The knowledge of Gifteds made the investigation more complicated. There could be any number of Gifts that could meddle with their work. The man could have a partner with a Gift that changed his appearance, or perhaps masked his presence altogether. His own Gift could be contact-based, which would mean the King must’ve bumped into him at some point. Alternatively, it could be spread through the air, or behave like a wish being granted. There were too many possibilities and not enough evidence to disprove any of them. If Min-jun had been the one to catch the illness instead, the King would likely know how to go about curing him, what with all the research he’d done on Gifteds. But Mother had been bent on keeping Min-jun far from the world of Gifteds, and now he was woefully ill-prepared to go about catching one of them.
“You look like shit,” Si-yeol said, popping a dried jujube into his mouth.
Min-jun sat down across from him, crossing his legs. They were out in the open air, in front of Sa’s restaurant. “Good morning to you as well, Si-yeol.”
Dae-yeong fixed Si-yeol with a glare befitting a disappointed parent. “Don’t be rude, Shin-nim.”
“Min-jun’s got a thick skin, I can bully him all I want,” Si-yeol said, stealing a pickled cucumber from Dae-yeong’s dish. “It was getting boring around here. I had no one to target.”
No one else could take his nonsense. Eok-gi chastised Si-yeol whenever he tried to pierce his armor, and Dae-yeong was so sensitive that piercing his armor was no challenge at all. Min-jun, on the other hand, had gotten used to the most creative of degrading comments from his time in the brothel, and Si-yeol’s little jabs were rudimentary in comparison. That didn’t make him any less annoying, and Si-yeol likely got off on Min-jun’s irritated expressions.
“Did you not sleep well last night, hyung-nim?” Dae-yeong asked. One of the servers set down an empty plate in front of him, and Min-jun helped himself to the breakfast spread despite his lack of an appetite.
“I had some issues to attend to,” Min-jun said.
Sa came up to them, wiping her hands on her apron, looking stunning in her plain reddish-brown hanbok. Her hair was in an intricate bun today, her cheeks tinted pink from the wind. “You didn’t bring your friend today, Jun-ah?”
“He’s feeling a bit indisposed at the moment,” Min-jun said. He poked at his food, much to Sa’s disapproval. She leaned over, took his hand, and forced the food into his mouth.
“Don’t play around with it,” Sa scolded. “It makes us look bad.”
Min-jun swallowed the abalone, and it went down slightly sour and salty. “Sorry, noona.”
Sa placed her hands on her hips, her weight shifting onto her left leg. “He’s feeling indisposed, you say? Poor thing. He was so lively that evening as well.” She snapped her fingers. “I’ll get him some of our world-famous cold medicine. That’ll heal him up!”
“I didn’t even tell you what he was sick with!” Min-jun said. It was too late, the woman had vanished back inside, not caring for any of Min-jun’s ‘excuses’. He shook his head, turning back to Dae-yeong. “Find anything else?”
He shook his head. “No one matching your description, Hyung-nim.”
Perhaps they had already fled, not caring for the theatricality of it all?
Min-jun shoved a piece of baechu kimchi into his mouth, letting it burn his tongue. His appetite was non-existent, and even the spiciest of dishes couldn’t seem to inspire any gluttony in him. He placed his chopsticks down against the table, hearing them clank against the wood. The other members of his party looked at him, not particularly surprised. He had a tendency to become temperamental when cases didn’t go his way.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
“I’m going to step away for a bit.”
“No drinking,” Hyun-woo said, his voice carrying a light warning in it.
“I’m just heading out for a walk.” He wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Perhaps, if he thought about it enough, the case would unravel itself.
So think, he urged himself. Retrace your steps. There was no point when it came to Gifteds though. Too many variables.
Then, get inside their mind.
The killer knew they’d targeted the King, given that no one else had gotten ill with Time’s Plague since it was exterminated seven years ago. How had they known their exact location, when only the King’s closest advisors had been privy to it? Had the advisors betrayed them? Impossible, thought Min-jun, with too much conviction for his liking.
It could be another Gifted, of course, one that had a knack for tracking people.
Min-jun chewed on his thumbnail, as each suggestion his mind conjured up only threw him into further confusion.
“Mister,” a voice called, a hand pulling at the hem of his durumagi. “Hey, mister.” It was a child. A small lowborn boy with large, bulging grey eyes and greasy, braided black hair. Min-jun whipped his head around, taking in his surroundings. He’d walked right into the other side of the city. Walls of tightly packed stores and bars stood to his right and left.
“Yes?” Min-jun asked.
The boy offered him a piece of paper that was far too expensive for a lowborn to carry. “Another Mister asked me to give you this. I don’t know what it says, so don’t shoot the messenger, eh? He’s not even paying me enough for that.”
“Ah,” Min-jun said, taking the piece of paper. Upon opening it, only a set of numbers were revealed. A cipher. Finally, a clue. This confirmed that the suspect was still here and that he had some vested interest in his game of chase. “Thank you. Do you remember what the man looked like?”
The boy frowned, humming, as he looked down at the ground, hands on his hips. “Well, you see, Mister, that’s confidential stuff.”
“I can pay you double.”
He needn’t say more.
“Happy to be of service, Mister!” the boy said. He pointed to the shops behind them. “I met him at the bar downtown.
“And what exactly was a little kid like you doing in a bar?”
“Drunks never watch their wallets,” said the boy, raising his chin proudly. “Especially the daytime drunks. I’m doing them a favor. They can’t drink if they have no money.”
“Right,” Min-jun drawled. So, this was the little thief all the drunkards were always complaining about? The boy has been running a lucrative business. Min-jun hadn’t expected someone so young.
The boy’s stomach growled. He tried covering it with his arms, his grin turning sheepish. And just like that, Min-jun’s paternal instincts kicked in.
