no match.

Changdu glanced around, checking for any witnesses. Then, he began walking toward a black-painted door, blending into the wall so well it was nearly invisible unless closely observed. Half-dragged by his hand, Ajin was pulled along like a piece of luggage.

“You seem quite drunk. Let’s rest here for a while, sir,” Changdu said.

“No, I’m fine… Let go of me, please…”

“If you stay here, you’ll disturb the other customers.”

Changdu ignored Ajin’s protests completely. Ajin frowned as he watched his phone grow further away. This wasn’t right. Seokju would hate this—or worse, worry. Why was this overly friendly staff member causing such trouble?

Ajin, with his mind more than half gone, couldn’t fully grasp the seriousness of the situation. All he could do was stare blankly at his phone as it receded from view.

Changdu opened the black door and slid Ajin inside like a bowling ball. The sleek marble floor of the hallway caused Ajin to glide deep into the space.

Before closing the door, Changdu checked the hallway one more time. However, he didn’t lock it, as if confident no one would enter this hidden, nearly inaccessible area.

Ajin, slumped on the floor, rolled his eyes around to survey the space.

The room wasn’t very large. It was hot and stuffy, lacking air conditioning, and reeked of dust. Stacks of unidentified boxes lined the sides, some of them open, revealing tissues, liquor, and utensils.

On one wall was a small projector window. In the corner stood a shabby chair, with a paper cup beneath it filled with cigarette butts. It seemed to be a secret resting spot for Changdu.

Ajin finished his quick scan of the space and tried to push himself off the floor.

“I need to leave. If I stay here, Seokju hyung might have trouble finding me.”

At that moment, Changdu approached in long strides, stopping right in front of Ajin. He grabbed Ajin’s wrist roughly, exposing the high-end watch that cost well over hundreds of millions of won. Changdu let out a coarse laugh of admiration.

“Wow, damn. You’re wearing one hell of a watch, sir.”

“…Damn?”

Ajin tilted his head at the sudden profanity. While he tolerated it from Juhyuk, hearing it from a stranger was something he didn’t appreciate. Besides, Ajin was a boss, a son from a noble family. Everyone treated him kindly and with respect. This overly friendly staff member was getting more irritating by the minute.

Unbothered, Changdu wiggled Ajin’s wrist, admiring the watch.

“How much is this? Even if I worked my ass off all year, I couldn’t buy something like this. But you, sir, could probably buy several in a day. Damn, I’m so jealous. What kind of karma gets you a life like this?”

“…”

“Wasting thousands every night drinking, doing drugs, then showing up to work the next day as ‘Sir’ or ‘Director.’ Damn, what a life…”

Still gripping Ajin’s wrist tightly, almost cutting off circulation, Changdu kicked a nearby tissue box with force. Ajin just stared blankly, his thoughts idly drifting to strange notions—Past life? But in my past life, I was lame…

Then, Changdu made a nonsensical demand.

“Sir, give me this.”

“…I can’t.”

“Why not? You’ve got plenty at home. Give me one. Or do you want me to hit you? I could smash that pretty face of yours.”

“…”

Changdu waved his thick fist threateningly. Ajin, scrunching his nose, shook his head side to side. But the movement made his head feel wobbly, so he focused his gaze instead.

“I really can’t. My hyung gave it to me.”

“Then ask him to buy you another.”

“No, it’s limited edition.”

“Then take a beating and hand it over. If I take everything you’re wearing and carrying, I could live for months without working. Damn, it’s like winning the lottery. Where’s your wallet? Your car? Did you drive here? Where’s your car key?”

Letting go of Ajin’s wrist, Changdu rummaged through Ajin’s body—feeling his pants pockets, back pockets, and even his wrists and ankles. His actions were nothing short of a petty thief’s.

Ajin stared intently at the bustling Changdu. He looked familiar—too familiar. Where had he seen him before?

Then, in a flash, an image of a broad, crude face surfaced in Ajin’s mind—a face dragged up from the depths of a distant memory.

“…Oh.”

Chubby, sagging cheeks. Flat cheekbones. Eyebrows shaped in an intimidating arch. Small eyes buried in folds of fat. Purplish lips. A protruding jaw filled with greed. And a missing arm, cut off during a botched theft.

It was him—the pig who used to work in Seokju’s house alongside Ajin. The man who had once, out of spite, come for Ajin in the dead of night, wielding a sharp sickle.

Ajin’s body began to tremble violently. The sudden surge of memories obliterated what little reason he had left.

He remembered the fear he felt as he fled from this man. The terror of breaking through a shadowy forest. The cold, dry winter night spent alone in the woods. It all came rushing back vividly.

Why are you here? How are you here? Why us, again? How could this be?

Ajin’s lips trembled uncontrollably.