Chapter 55
by Gideon“Are they open for business or not?”
The place looked worn-down yet oddly well-kept, a strange space that felt both lived-in and derelict.
“It used to be a karaoke bar,” Taemo explained briefly, heading for the stairs. Juhyeon followed, guided by the exit sign’s glow. Despite the sweltering heat and the burden of carrying a person, Taemo didn’t even break a sweat.
“Aren’t you tired? I can help. Let me take some of the weight.”
Juhyeon had been fine with it up to the second floor, but as they passed the third and headed for the fourth, he started feeling guilty.
“We’re here. Just open that closed door over there.”
“On it.”
Juhyeon quickly overtook Taemo and ran to the closed room. After wiping the sweat from his chin, he flung the door open and habitually flipped the light switch.
Click.
The light flickered on, but it seemed to be on its last legs. A dim, pale glow washed over the room.
“…”
The interior was hollow. The space where a window should have been was a gaping hole, letting in the stifling heat. All that remained inside were strips of torn wallpaper, scraps of flooring, and a shabby mattress.
“Hmph.”
Taemo followed me in and headed straight for the mattress. He tossed Seo Jinyoung onto it with a dull thud. Though he tried to hide it, Taemo was clearly exhausted; he fanned the front of his shirt, trying to cool off.
“They said tonight was gonna be fucking hot. Perfect weather to kill someone, right?”
“What… what are you going to do now?”
Lee Taemo had once said that Seo Jinyoung would die after a very long time of struggling in agony. He would make him suffer so much that he’d want to kill his past self, the one who delighted in the pain of others. But Juhyeon had never heard how he planned to carry it out.
After all, he had only lent his strength and followed Taemo’s orders. Taemo took a seat on the edge of the mattress where Seo Jinyoung had been thrown. Then, he swept back his sweat-soaked hair. The dim light illuminated Taemo’s figure. He wore a tight-fitting black long-sleeved T-shirt, with gauze and bandages wrapped around various parts of his body. His forehead and the nape of his neck glistened with sweat, but rather than looking dirty, it made him seem like a man burning with life.
“Well then. What should we do?”
Taemo’s dark eyes shifted from Seo Jinyoung to Juhyeon. Only when their gazes met did Juhyeon realize he’d been staring at Taemo far too intensely. Flustered, he rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, letting out a small sound as he felt the sting of a scrape.
“Ah.”
The sound escaped, sounding like a soft moan. Juhyeon immediately clamped his lips shut, his embarrassment so sharp it made him forget the throbbing pain on the back of his hand.
Taemo tilted his head, his eyes narrowing.
“You should try to hold back those kinds of sounds in a motel, don’t you think?”
“…It-It stung. What are you thinking right now?”
“Your gaze was stinging me more, but I didn’t make any sounds.”
Anything more he said would only put him at a disadvantage. Juhyeon kept tugging at the front of his shirt, pretending to be busy as he wiped the sweat from his chin. The cramped room felt tighter than the outdoors, filled with a stifling, sticky heat. It was the kind of temperature that could make a person’s blood boil and their irritation flare even while standing perfectly still.
Yet both Taemo and Juhyeon remained unnervingly calm, neither daring to speak. This was a moment where every single word carried more weight than ever before.
Surprisingly, it was Juhyeon who finally broke the heavy silence.
“We’ve all been miserable for a long time, haven’t we? We’ve been sad for so long. So, just like you said, I think it’s right to keep him suffering for a long, long time… and only let him go when he finally begs to live.”
“…”
“There’s no need to even hear his apology. After all, an apology from a man like that would never be sincere.”
Juhyeon had always found Lee Taemo’s methods exceptionally cruel. Why not just kill them instantly? he’d wondered. It would be painless. Instead, Taemo would reveal his identity, explain why they had to die, and then prolong the conversation, letting their desperation to live fester. Only then would he kill them without mercy.
But now, facing this situation, Juhyeon finally understood. Lee Taemo acted this way because he himself had been driven to the brink of agony by someone. He must have been imagining Seo Jinyoung in place of every single victim, letting them writhe in torment before they died. Only now, with Seo Jinyoung right in front of him, could Juhyeon truly fathom Taemo’s heart.
Taemo leaned back, bracing himself on the mattress with one hand. His gaze, angled sharply upward, was far more intense than usual. Just as the heat of his stare—hotter than the tropical night—threatened to suffocate him, Taemo finally parted his lips.
“Don’t you owe me an apology?”
