Chapter 17

“Alright, champ. Do you have a Huobi account?” Le Creuset had pulled out his smartphone and was accessing some sort of app.

“You guys really need to publish a dictionary for new guys like me,” I groaned. I really was over all these terms.

“It’s a P2P marketplace,” said the orange haired streamer, as though that explained it. My continuing blank look frustrated him. “You know, crypto?!”

Oh. I didn’t really understand cryptocurrency. Lots of places had an option to pay in crypto, but as far as I understood, it was some type of weird worldwide currency that didn’t have a defined value or backing (at least, one that I understood).

“So it was imaginary money the whole time.” I was honestly annoyed. Someone should have cleared this up from the start. I had legitimately risked my life in that race.

“Is the money in your bank imaginary?” snapped Le Creuset. “It’s real money, jag-off! Virtual money!”

“Can’t you just pay me in cash?” I was frustrated with the name-calling but he was still supposedly holding onto a pretty significant amount of my supposed money, and I wanted it.

“Sungmin!” he screeched. So it was fine to call each other our real names when the livestream was off. Han Sungmin made his way over. He came so obediently when called he should have been the one named Doggie.

“You brought him here, didn’t you, Sungmin?” Le Creuset scolded, jabbing a finger in my direction. “Where the hell did you find this byeongsin? The slums of Outer Seoul?!”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure he’s from there.” That shut Le Creuset up, and he glared at me. I glared back. Money or no, if this pipsqueak insulted me one more time, he’d be eating dirt for dinner.

“No way. No Outer Soul slummer can afford a racing car. Did you steal it?”

Despite my lack of answer, they came to the realization that I had.

“Holy shit,” breathed Le Creuset.

I didn’t deign to answer. These Inner Seoul kids probably had no idea the depth of my desperation.

“Ok, Baek Jaehyun-NOM. I don’t walk around with wads of cash on hand, so come to my place tomorrow.” He waved his hand dismissively and walked off.

I stepped forward, determined to give him a piece of my mind. Sungmin held me back. “Hey. Don’t bite the hand that feeds.”

The little orange midget had all these street gangs wrapped around his minuscule pinky. No wonder he walked and talked with such shameless bluster.

“He didn’t even tell me where to go,” I protested.

“I’ll take you.”

I looked at him suspiciously. What was his motivation for helping me?

“I want you to join the Blue Tigers,” he said. My suspicion only increased.

“Why should I?” I hadn’t needed to be part of a gang to race. I didn’t see the point.

“I’ve been looking for an aggressive driver like you for my time attack team,” he said. “And you obviously need money. Time attack relays are a big event around here. Big payouts.” He rubbed his fingers together, and to my own shame, he did get my interest.

“And we’ve also got other perks. You’re going to need new plates and a VIN number for that car you stole,” he said, pointing to my Eclipse. Despite only having had it a night, I had already begun to think of it as mine. But he was right. Legally no one else would recognise it as mine without those things.

“I doubt a jjorep like you knows where to get any of that. But I do,” he grinned. He could tell that he had already got me.

“And all you want me to do is race with you,” I said, somewhat doubtfully. It seemed that I was getting much more out of this than he.

“Maybe a few other little favours,” he added somewhat vaguely. Though his vagueness made me suspicious, I figured that if I wasn’t willing to do what he wanted me to do then, I’d find some way to turn him down at that time.

“Alright. I’ll join you. For now,” I added. If he tried to make me do anything I didn’t want to do, I’d leave, I thought to myself.

And just like that, I was in. “Hell yeah,” grinned Han Sungmin. “Alright, let’s get you introduced to everyone.”

The crowd had dispersed now back to their usual groups (and quite a few had actually left) after the race, and the rest of the Blue Tigers were gathered back around their cars.

Sungmin introduced them. Park Hoojin. Choi Eunsoo. Sato Ryusuke. I was a little surprised that one of them was actually Japanese. (He was the one who hadn’t rushed me.) I knew Lee Seol-hee already but not Sungmin’s girl. Her name was Lee Sunhee. Having the same last name wasn’t a guarantee that they were related but they looked similar, so I figured they were probably sisters. Seol-hee was definitely younger. Choi Eunsoo asked my age, and I was determined to be the youngest of all of them, even Seol-hee.

