Hyeon-ju sat buried deep in the sofa, her eyes fixed intently on Tae-ho. Her gaze was thick with suspicion.
"What exactly is the problem?"
Tae-ho let out a heavy sigh and shook his head, his eyes drifting toward the distance.
"Let's just stay away from Smile Capital. I'll have Yang-jung take care of Jae-myeong and his men quietly."
Frustrated, Hyeon-ju raised her voice. "Why? Why do we have to avoid them?"
"Those people treat human lives like they're lighter than a fly's. I'm thinking of moving the bookstore soon, too."
"Grandpa!"
As Hyeon-ju tried to press him further, Tae-ho locked eyes with her. His pupils held the weight of years of regret and a profound, bone-deep exhaustion.
"Hyeon-ju. Look at me. I'm old and tired. I don't have the strength or the courage left to fight them anymore. I just want to live out my remaining days in peace. I want to teach you what I need to teach you, and organize the things... the things I want to leave to you when I'm gone. That is the only thing I want right now. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Hyeon-ju remained silent for a moment before giving a slow, reluctant nod. A thin smile finally touched Tae-ho's lips.
"Good. And... thank you."
---
The next morning, before Joe could even crack an eye open, his weathered wooden front door began to scream in protest.
BAM! BAM! BAM!
"Hey! You brat! I know you're in there! Get out here right now!"
The landlord's screeching made Joe's eyelids twitch. Having fallen asleep late the night before, his head felt like it was splitting open. Outside, the sound of the doorknob being rattled to the point of breaking was accompanied by a steady stream of gravelly curses.
"Where do you get off playing dead, huh? Hey! Joe! Your rent is over months late! Do I look like a joke to you? Do I?!"
Joe pulled the blanket over his head, hoping for silence, but the man had no intention of giving up. If anything, he added a kick to the rhythm.
THWACK!
"I said get out here, you damn leech! If I don't see that money today, I'm tossing every scrap of your junk into the hallway! You think I haven't dealt with punks like you before? Open this door!"
Joe endured it for as long as he could before finally pushing himself up. With his hair a bird's nest and his eyes half-lidded, he trudged toward the door. Outside, he could hear the landlord's labored, wheezing breath.
"You hear me? You're dead meat today! Before I call the cops, you better—"
At that exact moment, Joe yanked the door wide open.
The landlord, caught mid-kick, stumbled forward as his foot met nothing but air. Joe leaned against the doorframe, looking down at the old man with a gaze that could draw blood.
'It's too damn early for this much noise.'
The sudden sight of Joe swallowed the landlord's curses whole. As the man stared at Joe's solid, scarred chest and the cold intensity in his eyes, he swallowed hard and took a frantic step back.
Joe slapped the wad of cash against the man's chest.
"Take it."
The landlord stared at the money, his anger replaced by total confusion. "What... what is this? Is this real?"
Joe, already halfway through closing the door, gave a disinterested shrug. "What? You can't recognize good money anymore? Don't worry, it's real. And no, I didn't rob a bank."
Just then, the landlord's wife came scurrying up the stairs. She had intended to apologize for her husband's behavior, but seeing Joe—with his compact muscles, long silky hair, and piercing eyes—she froze in her tracks, stunned.
Joe gave her a brief, flat look and shut the door. Immediately, his stomach let out a thunderous rumble. He checked the fridge, only to find a few stray medicine bottles and a carton of expired milk.
'I should probably treat myself to something decent,' he thought.
He threw on some clothes and headed out.
---
Not long after Joe had stepped out, a black van with a roaring engine slunk into the narrow alleyway. The doors slid open, and three men with jagged, violent faces stepped out.
'Viper,' a veteran enforcer working under Jun-min, spat on the pavement as he scanned the area. He clutched a folder containing Joe's personal details.
"This the place?"
A subordinate stepped forward, pointing at the weathered four-story building.
"Yeah. Unit 302. I'm positive."
They stormed up the stairs, their heavy boots thundering against the concrete. The moment they reached the third floor, Viper delivered a crushing kick to Joe's front door.
BOOM!
"Hey! Joe! I know you're in there! Crawl out right now!"
The entire hallway shuddered from the impact. When no answer came, Viper kicked the door again, his voice rising to a predatory shriek.
"Where do you get off playing hide-and-seek like a damn rat? I heard you did some boxing in Japan—did you leave your balls back there too? If you don't open this door right now, I'm breaking it down and snapping every bone in your body!"
The lackeys flanking him joined in, barking their own threats.
"Hey! You foreign piece of trash! Come out while our boss is still asking nicely! Unless you want today to be your funeral!"
Viper pulled a blade from his pocket and began dragging the tip across the wooden door, a sickening screech echoing as he let out a low, vile chuckle.
"Hey, Joe! You really thought you could touch our boys and get away with it? I'm gonna rip that tongue out and salt it for you, so get out here, you son of a bitch!"
Their shouting turned the quiet building into a theater of terror. Neighbors held their breath behind locked doors, as the hallway filled with the sound of steel against wood and the weight of their violent intent.
The landlord came charging up the stairs, his voice booming through the hallway. He had just finished stuffing the wad of cash Joe gave him into his pocket, and his liquid courage was at an all-time high.
"You lowlife pieces of trash! Who the hell do you think you are, barging in here and acting like you own the place?! You're friends with that brat in Room 302, aren't you? Birds of a feather, I swear! You're all a bunch of thugs!"
The hulking men sent by Jun-min stopped kicking the door and turned around. Viper let out a dry snort.
"This old fossil must've lost his mind. Hey, watch your mouth, gramps. Before I rip it off your face."
"What? Rip it off? You arrogant punks! I've seen enough of your kind! Get out before I call the cops! You and that kid are all the same—bottom-of-the-barrel scum!"
At the landlord's sharp insults, the thugs' eyes turned predatory in an instant.
"Son of a... I was gonna let you slide, but I guess you're asking for it."
Viper stepped forward, grabbed the landlord by the collar, and slammed him against the wall.
BAM!
"AGH!"
His wife, who had been trailing behind, let out a shriek and lunged forward, grabbing the thug's arm.
"Oh my god, please stop! Please! My husband just has a big mouth, he didn't mean it! I'm so sorry, please just let him go!"
But the men didn't stop. They hurled the landlord to the floor and began driving their boots into his ribs.
THUD! THWACK!
"AGH! HURRK! Help me! I'm sorry! I was wrong! Please, stop!"
The fiery bravado from moments ago was gone. The landlord was now crawling on the floor, rubbing his hands together in a pathetic plea for mercy.
"Nothing but a loud-mouthed old man. Hey, keep stomping him."
"AGHH! Save me! Honey, call the police! Quick!"
As the wife tremblingly reached for her phone, another thug snatched her wrist with a rough jerk.
"Where do you think you're calling, huh? I don't think this lady understands the situation yet."
The man grabbed her by the hair and pinned her against the wall. Tears streamed down her face, her eyes wide with terror.
"Please... please stop. We're sorry. We were wrong..."
"I know you're sorry, but my mood's already ruined. You know, you're not bad looking for your age. Why don't you come with us for a bit?"
The thugs let out a series of lecherous chuckles as one reached out to grab at her clothes. It was at that exact moment a bored, flat voice drifted from the top of the stairs.
"Huh. What exactly are you guys doing here?"
Joe was standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his black hoodie. He had come back for the extra cash, and now he was looking down at them with an expression that said he was more annoyed than anything else.