Small and Fragile Things - Chapter 48

He didn’t leave even a sliver of room for negotiation.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“What, you think I’m holding it for you or something?”

Irang’s shoulders sank with disappointment. In that moment, the faces she longed to see popped back into her mind. Her older brothers always grumbled when she asked for something, but in the end, they’d always give in with a sigh.

Only now did she realize how spoiled she’d been. Surrounded by people who treated her warmly for the first time in her life, maybe she’d gotten soft—because even this small rejection made her chest sink.

She slouched out into the living room, where a man sitting on the couch frowned.

“Hey. Lee Cheol-ho. What did you do?”

“Me? I didn’t do anything.”

“Her eyes are red. You trying to get yourself killed?”

“Ah, Seong-pil hyung! I swear, it wasn’t me. She’s just… you tell him—what did I do to you?”

Should she say she’d just asked for a cigarette and got turned down? Something about the mood told her that if she said that, this Lee Cheol-ho guy would get chewed out badly.

And considering this “Seong-pil” person looked even scarier than the rest, she decided to keep her mouth shut.

“I’m not crying. I rubbed them, that’s all.”

“See?!”

But her lie didn’t fly. Seong-pil strode over, grabbed her chin, and tilted her face this way and that.

“How hard were you rubbing to get your eyelids and even your nose all red? And there are streaks from tears all over your cheeks. What, did this bastard threaten you not to tell?”

“Whoa—come on, that’s not fair!” Cheol-ho protested.

“Feeling bored. Maybe I should take a picture and send it to Jung-pal hyung. Haven’t seen him do a flying kick in a while.”

“Ehh, hyung! That’s not funny—ah, seriously, quit it!”

Seong-pil raised his phone to snap a picture, while Cheol-ho scrambled to snatch it away, making a whole scene.

Only after watching the commotion for a while did Irang realize… they’d been messing around the whole time.

It reminded her of the way Jung-pal and Gi-seon always bickered like they were about to fight.

Send a picture…?

Then something clicked.

“Uh, excuse me!”

Seong-pil turned, phone still held high.

“What.”

“Are you… really going to send that to Jung-pal hyung?”

“Hey! Shut it, will you? I’m not sending anything!” Cheol-ho barked.

“Quiet, Lee Cheol-ho. Why, you want me to?”

Irang stepped closer, a tiny flicker of hope sparking inside her. She swallowed hard.

“Let me… talk to Jung-pal hyung too. If I could just… with that…”

She pointed uncertainly at the phone—

—Ding-dong.

The doorbell rang out of nowhere. It was the first time she’d ever heard it in this house.

“Hyung, it’s someone from building management. Says there’s a problem downstairs and they need to come in for an inspection. What do we do?”

“What kind of crap is that all of a sudden?”

The men argued by the wall phone before deciding to let the “staff” in.

“Maybe we should put her in a room?”

“And if she screams for help?”

“…Right. Good point.”

“You, keep quiet, alright? Don’t act suspicious—just stay natural. And don’t do anything stupid.”

Irang nodded and sat down on the couch beside Seong-pil, while Cheol-ho went to greet the visitors.

“Excuse us.”

Four people stepped in, all in management uniforms—hats pulled low, masks covering their faces.

“Sorry, but we’ve got guests coming soon. Could you make it quick?”

“Of course, won’t take long.”

Maybe it was just because strangers had entered, but Irang suddenly found it hard to breathe. The air felt heavier, like she couldn’t fill her lungs no matter how much she inhaled. Even the smell they brought with them was unpleasant, and their heavy footsteps made her skin prickle.

Why was she so on edge?

One of the “staff” moved closer, saying he’d check the balcony. Seong-pil’s body tensed beside her.

Irang lowered her gaze, stilled her breathing, and stared at her toes, silently begging for the moment to pass.

“Have you heard any water dripping from this side?”

“No, not really.”

“Oh, is that so? Then maybe the leak’s not from here. No need to worry.”

The man, his cap pulled low, exchanged a few more words with Seong-pil. His voice struck Irang as… odd. Like he was forcing it flatter than normal, pressing it down in an unnatural way.

Is it just the mask?

She glanced up without thinking—just as he set down his tool bag and pulled off his gloves.

Her bl00d ran cold.

“…!”

A butterfly tattoo stretched across the back of his hand. One she knew all too well.

***

Meanwhile, elsewhere— Muk-hyun was frowning. It was just the sun cutting across his face by the window, but still.

“Eight coffees are ready! Should I put them in a carrier?”

“Yes, please.”

Muk-hyun took the two carriers, each loaded with steaming cups, and headed toward his destination.

[Safe Seoul, Together with the Jungbu Police]

Walking in like an invited guest, he met the eyes that immediately turned toward him—and kept walking without hesitation.

Muk-hyun drew attention wherever he went, but here, it was even more pronounced. The stares trailed him from the gate all the way to the second division of the detective bureau. By the time he stepped in, the noisy room had fallen silent, like someone had fired a gun.

It was strange—this place was usually as loud as a marketplace, but now you could hear a pin drop. All because one man had shown up of his own free will.

“What… the hell?” a detective muttered, pointing.

Dozens of eyes latched onto him like magnets to steel. Muk-hyun, now apparently reduced to “that guy,” didn’t seem to care. Like he belonged there, he strode straight to his target.

Detective Division 2 — Team Leader Oh Jiseok.

His desk was buried under clutter and dusty folders. A scratched plastic nameplate sat at the edge.

“Well, well.”

Oh Jiseok, who had been watching since Muk-hyun walked in, leaned back in his chair, smirking.

“Guess I must be doing pretty well these days. Even the great Director Choi—who’s harder to see than most CEOs—comes to me himself?”

With a pen tucked behind one ear and his feet propped on the desk, he oozed insolence.

The contrast between Oh’s laid-back swagger and Muk-hyun’s rigid, statue-like posture made it hard to tell who held the upper hand. The other detectives, though, were all on edge—like they’d leap in at a snap of Oh’s fingers.

“You here to turn yourself in?”

The tension was knife-sharp. Muk-hyun, smiling lazily, set the coffee on the desk.

“My guys said they didn’t get a chance to buy you coffee last time.”

It was an absurdly casual reply for the moment.

“Didn’t know what you liked, so I brought one of each.”

Some laughed under their breath at the mismatch between mood and manners. The only one not laughing was Oh Jiseok.

His smirk stayed, but his eyes had gone hard. Muk-hyun held his gaze, unbothered.

“Oh, almost forgot—”

From his pocket, he pulled out a coffee shop stamp card. Eight stamps out of ten spots were filled.

“Two more and you get one free. Don’t lose it,” he said, passing it over.

A detective nearby gave him the is-this-guy-crazy look.

Oh Jiseok decided he’d had enough of Muk-hyun’s fake nonchalance. He dropped his feet from the desk and stood.

“Choi Hyun. What makes you think you can stand there acting all relaxed? What if I slap the cuffs on you right now?”