Anyone could have been Yeoju's savior that day. The match flickered whitely in the flurry of snow, and her small lips were frozen white, making it difficult to spit out a single word. She had no family, and no one to fill her empty spot. Left alone on the chilly Boston streets, Yeoju would glance at the store windows, their lights ablaze with bright colors, far away, and curl her toes as she listened to the cozy chatter of families leaving the door. It was cold. She dropped her head. Her downcast gaze captured her boots, the toe stitching falling off. And a few matchboxes in her hand. That was all she had. The bright crackle of firecrackers, the warm dinner table steaming through the windows, no one friendly or distant. The world was filled with things that were not hers. Loneliness overtook her so easily. So that day, anyone could be her savior.
"Hey kid, are you still selling these matches?"
...Ah. The heroine suddenly came to her senses. The sensation of the blade brushing against her hand was chillingly cold. She glanced down, and there lay a dagger the size of her palm, or perhaps a span longer. Taehyung, who was preparing a new target far away, spoke nonchalantly.
"If the sword is too strong, a gun. If you shoot well, it won't hit you."
"Huh? What are you talking about..."
"I'm talking about blood."
That thing that comes out when you and I both die. It's something most people would be reluctant to even mention, like "the weather is nice today." Even though Seokjin had assured her he could handle anything, the female protagonist, still unfamiliar with this harsh underworld, couldn't help but be a little surprised.
"... Ah, that... blood..."
"But, the more I look at it, the stranger it seems."
As Yeoju slowly withdrew her hand from the sword, Taehyung turned his back and let go of the target he was shooting at. The rattling sound was roughly equivalent to Yeoju's heartbeat. It was not easy to calm down something once it was excited, so Yeoju realized, a beat too slow, that he had already reached her.
"If we were managing a brothel, we wouldn't know. The boss's tastes have always been about money and drugs."
Taehyung chuckles and tilts his head.
"Why did I pick you up?"
Naturally, Yeoju couldn't answer that question. Isn't that obvious? What more could she possibly add to a question she didn't know? Furthermore, from the moment she'd been led here by Seokjin's hand, Yeoju had assumed she'd been given an implicit promise: that she shouldn't so easily doubt her salvation.
"What, no response. It's not fun."
Taehyung, losing interest at the continued silence, quickly changed the subject, seemingly having no intention of delving deeper. "Have you ever used a gun?"
.
I threw back the covers. I had the same dream again. The man from the dream, surprisingly intact, sat next to me, his face still intact. The back of my hand, pinched so hard, immediately began to ache, so I had no trouble accepting this was real. Come to think of it, Yeoju had never seen him disheveled before.
"I wondered where it hurt. It was so painful that it seemed like it would die soon."
"Ugh. There's a bitter taste in my mouth..."
"I wish there was a medicine that was as sweet as candy, but whatever."
Seokjin shook the capsule on the table. Ah, the medicine... Yeoju cleared her throat for no reason. It seemed like the aftereffects of being immersed in practice for a while had manifested themselves in this way.
"Don't push yourself too hard, the deal is coming soon."
"I can't sleep because I'm thinking about hurting people."
"That's just the car, our goal is to get the goods. As long as it goes well, we won't have to use what we've learned."
"......"
From the day I arrived at Seokjin's hideout, I soon discovered something. For someone with such a youthful appearance, the mansion in his name was far too luxurious, and despite his well-bred first impression, his body was absurdly covered in scars. He was a Cosa Nostra member.Cosa Nostra, mafia. That man named Min Yoongi said so. It was a short, concise answer, but no words could be clearer. Yeoju stared blankly at his back as he left, saying, "I know, since we're entangled." Perhaps she'd known from the beginning. She'd long since abandoned the delusion that a man who put a knife in her hand while saying he loved her would be an ordinary person. Waves were surging inside her. The tremors seemed to intensify. Seokjin looked at Yeoju and asked.
"You look like you don't believe me?"
Soon, he declared.
"I don't think so."
...Yes. Seokjin, who had briefly lost his cool, soon stroked Yeoju's head. His warm smile remained unchanged. His kindness remained unchanged. Then why was he so cold, as if walking on ice? She caressed his fingertips. Yeoju suddenly remembered how she had first entered this business. How she had been so blinded by the thought of becoming his person that she would do anything.
