No More Thug Life, I’m Playing Music

Chapter 18: The Right Hand (2)

I tilted my head back just in time to dodge the punch. Ma Ducheol’s fist, missing its target, smashed into the bathroom door, shattering it into pieces.

This guy was genuinely trying to kill me.

“Ducheol!”

My shout only seemed to rile him up further. His punches flew even faster, each one as heavy as a bowling ball tied to a chain.

“Damn it!”

There was no way I could face him head-on with this body. Instead, I shoved him with my shoulder, using his momentum to push him into the wall, and threw myself out into the hallway.

“You son of a bitch!”

Ducheol turned quickly, this time kicking out with his leg.

This was my chance.

I spun away from his kick and countered with a low kick of my own.

Thud!

“…What the hell are you doing?”

Even though my kick landed perfectly, it didn’t faze him.

It was no use. With this untrained body, I couldn’t hope to go toe-to-toe with Ducheol.

Giving up on fighting him directly, I quickly retreated.

“I’ll kill you!”

Ducheol charged down the shabby motel hallway, wrecking everything in his path.

I kept backing away.

Thud!

My back hit the end of the hallway.

I should have gone for the stairs, but now there was nowhere left to run. I ducked into an open room next to me.

“You slippery bastard!”

Ducheol forced his massive frame through the door, blocking the entrance behind him.

I reached out my hand toward him.

“Ducheol, calm down! It’s me, Jinseong hyung!”

“What? You bastard, how dare you!”

Ducheol roared, raising both arms like an enraged bear.

For a moment, I thought of Choi Pilwook, but comparing their strength was an insult to Ducheol. If he got his hands on me, he’d crush my bones to powder.

“Stop! Someone’s going to get hurt!”

I took a step back and scanned the room.

It was small, like most motel rooms. The lack of space limited places to dodge, but it also simplified his attack paths.

“You son of a bitch!”

Ducheol kicked out again, using his body weight to corner me.

Using punches and kicks wasn’t his plan anymore—he was going to use his sheer size to overwhelm me.

But that played right into my strategy.

I fell back onto the floor as if collapsing, bracing my arms and raising my knees.

When Ducheol threw himself at me, I drove my knee up into his groin.

“Argh!”

His mouth gaped open in a silent scream as he lost his balance and toppled onto the single bed in the room.

The bed creaked under his weight before collapsing, sending him tumbling to the floor, groaning and clutching himself.

“Ugh…”

“Sorry about that.”

I patted his back as he lay there in pain.

“See? I told you someone was going to get hurt.”

Ducheol glared up at me, his face red as a beet.

“You… who the hell are you…”

“It’s me, Jinseong.”

“You bastard!”

Ducheol growled, reaching out to grab my collar, but I slammed my fist into his head—once, twice.

“Enough already.”

“You… you dare use hyung-nim’s name…”

Despite the blows, his rage didn’t waver. His eyes gleamed with the same intensity, ready to lunge at me any second.

I stepped back, out of his reach, and stared at him.

How could I convince him that I was Baek Jinseong?

Then I noticed the dragon tattoo on his right leg.

“That tattoo on your calf—you got it to cover up your middle school girlfriend’s name, right? Her name was Hyemi.”

“…What?”

“And the koi on your stomach, that was to hide your high school girlfriend’s name.”

“H-how do you…”

“And when you were twenty, you came to me with your girlfriend’s face tattooed on your back, and I scolded you for it.”

“Y-you lunatic!”

“In the end, you covered it all with that goblin tattoo, didn’t you?”

These were stories only Ducheol and I knew. His pride wouldn’t have let him share these embarrassing details with anyone else.

“And the woman you just broke up with…”

“…”

“Yeah, her name’s tattooed on your right butt cheek, isn’t it? You said it’d look like a birthmark if you erased it.”

The twisted rage on Ducheol’s face slowly gave way to confusion. His eyes welled up with tears as he spoke.

“Who… are you?”

Seeing his bewildered expression made me laugh.

Overwhelmed with relief, I shared one last secret, something only the two of us could know.

“It’s me. The one who gave you that scar on your head.”

“Ah! Ahhh!”

Ducheol was as meticulous as I remembered, but I didn’t expect it to be to this extent.

“Next question… Did Jinseong hyung ever get stabbed, yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“And where?”

“Right side of his torso.”

“What does the tattoo over the scar mean?”

