Small and Fragile Things - Chapter 38

Muk-hyun had apparently been to the bookstore, now properly armed with study materials and teaching like a real tutor. His gaze briefly landed on her lips, slightly puckered in concentration.

Only then did he realize—he hadn’t thought about smoking at all. Maybe it was because he’d been busy kissing and biting those same lips all night.

“You know, that woman had a lot of scars on her body. I’ve been thinking… imagining what might’ve happened. Chief Gu, what do you think would happen if I ran into Kim Deok-gyu completely in the dark, not knowing a damn thing?”

—“If there was anything you needed to know, the chairman would’ve told you. So shut up and do your job.”

Gu’s response, as always, was cold and to the point. A hunting dog only needed to bring back what its master pointed to. It had no business questioning the work.

“Aren’t you even a little worried?”

—“I’ve always trusted the chairman and followed his orders. That’s all.”

But what they always overlooked was this, just like the hunting dog doesn’t know its master’s plans, the master can’t read the dog’s mind either. Just because a dog retrieves the prey doesn’t mean it’s loyal.

“I’m curious about one thing, Gu. How ready are you, really?”

The one who can bring the most danger to the master… is the hunting dog that stands closest.

—“…What do you mean?”

“What if I handed that woman over to Kim Deok-gyu right now? What would you do?”

—“…What?”

Would the master even realize he had to put his life on the line the moment his hunting dog bared its teeth?

“You think I won’t?”

—“Choi Muk-hyun. Director.”

“You know Detective Oh Ji-seok?”

—“No. I don’t.”

“I know you’re not planning to let me walk away. So maybe I should just hand her over and use what I know about that ledger to make a deal. That might actually work out better for me in the long run. What do you think?”

He didn’t regret saying it. Someone had to hear this out loud, at least once.

“While we’re at it, let me make this clear. Once this job is done, I’m disappearing. Even if the chairman wants me to stay, you’ll have to talk him down. And I promise, if you don’t, you’re going to regret it.”

—“As I said… I only follow the chairman’s orders.”

Muk-hyun snorted at the predictable answer.

“Sure. Of course you do.”

The day Muk-hyun was given the surname Choi, it was Chief Gu who told him. Always standing like a shadow next to Chairman Choi, that emotionless man was the perfect example of what it meant to live as someone else’s hands and feet. Muk-hyun, still a kid back then, understood instantly, That’s going to be me.

At one point, he admired Gu more than the chairman himself. Thrown into a world where everything changed overnight, the kid needed an adult to rely on—and Gu had seemed like the obvious choice.

But that had been a huge mistake. Gu wasn’t his person. He was Chairman Choi’s man.

“I serve the chairman. I’m not here to babysit a half-bl00d mutt like you.”

All day, Muk-hyun tiptoed around doing dirty work. But at night, when he finally laid down, frustration would eat him alive. Still, he endured it—for his grandmother.

His grandma didn’t even recognize her own grandson anymore. Dementia had robbed her of that. She couldn’t even grasp the fact that her daughter was gone. She was moved into a care facility, which Chairman Choi described as a favor, but Muk-hyun knew better. It was a leash. As long as she was alive, he was tied down.

So he worked until his hands blistered, learned everything he could to make himself “useful,” and swallowed his rage and tears every chance he got.

But sometimes, he failed. Every time the resentment boiled over—resentment toward the man who let his mother die, tore him from his grandmother, and treated him like an animal—Gu would report it to the chairman. Muk-hyun would get beaten to within an inch of his life.

It happened over and over, until he learned exactly where he stood.

“I’ll keep the item safe for now.”

—“Got anything else for the chairman?”

“No. I’m sure you’ll handle it just fine. I won’t worry about it.”

—“Then take care.”

As he grew up, Muk-hyun learned how to hide his resentment. Not just resentment—every emotion. He crushed them all. Eventually, he got so numb he couldn’t feel anything. That’s when he learned how to fake the emotions he needed, when he needed them.

The more indifferent he became to everything, the stronger his walls grew.
His soft inner self had been buried so deep, he could barely sense it anymore.

***

“Hyung!”

Irang sat up, knees tucked under her, when Muk-hyun walked back in.

Whatever had gotten her excited, her face was glowing with joy and color. For a second, Muk-hyun clenched his jaw. A strange feeling surged up—one he couldn’t quite name—but it vanished just as fast. Still, a shiver ran down his spine.

“Why the hell am I your hyung?”

“Look!”

“……”

“…Please?”

She held up a workbook with grids for writing Hangul consonants and vowels. The letters were crooked, messy, like she hadn’t used any strength writing them at all. He’d probably do better with his left hand. But he had no idea what the hell he was supposed to say.

“I wrote it all by myself.”

“Okay.”

Maybe that was too indifferent. Gi-seon, who had been craning her neck behind Irang, started shaking her head wildly like Say something!

Muk-hyun flopped onto the couch and rubbed his lips. As the awkward silence stretched on, Irang’s confidence started to shrink. The book she had held so proudly began to droop, and her lips stuck out in a pout.

“I memorized all of it… in one go… Don’t you think I wrote it nicely?”

How’d you end up not learning to read? Even little kids learn Hangul in a few days once they’re ready. Why haven’t you?

How young were you when Kim Deok-gyu took you and locked you away? What kind of things did you get dragged into? What about all those scars?

Why do you show them off like that—like it’s nothing—and mess with people’s heads?

If he said all that out loud, she’d start crying. Those big eyes would well up and spill over, even though she probably cried out every last drop of water yesterday. But Irang was… full of water.

Then again, how was she even smiling like that today, when just yesterday she was barely clinging to life? She flinched at the lightest touch—yet here she was, eyes sparkling.

“Yeah.” How hard was it to say just one word?

“……It’s cute.”

Of all times, the sun just had to be shining in.

Her already pale face seemed to glow, like she was lit from the inside out.

“Cutest thing I’ve seen.”

That silly grin plastered on her face got burned into his brain. It had to be the damn sunlight’s fault. What else could it be?

***

The afternoon sun was just as bright in another room, falling across the back of a man lying face-down on a bed. He was so pale, you’d believe he never went outside. Beside him, a woman stirred awake.

“…Ah, sh1t.” She slowly came to her senses, quietly gathered her clothes, and crept out of the room.

Her memory ended at the wine bar—round three of a long night out. She didn’t even remember the guy’s name. They barely knew each other. No point in pretending this was more than a one-night stand. Best to run.

“How old are you?”

She jumped at the sudden voice behind her.

“Jesus—!”

Frowning, she turned—and was startled again. Some random guy was standing there, staring.

“You know it’s rude to stare at people like that.”