Chapter 37

The week flew by, even without things for me to do, waiting for my concussion to subside. I lost my nerve to deal with Han Jungho, but he never came calling, so I figured I would check in later. I didn’t feel like reconcussing myself so soon. I’d only intended to stay a couple of days at Taejun’s while my head recovered, but I’d basically moved back in. Taejun seemed pleased that I had done so (maybe because now he could come home to a dinner waiting for him). I was finding it tolerable to be around Taejun again, especially since most of the evening he still holed himself in his office.

I still felt uncomfortable being anywhere around that office. Whenever the door to it was open, I felt painfully aware of that computer, and what I knew was on it. It emanated almost physical waves of malice at me. When I went to shut the door, my skin crawled.

That Friday, I was disinterestedly having a lunch of instant noodles while watching some inane television show when my phone buzzed. I picked it up, hoping it was Seolhee. She and I had been texting on and off during the week.

It wasn’t Seolhee. To my surprise, it was Sungmin.

[ Jaehyun. Hate to ask you this, but could help me pick up something from Outer Seoul? I’m stuck in Daegu for the day and the pick up is time sensitive ]

I remember him mentioning he had family in Daegu. He was probably out there visiting them. I texted back.

[ not a problem ]

[ just send me the address ]

Sungmin sent it over. He followed up with a:

[ thanks, Jae. I appreciate it. Just leave it at the garage when you’ve gotten it ]

It was pretty far out, in Old Ansan. Ansan used to be considered its own city, but as Seoul expanded, it had absorbed Ansan. The ex-cities in Outer Seoul were always strange, tumultuous places. Pockets of upper class citizens clinging to their old city feuded with what they considered to be the intruding lower classes of Outer Seoul. Even I felt a little uncomfortable in the ex-cities.

I decided I’d drive rather than try public transport. My head was feeling fine.

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I shouldn’t have taken my car.

The address Sungmin had sent me was near one of their port dock warehouses. I’d long passed the little bubble of upper and middle class residentials, and the further out I went, the more and more sketchy my surroundings became. As I drove down the streets, heads kept turning and following my Z.

At a stoplight, a pair of lean, hungry eyed teens loitering outside a convenience mart stared openly at me. Their ragged clothes were dotted with old, unyielding stains and pinprick holes. I had no doubt that if I exited the car now and walked by them I’d find myself less a phone and (had I had one) a wallet. I had been one of those kids once. It’s what I would have done.

This is the life I’d come from. I might have paid off the debt finally, but that didn’t change much else for me. The only difference between me and those teens were a handful of years and a Nissan Z I’d taken from Comet.

The thought sat uncomfortably with me. Unwilling to wait for the stoplight at an empty intersection, I just ran the red light. There were no traffic cams here.

My unease only worsened as I pulled up to the address Sungmin had given me. This can’t be right, I thought. The warehouse looked abandoned. Surely no deliveries were coming here.

Someone must have heard me drive up. The door opened. A man stepped out, then hesitated when he saw me. “You’re not Han Sungmin,” he said.

The man was wearing a suit with a flashy, silky shirt underneath. Snakelike tattoos slithered up his forearms and disappeared under his rolled up sleeves. A gold chain dangled at his neck.

My blood turned to ice.

There was no doubt about it. This man was a gangster.

He stepped forward menacingly. “What are you doing here? You looking to get your neck snapped?” the gangster threatened.

A screeching voice. How does he fucking not know?!

Eunsoo’s idiotic question-sentence echoed in my mind. Uh, Hoojin and Sungmin are drug dealers?

Sungmin’s text. Hate to ask you this…

The delivery Sungmin had sent me to pick up was undoubtedly a shipment of drugs.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

As these horrified thoughts whirled through my head, the gangster in front of me had grown impatient with my silence. He stepped up to me and seized my collar. (What was it about gangsters and grabbing me by my neck?! This was the third or fourth time now.)

He shook me. “Did you hear me, you byeong-shin? You have some sort of death wish?”

If he was intending to scare me by shaking me, it had the opposite effect. I’d already faced down Han Juhngho far too many times. I was tired of being shaken around by gangsters. I grabbed his hand to make him stop. “Sungmin sent me,” I snapped.

His eyes narrowed at my tone but my lack of fear must have given him pause.

“Oi, jackass, let go of him. Sungmin said he was sending someone today.” Another second man appeared in the doorway. He was smaller than the first, and I didn’t see any tattoos on him. But he glittered with an array of chains and earrings. As he raised his hand to pull a drag off a cigarette, I saw his fingers were also covered in gaudy gold and silver rings.

He exhaled a puff of smoke and flicked some ash off it. “Are you JJ?”

So Sungmin had at least the presence of mind to not give them my full, real name. The double J must have come from the racer name I hated. “That’s me,” I growled, pulling free from the goon’s grasp.

The man pulled out his phone and checked it. “You match the description Sungy sent. Go get the package,” the second man said to the first. The burlier guy gave me one last glare and dipped back into the warehouse.

The blinged out man stared at me. I stared sullenly back. “You look roughed up,” he laughed at me. The bruise on my forehead was fading but my eye was still ringed with a smear of purple. “Sungmin got you working somewhere tough?”

I didn’t answer. He chuckled. Apparently a dead eyed look was an acceptable answer to him.

“You Sungmin’s new guy?” he asked.

The thought horrified me. “No,” I said with a scowl. “I’m just doing him a favor.”

