Swallow Hunting - Chapter 9.1
“Hajin.”
“That’s absolutely not possible…”
His words began to falter. If Yohan had been there, he would have screamed, “You idiot!” at the top of his lungs.
But there was nothing Hae-jun could do. He was weak when it came to women. More precisely, he was weak against a woman’s tears.
Perhaps it was because the image of his mother being hit by his father had been etched into his subconscious, or maybe because of the memory of Yohan’s grandmother crying while being humiliated by hired thugs—it didn’t matter. Whenever he saw a pitiful woman, his heart softened endlessly. He rationalized that if delicate, small women were in pain, it was better for him, the tougher one, to endure it himself.
“Please…”
But no meant no. If he gave in now, he was screwed. He remembered the man who had come to the shop, the ruthless act, the dangerous aura—and he clenched his fists, trying to steady himself. Yet, the tears streaming down the woman’s face made his resolve wobble. His tongue betrayed him.
“…Then just this once.”
Yohan’s sharp click of the tongue echoed in his mind. He really doesn’t fit this world… A sly little bastard, all cunning until the critical moment, and then completely soft for the sake of sentiment. Hae-jun shook his head at the memory, knowing it would replay itself over and over.
But what could he do? He couldn’t coldly abandon a woman in trouble. The real pushover here wasn’t anyone else—it was Cha Hae-jun.
Having achieved her goal, Han Young-hwa pulled a handkerchief from her bag and dabbed at her tears. The expression that had melted everyone’s hearts vanished as if it had never existed. With her usual cold, dignified composure, she looked down at Hae-jun.
“Then I’ll arrange the place. You must come. If you don’t, I’ll tell the boss.”
“The boss? What… what would you even say to him?”
“That you, Hajin, tried to run off without paying Myking.”
“When did I—!”
Hae-jun’s mouth dropped open. Sure, he had briefly thought about it, but he had immediately changed his mind and continued working diligently. He had even gone to the hospital, all to make sure he could get himself upright again.
Desperately grabbing her sleeve, he tried to insist he hadn’t, but Han Young-hwa didn’t listen. She gently took his hand and pulled it away without mercy.
“I’ll text you the place and time. You know what to do, right?”
“No, wait—just a moment…!”
“If you’re going to argue, take your dick off first.”
With that, she drew up her skirt and left the room. Hae-jun scrambled after her, but even in heels, she moved so quickly she was already at the counter.
“Are you leaving already, ma’am?” the boss asked, bowing as she approached. She pulled a thick stack of bills from her wallet and set it down.
“Ah, ma’am, why not stay a bit longer?”
“I have urgent business.”
Han Young-hwa glanced back at Hae-jun over her shoulder, then pressed the side of her hand to her cheek and silently mouthed something only he could read. Hae-jun understood immediately: Ma… i… king. The boss, too busy counting the bills, didn’t notice her lips moving.
Once Han Young-hwa left, Hae-jun slid down the wall, his back against it. His face had gone pale yellow. That familiar, sinking feeling of being in deep trouble hit him squarely in the back of the head.
“What happened to you?” the boss asked, leaning over to look at him.
Daniel’s severed ankle flashed before his eyes—an image of what might become his own future.
Even if he insisted he had never tried to run off with Myking, would the boss believe him? The boss had a saying he always repeated: Never trust any bastard with a dick, whether they’re a grasshopper or a hired hand. He always rattled off the names of those who had run off with money before: Jo Min-sik, Im Gu-young, Jang Tae-kyung, and so on.
“…No…”
“Then why are you just sitting there?”
“I just… lost my strength for a moment.”
“Young man, already losing strength? Back in my day, we worked five rounds a day and still showed up early the next morning. Snap out of it! Get up, wash your face, and be ready!”
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