Double Junk - 94

Seokju focused on extracting the grenade from his hand. The thug’s knife cut across his forearm, but he didn’t even blink.

After twisting the thug’s wrist, breaking his hold, Seokju could retrieve the grenade. Meanwhile, a pin fell to the ground, causing everyone to step back, holding their breath.

Organization members approached Seokju with pale faces. “Sir, the grenade, please. Sir, watch out.” Everyone was in a frenzy.

However, Seokho, still holding the thug’s hair, effortlessly knocked him sideways and casually kicked his slender face.

“Ugh…”

The thug staggered back, spewing blood from his nose. The knife he held clashed with the ground, creating a jarring sound. Organization members quickly rushed towards the thug, delivering punches.

Seokju, gripping the grenade, scanned the area and spotted a scattered pin. He quickly picked it up and secured it back into the grenade. Only then did people around him relax, letting out a sigh.

Seokju examined the grenade carefully, and Kiheon approached quietly, extending his hand.

“Please, sir.”

Seokju handed it over without a word. Kiheon held the grenade tightly with both hands, bowing respectfully.

“I apologize, sir. I couldn’t properly confirm who was coming and going. I’m sorry for making you come down here while you were working. And, sir, this rookie holding a grenade behaved like a novice, my sincere apologies.”

“It’s okay. Send Geumtae to the hospital, report to the police about this, and bring the owner of the song bar who came with this guy.”

Seokju pointed to the injured organization member with the knife and the thug turned into a mess. Kiheon responded with a short “Yes.”

“But, sir, your arm…”

“Forget it. It’s nothing. Go home and get it treated. Take care of Geumtae from now on.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kiheon stepped back. Seokju, with a lost expression, watched the thug being dragged away with both arms. He muttered to himself while lighting a cigarette.

“Right, handle the thugs well…”

It was a message to Jung-ho Faction.

Seokju dealt with selling drugs, and he occasionally encountered thugs, but as the saying goes, only occasionally.

He only produced drugs and sent them overseas; the distribution and sales were taken care of by organizations in those countries. So, facing thugs face to face was not something that happened often. The recent clashes were once at the Incheon factory and once with the deceased Doeun, both sent by Jung-ho Faction.

This time would be the same. Otherwise, how would the thug get grenades and smoothly infiltrate into the Jongno area, a major business district?

Jung-ho Faction handled everything from production to sales, and with their own people running the business, dealing with thugs had become a piece of cake. Giving the last dose of drugs to customers who had already emptied their pockets, using them as mercenaries who wouldn’t flinch even if they got stabbed a few times – it was a lucrative business.

Seokju bit the filter of his cigarette. It tasted bitter.

“Anyway, damn bastard. Dirty old man…”

Ajin woke up when darkness seeped through the window. His mind felt fuzzy and numb, as if one side of his brain had malfunctioned.

Ajin slapped his own head. However, the scattered thoughts from wherever he had gone for a picnic didn’t come back easily. So, he just leaned against the sofa. He occasionally slipped his foot under the blanket, enjoying the warmth of the ondol floor.

How long did he stay in a daze like that? Ding, ding, ding, the doorbell rang. Beyond the tightly closed window, he could hear people bustling around the yard, busy with their movements.

Ajin slowly got up. He lit up the room, neatly folded the blanket under the bed, and organized the disheveled liquor bottles in the cabinet. He placed the sofa cushions neatly on both sides.

To Seokju, I was no different from an enemy, and lying peacefully sprawled out wouldn’t make a good impression. I wanted to look good to Seokju. That way, there would be an opportunity. An opportunity to ask about Miss Flower’s well-being, an opportunity to assert my innocence.

Hating and cursing Seokju wouldn’t be of any help in the current situation. At most, I would end up with a slapped cheek or a punch in the face, remaining silent with my mouth shut. Ajin finally realized that.

Ajin exerted force on his lips, knelt under the sofa, and sat there. The sound of footsteps on the floor, thump, thump, thump, reached his ears. Faint footsteps could also be heard above it.

Ajin swallowed dry saliva. Soon, the sound of the door unlocking followed, and the door opened. Seokju entered.

“…”

Seokju glanced at Ajin and walked to the study without saying a word. Then, without even taking off his clothes, he poured alcohol into a glass. Seokju gulped down the alcohol as if drinking cold water.

Ajin quietly observed him. Seokju seemed unusually in a bad mood today. Because of that, Ajin felt the need to control his breath, fearing that his breathing might disturb Seokju.

After putting down the empty glass, Seokju casually draped a robe over the chair. Watching that absent-mindedly, Ajin raised his eyebrows. He noticed that one of Seokju’s arms was stained with blood.