The gangster sucked on his cigarette. He didn’t like that answer. “Just a favor?” He flicked his cigarette off into the distance despite it being only half finished. “Doubt it.”

I didn’t respond. The first man returned with a pretty hefty package wrapped in tape and dull black plastic.

He handed it to me. I took it gingerly. I had no idea what exactly was inside, but I knew none of it could be legal. I opened my car door and chucked it under the passenger seat. I just wanted to get out of here.

“Be seeing you,” the man with the jewelry said. He waved at me and withdrew.

I wasn’t going to be seeing them ever again.

I had a few choice things I wanted to say to Sungmin.

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From our texts, I knew Sungmin wouldn’t be getting home in time to go to the meet. But I didn’t know when he was going to be getting back, so I decided I wouldn’t go either. I wanted to confront him.

I let Ryusuke know I wasn’t be going to the meet tonight. He texted me back.

[ kkk thats unusual ]

[ hanging with your brother? ]

[ yeah ] (a lie, but a small, harmless one)

you haven’t been around all week either ]

[ you’re all out of debt and now you no longer want to be friends with us eh ]

He knew I’d been spending the last few days with my brother instead at the Tiger’s hangout. I hadn’t told him that it was because I’d just about had my head smashed in. After disappearing the whole week, now I was telling Ryusuke I didn’t want to go to the meet. It really did look like I was leaving them all behind now that my affairs were sorted. I chuckled.

[ its not that ]

[ i’ll be around tomorrow ]

[ haha ]

[ alright. Sungmin’s not going either so i guess Eunsoo and I’ll just stay home too ]

[ or more likely he’ll drag me out to a bar ]

[ come find us after if youre up for it ]

[ sure ]

I doubted I’d be up for anything after I confronted Sungmin. I stared at the black package I’d put on the coffee table. It stared back at me.

I’d promised Taejun I’d stay away from drug related activities. And yet here I was. The package was hefty. Whatever was inside was probably enough to send me to prison for several decades if I was caught with it.

I nudged it further away from me with my foot.

It was late by the time Sungmin returned. I’d almost thought he’d have gone home to sleep and just come back to pick it up in the morning. Then again, leaving a stash laying around like this wasn’t in any drug dealer’s best interests. He seemed surprised to see me.

“Jae,” he said, uncertainly. “You didn’t go to the meet?”

“No,” I said. The tone of my voice put Sungmin even more on edge.

“Don’t look at me like that, Jae,” he grumbled. Sungmin eyed the package on the coffee table. To get to it, he’d have to get through me first.

The nerve of this guy sent me into an instant rage. “You fucking sent me on a god damn drug run, Sungmin!” I snapped. I advanced towards him. “You didn’t even give me a damn heads up, either. Those guys were fucking gangsters!”

Sungmin’s eyes narrowed. Like me, Sungmin tended to become more aggressive the more he was pushed. “You’re from Outer Seoul. And you’ve dealt with gangsters before.”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?!” I snarled. I was paying off a debt, not helping them sell drugs?

“I figured you could handle yourself,” he retorted. “More so than Eunsoo or Ry–”

“The fact that you considered sending any of us at all is ridiculous,” I said. My voice was quickly rising along with my anger. “Are you actually insane, Sungmin? Or did you just forget my brother works for the fucking NIS?”

“I’m well aware of that,” Sungmin growled. “Normally I would have just sent Hoojin. Remember that guy? Oh yeah, wasn’t it your narc brother that packed him off to prison?!”

“So this is how you’re planning on getting back? By implicating me?!” I was shouting now.

“I never asked you to sell it,” he snapped. “Just to pick it up and bring it here.”

“You’re an idiot. Ferrying drugs is illegal too! I should have thrown the damn thing away the moment I got it!”

Sungmin’s eyes flashed with anger. “That would have worked out real well for you when it’s inevitably discovered,” he laughed at me. “Not even your brother would be able to get you out of that one.”

It was true. Taejun had said so himself. As tempting as the idea of turning Sungmin over to Taejun once and for all, I had no idea what punishment I’d receive for my own involvement, however slight. Drug laws in Korea were incredibly punishing.

We glared at each other, bristling. I was fighting the urge to punch him out. I had a few too many fights lately.

“Don’t ever ask me to do something like this ever again,” I seethed.

“Fine. I won’t. Just let me have the package, and we’ll never speak of this again,” Sungmin said hotly. “I’ll give you some money for your troubles.”

“You can take your money and shove it,” I said. “I don’t want anything to do with it.” I stepped aside. The sooner Sungmin took it away, the better. I even wished him luck selling it all so his misguided clients could consume all evidence of my involvement.

“Suit yourself,” Sungmin retorted. He scooped up the black package and tucked it under his arm.

I watched him. Maybe it was better to just cut ties completely with the Blue Tigers. I had to know one other thing. “Eunsoo said you and Hoojin weren’t gangsters. But those gangsters at the warehouse were very familiar with you.” One of them had called him some shit name, ‘Sungy’. “Tell me straight. Are you in a gang or not?”

Sungmin stared hard at me.

“You owe me that much,” I said.

“Yes,” said Sungmin finally.

My pulse was racing. I stared at him. Sungmin’s name. He was Han Sungmin. Han Sungmin. I could feel myself shaking. Hesitantly I asked, “Do you know someone called Han Jungho?”

Sungmin looked at me in suspicion. “How do you know that name?” he demanded.

“Answer me!” I shouted. I clenched my hands into fists.

The sudden return of my anger startled him. Sungmin exhaled. He answered:

“Han Jungho is my father.”