Chapter 14
by GideonLiving with Taemo wasn’t as bad as I’d expected. For starters, he publicly posed as a “super ant”—a retail investor who’d made a fortune in stocks. I couldn’t tell if he was actually earning money or just pretending, but he’d set up three massive monitors in the room he’d designated as his study.
He’d spend some time each day sitting in front of them, but the rest of his hours were devoted to exercise. He’d run along the Han River, hit the boxing gym in the basement, or train in an abandoned factory far from where we lived. He worked out for hours every single day. And every time he left, he dragged Juhyeon along.
“Get up.”
Maybe this man didn’t need a housekeeper after all, I thought, sprawled on the dust-covered floor. Maybe he just wanted a training partner. I didn’t even have the strength to reach for the knife I’d dropped. I just lay there with my arms spread wide, staring at the ceiling.
“What did Clause 2 of the agreement say? You signed it, yet here you are, refusing to cooperate. That’s a breach of contract.”
“Hah…”
Maybe I should’ve just stuck to being a human shield for gangsters. At least I got paid per job back then. No, wait, they paid the whole amount upfront as a down payment, so that was actually a better deal.
The unusually high ceiling of the abandoned factory had been spinning for a while now. It felt like his mind was spinning right along with it. A large shadow loomed over his dizzying field of vision.
“What’s wrong? Can’t you hold out without those 30,000 won?”
Lee Taemo still remembered the 30,000 won Juhyeon had received after taking a brutal beating. Juhyeon thought of the crumpled bills tucked away in the bag hidden under his bed. Even now, it was an absurdly small amount.
“I’ll give it to you later. Ten times the amount.”
Juhyeon’s eyelashes fluttered at the mention of 300,000 won. Taemo, reading his agitation, tapped Juhyeon’s thigh with the toe of his shoe.
“Ah, this is too hard…”
“Life is always hard.”
Taemo hauled Juhyeon to his feet, who had gone completely limp. Juhyeon’s limbs felt like they were weighted with sandbags, but he forced himself up anyway. Once he managed to stand on his own two feet, Taemo pressed the knife back into his hand. He didn’t even have the strength to refuse.
Taemo positioned Juhyeon in front of a punching bag wrapped in bandages and tape, then pressed himself close against Juhyeon’s back. He gripped Juhyeon’s weak hand, guiding it as he began to swing the knife in various arcs.
“You have to master this before we move on.”
I don’t even want to master this shit, Juhyeon thought. He brought me here as a cleaner… so what’s the point of learning how to use a knife? Even if I learn, I won’t remember any of it in a real fight. I’ll just swing my fists wildly or throw whatever I can get my hands on, and if I’m lucky, I’ll hit something.
That was the kind of fighting Juhyeon had learned. Not something studied systematically or thought through, but a simple matter of brute force—pushing forward recklessly and winning if you were stronger.
“…Are you really going to pay me ten times?”
It was ridiculous of him to be talking about money at a time like this, but he had to get it in writing. Taemo, who had been pressed against his back, let out a dry laugh. The moment his smile vanished like a flipped switch, Juhyeon felt as if a heavy silence was crushing his ears.
Taemo released Juhyeon’s hand, which he had been holding, and stepped slightly to the side. Before Juhyeon knew it, Taemo was holding Juhyeon’s practice sword.
“…”
As Juhyeon watched him blankly, the blade sliced through the air. There wasn’t even time to take a breath. He could only stare, helpless, as the cold steel flew straight toward his face.
I’m going to get cut.
That was the only thought that managed to flash through Juhyeon’s mind. He squeezed his eyes shut. But the pain he expected never came.
When he finally forced his eyes open, he found the hilt of a sword resting against his forehead. A light tap nudged his head.
“Your mind’s wandering, so you’re slow as hell. Huh?”
“…”
“You’d be dead already if this were a real fight. You know that?”
The fierce reprimand followed. The man never considered how he was the one who had worked Juhyeon to the bone; he only blamed others. Juhyeon’s eyes narrowed in frustration.
The back of the sword hilt pressed against his forehead again, as if pushing down his furrowed brow.