Park Hoojin was disgruntled. He probably still had my boot print on his ass. “You’re just going to let him in like that?” he grumbled.

“The guy can drive,” Sungmin said. “I mean, Sae Joohyuk is…” he made the so-so hand wave. “But hardly anyone wins their first race. And I’m pretty sure he hasn’t even tuned his car.”

Despite Sungmin’s assessment, Park Hoojin continued to glare at me. “You said your name was Baek…? Any relation to a certain Baek Taejun?”

I tried not to freeze up. How did everyone in all of Korea know who Taejun was?! I managed to keep myself expressionless. I didn’t know if I could convincingly feign confusion. “No,” I lied.

“Don’t mind him. His dad was booked by some fed called Baek Taejun. He’s still salty about it.” To my surprise, it was Choi Eunsoo coming to my defense.

“This guy just showed up out of nowhere! He could be a narc,” insisted Park Hoojin.

“Why would a fed investigate us? We’re small time rule breakers. Besides, when do feds steal a car and throw themselves into a race?” Sungmin asked in exasperation.

“That’s exactly what they did in The Fast and The Furious,” Hoojin snapped back. “He’s even driving the exact same car!” No I wasn’t. My Eclipse was black, not green.

“That’s a movie, you idiot!”

“And Brian didn’t steal his car, the feds gave it to him,” added Sato Ryusuke. Everyone ignored him.

Hoojin realized that no one else was on his side, and threw up his hands in defeat. “Whatever. Like I give a shit.” He clearly had, with how determinedly he had tried to argue.

Sungmin gave him one last withering look (again, nothing compared to Taejun’s). “I doubt anything else is going to happen tonight, so let’s go back to the garage.”

We returned to our cars to leave. To my surprise, Lee Seol-hee followed me to my car.

“Seol-hee! What are you doing?” Hoojin tapped the roof of his car. “Let’s go!”

“I’m going to ride with Jaehyun,” she said impishly. Seol-hee gave me a wink. My heart skipped a beat.

“Like hell you are,” Hoojin growled.

“He doesn’t know the way. What if he gets lost?” she cajoled. Before he could say anything more, she ducked into the passenger seat of my Civic. Park Hoojin glared at me. I shrugged. I wasn’t exactly comfortable with Lee Seol-hee riding with me either. She’d been far more touchy feely than any girl I’d ever known, and I didn’t know how to deal with a girl like her (or any girl, really).

As we pulled onto the road, I asked, “Is Park Hoojin-sunbae your boyfriend?” It didn’t seem likely, with how promiscuous she was, but I kind of hoped he was, so I could set some sort of boundaries.

“Nope,” Seol-hee replied cheerily. “He wishes~” She laughed. I really did like her laugh. Some girls had a really high pitched laugh that sounded like they were making fun of you, or else pretending to laugh. Hers was low and breathy. It sounded genuine and happy.

“I don’t like being in relationships,” she said, with a secretive little smile. No, she definitely was not the monogamous type.

I could feel her eyes on me as I shifted gear to keep up with Sungmin on the road ahead of me. I prickled with a different kind of heat than I did when my brother fixed me with his fierce stare. I could tell Seol-hee was definitely the kind of girl to get a guy in trouble, and I decided it was probably best to try to keep my distance from her.

She clearly didn’t have that same mentality. Seol-hee leaned over the center console. I leaned away slightly so she wasn’t talking directly into my ear. “Are you really from the Outer Seoul slums?” she asked, her voice dropping tantalizingly low.

“Not anymore.” I tried to focus on the road.

“Not working for Do Hoon-ssi anymore?”

Though I had never actually quit, I was driving a car I had stolen from him, and hadn’t been to work in a few days. I guess I had to admit I was probably never going back to work for him. “Nah.”

“You working in Inner Seoul then? Where you staying?” Her questions just kept coming.

I didn’t have any answer for either and let her come up with her own little ideas. But she probably guessed something similar to my situation, because after a few moments, she laughed again. “No wonder you were so desperate to race. You need the money bad, huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” I spoke aloud before I could stop myself.