He toyed with a knife, rolling it in his hand. The blade was shorter than his palm, yet its cold steel glinted sharply even in the dim light.
“…If I were going to apologize, I would have done it already.”
“You think you know me just because we’ve met a few times?”
Taemo straightened his leaning frame, grabbed the collar of Seo Jinyoung’s sprawled body, and yanked him up violently. He showed no concern for Jinyoung’s dead weight, forcing him to his feet and slamming him against the wall.
Tap, tap. Taemo slapped Seo Jinyoung’s cheek. Despite the force of the blows, Seo Jinyoung didn’t even flinch.
“Sleeping like a baby, aren’t you?”
The cynical murmur seemed to chill the air, sending a shiver down Juhyeon’s spine despite the stifling heat of the room. Taemo leaned in close to Seo Jinyoung’s unconscious, composed face. He closed the distance until their noses almost touched, staring fixedly without even blinking.
Flicker. The old, dust-caked lightbulb flashed dimly. The intermittent light repeatedly revealed and then concealed Taemo’s strange figure. In the brief moment his face emerged from the shadows, Juhyeon realized Taemo was smiling silently.
“…”
A murderous smile was followed by the sound of laughter, Taemo’s shoulders shaking. The air seemed to turn so cold that Juhyeon’s fine hairs stood on end. Just as Juhyeon’s Adam’s apple bobbed, frozen in terror, Taemo grabbed Seo Jinyoung’s cheek in a crushing grip.
He then shoved his fingers into Jinyoung’s slightly parted lips, hooked his fingers around the bright red tongue, and yanked it out.
In that instant, a knife flashed across the tip of the tongue. Blood erupted, spraying outward. Thick droplets splattered across Taemo’s cheek and jaw. A single drop ran down his face, clinging to his chin.
“Ah…!”
Startled by the sudden violence, Juhyeon stumbled back.
In Taemo’s hand was a bloody chunk of flesh. He had cut out the tip of the tongue.
“Ugh… ghk!”
Seo Jinyoung writhed in agony, perhaps finally regaining consciousness. Blood poured from his mouth, as if he were vomiting it up. Taemo shoved his fingers deep into Seo Jinyoung’s mouth to keep the tongue from curling. The crimson blood that spilled from the parted lips soaked his chin and the front of his clothes. The motel room, which had only smelled of dampness, was now filled with the metallic scent of blood.
Taemo clenched the severed piece of tongue tightly. Blood seeped from between his fingers, where his knuckles stood out starkly.
“If you’re not going to apologize, what use do you have for a tongue? Don’t you agree?”
Seo Jinyoung glared at Lee Taemo, his eyes bloodshot and wild. He clawed at Taemo’s wrist, which was still clamped over his cheek, and let out a strangled shriek.
“Ugh! Ugh!”
His eyes rolled erratically in their sockets, as if his consciousness were slipping away. Juhyeon stood frozen, his entire body tense.
Taemo covered Jinyoung’s mouth with the palm of his hand, the mangled piece of tongue still resting on it. If Jinyoung gasped for air, he might swallow it.
“I asked you before, didn’t I? If you were thinking of us.”
Taemo gripped Jinyoung’s jaw with his blood-soaked hand, ignoring the crimson liquid that drenched his wrist. He brought his face inches from Jinyoung’s, staring intensely into his eyes.
“We thought of you so much. Not a single day went by without you in our minds.”
“…Ugh, uh!”
Seo Jinyoung trembled violently. His bloodshot eyes welled with tears. It wasn’t out of betrayal or shock. If Lee Taemo had any shred of those emotions left, he never would have brought the thugs in the first place.
“Ever since my father was run over and killed by your car… Ever since you brought a lawyer and pinned the drunk driving charge on him.”
“…”
Seo Jinyoung’s eyes, which had been brimming only with fury, flickered. He was undoubtedly recalling his past sins.
“Ever since then. You were our entire life.”
Seo Jinyoung’s trembling body began to heave with ragged gasps. He started thrashing, trying to push Taemo away. In response, Taemo struck Seo Jinyoung’s cheek with a vicious blow. Slap. Slap. The force was so brutal it made his head snap.
“Do you even remember?”
“Mmmph, mmgh!”
He tried to speak, but the pain at the tip of his tongue seemed to keep him from forming any words. He could only make a scratching sound in his throat, tears streaming down his face.
“Who was in that taxi? How old was the kid on the scooter?”