“Do you plan on taking your money with you to the grave?”
“…”
“Lower your eyes and take the knife again.”
There was no point in resisting; it wouldn’t work, and he couldn’t defy him anyway. Lee Taemo was still a terrifying figure to Juhyeon. That left only one conclusion: obey without question.
“…Hah, like this?”
Juhyeon weakly gripped the knife Taemo handed him. He stood again before the punching bag, which was covered in countless slash marks.
This was harder than it looked. When he swung the blade quickly at the swaying bag, it didn’t cut cleanly. When he thought he’d driven the blade in deep, he was told he was too slow.
Even though he resented every moment of it, Juhyeon felt miserable in his helplessness, unable to do anything but follow Taemo’s orders.
The training was brutal, far more than what was necessary for someone who wasn’t even planning to become a hitman. Juhyeon wondered if all this was really needed. He’d been run ragged for three straight days, his body pushed to the limit before the bruises from the beatings had even begun to heal.
Yet, despite being dragged around like this, he still couldn’t sleep at night. The nightly ritual—blocking the door before bed, playing a round on his glitchy game console, and fighting sleep until his eyes rolled back in his head before he finally passed out—was becoming increasingly difficult to manage.
He’d always prided himself on having decent stamina, even if he lacked any talent for fighting. Perhaps he’d just been delusional about how poor his condition actually was.
Though Taemo hadn’t given him a definitive answer, he’d kept his promise and given Juhyeon the 300,000 won. He handed over the money the moment he arrived home, without even washing up first. Juhyeon dragged his heavy body to the bed and tucked the bills securely into the drawer underneath.
“Ugh, my body’s gonna break,” I groaned.
Freshly showered, I felt even more drained. If I went to sleep now, I could probably crash for a solid ten hours, but the moment I closed my eyes, sleep eluded me. It felt like exhaustion had seeped into every single pore. Yet, Lee Taemo seemed completely unfazed, already nagging me again.
“What else is there? I’m fucking exhausted, seriously…”
I collapsed onto the sofa, my body tense and stiff. But his reply was firm.
“It’s Friday. You need to get ready.”
He was reminding me it was the day we’d agreed to meet up again at Superman Karaoke. I shot up and checked the clock—it was still two hours before our scheduled time. We didn’t even live that far apart, so why the rush? I flopped back down, rubbing my cheek—still bruised and swollen—against the sofa.
“Then shouldn’t you rest a bit longer? You need to recharge before the meeting, right?”
“You have plenty of time in the early morning anyway. You’re always wide awake doing nothing. Rest then.”
Lee Taemo always kept his door shut, so Juhyeon had assumed he was sleeping soundly. Besides, Juhyeon always stayed tucked under the covers, dead still—how could he have known she wasn’t sleeping? Juhyeon cautiously raised herself, her eyes darting around.
“…How did you know? That I can’t sleep. Don’t tell me… a security camera?”
Juhyeon’s terrified gaze shifted to the firmly closed door. Is there a camera somewhere I don’t know about? Is that how he knows everything I do in the early morning? It seemed entirely within Lee Taemo’s nature to do something like that.
Juhyeon shot up, his body tensing as if he were about to bolt into the room. Taemo reached out, and Juhyeon flinched, cowering instinctively—a reflex from his recent training. But no pain followed.
Just as Juhyeon slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes—
Thwack!
A flick snapped against his forehead. It was a playful gesture, yet the pain that radiated through his skull felt like a lighter had been pressed against his skin.
“Surveillance cameras, my ass.”
“Ugh…”
“Forgot how you acted after helping me clean up that first body? Drinking yourself sick and making it so obvious. You’re such a little coward.”
The first time he’d helped dispose of a body, he’d been hauling in bottles of alcohol like a fucking alcoholic. That was when he first learned this man was a killer. He couldn’t even close his eyes properly, the image of the brutally murdered corpse burned into his mind.
Not that much has changed since then, really.
The lack of security cameras was a relief, but splitting someone’s forehead open was still a bit much, wasn’t it? He repeatedly rubbed his palm over his throbbing forehead, then checked the wound again.