“Try me, street rat.” I didn’t give her any answer to that. After a few moments, she reached over to turn on the radio. She flicked through until she found a pop station, then cranked it loud. I winced. But at least she probably wasn’t going to try to talk anymore.

I was wrong. She kept asking random questions, or offering tidbits about herself, half-yelling to be heard over the radio. Reluctantly, I answered what questions I was comfortable to, and commented politely when she looked at me like she expected a reply. Every time I reached to turn down the radio so we could talk properly, she would smack my hand away.

Eventually on the long drive back, I asked her a few questions of my own. I found out she was somehow living on her own in Inner Seoul. How did she afford it? I asked her if she raced as well.

“I did for a while, then I totally totalled my baby,” she giggled. “I’m still deciding if I want to fix him up.”

“So what are you doing now?” Rent in Inner Seoul was very expensive.

“TopFan,” she said, with a weirdly proud tone.

I glanced at her. I had no idea what that was.

“Hehe. Here, I’ll show you.” She pulled up an app on her phone, then leaned over to show me her phone screen. I looked over.

My car jerked forward as I jumped and stomped the throttle. Seol-hee laughed at my reaction. I returned my gaze to the road, face burning. The app was full of pictures. Naked pictures. Of Seol-hee.

“I have over a million Nuts,” she said, proudly. I didn’t even want to begin to know what those were. I refused to look away from the road for the rest of the drive back. Sungmin, who had arrived just ahead of us, waved me to park in the multi car garage.

Before we left the car she stopped me. “Wait. Let me get your number.” She held out her phone to me. I moved away, remembering the lewd contents within it.

“Uh, I don’t have a cellphone,” I said. I made a hasty retreat out of the car.

“For real?” She followed me out.

I ignored her and made my way over to Sungmin. Unfortunately, Park Hoojin was here, but Choi Eunsoo and Sato Ryusuke were nowhere to be seen. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Eunsoo and Ryusuke keep their cars in their own garage,” he answered. “Even though we have room. You want to keep your car here?”

“Sure,” I answered. It was a pretty good situation for me. I didn’t have anywhere else to keep it. But I had been planning on sleeping in my car, and I don’t know if Sungmin would be willing to let me sleep in the club garage.

I hung around as the rest of them chatted a little more. Everyone was clearly good friends with each other and I definitely felt like an outsider to their circle. I decided to excuse myself.

“Wait,” said Sungmin. “Gimme your number so I can text you when we’re going to LC’s house.”

“He doesn’t have one,” Lee Seol-hee answered before I could. She said it like it was a scandalous thing. The rest of the group looked as scandalized as she sounded.

“Did you just crawl out of a well or something?” said Park Hoojin incredulously.

“Yeah, well, the first thing you need to do is get one. How are we supposed to keep in contact with you, by pigeon?!” I wondered if Sungmin was regretting his decision to take me on, considering how I seemed to be entirely clueless.

I remembered how Taejun had tracked me with my phone earlier. “I’d really prefer not to,” I said hesitantly.

“You hiding from the feds or something?” Sungmin laughed.

He had no idea how right he was.

Hoojin was fixing me with a suspicious glare again. “You guys sure this guy isn’t a narc!?”

As I was leaving, Lee Seol-hee stopped me and asked to walk her home. It was a bit surprising to me because she didn’t seem the type to be nervous alone. Though perhaps the streets of Inner Seoul were more dangerous for a girl (especially one dressed as skimpily as her). As we walked, she chattered away like we were old friends. I somehow managed to respond enough to her to fool her into thinking we were conversing despite being lost in my thoughts.

I couldn’t stop thinking about how she had just kissed me out of the blue. I didn’t think I’d be so affected by my first kiss, but it was hard to get thoughts of Seol-hee out of my mind. Her name was even the same as the actress I had always thought was beautiful. They had a bit of the same sort of elegant, delicately featured face. Lee Seol-hee had an even better figure though, in my opinion. Actress Kim Seol-hee was extremely thin, as was the fashion for movie stars. Lee Seol-hee on the other hand … it was no wonder she was so popular on TopFan. She had a dreamy hourglass figure, with–

“We’re here,” she said. My mental Seol-hees, Lee and Kim, scattered like frightened birds as Lee Seol-hee’s voice brought me back to reality. Flustered, I looked up at where we had stopped.