“The name of the guy who stabbed him and the date we crippled him.”

“Ugh… Fine. Next… Did Jinseong hyung ever get slapped by a woman when he was twenty-four…”

“Yes, there was. It happened when the scribbles you and your ex-girlfriend wrote on the wall of the makgeolli bar you used to frequent were discovered.”

At my response, Ducheol’s voice wavered as he continued, now on the verge of tears.
“And… what did it say?”

“Hyejeong, I could do it a hundred times if it’s with you.”

“Ugh!”

Ducheol covered his mouth, tears streaming down his face. Just as he opened his mouth to ask another question, my irritation boiled over, and I grabbed him by the collar.

“Enough already. We’ll be here all night at this rate.”

“Hic…”

Ducheol wiped his tears, his shoulders trembling, and finally nodded, his expression one of complete trust.

“I saw it with my own eyes… Hyungnim… no, President… you… you died…”

Watching this hulking man cry like a child stirred something in me, too. Letting go of his collar, I patted his back.

“Forget the president nonsense. Just call me Hyungnim.”

“Jinseong Hyungnim…”

“Yeah, little brother.”

“You’re incredible…”

“…Huh?”

“I wish I could have such a handsome face and body… sniff…”

That the first thing he said after fully believing me was this—it was so typical of Ducheol that I couldn’t help but think how much he hadn’t changed.

“And… is that… big too?”

“Obviously.”

After exchanging some unnecessary remarks about this body, I shifted the topic to more pressing matters.

“My old body… you handled it well, right?”

“Yes, Hyungnim. Just as you always said, I scattered the ashes in the ocean near the orphanage.”

“Good. Were there many guests at the ceremony?”

“Yes, half gangsters, half police.”

In truth, I had attended my own funeral. By sheer coincidence, the hospital where I had been admitted as Jung Seojoon also hosted the service.

The event was crowded but quiet. Few mourned, save for a handful. Most attendees seemed there to celebrate Kim Changsik, who was set to take the deputy chairman seat in my stead.

The faces of the mourners radiated not grief for me but congratulations for him.

That was the outcome of dedicating my youth to the life of a gangster.

“And the big boss is the same as ever?”

“Yes, still bedridden. He’s gone to the U.S. this time for treatment.”

“I see… So what happened to you? What about the company?”

“Well…” Ducheol sighed. “After you were gone, I fought Kim Changsik and walked out.”

“And then?”

“And now I live like this. Pathetic, isn’t it?”

“Mm.”

I closed my eyes and listened intently to the surroundings. Nothing. It was as if the building was completely deserted, save for us.

It felt deliberately empty.

“You’ve not been living in peace, have you? Because of Kim Changsik?”

“Yes. I’ve let go of my former life, but… you know how that bastard is. He’ll stab me in the back someday.”

“Hm… If it’s him, then…”

I nodded, agreeing with his assessment.

“Hyungnim, why didn’t you come back sooner? I mean, this whole situation is unbelievable, but… we, your brothers, would’ve believed you.”

“I know.”

I reached for a cigarette from the pack near Ducheol, then stopped. With a bitter laugh, I spoke.

“I know this is irresponsible, but… I was just happy the way things were.”

“…”

“You know I hated being a gangster.”

“…”

“When the chance came to start over, I took it. Now I have parents, friends… and one of them is Junsoo.”

“J-Junsoo!”

Ducheol slapped his forehead.

“I’m sorry, Hyungnim! I should’ve looked out for Junsoo first! But that bastard Kim Changsik kept insisting he’d take care of it—”

“I understand.”

I ruffled his bald head and continued.

“Ducheol.”

“Yes, Hyungnim.”

“What are your plans now?”

“Well…” Ducheol hesitated, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I’m not going back to the company. Without you, I don’t see a reason to stay in the organization… And I can’t stand watching Kim Changsik strut around like he owns the place…”

Gripping my hand tightly, he added, “Can’t I just serve you again, like before?”

“Ducheol.”

“Yes, Hyungnim.”

“Listen carefully, and don’t take this the wrong way.”

“Yes, Hyungnim.”

“The truth is, I planned to cut ties with my past self entirely.”

“…”

“I wanted to forget all my sins and start anew. But I’ve committed too many sins, which is why I sought you out.”

“…”

“Ducheol.”

“Yes, Hyungnim.”

“Are you ready to hear this calmly, without losing your temper?”

“Yes, Hyungnim.”