The shirt sleeve was entirely red, as if the blood had seeped through. Ajin involuntarily shifted on his seat. There was nothing he could do.

Seokju tore off the shirt clinging to his skin as if peeling it off. The fallen shirt, soaked in blood, felt heavy. The wide-open wound was clearly visible. Just looking at the torn flesh made Ajin furrow his brows. Imagining the pain, Ajin bit his lower lip while Seokju remained expressionless.

Seokju pulled out a first aid kit from the drawer under the desk and sat down. He was in a position where Ajin could see his back. Pouring alcohol generously on the wound, he briefly squeezed and released his temples in response to the stinging sensation. The muscles in his back twisted violently. Blood mixed with alcohol dripped down through his arm and fingers.

Seokju let out an annoyed sigh. Putting the alcohol bottle down carelessly, he took out a cigarette and lit it. Soon, white smoke slowly rose.

“…”

Ajin was secretly observing Seokju. It seemed like he was trying to treat his own arm. It wasn’t easy when the wound wasn’t just a scratch. Even if he applied ointment, stitching or bandaging would be nearly impossible.

Ajin unconsciously licked his lips.

He must be rich and powerful. Why not call a doctor? Or maybe summon an underling from the organization who’s familiar with this. Just like when he went to Incheon last time with a torn back, Seokju always tried to treat himself personally.

Maybe it was because he was the boss. He didn’t want to show weakness to his subordinates. Ajin made a small, disdainful sound. Money and power must be nice.

Ajin scratched his cheek with his index finger. “Ah…” he sighed softly and quickly withdrew his hand. The slap he received from Seokju on that cheek hadn’t healed yet, and the skin felt like it was tearing apart again.

Seokju turned abruptly when he heard that small sound.

Tap, tap. Someone knocked on the door. Startled, Ajin made a small noise, curling up, and Seokju stared sharply at the door. It didn’t take long for the person behind the door to reveal their identity.

“Sir, it’s Deokjae.”

“Come in.”

With Seokju’s permission, the door opened, and Deokjae entered. He closed the door carefully and stood upright. Both hands were folded under his waist, shoulders overly stretched. His broad and messy clown makeup carried a strange tension.

It seemed like Deokjae wasn’t used to entering Seokju’s room, especially for this kind of report.

“I have information about that thug from earlier.”

“Yes.”

“The police took him, but… well, on the way to the police station, he managed to snatch a police gun inside the car and shot the detective in the head.”

“…What?”

“The police can’t do anything; the culprit apparently committed suicide. That’s the law. Still, it’s fortunate there were no casualties. We’ll handle the body ourselves. Chicago just ended like that.”

“…”

“But, sir, you must know. Which drug dealer commits suicide? Those guys live for the drugs. Is that their only reason for existence?”

“…”

“Moreover, you, sir, fully smashed that guy’s arm, and he managed to snatch a police gun, claiming he couldn’t even open the car door with his hands. No matter how you think about it, it’s absurd.”

Seokju frowned. Deokjae’s words were correct. It was strange. There were two possible conclusions. Either the police killed the drug dealer and lied, or they handed him over to the Jung-ho Faction, claiming he died or committed suicide.

“Ha…”

Seokju let out a bitter laugh. If even the police were on Kiheon’s side, it would be troublesome. No matter how much money and power he had, he couldn’t easily overcome law enforcement and the country.

He could bribe the police, but it would take time. Probably, their relationship was quite strong since Kiheon was an established force, and Seokju, despite having money, was a relatively new power. Even if Seokju handed over piles of money, it wouldn’t be easy to infiltrate.

Seokju chuckled while scratching his eyebrow. It would be difficult if the police were on Kiheon’s side. Even if he carried loads of money, penetrating their defense would be challenging.

Seokju sighed as Deokjae approached.

“And we found the owner of the singing bar.”

“What?”

“We thought we could easily make him talk, fed him well, took care of his son, but it didn’t work. He didn’t crack even after a couple of beatings; he spoke smoothly. He claimed it was ordered by the Jung-ho Faction.”

“…”

“He said he felt threatened, that the Jung-ho Faction would set his bar on fire if he didn’t comply. If he didn’t want that to happen, he had no choice but to cooperate. So, we gave him a mild punishment, just chopped off two of his toes.”

“I see.”

Seokju exhaled a thin stream of cigarette smoke. The bar owner’s confession indicated that the Jung-ho Faction wasn’t properly conducting undercover operations. Seokju hoped they realized today’s chaos was orchestrated by themselves.

Seokju let out a bitter laugh. Warning about interfering with the Seoul drug market was a bit funny as a threat.