Like Taejun, she lived in a high rise apartment, but hers was nicer than even his. At least from the outside. I had no idea what the actual apartments within looked like, but if the lobby was any indication, it must be really nice. Even this late at night, it was brightly lit with warm light reflecting off a dozen crystal and gold surfaces.

“Nice place,” I couldn’t help saying. She must be making an absolute fortune on that app.

Lee Seol-hee laughed lightly. “You think so? Want to come up for some ramyun?”

I gave her a weird look. “It’s 2AM,” I said. Even if she didn’t have dinner, at this point you’d just go to sleep and eat in the morning. I bid her goodbye and walked off as though I had a destination in mind.

Despite my lawn sprinkler “shower” yesterday, I desperately wanted a bath. I remembered seeing showers at the subway station that I had hand dryer-ed my clothes at, so I decided to see if that was the case at other subway stations. There was a fairly large one near Seol-hee’s apartments, and fortunately for me they did. They even had soap dispensers.

I was so eager to have a bath that I forgot the need for a towel until I turned the water off. For some moments I just shivered and cursed my idiocy. I looked around for a solution. Fortunately no one else was around at this time. I sighed and headed for the hand dryer.

—--

Han Sungmin had told me to show up at the garage around noon, but I didn’t have much else to do during the day other than worry about both my car and my supposed not-imaginary money both being in someone else’s hands. So when Han Sungmin showed up (well past noon), I had already been at the garage for some time already.

“I thought I gave you the access code,” he said, surprised to see me just standing there waiting irritably in the alley.

He definitely hadn’t. I told him so.

“Well, it’s this,” he said. He showed me. “You might as well know it, since your car is in there. But if you mess with anyone else’s car…” Sungmin tried a threatening tone. It had about as much effect on me as a puppy’s growl.

“I don’t have any reason to,” I responded.

“Hoojin’s car is in there. You cool with him?” Han Sungmin asked.

Though Hoojin had been antagonistic with me, I honestly thought his reaction to me was the most reasonable out of all of them. I shrugged. “It’s normal to be suspicious of some stranger showing up so suddenly like I did.”

Han Sungmin gave me a strange look. “Maybe you are a narc. But if you were, they must not be paying you well. You look like you sleep on the streets.”

I felt amused by his comment. I really had been for the last two nights. But I hadn’t really slept well the night before. Despite thinking of Seol-hee(s) while falling asleep, I had nightmares last night. Jungho had my mother in a chokehold. Later in the dream, I had seen blood and fire again.

“Maybe after we go to Le Creseut’s house to get my money I can stop doing that then,” I said. I really had developed a sarcastic streak around these racers. There was something strangely naive about them that made me constantly feel underwhelmed with them.

Sungmin looked at me, trying again to decide if I was joking or not. He gave up and shook his head. “LC hasn’t responded to my text yet. I think he might be sleeping still. Let’s go up.”

Up where now? It turned out there was an entire club-house a level above the garage. It had probably originally been a studio apartment, but it had been converted into what was clearly a hangout designed by young people. Instead of a bed, there was a giant 3 piece sofa set circling an enormous wall mounted TV. Instead of a dining table, there was a massive pool table (what a waste of space!). Instead of a kitchen… well the kitchen was still there, but it had mostly been converted into what looked like a huge wet bar. I doubted I’d find anything other than snacks and alcohol in that fridge and pantry.

“Whose place is this?” I asked incredulously. Three people could have comfortably lived in this space.

“Used to be my dad’s but he let me have it. He kicked out the last tenant when he couldn’t pay up. It’s our hangout now.” Sungmin proudly gestured at a giant mural of a fierce blue tiger, done in a similar style to the one on his own car.

“You don’t live here?” I was absolutely blown away by the waste of a place like this just sitting empty (other than when a few rich young Inner Seoulites wanted to… play pool?). It seemed that the Blue Tigers were incredibly wealthy. I felt out of my depth. The furnishings and property value of this place was probably more than the sum total of all the money I or my parents had ever earned in our lifetimes, added to the debt as well.

“Nah, Sunhee and I live at my own place. Sunhee went to go get Seol-hee. They should be here soon though.” Sungmin went to the fridge, which sure enough, was filled with alcohol. “Want one?”