“Hhh, ugh…”
The veins in Seo Jinyoung’s neck bulged. He gripped Taemo’s wrist so hard his nails dug deep into the skin. But Taemo didn’t flinch. It was as if this pain was nothing compared to what he had already endured.
“You don’t know, do you? That’s why we don’t need your tongue.”
Taemo reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small ziplock bag. It was the same powder he had sprinkled over Seo Jinyoung’s car—the one that had crashed into the street tree earlier. Only now did Juhyeon realize what that fine white powder was.
Drugs.
The very drugs Seo Jinyoung had been dabbling in.
Taemo poured the powder into Seo Jinyoung’s blood-soaked mouth.
“Mmph! Mmmph!”
Taemo gripped Seo Jinyoung’s cheek firmly as he struggled to break free. After dumping a generous amount of the powder into his mouth, Taemo shoved him away like trash.
Seo Jinyoung continued to writhe in agony, his hands clawing desperately at Taemo’s thighs and chest. Yet Taemo remained utterly still.
Using the hand that was less stained with blood, he slowly wiped his chin. Then, he glanced sideways at Juhyeon, who stood frozen. Though Taemo’s face was covered in blood, Juhyeon no longer felt any fear.
“Thanks to you fucking up his leg, this bastard can’t even run away.”
As Juhyeon’s lips curved into a smirk, his blood-stained face shone with a chilling intensity. He felt his heart thumping heavily in his chest. A thrill surged through his fingertips, and his breath grew shallow. He couldn’t tell if this was his own euphoria or the ecstasy he was experiencing through Lee Taemo.
“…I hope your leg hurts for a long time.”
Anyone who heard him would have pointed and called him insane. But with Taemo smiling back at him, satisfied with his words, Juhyeon feared no such judgment.
“It’s too hot in here. Shall we go?”
“Yes, let’s go.”
Taemo rose to his feet with ease, ruthlessly shaking off the hands that tried to grab him as he stood.
“Ugh! Mmph, nngh!”
Seo Jinyoung crawled off the mattress. Though it wasn’t high, his movements were slow. His body must have been refusing to obey his will. His legs were already a mess from the wrench. The tip of his tongue was severed. He had lost a staggering amount of blood, and the drugs were surely seeping into his system. His eyelids, which had been trembling with rage and pain, now twitched convulsively.
Juhyeon didn’t avert his gaze from those bloodshot eyes. He finally spoke.
“Choi Dong-woo. The delivery driver on the scooter back then.”
“…”
“He was only seventeen.”
Juhyeon didn’t expect Seo Jinyoung to repent or regret his past actions just because he was told this. He simply wanted at least one person to remember Choi Dong-woo’s name. In whatever way possible.
“Let’s go.”
The moment the two of them stepped out of the room, a furious, desperate scream erupted from behind them. Taemo shut the door and began throwing the bolts as if he couldn’t even hear the shrieks.
There were five locks on the door—a mix of key-operated deadbolts and a keypad.
“This was the vault where Kang-i stored his gold,” Taemo explained. “He’s the only one who knows the code.”
“Ah.”
So that’s why there are so many locks, Juhyeon thought. It was a place for hoarding gold.
“Unless Kang-i has a change of heart, forgives him, and opens the door, he’s not getting out.”
“…”
“They say this summer is going to be a killer. I wonder if he can survive in there.”
Juhyeon meticulously checked each lock. Inside, the man continued to shout something unintelligible.
“Whether he dies from the heat or tries to jump out the window to escape… either way, he won’t be getting out of there in one piece.”
“…That’s going to be excruciating. Not as bad as what we went through, but still.”
Seo Jinyoung would have to endure this place alone. The suffocating midsummer heat and the terror that would cling to him as thickly as the humidity.
The two of them left Seo Jinyoung behind and descended the emergency stairs. His screams grew fainter. By the time they reached the first floor, they found Kang-i. He was perched on an overturned box in front of the elevator, staring at his phone.
“The church is all cleaned up. The cleaners were thrilled—said it’s been a while since they’ve gotten to clear out something that’s still alive.”
“I’m worried we’re spoiling them by letting them have all the fun.”
Taemo had rarely called upon the cleaners. He had told them to contact him if they ever needed help, even if it wasn’t for a cleaning job. This was the fulfillment of that promise.
If they could make a body disappear without a trace, Kang-i thought, cleaning up the aftermath of a fight with a living person must have been easy for them. He felt a strange sense of relief.
“He’s in your old room,” Taemo said. “Want to go see him?”