“Ah… I think it’s bleeding. Ah, fuck, this hurts.”
“Causing pain without drawing blood is an advanced skill.”
“…”
“I’m only teaching you for free because it’s you, okay?”
Juhyeon shut his mouth tight at the brutal joke. He was usually fine, but whenever the man’s nature as a killer showed, Juhyeon’s body would instinctively freeze. Still, he tried to reassure himself—the people the man killed were all bad people, so maybe he could endure it.
But it took only a few days for Juhyeon to realize how naive that thought had been.
“He’s taking forever to clean up.”
“I told you, he’s a fucking neat freak.”
The client was barely visible through the trees in front of the truck. He was the securities firm manager they’d already seen in photos. Even though the sun had set, he was still meticulously sweeping and scrubbing around the villa.
This place was a second home the client had acquired a few months ago. It was nestled against a mountain with a large river flowing past the front. Thanks to its prime location, construction was in full swing on various townhouses scattered along the mountainside.
“They must have a lot of money.”
“What’s the point of hoarding it all? You die with empty hands anyway.”
Juhyeon, who had been staring out the car window, slowly turned her head. She looked at Taemo, who shrugged noncommittally as he spoke. He was wearing a one-piece jumpsuit that looked like a coverall. The leather-like material filled the car with a faint, lingering scent.
That’s the same scent I smelled on him the first time. Had he just come back from killing someone then, too?
She glanced at his outfit again, only to lock eyes with him.
“What are you staring at?”
“…I was just looking. You don’t have to be so rude about it.”
She muttered the words loud enough for him to hear, pulling her coat pocket up. She rummaged through the bag Kang-i had packed for her earlier. It was filled with masks, gloves, and goggles.
“He’s inside.”
“Yes, sir.”
The signal to act was the moment the man went inside the house while cleaning.
This was the plan they’d devised during their makeshift meeting at the karaoke bar. The client, who’d recently bought a second home with a swimming pool, had been throwing parties for his friends almost every day. This week, he’d even taken the entire time off for a pool party. Their goal was to take care of him right at the end of it.
I hadn’t been told how to take care of him. Taemo and Kang-i hadn’t given me any hints about that either. It seemed we’d only discussed the route and when to disable the CCTV. All I knew was that I had to wait for the pool cleaning to start, and the goal was to finish it the moment he went inside the house.
Besides, Juhyeon had been so focused on Kang-i explaining the cleaning equipment and solutions—and the best way to scrub away blood—that he’d had no time to think about anything else. Today must be the first day I’m actually working as a cleaner, he thought.
Clutching his bulging bag, Juhyeon shot a nervous glance at Taemo.
Taemo was tapping away at his phone, his expression unreadable. He’s probably updating Kang-i on the situation, Juhyeon guessed.
As if he’d already finished his preparations, Taemo stepped out of the car without a moment’s hesitation. Juhyeon scrambled out of the passenger seat after him. Just as he was about to follow, leaving the car door ajar, Taemo raised his left hand, knuckles clenched, signaling him to stop. Then, moving silently, he hurried ahead alone.
“…”
Juhyeon crouched awkwardly, his eyes fixed on Taemo’s retreating back.
Taemo moved quickly up the densely wooded path, disappearing into the trees and underbrush surrounding the detached house. His dark green clothing seemed to swallow him whole, making him vanish from sight almost instantly. Juhyeon peeked out from behind a branch.
The guest had the music blaring in the yard, the sliding glass doors to the living room thrown wide open. He paced back and forth inside, his actions a blur of restless movement. Juhyeon watched him without blinking, his gaze locked on the man.
After what felt like an eternity, a dark figure suddenly materialized from the shadows. Juhyeon recognized Taemo instantly. His movements had been so silent that the guest hadn’t noticed him until he was right behind him.
In the blink of an eye, Taemo wrapped an arm around the man’s neck and yanked him back.
The scene was a perfect mirror of the first murder Juhyeon had ever witnessed. Taemo held the struggling man in a vice grip, whispering something in his ear. Then, without a hint of movement from his own body, Taemo raised his other hand, the brass knuckles gleaming.
