Three Eight-Chapter 78

"What the hell are you talking about? Why the hell would I tell him to do that?"

Guppping shouted, and his face instantly went pale. His eyes widened as he hastily snatched Yang Siljang’s phone.

"Hey, fuck! Give me the phone, now!"

Mu-gyeong slowly tilted his head from side to side, quietly observing the two men’s expressions.

"You saw him take everything? Seriously? And you just stood there like a fucking idiot?" freewёbnoνel.com

Guppping yelled so loudly his voice cracked. Whatever he’d just heard must’ve shocked him—he jumped to his feet.

"That little fuck stabbed us in the back? That motherfucker! Get out there right now and find him!"

Yang Siljang, now just as alarmed, listened intently to the voice on the other end. Guppping suddenly let out a furious scream and hurled the phone onto the sofa.

"That fucking bastard ran off with the betting money! He cleaned out the safe, too! Fucking lunatic!"

The veins along his neck and forehead flushed bright red. He was so furious his hands were visibly shaking. Despite the explosive rage, Mu-gyeong remained calm, as if taking stock of the situation.

"Fucking punk must’ve memorized the safe codes like a damn rat after running errands a few times!"

Guppping clutched his head ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ and spun around in circles. Mu-gyeong idly tapped his toes against the floor. The rhythmic taps slowly drew unease across Guppping and Yang Siljang’s faces.

"Ungrateful little shit. This is how he repays us? Fuck, if I catch him, I’ll gouge his fucking eyes out—"

Clap clap. Mu-gyeong gently slapped his palms together to catch their attention.

"Sorry you got stabbed in the back and all."

Guppping froze mid-rant, fist still raised, muttering curses into the air.

"But I’ve sunk tens of billions into that tiny-ass House of yours. From the look of things, it’s not getting recovered, is it?"

Guppping flinched. After getting slapped around by a younger guy and enduring all that, now everything was threatening to fall apart. He looked genuinely panicked.

"The construction’s still moving along smoothly, right? Just hang in there a few more months and we’ll be swimming in cash. No need to worry like that! We just have to catch that Doksa punk!"

Mu-gyeong slowly stroked his chin, drawing out a long breath.

"With staff management like this, how’s it supposed to function?"

"This... this is a special case, damn it! I swear I’ll pay you back, President Mu-gyeong! The investment, the betting money, the debt—everything! Even if a knife’s at my throat, I’ll pay it back! We signed an IOU, didn’t we? Wait, hold on—Doksa, that fucking bastard—where the hell..."

Guppping’s words collapsed into a shout. He buried his face in both hands, stalling for time as if trying to think. Yang Siljang chimed in to back him up.

"Sometimes you get punks who bolt with the pot. There are people who specialize in tracking them down. It’s just that it’s the first time at our House, so we’re kind of panicking. But we’ll get the money back, really."

They took turns pleading with Mu-gyeong. They couldn’t afford to lose such a high-stakes whale now that they had so much to leech off him.

Any veteran gambler wouldn’t believe a single word of that polished excuse. They’d be screaming for their money and cutting ties on the spot.

"Tsk. Well, Guppping did stake the House, after all."

But Mu-gyeong played the role of the perfect sucker willingly—waiting for Guppping to grow so complacent he’d let his guard down entirely.

"More importantly, with things like this, is the game canceled or what? He should’ve shown up by now."

Mu-gyeong murmured, checking his watch again. It had already been twenty minutes since they entered the room.

"Looks like we’ll have to call it. Right, Guppping?"

"Fuck... We’ll delay it and catch him first. We have to beat the shit out of that bastard before we can play or do anything..."

Guppping ran a hand through his hair, forcing an awkward smile.

"Let’s just cancel today and reschedule. Doksa couldn’t have gotten far anyway. His passport and ID are all at my place."

"Ah."

Mu-gyeong gave a disinterested grunt, prompting Guppping to quickly add more.

"Sorry about this. But if we hire a pro, we’ll find him in a few days at most. That punk’s got a face that sticks out—won’t take long! Really!"

Mu-gyeong crossed his arms and said nothing, like he was thinking something over. Guppping, clearly nervous, tugged at the front of his shirt to cool down.

"If we push it back now, who knows when we’ll get another chance. You okay with that?"

"Yeah. This is a fucking disaster—we have to catch him no matter what. Shit, my fucking head’s splitting."

Guppping groaned and clutched his head. The bruised side of his face twitched like it was spasming.

"Fine. I’ll explain it all to Choi and send him back."

"Right. I’ll check things out and call you right back! Hey, call Manager Park now!"

Manager Park. That was a name Hongju had heard before. One of Guppping’s cops on the inside.

While Yang Siljang scrambled for his phone to find the contact, Mu-gyeong stood up with a stretch.

"Guess Yang Siljang was right. Can’t just let anyone in."