He tossed a beer can at me despite me not even replying yet. I set it down on the (kitchen? bar?) counter. If I opened it now, it would just explode all over me. “What is your age?”

Han Sungmin gave me a weird face as he opened his can. “Don’t speak so politely, it’s lame,” he said. “I’m 23.” He flopped onto the couch and pulled out his phone.

I grabbed my drink and followed him over. There was plenty of room on the couch set, so I sat away from him. He was five years older than me yet seemed so immature. Taejun, on the other hand, was six years older, and felt like an overbearing father. How could there be such a difference with just one year? The answer was probably money. Having too much money at a young age must have kept these people carefree and immature.

“Where do you get all your money?” I asked, genuinely curious. I didn’t even care if I looked pathetically nosy asking it.

Before he could answer, there was a bit of a commotion. The Lee sisters had arrived, and seemed like they had had an argument on the way here. Seol-hee huffed up the stairs and turned to snap a particular insult that I don’t need to repeat at her older sister. She caught sight of me and glared at me for staring. She stormed over to the fridge.

Lee Sunhee settled into her usual place against Han Sungmin. She whined unhappily to him (I couldn’t hear what she was saying), and Sungmin rubbed her back comfortingly.

Seol-hee returned with a pink can that was probably some sort of soju soda.

“What happened?” I asked. Instead of responding she huffed at me and sat down on the couch as far away from us as possible. I felt a little discouraged by her sulking. I thought we had been getting onto pretty friendly terms.

“Keep your nose out of it,” snapped Lee Sunhee at me.

I wasn’t that curious anyways. I figured my drink had had enough time to settle, so I decided to crack it open. It maliciously exploded all over me anyways, soaking my jeans and (shit!!) the couch below. I jumped up in a panic. “I’m sorry,” I sputtered, fully expecting another couch lecture.

Everyone else was just laughing at my plight. The tense mood from before dissolved as they reunified in enjoyed my remorse over ruining the couch.

Sungmin was particularly pleased. “Yeah! Twenty-five!” he howled with laughter.

“You are such an ass,” Sunhee laughed, smacking him playfully.

I found a towel at the wet bar and dabbed at the spilled beer. Luckily the suede cover of the sofa had resisted it a bit. My face was burning with embarrassment. “I’m sorry about the couch.”

As Sungmin was overcome with another fit of laughter, Sunhee said, “Don’t even worry about it. He does this to everyone.”

“This couch probably costs more than me,” I said morosely, repeating a line Taejun had thrown at me over his couch (that didn’t belong to him).

“Heol! Stop, you’re just encouraging him,” Sunhee begged between laughs. She didn’t have the same warm and light hearted laugh as her sister. Hers was much more abrasively feminine.

I looked at Seolhee, but having finished laughing, she was pointedly playing with her phone.

Some time later Park Hoojin and Sato Ryusuke showed up as well. It seemed that they all must not work on Sundays. When Hoojin had arrived he looked pleased that Lee Seol-hee was so far apart from me. He settled down next to Seol-hee, but she really must have been in a bad mood, because she swatted him away when he tried to put his arm around her. Thus evicted, he spent the rest of the time glaring at me throughout the conversations (which was mostly an interrogation of my past). I only spoke as much as I thought I needed to to stay on their good side. I didn’t mention the debt. I think they settled on the idea of me being a runaway, which was close enough to the truth.

It was a pretty awkward wait (at least for me) until at last Han Sungmin said that Le Creuset had replied. “Alright, Jaehyun, let’s gooo!”

I was relieved to get moving. “Are we taking your car or mine?” I asked, as we walked down the stairs to the garage.

Sungmin snorted. “Both.”

“Why?!” Why bother when we were going to the same place? It was just a waste of gas, and we’d have to fight each other over parking if it was limited.

“Because we’re car guys,” he winked at me as he stepped into his WRX.

It seemed that everyone I was meeting in Inner Seoul was just progressively getting richer. Le Creuset lived in a penthouse apartment, nearly 60 floors up. Maybe I had the wrong tactic here. Maybe I should just mug one of these guys. Le Creuset, small and scrawny, would be an excellent target.