“Haven’t eaten anything today, have you?” Min-jun asked the boy. “Come along, we can talk over lunch.”
“Really?” the boy asked, cheerful once more. “Thanks, Mister!”
Soon, they were both seated at a nearby restaurant that boasted the ‘best jjigae in Saro’. The owners kept the restaurant tidy and welcoming, with long, wooden tables designed for large parties. Min-jun chose a spot in a quiet corner near the back of the store. The boy bought three bowls of the rumored jjigae and scarfed two of them down in a matter of minutes.
“Slow down,” Min-jun chided. “You’re going to give yourself a stomach ache if you eat too fast.”
The boy gulped down what he had in his mouth and placed the bowl down on the table, embarrassed by his obvious display of hunger. He wiped his chin on his sleeve and sat a little straighter, bowing once in respect. “My name is Kang Hye. It’s nice to meet you, Mister.”
“Hae Min-jun,” he offered, shaking the boy’s grubby hand. Min-jun should’ve made him wash his hands beforehand. The boy was covered in dirt, though Min-jun supposed young children had a knack for getting dirty. “So, the man who gave you this.” Min-jun lifted the letter. “What did he look like?”
Kang Hye pouted, squinting as he passed through his memories. “He didn’t look rich or poor, very middle class. His hair was very shiny, and his skin was glowing.” Kang Hye jiggled his fingers in front of his face to emphasize that fact. “Well, not really glowing, I think it was just healthy. Hmm, what else? Oh, he was super tall. Like, this tall . . .” He stood up and jumped a bit, arms in the air. “He had a weird voice, like he had to sing every word. And he wore a pink hanbok, bright pink. I don’t think it looked good on him.” Min-jun couldn’t find any indication that the boy was lying, so he took his words as truthful.
Shiny hair, glowing skin, a sing-songy voice, and brightly-colored hanbok? No, it couldn’t be. Song had gone overseas to do business for Mother (and something about his cosmetics brand, Min-jun had only been half-listening to his ramblings at the time). In any case, Song never let himself be rushed, not even by Mother. They shared a strange relationship, those two.
Besides, Song might be insane, but he wasn’t a murdering sociopath. He spent most of his days inventing new cosmetic formulas for the brothels. Rouge, flakes of gold, gemstones, and the most vibrant of pigments, those were the subject of Song’s preoccupation. If it was Song, perhaps Mother needed to tell him something. But then, that meant they’d be no closer to the owner of the Time’s Plague. In either case, he needed to solve the cipher.
“Did he say anything to you, other than to give me the letter?” Min-jun asked.
Kang Hye had busied himself with slurping up the last drops of his stew, tipping the bowl so far that the top of it nearly touched his wide forehead. “Hmm, he said something about archers and weavers? He was really weird, now that I think about it. What do you think he wants from you, Mister?”
“I think he wants me to find him,” Min-jun said. He spread the cipher out on the table, eyes scanning those nonsensical numbers. The suspect’s words to Kang Hye were undoubtedly linked to the cipher. Archers and weavers? He’d have to meet up with the others.
Min-jun stood up, leaving a few coins on the table as payment for the food. As he left the restaurant, Kang Hye stuck by him like a burr to fur.
“Do you need something?”
“I want money. 50000 mun, if you please.”
Min-jun reached into his sleeve and pulled out a string of coins. “Oh, here you go.”
“Wow, Mister,” Kang Hye exclaimed. “You must be super rich!”
It was the King’s money anyway. Min-jun would spend as much of it as he pleased. After all, none of this would’ve happened if the King hadn’t gone and gotten himself sick. The fault lay entirely with him. Min-jun was taking an advance payment, that was all.
Kang Hye continued to follow him through the crowded streets, one hand clasped to the fabric of his durumagi.
“And now? Do you need something?”
“No, but what if you still need my help?” Kang Hye chirped. “I can’t leave you in your time of need!”
“An investigation is no place for a child,” Min-jun chided, turning around to face him. He kneeled down to be on eye-level with Kang Hye. “Don’t you have a home to return to?”
Kang Hye kicked at a stone in the street, a pout on his face as he stared down at the dirt under his sandaled feet. “Home’s no fun.”
“Didn’t your parents ever teach you not to talk to strangers, anyhow? You shouldn’t simply follow any strange person on the street.”
Kang Hye giggled, as his hand hovered over his mouth to muffle the sound. “You just called yourself weird.”
Min-jun frowned, unamused. “Go. Home. I’ll handle the rest. Alright?” Min-jun did his best impression of his father’s stern gaze. Only a faint memory of it remained, and that alone made his heart clench.
Kang Hye’s head lifted up and down in a reluctant nod, as his pout worsened, his eyes looking anywhere but at Min-jun. “Alright.”
Step by glacial step, Kang Hye turned around, heading back down the street, casting betrayed glances over his shoulder. Min-jun pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, sighing. He turned to walk back in the direction of Sa’s, returning to his thoughts. Moments later, Min-jun realized Kang Hye was shadowing him. This little brat.
In one exhale, Min-jun sealed his fate: “Alright, fine, you can go with me.”
A/N:
Hello! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you did, please leave a comment down below!
In case you’re wondering, Mister = Ahjussi
Thank you! I have been looking forward to more!
Kang Hye not wanting to let his rich benefactor leave lol
If Mother wanted assignation to succeed why did she omit training in Gifted?
So now there’s a troublesome little kid. Would be good if he stayed with Min-jun as a little bro 😌
Haha you called yourself weird, Min-jun.
Thanks for the chapter ♥️♥️
Cute kid, he has a buddy now! Thanks for the chapter!
Ahaha, I love it! Kid seems like he could be pretty clever, too, so this should be fun~!