It was at that moment that Tae Sagi pushed off from the wall and took a few light, dancing steps forward. He positioned himself between them, his wide smile growing even wider, but now there was something predatory in it.
"Eh-eh-eh, momento, momento, my dears!" he exclaimed, raising a finger. "Let's clear things up, because this is getting rather ugly. Sung Wo, let the lady go. She's not at fault here. She just... misunderstood the rules of the game."
Jin Xi pulled her arm free, looking at Tae Sagi with hope. But the hope died before it was born.
"You see, my dear Jin Xi," Tae Sagi leaned towards her, his voice becoming sweet, almost sympathetic, but his eyes remained icy. "You are now fired. Finally and irrevocably. Sorry, but the rules in this establishment are now set by him," he turned his gaze towards Ming You. "He's the 'head honcho' here. And the head honcho said 'get the fuck out.' And you know what's the funniest thing?" he paused for dramatic effect. "I fucking love this decision."
Jin Xi recoiled as if slapped.
"What? But... I was just... Tae Sagi, you're joking!"
"First of all, it's Tae Sagi-nim to you; second, I rarely joke, dear. And almost never when it comes to discipline," Tae Sagi straightened up and turned fully to Ming You, spreading his hands in an exaggeratedly deferential gesture. "Hey! It's not my decision, it's Ming You's decision! Shouldn't we treat him with more respect, huh? After all, if you remember, we are his debtors! Every spectator from that court where he turned two healthy bulls into pathetic milk cows remembers that, right? And everyone, how should I put it... doesn't give a flying fuck about it, right, Ming You? We're all adults here, understanding people, yes?"
His words hung in the air — poisonous, ambiguous, simultaneously an acknowledgment of Ming You's status and a reminder of the world they all inhabited.
Ming You slowly shifted his gaze from Jin Xi to Tae Sagi. There was no anger or irritation in his eyes, only the same cold, analytical clarity.
"You're overacting, Tae Sagi," he said calmly. "You're ruining the party atmosphere with your antics."
Tae Sagi froze for a split second, then laughed — this time genuinely, loudly, from the heart.
"Oh, damn! Right, overacting! Getting old, I guess, starting to love drama. Alright, alright!" he clapped his hands. "Sung Wo, escort the lady to the exit. Pay her two weeks' severance, for emotional distress. And I don't want to see her here again. And you," he turned to the team, "what are you staring at? Order! Wine, girls, turn the music up louder! If the head honcho said celebrate — then we celebrate!"
Jin Xi, utterly humiliated, pursed her lips. She no longer looked at Ming You or Tae Sagi. Casting one last glance filled with silent hatred at the entire company, she turned sharply and headed for the exit, her heels clacking loudly on the floor.
Sung Wo hurried after her, fussing. Tae Sagi, still chuckling, waved a hand at the bartender, pointing towards the "Yoshido" table, and called out loudly:
"First bottle — on me, for team bonding!"
The team finally began to relax, but the glances they stole at Ming You were now a mixture of admiration and complete understanding: the boundaries in their world had shifted again. And their captain now stood on the other side, giving orders even to someone like Tae Sagi. Or, at the very least, forcing him to stage a farce of his own submission. It was a new, staggering reality.
A cart with bottles, ice, and snacks was wheeled to the table. The sound of whiskey being poured into glasses dispelled the remaining tension.
"So," began Haru Lin, raising his glass first, "to Hong Ren performing an exorcism on those newcomers tomorrow, not a game. Let them feel sick looking at a ball after meeting us."
"Exorcism is when an evil spirit is driven out," Hong Ren corrected impassively, taking a small sip of his drink. "I'll just show them the door out of the game. Quickly and without unnecessary ceremony, right in their face."
"Oh, you modest man!" laughed Jung Ho, and his laughter held a warm, brotherly pride. "A four-fold scoring rate... They'll go crazy trying to stop you. They'll be like kittens around a guard dog — circling, hissing, but not even coming close."
Ming You, slowly swirling his glass, watched them. His face remained calm, but a shadow of approval seemed to flicker in his eyes. He raised his glass, and everyone automatically fell silent, turning their attention to him.
"Victory will be easy," he said in his even, unquestionable voice. "So easy that by the end of the first half, they'll already be begging for mercy. And we'll return here," he made a light gesture with his glass, outlining a circle around their table, "to celebrate a real victory. Not anticipation, but an accomplished fact. And this time, we'll take over the whole place."
His words, spoken without pomp, sounded like a prophecy. There was a force in them that made even the skeptic Hong Ren nod with genuine respect.