I tried to not look too awestruck as Le Creuset let us in. The entire place was decorated like a gamer’s nest, with tech everywhere. Everything was a smart device, and neon lights cast the open concept living space in various shades of magenta to blue. I was a little petrified. His couch set was even more massive than the one at the Blue Tigers’ place, and looked like a sculpture piece with its abstract angles and shapes. It’s surface gleamed at me threateningly as if to warn me not to approach. The couch being worth more than me was no longer an exaggeration.

Le Creuset huffed at us. “I thought you weren’t with the Blue Tigers,” he grouched at me, giving Hang Sungmin a pointed look.

“I picked him up,” Sungmin grinned.

“This byeongsin? You’re kidding.” Le Creuset tried to glare at me, but instantly withered at the look I gave him. Money or not, if this dwarf insulted me one more time, I’d throw him out the window of his own home. “Wait here. Don’t let him touch anything,” he snarked.

As if he or Sungmin would could stop me if I wanted to. He disappeared into a room and reappeared a moment later with a misshapen folder. “Ugh! Paper money! I feel like an old-timey gangster,” he whined as he gave it to me. “Sungmin, PLEASE help this bumpkin get set up with Huobi.”

There were big bundles inside (and one that was significantly smaller). I took one out. Despite Le Creuset’s initial disgust, both he and Sungmin were looking on in interest at the physical paper money.

“You going to count it too? Let me save you the trouble.” He snatched the bag back before I could stop him. “One, two, three, four, five, and six,” he said, pointing to the bundle I was still holding as he counted six. “And the little one is one hundred eighty seven thousand, five hundred.”

“Six… million?” I said, weakly, as Le Creuset gave me my folder back. One night, and I had made almost the same amount as I had had in my savings (before my bastard brother locked my account). It’s the amount Dad needs at the hospital, the thought came unbidden.

“I thought the pot was twenty-seven and half,” Sungmin was saying. “That seems low.” Math had never been my strong suit. I felt grateful toward Sungmin for catching out the little rat.

“I had to up returns on his bet to 40%, to get people to balance the pot,” explained Le Creuset. “I didn’t think he would actually win, alright? I lost out too!”

“How much did you take?” I asked suspiciously.

“I take 25% of the remaining pot after winners’ payouts.” Le Creuset must have sensed my ire towards him because he backed up a step. “That’s more than fair, considering how much bigger I make the pot.”

“He’s not complaining,” Sungmin said testily, fixing me with a look intended to keep me in line.

I decided not to push the issue for now. It was true that Le Creuset should be compensated for his efforts. But looking around at our current surroundings… maybe we were paying him a bit too much.

Le Creuset changed the subject. “Have you thought up a name, yet, new guy?”

“No.” And I never would. It was dumb.

“I broadcast to at least fifteen thousand people a night. Maybe double that if there’s a race,” Le Creuset insisted. “You want them all to know your name and face? What if one of them reports you out of spite?”

He had a point. He had a huge following. I definitely didn’t want to be broadcasting my whereabouts to that many people. In fact, next time I’d hide my face, too. But I didn’t want a dumb nickname. I thought about the ones I knew, looking for inspiration. Black Doggie. King Something… Chanel Cat. Both Sungmin and Seol-hee’s aliases had been English.

“Maybe my iomaja initials?” I tried.

Sungmin laughed. It took Le Creuset a moment to remember my name, then he joined in. “You want to be called {BJ}?” he sputtered.

I didn’t see the issue.

“You really are a mossol,” Sungmin snerked. “That’s English for ibdo.” My face went hot.

“I don’t know English slang!” I protested.

“Maybe we just do {J} then? Boring but at least it’s a start,” Sungmin suggested. I didn’t really like that suggestion. {J} sounded similar to Jae, which my family often called me. It hit a little too close to home.

“I’ve got it,” Le Creuset said. He waved his hands like he was doing a sales pitch. “We’ll call him {Jester J}. Most of your Tigers have English names so he’ll fit right in.”

“That’s got a nice ring to it,” said Sungmin thoughtfully.

“What does {Jester} mean?” I asked.

Le Creuset grinned at me. “Clown.”

“Next time, please don’t assault LC,” Sungmin griped on the elevator down.

“I only shook him by the collar a little,” I grumbled.