“The one who killed me was Kim Changsik.”

Ducheol’s eyes widened as he stared at me.

“And now, Kim Changsik is trying to kill Junsoo.”

As soon as I finished, Ducheol rose slowly to his feet.

His expression was calm, but he opened a drawer and pulled out a sash-wrapped kitchen knife.

He looked ready to charge out the door, so I spoke in a steady voice.

“Sit down and calm yourself.”

“Hyungnim!”

He turned back to me, his lips trembling, his barely contained rage bubbling over.

“That bastard! I’ll tear him to pieces!”

I raised my gaze and warned him again.

“Sit. I’m not finished yet.”

“…Hyungnim.”

Grinding his teeth, Ducheol sat beside me, bowing his head as if trying to suppress his fury.

I immediately took the knife from him and set it aside.

“I wanted to tear him apart too, at first. But listen, Ducheol.”

“Yes, Hyungnim…”

“If we do that, all of our people will die. Both those from the past… and those in the present.”

Ducheol lifted his head and looked at me with a conflicted expression.
He understood, just as I did, the implications of what I had said.
If I was already presumed dead, and if Kim Changsik were to be removed, the Juseongpa—now JS Group—would be devoured by other organizations.
The old gang members would either be left crippled or erased from existence.

And then there was my new life.
The second chance I had been given would vanish like smoke.
Even the safety of my newfound family could no longer be assured.

Realizing this, Ducheol clenched his trembling fists and spoke through gritted teeth.

“Hyungnim… Are you planning to just forgive him?”

“No.”

“Then…?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I stared into his eyes.

Understanding my silence, Ducheol gave a resolute nod.

“I see. I understand your grand plan, Hyungnim.”

With a determined look, he knelt before me.

“What should I do first?”

“First,” I said, meeting his fervent gaze, “take a shower.”

“Yes! …What?”

“You stink.”

“Ah… Sorry, Hyungnim.”

“I’ll give you a list of things to do later.”

I glanced at my phone to check the time.

“Clean this place up. The owner’s going to faint if they see this mess.”

“It’s fine, Hyungnim. This is my place.”

“You bought this? Your business sense is terrible.”

“No, it’s not like that… It’s just the closest place to Mijeong’s shop.”

“Mijeong? The nail salon?”

“Yes, Hyungnim. I’m planning to get back together with her.”

“…Fine. Anyway, I’m heading home now.”

“Already? We haven’t seen each other in ages. Let’s at least have some soju!”

“No.”

“How could you…”

“I have school tomorrow, so I need to sleep.”

“…School? Hyungnim, don’t tell me… you got in trouble with the law?!”

Ducheol clutched his head in despair, and I sighed before answering.

“Not that kind of school. I’m a minor now.”

“…What?”

“What.”

“…I’m jealous.”

****

Had I ever eaten pork belly without soju?

I pondered this question as I placed slices of pork belly on the grill.

Hisssss

The rhythmic sizzle filled the air, almost melodic.

Perfect pitch was a fascinating thing. Even the sound of meat grilling could be distinguished by tone if you paid close enough attention.

“What are you thinking so deeply about?”

Seo Sooji, sitting across from me, asked.

“The tempo. If I were to mimic this sound with a snare, how fast…”

Before I could finish, Choo Minji snatched the tongs from my hand.

“Hey, shh. Let me handle it.”

“Pfft.”

Kim Bom, sitting nearby, covered her mouth and giggled.

Choo Minji shot her a sharp glare before speaking.

“Why is the traitor even at this dinner?”

“You invited me,” Kim Bom replied, unfazed.

It was the long-postponed orchestra club dinner. Thirty or so members were seated around tables in the barbecue restaurant near the school.

“You actually showed up just because we invited you? I thought rich girls hated this kind of thing.”

Minji’s words were barbed.

When Kim Bom had announced she was leaving the orchestra club, Minji had been teary-eyed at first. Now, her words were sharp and cutting.

“I watch too many dramas. I don’t hate it. Actually, I feel bad I haven’t been able to come more often since Mom died. Dad’s too busy to attend things like this.”

“…I see. Then let’s come again together sometime.”

Minji, now subdued, replied quietly. Kim Bom smiled faintly in response.

Seo Sooji, watching the two of them, gave a bittersweet smile and said, “Minji, Bom, you two were the only reason we made it this far. It’s a shame it’s all ending now.”

