Double Junk - 2

Chapter 2

02

The man rummaged through his jacket pocket, causing people to tense up, fearing a gun might appear. Fortunately, what he pulled out was a cigarette.

As he tapped the bottom of the cigarette against his palm, a white Zippo lighter popped out. He lit the cigarette, and the bright red ember glowed. The man’s face was bathed in the fiery glow. At that moment, Ajin could recall the name he had heard before.

**<Taeho Faction>**

A name that meant “gathering of waves,” referring to an organization where waves come together.

Originating in Busan over a decade ago, they recently expanded to Seoul. They were known for rapidly growing their influence using unknown sources of vast wealth and powerful members.

Although they were strangely disinterested in the entertainment districts, such as singing bars, nightclubs, and bars, which were often targeted by gangsters. Rumors circulated that they were involved in human trafficking, selling parentless children or familyless individuals abroad, lending money forcefully and making people repay with exorbitant interest, and dealing in drugs other than medicinal ones, like marijuana or opiates.

With their takeover of Busan Port, they frequently clashed with Chinese and Japanese rivals, and their powerful presence made the waters of Busan teeming with the floating corpses of Chinese and Japanese men.

Thinking of those words, Ajin lowered his head even further. He didn’t want to attract any attention. There was nothing good that could come from catching the eye of such individuals.

The man took a deep drag of his cigarette before exhaling a plume of white smoke. He gestured to the man with the scar, and the scarred man stepped forward, two steps at a time. He had a broad shoulder span and a sinister scar running from below his ear to the center of his chin.

The scarred man, with his red ember of a cigarette, stepped forward. He had a broad shoulder span and a sinister scar running from below his ear to the center of his chin.

“Starting today, Gold Hotel here is used as our Taeho Trading’s office and logistics warehouse.”

His voice ended on an upward note. The accent of saying “used as” was distinctive. His announcement was one-sided and impolite. The people on the floor exchanged glances and grumbled. It was natural since the signboard of their workplace for several years had changed so abruptly.

In Seoul, a city bustling with change, where people said they “got lost on the street they walked every day,” and where people said, “Mr. Kim, who pulled a cart yesterday, became Mr. Kim, the owner of an auto shop today,” such things still didn’t happen often.

“What about our boss, Mr. Kim?”

A worker pushed through the crowd and asked, anger mixed with rebellion shining in his eyes. Probably, the unexpected appearance of these outsiders didn’t sit well with him.

And that’s because this place was protected by the <Jung-ho Faction>, the largest organization in Seoul that had a stronghold in various regions, including Jongno. This gambling den had been paying a certain amount of money to them, using their power to survive safely for a long time.

So, it wasn’t easy for them to accept the news delivered by these strangers.

The scarred man scratched his chin with his thumb, then approached the worker. The worker stiffened, meeting his gaze head-on. It was a foolish thing to do. The man stared at him for a moment before breaking into a sinister grin, revealing his unexpectedly white and neat teeth.

Not understanding the meaning behind his smile, the worker furrowed his brows.

Thud!

In an instant, a sparkling glint flashed. There was a sharp, hissing sound as blood spurted out like a fountain.

“G-gah, cough…”

The worker grabbed his neck with both hands, but the blood gushed through his fingers relentlessly. The man withdrew the bloodstained knife into the air. A pool of dark red liquid formed on the floor.

People swallowed their gasps but couldn’t make any sound. No, they couldn’t make a sound. If they screamed, they didn’t know whose throat the knife would pierce next.

The fallen employee writhed on the floor, shuddering. He reached out with blood-covered hands towards the man’s shoes but missed and dropped to the ground. A crimson puddle slowly spread from under his slackened neck.

The faces of the onlookers turned pale, and a few women silently shed tears.

Ajin numbly stared at the back of the fallen employee, sprawled out like a fish on a chopping block. His stomach churned, and a cold shiver ran through him. His knees trembled, threatening to give way.

Blood. Death. Blood. Death. Blood. Death.

The sticky blood seemed to slither into Ajin’s eyes like a snake. Breathing even once felt like it might make him vomit.

The man placed his foot on the back of the employee who lay sprawled. He chuckled as he looked at the terrified people.

“That’s how your boss ended up. Anybody else have questions?”

People remained silent. Silence was their only option. The question was imposed in a way that left no room for response.

Everyone tightened their throats. Even though all the doors were tightly shut, a cold draft seemed to sneak in from somewhere, tickling their necks.

Then, the man who had been leisurely smoking his cigarette called out a name, “Myungjin.”

It was an unexpectedly gentle voice. Ajin had anticipated a gruff and assertive tone, but it was smooth and melodious.

The man quickly turned around. His name seemed to be Myungjin.

“Yes, sir.”