His fist plunged into the man’s abdomen.
Even as the man thrashed in agony, Taemo continued to rain blows upon his stomach. Juhyeon watched as something dark red splattered onto the floor by their feet. With a final shove, Taemo sent the completely broken man sprawling to the ground.
The man scrambled away, screaming.
“Why—why are you doing this! Who the hell are you?!”
His desperate pleas reached Juhyeon, who was hiding in the shadows. She whipped her head around, scanning their surroundings. She’d already confirmed the area was empty on her way in, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking again.
Taemo slowly closed in on the man crawling on the ground, murmuring something to him. After a few moments of leaning back with a laugh and nodding as he continued the conversation, Taemo suddenly flipped the man onto his back. Overpowered, the man lay flat on the ground, screaming his head off.
“Ah! Aaaagh!”
The agonized shriek echoed through the mountains. It was a good thing no one else was around; if they’d been, someone would have rushed over to investigate immediately. Taemo pinned the man down with his knee, pressing firmly, and began fumbling with the front of his pants.
“…What the hell are you doing?”
Why are you suddenly opening his pants? Juhyeon narrowed his eyes, staring at the unexpected turn of events.
Even with his crotch completely exposed, the guest seemed too preoccupied to notice. He just kept screaming, his voice choked with sobs.
Taemo quickly followed up with a flurry of punches. The knuckles, now drenched in blood, repeatedly slammed into the man’s lower body. A faint, squelching sound seemed to echo through the air.
“…”
The struggling man soon went still. The ground around him must have been covered in blood. His crotch—dick and all—would be completely mangled by now. Cruel, Juhyeon thought, but then the man’s past atrocities flashed through his mind, and he felt a strange sense of satisfaction.
Taemo slowly wiped his blood-covered knuckles on his own pants. He rose to his feet and gave a short wave with one hand. Though they were far apart, Juhyeon felt as if their eyes had met.
“Ack!”
Juhyeon jumped, then quickly grabbed the tools set up behind the car. He pushed through the underbrush just as Taemo had, coming upon a broken fence and sagging barbed wire. He squeezed himself through the gap, grunting with the effort.
The moment he straightened up, a dark figure loomed before him, making him flinch.
“Ah! You scared me!”
“Move it.”
Taemo was already there, standing by the back door that led to the kitchen. He held an unconscious man by the hair, the man’s body dangling limply. He must have dragged him all the way from the living room.
“…Yes, sir.”
Juhyeon adjusted his mask, but the metallic tang of blood still pierced his nostrils. The sickening smell seemed to burrow into his very brain, freezing him in place.
A large hand touched Juhyeon’s back.
“You took the advance payment, so you’d better get moving.”
Pushed forward, Juhyeon took a hesitant step. A pool of blood had collected in one corner of the living room, and a smeared trail of blood stretched all the way to the back door leading to the kitchen. The sight was enough to make her skin crawl, but she knew running away now would send her straight to prison.
The air conditioner was on, keeping the room cool, yet beads of sweat began to form on her forehead. Juhyeon wiped her brow with the back of her hand and set the cooler box, filled with various tools, on the floor.
“U-Um, do I just… clean all of this?”
“Yeah.”
Juhyeon pushed a small table out of the way to make room to scrub the blood, then opened the cooler. She grabbed a few tools and rested her hands on her hips.
Huuu.
I got paid. Just get to work. Focus on the money. Just the money.
Taking a deep breath, I started cleaning up just as Kang-i had instructed. I piled thick kitchen towels onto the pool of blood to soak it up, stuffing the used ones into a blue plastic bag as I worked.
Once I’d reduced the amount of blood, I filled a small bucket with water and poured in hydrogen peroxide. I soaked a small brush in the solution and scrubbed away the blood splattered on the floor. There hadn’t been much to begin with, but I scrubbed fiercely at even the smallest speck.
The metallic tang of blood kept stinging my nose. I was barely managing to breathe through my mouth when a heavy presence loomed behind me. Crash! Something fell over. I glanced back to see the food waste bin overturned, its contents strewn across a corner of the backyard. Taemo was standing right next to it, so he must have kicked it over.