“…”

Minji stayed silent, while Kim Bom softly said, “I’m sorry, teacher.”

“No, it’s fine. You have your own path to follow. We were barely hanging on anyway. This feels… liberating, in a way.”

Lost in their conversation, I stared blankly at the sizzling grill.

“Eat up,” Seo Sooji said as she stood, her water glass in hand. She began moving from table to table, chatting with the students.

Watching her, I got up from my seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.”

As I left the restaurant, I accidentally kicked an empty soju bottle by one of the tables. I set it upright before stepping outside.

As I exited, two women entering the restaurant stopped in their tracks and pointed at me.

“Oh my god!”

Confused, I tilted my head.

They looked to be in their early twenties, and I couldn’t think of any connection they might have to me.

I tried to walk past them, but one of them, her eyes sparkling, spoke up.

“Aren’t you Baekjung?”

“…Excuse me? How do you know that?”

I was genuinely taken aback.

Baekjung. The “butcher.”

It was a nickname from my younger days—when I was Baek Jinseong. Hearing it now, I felt both startled and embarrassed.

“I’m a fan!”

“…Fan? Pen?”

“Yes! I’m a subscriber! You’re really a high schooler… And that face…”

The other woman chimed in enthusiastically.

“I’m a fan too! I’m in music school, so I admire you even more!”

High schooler? Music school?

As I stared at them, trying to process their words, someone grabbed my arm from behind.

“Hello~”

It was Choo Minji.

“Oh my goodness~ You’re a subscriber to my channel~!”

Choo Minji suddenly adopted a nasal, cutesy voice, bouncing up and down as she pushed me toward the bathroom.

I left the disappointed women behind and headed for the restroom.

“What the hell is going on…”

When I returned, Minji was outside the restaurant, chatting animatedly with the two women.

I made my way back to our table, where Kim Bom was grilling meat by herself. I couldn’t help but ask about what had just happened.

She answered quickly.

“You didn’t know? Minji unnie uploaded a video about you and called you Baekjung. She probably named the studio after it. Something about ‘slaughtering emotions through music.’”

“Ugh… of all names…”

“You still haven’t seen your video, have you?”

“No.”

Bom pulled out her phone, likely intending to show me, but before she could, Seo Sooji stood up from a nearby table.

Her face was red, and she raised one hand dramatically.

“Everyone, listen up!”

Her voice was uncharacteristic, almost as if she were drunk.

That’s when I noticed the empty soju bottle I had kicked earlier and the “water” cup she held in her hand.

She cheated and drank by herself…

“You’ve all worked so hard!”

She shouted again, her tone slurring slightly. Despite her normally aloof demeanor, the students didn’t seem particularly surprised.

It was as if they’d seen this before.

“Our orchestra club… sniff…”

She started sobbing mid-sentence.

“Even though we’re disbanding… I’m so grateful to all of you and I love you all…”

She collapsed back into her seat, lying face down on the table.

I smiled faintly and turned my attention back to the sizzling grill.

“Is she that relieved the performance is over?” I muttered to myself.

Kim Bom replied quietly, “It’s not that. It’s because the orchestra club is disbanding.”

“What? Disbanding?”

“Do you come to school just to sleep? You’re so clueless about what’s going on.”

“Stop with the nonsense and explain.”

“Since the regular concert went well, the school got ambitious. They decided to participate in a nationwide student music festival next fall.”

“And?”

“They wanted more practice hours for the orchestra, so the members went to the music teacher and said they were quitting.”

“Hah…”

“All the third-years are graduating, the current first-years are quitting, and even if they recruit new members, who’s going to join? This is a regular high school, not an arts school.”

In other words, no one had the time or energy to commit.

“Tsk, tsk…”

It was disappointing. Not because I had any deep attachment to the orchestra club, but because it had been a useful outlet for my musical cravings.

Still, I couldn’t deny that I had enjoyed coming to school on the days the orchestra met, even if it was just once a week.

I’d even cut my reunion with Ducheol short last night because of it.

“What a shame… Students just don’t have the time…”

That’s when I noticed a group of students leaving the school gate.

It was a pack of delinquents who used to follow Choi Pilwook.

Now that their suspensions were over, they were back, loitering in dark alleys as usual.

An idea struck me as I watched them.

“This is it.”

“Wow… Seojoon, you’re saying things like that now?”

Kim Bom shook her head, glancing toward Choo Minji, who was still outside chatting with the two women.