"Yeah, and this time I'll bring not one, but two whole girls!" Loudly, defying his recent confusion, Lu Shen declared, trying to join in the general confidence. "So one can cheer me on, and the other... well, you get it!"
His attempt to brag provoked a new burst of laughter.
"Oh, Lu Shen," Haru Lin couldn't resist teasing, squinting. "Are you sure you can handle even one? Don't forget, you need to at least not pass out midway like last time! We don't want you having to explain again that you 'just had too much.'"
"Yeah, don't worry, I might even teach you a couple of tricks," Hong Ren chimed in, and a rare, caustic smirk flashed across his usually impassive face. "Maybe you'll manage not to embarrass yourself so badly it becomes legendary for once."
"Ha-ha, very funny," replied Lu Shen, trying to maintain seriousness and pouring himself more whiskey. "I just prefer quality, not quantity. A thorough approach, you understand?"
"Quality?" Haru Lin pounced again, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "A second ago it was quantity, wasn't it?"
The whole table, even Ming You played along perfectly, erupted in loud laughter again. Lu Shen turned red to the roots of his hair but, feeling support, even in such a mocking form, tried to wriggle out.
"Alright, alright! This time I'll REALLY try!" he almost shouted, overriding the laughter, and for emphasis, slammed his fist on the table, making the glasses clink. "But only if you're all nearby to... cheer me on! Motivation, so to speak!"
"Ugh," snorted Jung Ho, wiping a tear of laughter. "You're going to watch us at such a... crucial moment? You're such a pervert, Lu Shen! Can you even imagine how that looks? We're all standing around, clapping and shouting 'Go, Lu Shen, show her what a real basketball player is made of!'?"
"He won't be watching us," Hong Ren interjected with deadly impassivity, taking a sip from his glass. "He'll be looking for approval in our eyes. Like a puppy that brought a slipper and is waiting to be patted on the head. 'Guys, am I doing it right? Am I good?'"
A new wave of laughter spurred on the general merriment. Lu Shen wasn't just red anymore; he was glowing like a beacon. But in his eyes, through the embarrassment, there was a strange pleasure — he was the center of attention.
"So what?!" he blurted out, justifying himself. "Team spirit! We're a team in everything, aren't we?! In victories and in... everything else!"
"Oh, god," Haru Lin groaned, collapsing with laughter against the back of the sofa. "Now he wants to make that a team sport! Lu Shen, the next step — you'll want us to pass you around in a circle!"
The laughter doubled.
It was at that very moment, out of the corner of his eye, that Ming You noticed movement at the bar counter. Tae Sagi, having turned away from the bartender, was standing over two glasses of dark amber whiskey. His back blocked his hands for a second, but Ming You, with his icy, all-seeing observation, caught a deft, almost weightless movement of fingers. A tiny, semi-transparent bag flashed, disappearing over the rim of a glass. Then another — over the second. White, fine powder dissolved in the strong alcohol instantly, leaving no trace. Not into his own glasses. Into the ones standing next to him, which, apparently, were intended for guests.
Tae Sagi turned around, catching Ming You's gaze across the entire hall. And grinned. Not that wide, jester's grin, but a different one — narrow, understanding, full of cynical camaraderie on the other side of morality. It was the grin of an accomplice, offering to share knowledge that makes you stronger or, at the very least, alienates you from the rest. Ming You didn't even blink. The corner of his mouth twitched just enough to respond with the same silent, cold smirk of acceptance. He understood everything. And he was allowing it to happen.
Tae Sagi, with the grace of an experienced waiter, picked up a tray and headed towards their table, his gait loose and confident.
"So, heroes, enough of that swill!" he proclaimed, placing the very glasses in front of Jung Ho and Haru Lin. "Try this. Single malt, from distant islands. Smoky, like memories of first love, and strong, like a low blow. To the future champions!"
The guys, heated by laughter, whiskey, and the general high, didn't hesitate and picked up the glasses. Jung Ho nodded gratefully and clinked glasses with Tae Sagi.
"Thanks... For victory!"
"Don't mention it, buddy," Tae Sagi parried, and that same ambiguous deference crept back into his tone. He winked at Haru Lin. "Drink up, handsome. With a face like that, you should only drink expensive stuff."
Haru Lin smirked smugly and took a big gulp. Lu Shen and Hong Ren, not wanting to be left out, immediately reached for their glasses, which were quickly refilled by the bartender who approached. Ming You, however, simply raised his own, still almost-full glass.
"For victory," he said simply, and they all clinked glasses together this time.