"mister."
"huh."
"Do you still smoke?"
I slowly looked up at him. The slight raise of one eyebrow seemed to indicate a curiosity about the question.
"I mean... do you still need matches..."
His voice kept fading. It was because he wasn't sure. Seokjin placed his hand over the one clutching the blanket tightly. It was warm. His hand, which had been trembling slightly, magically stopped. Pavlov's dog. His dark eyes reflected his reflection.
"Kim Yeo-ju."
"......"
"I trust you with a task because I trust you that much. Trust is quite valuable in this business."
His head tilted as he approached. His eyes widened as the warmth of another person spread through him. Slowly, a small smile fell from his lips as he added.
"What about love?"
Love. Love. My heart pounded. Only by taking a step back could I make a rational judgment. There was no way out of this swamp that was constantly eating away at me other than to distance myself. But he spoke such sweet words. He whispered his love so easily to me, when I felt like I would die of loneliness. The female lead was suddenly embraced by Seokjin. She wrapped her arms around his neck. She couldn't abandon him. Even if the man who treated her so affectionately was a criminal who casually got blood on his hands, a murderer disguised as a gentleman.
.
A Cadillac, painted pitch-black, spun across the sand. It was a completely different scene from when he'd spent the night shivering and selling matches. And of course, it had been months already. 1613. It was an abandoned building, and it was the site of a recent bombing attack. A voice from a different source could be faintly heard on the walkie-talkie Seokjin held. It was undoubtedly Yoongi's voice, still in the hideout. Taehyung, who had been twisting the steering wheel wildly, turned around without fear.
"You blew up the whole building to make it a trading post? You crazy bastards."
"Kim Taehyung, look ahead. If you don't want to die on good terms with money."
"That's good."
He chuckled, then suddenly stepped on the accelerator. He was going full throttle. The sudden acceleration caused her to lose her balance and lurch forward, but someone's arm firmly blocked her shoulder.
"We'll have to change drivers, right?"
Seokjin laughed leisurely. It wasn't a situation worthy of laughter, but she wondered how he could do that. But when she realized the car she was in belonged to none other than the mafia, her doubts naturally subsided. The corners of her mouth trembled. She took a deep breath. Whether it was the weight or her mood, the gun in her inner pocket felt incredibly present the entire time.
Before leaving, Seokjin instructed Yeoju to tie her hair and wear a hat. With her long, unwieldy yellow hair tucked into the hat, she looked like a boy at first glance. "It's best not to say anything," he said. Yeoju nodded without asking any questions. Taehyung glanced at the back seat with a puzzled look, but he didn't pay any attention to it. He swallowed his resistance and obeyed. That was the image Seokjin desired most from her.
"Pass the bag and grab your things and come out. If anyone follows you out of the building, contact them immediately."
The walkie-talkie was clutched in the heroine's hand. It was receiving signals, but no sound was heard.
"Sir, are you going with me too?"
"well."
"yes?"
"We only have one person to deal with."
It felt like something was crashing down. More precisely, it crushed me, shapeless. Seokjin didn't even blink as the female protagonist acted as if the world was crumbling before him. He grabbed her hand. He yearned for warmth, but his thin silk-gloved hands were no longer as warm as usual. Just as he'd seen before, concrete debris littered the floor. The street was silent. Only Taehyung's radio, playing from the driver's seat, filled the darkness.
"hurry."
A cold voice stabs deep into my heart.
.
Only three people had emerged from the supposedly large gang. In reality, there was no shortage of three people, let alone one. The scattered supplies, broken liquor bottles lying around, added to the raw atmosphere of the place Yeoju had entered. Aside from the occasional hole in the wall, the structure was completely sealed off on all sides. It was impossible to shake off the tension.
"Oh my, I haven't seen that face before."
The one sitting in the very center slowly looked the female protagonist up and down.
"He even sent a child. What a vicious bastard."
The middle-aged man, who had been clicking his tongue, quickly took a thick cigar from his pocket and lit it. "Kid, did you bring the money?" One of them, who appeared to be a subordinate, attached an expensive-looking metal lighter to the end and lit it. At the sound, the female protagonist suddenly shuddered. The corners of her lips wrinkled upward, a strangely sinister expression.