“It’s scary.”

The man blew out cigarette smoke, saying something absurd. It was strange to be scared yet have such an expression of complete indifference. Indeed, a few of the men chuckled.

“Sorry, sir. Hey, what are you all waiting for? Carry him. Seokju hyung is uncomfortable.”

Seokju. The name of the boss. The gazes of the gambling den’s occupants briefly turned toward Seokju and then returned to the floor.

The Taeho Faction members dragged the dead employee’s body behind the sofa.

Meanwhile, Seokju finished his cigarette. He snapped the short butt between his index and thumb, then casually tossed it to the ground. Myungjin approached him and asked, “What should we do with them?”

Seokju looked at the casino employees, who had organized themselves by job category. They huddled together, trembling, their faces pale as they tried to avoid the light. They resembled cockroaches scurrying away from the light.

Seokju’s gaze first fell on the group of well-built men.

The gangsters who guarded the gambling den. Some of them had connections with the Jung-ho Faction. Seokju stared at them in silence before speaking in a low voice.

“Kill the gangsters.”

The gangsters received a death sentence without hesitation, and their eyes widened. But the Taeho Faction was quicker. Their knives swiftly found the gangsters’ throats and bellies. It was a death without screams. They simply inhaled, exhaled, and collapsed.

The remaining people let out short gasps, and that was it.

The Taeho Faction punctuated the deaths by thrusting their knives into the throats and bellies of the fallen. Seokju didn’t bother to watch and shifted his gaze to the line where women in short skirts and high heels, along with Ajin, stood.

Seokju’s eyes narrowed.

He had spotted Ajin.

Apparently, a man had boldly stepped forward among the women, making it impossible not to notice him. His face was half-covered with messy hair, making his appearance far from presentable for receiving “customers.” He also stood somewhat unsteadily, suggesting his legs might not be in perfect condition.

Could someone like that be sold?

For a brief moment, Seokju entertained such a thought.

“Inspect the women and send them away, sell the men.”

It was a more lenient decision than expected. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. The men knew they would eventually be sold, but for now, they were grateful to have their lives spared.

However, Myungjin, lacking tact, intervened.

“Sir, we need people to work at the new place, don’t we? We can’t expect our son to do menial chores, right? We also have to cook. Seoul food is terrible, isn’t it?”

“In that case, select only those who can be useful and take them.”

Seokju casually changed his decision upon the lower-ranked person’s suggestion. Whether he was easily influenced or simply didn’t have any particular thoughts, it was hard to tell. Regardless, it was quite different from his appearance.

After concluding his statement, Seokju took out another cigarette. Immediately, Myungjin placed a chair behind him. Seokju chuckled and said, “Thanks, Myungjin,” while patting Myungjin’s shoulder lightly. Myungjin smiled like a well-behaved child and lit Seokju’s cigarette.

Meanwhile, Taeho Faction members approached the people. They made a rough estimate and began selecting individuals. The first to be chosen were older women. They seemed tough and capable, likely from years of dealing with various hardships, and appeared skilled in both laundry and cooking.

“Hey, can these ladies cook well?”

“Do you know how to make rice cakes, ma’am? Not the bland ones with bean sprouts, but, oh, you know. The white ones with plenty of pork. Pork rice cakes. That’s how we eat them in Busan.”

Surprisingly, the Taeho Faction members used polite language when addressing the women. The kitchen aunties, tired of the bustling city life, awkwardly nodded and smiled.

Next were the middle-aged men. They seemed intelligent, quick-witted, and, despite their thin frames, physically strong enough to handle heavy loads, chop firewood, and perform household chores efficiently.

The young women, or more precisely, the women working in the red-light district, didn’t receive a single glance. It was fortunate for them. Following those men who went along with them, they would have no idea what would happen to them. Among them, Ajin, who had been standing with the women, was also not chosen.

However, Ajin’s complexion began to turn pale.

If he was expelled from here, he had nowhere to go. Ajin may not have been the best worker, but he worked diligently. Even with his uncomfortable leg, he never complained about his work.He wanted to stay here, no matter what.

Outside, on the streets… There was a car waiting. With that car, he could go anywhere. The car that had caused his leg to be like this was still running smoothly. Now, there were more cars on the streets than people. He couldn’t imagine wandering the streets, searching for a job and a place to stay.

He was sure that cursed car would hit him and leave him for dead. His body would be crushed beneath the massive wheels, and his head would burst open. Just like when it ran over his leg, his blood would flow onto the concrete like a stream.

He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to shed blood. He didn’t want to feel pain.

“Ugh…”

Ajin’s body trembled violently. His head swung from side to side so vigorously it seemed about to snap.

Then, a rough hand grabbed Ajin’s arm forcefully.