Kang-i didn’t answer for a long time. Taemo thought he was hesitating, but then Kang-i suddenly rubbed his eyes harshly with the back of his hand.
“No. My mom…”
Kang-i’s voice choked off. His eyes were bloodshot, and he struggled to speak. His breath trembled as he fought back the rising sobs. After a deep breath, he finally managed to part his lips.
“Mom came to me in a dream,” Kang-i choked out. “She told me to forgive everyone. But if I see that bastard… she’ll know, won’t she? That I helped with the revenge.”
“…”
“I can’t see him. I only helped a little, right?”
His voice, thick with tears, couldn’t even manage a question mark at the end. Taemo nodded, and Juhyeon bit his lower lip, fighting back his own tears. Kang-i forced a smile, though tears streamed down his face.
“I can’t see him. I won’t.”
Taemo and Juhyeon knew all too well what Kang-i’s tears meant. They didn’t tell him to stop crying or urge him to leave. After his forced smile faded, Kang-i buried his face in his hands and began to sob aloud.
He had never been good at comforting people. Yet now, his body moved on its own, and the words just poured out.
“When you see Kang-i’s mother later, I’ll tell her. That Kang-i… didn’t do anything wrong.”
“…Yeah. Tell her how well he did, too.”
“Oh, of course.”
They exchanged a foolish, tear-streaked conversation. In the end, they even giggled as they looked at each other’s swollen eyes. It was a sight that could have been mocked, but Lee Taemo simply watched them.
They said it was a tropical night, and it truly was. The night was stifling, making it hard to even breathe. But the three of them laughed despite the heat that wrapped around their bodies. Because it was a day when they were allowed to.
Taemo insisted they stay together on a day like this and dragged Kang-i back to his place. He nudged Juhyeon and Kang-i into the bathroom one after the other, only going in to wash up himself last. After completely washing off the summer heat, they settled into the living room, where the air conditioner hummed coolly.
Is he that familiar with this place? Juhyeon wondered. Without being told, Kang-i had already brought out beer and potato chips. It was strange—Juhyeon, who had been living here for months, still hadn’t found where the chips were kept.
“Where did you find those? I’ve looked for them so many times and always failed.”
“The balcony with the washing machine.”
“Have you been here often?”
Kang-i gazed steadily at the room Juhyeon was using, then shifted his eyes back to the potato chips.
“That’s the room I used to use. Ever since I moved in.”
When I first arrived, the place felt lived-in. I’d just assumed someone had stayed here for a while before leaving.
“Really? I never saw anyone here after I moved in, so I had no idea. I thought it was the room of the person who ran off with the gold.”
“Lee Taemo doesn’t let cleaners into his house.”
“Oh…?”
But I was a cleaner at first. Why was I the exception? Because I had the same goal as them? And yet, I’ve been staying here since the first day I signed the contract.
As if reading the confusion on Juhyeon’s face, Kang-i added, “You’re different from the others.”
“…”
Strangely, his casual remark sent a ripple through Juhyeon’s heart. It felt as if he’d finally found the real family he’d never had, and a flicker of hope ignited—the hope that they might become something special to each other forever.
“What are you two whispering about so close?”
Taemo suddenly popped out of his room and strode over to the sofa. He reached down, his fingertips slowly brushing through Juhyeon’s hair as Juhyeon sat on the floor.
“It was nothing. I was just asking where he got the potato chips from.”
“Did you tell him?”
Taemo took a seat on the sofa, right where Juhyeon was leaning against it. Suddenly, Juhyeon found himself trapped between Taemo’s legs. He wondered why Taemo had to sit so uncomfortably close, but the thought vanished as a hand began to gently tickle the nape of his neck.
“Yeah. You’re so stingy, you wouldn’t even tell me? How much could Woo Juhyeon possibly eat… Actually, maybe he does eat a lot.”
“The way you stare at the snacks on the table with those sparkling eyes… you’re like a dog.”
Juhyeon let out a dry laugh at the deliberately grumpy remark. Always treating me like a dog, he thought. And it’s funny how he always uses ‘dog’ instead of ‘puppy’.
“Is that an insult or what?”
“I think it means you’re cute. It’s giving me the creeps.”
“See? Kang always understands what I mean.”
Juhyeon quietly suppressed a smile as he listened to the two of them giggle. Beside him, the sound of a beer can opening and the rustle of potato chips followed. The movie, still playing at a low volume, lit up the screen, and the cool breeze from the air conditioner brushed against his skin.
“…”
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