He threw an arm over Yang Siljang’s shoulder like a buddy, guiding him toward the entrance.

"See, I told you. That punk always gave me a bad vibe. You especially have to be careful with whoever’s dealing the cards—"

Yang Siljang snapped, fingers flying over his phone. Mu-gyeong tilted his head and peered at the screen. The contact was saved as [Manager Park], not a real name. One of Guppping’s backups. When Yang Siljang hit the call button, a phone number flashed: 010-2329-13...

"Goddamn it."

Yang Siljang brought the phone to his ear. Mu-gyeong silently repeated the number in his mind.

"Haah, once we catch that Doksa bastard, we’ll reschedule. Just explain things to Chief Choi."

"I’ll wait. Just call me when you find him. Gotta catch him before he flees the country."

After sending them off with a courteous farewell, Mu-gyeong headed back into the darkened room. He leaned against the doorframe and knocked on it like he was knocking on a door. Knock knock. Then he spoke into the darkness.

"You heard, right? Doksa ran off with the House’s money and the books. Today’s game’s off."

"I heard."

Hongju, who had been sitting with his back to the bed frame, slowly sat up. His thigh was sore, so he braced himself on the bedsheet as he moved.

"If he really ran, we should go after him now. You can’t just let Guppping off like that. Those two will disappear too—they won’t take the fall alone."

Mu-gyeong didn’t turn on the lights. He stood there, waiting as Hongju came out of the room.

"If they’ve got even half a brain, they will."

Hongju bit his lip hard like he was the one who just lost all that money. Mu-gyeong was on the verge of losing both the pot and the investment, yet he remained eerily composed.

So he really meant it when he said money was all he had? Was that kind of loss not even worth getting upset over?

"You want another beating?"

Mu-gyeong reached out and gently pressed down on Hongju’s lower lip.

"You don’t actually believe they’ll come back, do you? If you don’t catch them now, there’s no chance of collecting any of the debt."

Mu-gyeong swallowed a laugh. Coming from the one who’d been chained to the House for fifteen years under that very logic, it was rich. And yet, here he was—sincerely worried for him. Seeing that earnest face left Mu-gyeong parched. He twisted the cap off a water bottle.

"Crazy how you lived with trash like them and didn’t turn rotten yourself."

He strolled to the sofa and patted the seat beside him.

"How’d it feel hearing Gu Madam about to blow a fuse? You should’ve seen his face go bright red. Shame you missed that."

"That’s not what matters right now."

It felt like they were speaking past each other, each facing a different wall. Hongju licked his dry, cracked lips.

"Instead of worrying, come sit and listen to me. It’s long."

Hongju’s black eyes briefly met the back of Mu-gyeong’s hand tapping the sofa, then shifted back to his cool, composed face.

"You only curled up on the bed like that because you trust me now, right?"

"......"

A faint smile curved his lips. After standing awkwardly apart for so long, Hongju cautiously took a step forward.

"Still won’t say it outright, huh."

Mu-gyeong muttered to himself and drew in a long breath. As Hongju neared, the faint scent of disinfectant and shampoo mingled in the air.

Mu-gyeong watched as the sofa cushion dipped beside him, then handed over the water bottle.

"Drink."

Hongju stared at the bottle for a moment, then slowly reached out. His bandaged fingers grasped it tightly. After hesitating a second, he brought it to his lips.

Gulp. Mu-gyeong’s sharp gaze followed the motion of his throat. He licked his lips, suppressing the dryness in his own throat.

"I finished it. Now tell me."

The bottle was half-empty. Hongju, who once flinched like a feral cat and treated Mu-gyeong no differently than Guppping, had already come this far. It was a big step. Still, the way the water sloshed in the bottle reminded Mu-gyeong of the wariness left inside Hongju—and it left a bitter taste on his tongue.

"Why leave any behind?"

He clicked his tongue and snatched the half-full bottle, then tilted it back, draining the last of it. After wiping his mouth, he spoke again.

"Now tell me. What did you mean about screwing over Guppping? You’re about to lose all your money, and yet you’re so calm."

Mu-gyeong leaned far back against the couch. The room was so still that the creak of the leather felt deafening. Tilting his head slightly, he stared at Hongju’s thin, rigid posture and opened his mouth.

"I got word there was a House causing trouble."

"...Got word?"

"The surrounding areas had mostly settled, but this one House was demanding an absurdly high payout. The developers tried negotiating for years, but nothing worked. Everything just kept stalling."

Hongju’s eyes fixed on Mu-gyeong’s lips. It was a dogged gaze—like he couldn’t afford to miss a single word.

Without realizing it, Mu-gyeong let out a soft laugh. That was exactly the look Hongju had when they first met.

"I think it was spring. Late spring, when the heat started early."

And just like that, the story drifted back to the unusually hot spring of that year.