“…Be careful. What if you leave a trace?”
“Just do your job.”
He replied without even glancing her way. I was just worried because it looks dangerous, and he’s giving me attitude? She scowled and went back to scrubbing the floor with the fine-bristle brush. After scrubbing the floor on her hands and knees, she lowered her goggles.
Unlike before, her vision was now darkened, and she could see glints of something here and there. Those must be the remaining bloodstains. Evidence of murder, and traces that absolutely had to be erased. Tense with anxiety, Juhyeon focused on scrubbing the floor again.
Before she knew it, the water in the small bucket had turned blood-red. Fearing that bloodstains would remain if she emptied the water into the sink, she carefully dumped it into the backyard drain and refilled the bucket with a hose, repeating the process. How long had she been pouring all her effort into erasing the trail connecting the living room and the kitchen? She heard Taemo’s footsteps approaching.
“Are you done?”
Juhyeon pushed her goggles up, and only then did Taemo’s figure come into sharp focus. He had changed clothes; he was wearing something different from before.
“I think I’ve cleaned everything except the area around the body,” she said.
Taemo approached, leaning down to scan the floor and the surrounding area. He gave a small nod.
“Let’s wrap this up.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to double-check?”
“I’m sure.”
Taemo seemed completely unbothered, as if he wasn’t worried at all about leaving the cleanup to a novice. He simply tied the plastic bag containing the blood-soaked paper towels shut.
Is he really okay with this? Juhyeon took a shallow breath. She had been so anxious, worried she might even break into a sweat. She wiped the damp hair from her forehead with the back of her hand. Now, the smell of disinfectant from the swimming pool was stronger than the scent of blood.
Come to think of it, the whole thing was strange. They hadn’t laid down plastic sheets like last time, so blood had already seeped into the floor everywhere. And the body—it was obvious the man had been murdered. There was no way they could disguise this as an accident, like when they’d set the car on fire. What the hell is he thinking?
But all Juhyeon could do here was follow orders.
“…I don’t know.”
If he says it’s fine, I guess it’s fine.
Juhyeon wiped the surrounding area with the wet wipes Kang-i had given him for the cleanup, then sprayed the liquid from the spray bottle all over. Finally, he dumped the bloody water from the bucket down the drain and ran bleach-water over it several times. Even as he worked, the stench of food rotting in the backyard was nauseating.
“The smell of the food waste is fucking disgusting.”
“Better than the smell of blood.”
“I guess, but still…”
Juhyeon’s voice trailed off as her gaze drifted to the man slumped against the kitchen’s side door. He didn’t look completely dead, yet he hadn’t stirred once while they’d been cleaning. What if he wakes up and reports us? We’d be in huge trouble. Her eyes kept darting back to him.
“Hey, isn’t that guy still alive?” she whispered, pressing close to Taemo.
Up close, he smelled strongly of leather.
“The kids won’t come down unless we go,” Taemo said. “They know it’s feeding time.”
“The kids?”
Taemo jerked his chin toward the mountain, where dense trees cast long shadows. Kids living in the mountains? Juhyeon quickly scanned their surroundings. A house halfway up a deep mountain, lights strung around the fence, the stench of blood and rotting food… It seemed like an inviting spot for displaced wild animals to scavenge.
Images of beasts tearing into a corpse flashed through her mind.
“Agh!”
Juhyeon’s short cry echoed through the mountains.
“Go ahead, just go on and invite every wild animal in the neighborhood,” Taemo said, clicking his tongue as he shot Juhyeon a look of pure exasperation. Then, he hopped over the fence and disappeared.
“W-wait! Wait for me!”
Juhyeon scrambled to lock the cooler before rushing after him. He squeezed himself through the gap Taemo held open in the sagging barbed-wire fence. But as he stumbled through, his legs gave out, and he fell flat on his face. The sudden release of tension had drained his strength. Even so, he didn’t let go of the cooler slung over his shoulder, curling his body tight to avoid the sharp edges of the fence.
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