"I have to say something."
"......"
"Did your new master send you the money he promised?"
Seokjin had spoken, but a strange sense of unease kept me from opening my mouth. Still, the deal had to succeed. It was a promise between them, built on trust. The footsteps that had halted abruptly at the entrance began to move, albeit slowly. Before them lay a round wooden table, untouched by any flaws. The female protagonist placed a bag of money on it.
"Open it and see."
Following the man's instructions, the man next to him opened the leather bag. It felt heavy, and even with a quick glance, he could tell it contained dozens of bundles of dollars. A look of satisfaction spread across his face. Success, perhaps? The heroine was relieved to no longer have to hold the gun in her pocket. Until someone, taking advantage of her slack, knocked off her hat. Ah...! A single exclamation rang out, and long hair blew out of her sight.
"A girl?"
The man let out a hollow laugh.
"...Well, it's our advantage."
Grab it. As soon as the order was given, the two men on either side rushed towards the female protagonist.
***
Taehyung tapped the steering wheel.
"I wondered why. Was this what you picked it up for?"
"I have a customer who wants opium."
"The boss knows. They're using that as an excuse to take hostages and use this opportunity to expand our influence."
"How can one against three be a good bet? Why would you make a bet that you're already losing?" he sneered at the desolate field.
"Then should I send you away?"
Seokjin's eyes grew even more fierce. He didn't know why he was so sensitive, but he was right now. It was the moment when the female protagonist had just made contact with them. The situation in the abandoned building was unfolding just as he'd hoped. He'd brought her here for that purpose. She was a street bastard with no ties to any organization. There were no lies. Breaking the hostage, handing it over to them, and then taking their belongings when they let their guard down. That was clearly Seokjin's original plan. Taehyung, his arm resting on the passenger seatback, responded, not giving in.
"Put your hat on a disposable person, don't raise your voice, you're always interfering."
"...If they find out she's a girl, things will get complicated."
"If that's the logic, wouldn't it be right to bring a strong man?"
"......"
"It's too grandiose to say you brought it for fun. It's too precious to say you planned to use it for trading."
What the hell? Seokjin didn't answer, but put a cigarette in his mouth. He reached into his suit pocket. He reached for a lighter, and then a matchbox fell into his fingertips. He didn't hesitate long to decide which one to use. And then, from the radio, which had been silent all along, came Yoongi's report.
"Things are not good."
Acrid smoke rose from the lit end.
"It seems like we've been taken hostage."
Seokjin's forehead furrowed.
***
Even though I managed to duck into a corner, my legs were shaking, making it uncertain whether there would be another opportunity. My breathing was rapid. As I was desperately searching my pockets, the heroine caught sight of, coincidentally, a gun. I had to hit the head to kill them. Or else they'd come back to life like zombies? So, if you don't want to get hit in the back of the head, shoot them dead center in the forehead. I remembered Taehyung's playful, yet somehow cruel, teachings. Countless thoughts surged through me in an instant. My survival instinct overcame my guilt. I have to shoot. I could shoot at the snap of a finger. I couldn't get any farther, or any closer. If I'm going to kill them, now was the perfect time. The heroine hurriedly pulled out the gun with her sweaty right hand. And...
Tick.
"......"
"Didn't you... load it?" The flustered men laughed at the dumbfounded female protagonist as if nothing had happened. Then they quickly pulled out the guns from their waistbands. The fierce muzzles were pointed at the female protagonist instead. She squeezed her eyes shut.
bang.
bang.
bang.
There were three hits in total. There were no ear-splitting screams. There was no particular pain. However, a thick, bloody smell was slowly rising from beneath her feet. Instead of wind, like a nailed-down balloon, the blood that filled her head and soaked the floor in a thin stream. It was just like a beach with crashing waves. The female protagonist collapsed in front of the cruel sand castle. Her legs gave out and she landed on the floor in a daze. The walkie-talkie attached to her waist faintly crackled. The deal fell through. She's wrapping things up and heading back. Heavy footsteps resonated in the empty, abandoned building.
"...mister."
Seokjin throws the leaking gun far away.
"let's go."
Reach out to her.