Underpainting

Five thirty.It had been about an hour since the man entered the two-story house across the street. Dawon, who was painting with the curtains half-open, was starting to feel a bit anxious.Despite constantly glancing through the small gap between the curtains, Dawon’s fingertips were still painting the woman’s eyes. The painting had to be finished by tomorrow.He was sick of the woman’s long-necked gaze, empty as ever. Sometimes, Dawon felt the urge to paint expressions on the characters that differed from the original design.However, these impulses always remained just that—impulses. Although he was concerned about getting scolded by his uncles, the bigger problem was that his brush wouldn’t move as his heart desired when he tried to draw different faces.‘If the corner of the eye goes up here… no, if it goes down…?’Seeing meant understanding. Painting meant you understood something well enough to depict it. Dawon could never figure out when people would cry or laugh, when they would feel joy or sorrow.The house, the garden, and the three uncles who came and went. That was almost the entirety of Dawon’s universe.‘Isn’t he coming today? No way.’Dawon’s attention was more on the window than on finishing the painting. The intervals at which his gaze shifted outside were becoming shorter and shorter.The small alley beyond the window and the two-story house across from it had always been there, but Dawon started paying close attention to them only two months ago. Since then, Dawon’s universe had expanded just a little.‘Ah, now…’The moment he felt a presence from the house across the street, Dawon put down his brush and stood up from his chair. It was only two steps from the chair to the window. When he stepped forward with his left foot and then with his right, Dawon’s body tilted significantly to the side.Dawon’s right leg, which had broken when he was eleven and hadn’t been properly treated, was noticeably thinner than his left. Limping, Dawon leaned half his weight against the window to look more closely across the alley.‘He’s out.’A man stood in the well-kept garden of the house across the street. He and his men had started appearing there about two months ago.As his uncles called them ‘gangsters’, ‘thugs’, the men from across the street all had rough looks, but this man stood out the most among them.He was a handsome man with thick eyebrows and a sharp nose, giving a cool impression. His usual suit fit his well-built, lean body perfectly, and not a single strand of his combed-back hair or his flat shoes were sloppy.‘Will he smoke today too?’Since the moment he first spotted him, Dawon observed his house, his garden, and the people coming and going every day. Above all, he meticulously watched this man. It was the first time he had observed a living subject with such dedication.Using a word he learned from a news segment his uncle briefly showed him, Dawon was a stalker of this man. There was always an alley’s distance between Dawon and him, but Dawon knew quite a lot about him, perhaps even parts the man would want to keep hidden.When the man took out a cigarette pack and a lighter from his pocket, Dawon’s gaze became even more intense. Dawon was calm but felt a strange excitement.‘I knew he’d smoke. He always does on days like this.’Dawon had memorized how the man smoked. The angle of his long fingers lighting the cigarette, how he inhaled deeply enough to hollow his cheeks, and how he exhaled.When he slightly lifted his chin to exhale, the white smoke would brush against his well-sculpted profile before dissipating.Watching him was interesting in itself. Dawon hadn’t met many people, but there was something special about this man. His sharply defined face evoked various feelings just by existing.He was probably an alpha. Although Dawon, being a beta, didn’t know about pheromones, he felt like the man would smell good. But that wasn’t the only reason Dawon observed him.‘His shirt has changed.’When he got out of the car about an hour ago and entered the house, he was wearing a black suit and a white shirt. It was the same now, but Dawon noticed the difference. The shirt collar was turned in the opposite direction from before, and the sleeve cuffs looked different too.Dawon remembered everything he saw once, and his observation skills were frighteningly good. It was both his weapon, his shackle, and his cross.‘Did it happen today too?’Once or twice a week, he would go out with other members of his organization. Sometimes, the same number of people returned, but about every other time, someone new would be with them.On those days, he would always come out to the garden to smoke alone an hour or two after entering the house. Each time, Dawon could sense a secretive, ominous trace from him. The changed shirt was the biggest clue.There were more signs. There were indentations on his palm from clenching his fist tightly, and his shoes had lost their shine as if something had been hastily wiped off.And most importantly, when he tilted his head slightly while exhaling a long stream of smoke, Dawon saw a small red dot under his jawline. It was a substance whose color and texture were hard to replicate even with mixing paints and pigments.‘Blood.’When he guessed its identity, Dawon’s lips rarely curled up slightly. So engrossed, he didn’t even notice he had almost smiled.At that moment, footsteps were heard from the hallway beyond the door. His uncles must be bringing dinner. Though reluctant to end his observation, Dawon silently closed the curtains and limped back to his chair.‘It’s okay. I’ve seen enough already.’Seeing was knowing, so Dawon had gathered enough data about the man and that house over two months. What would happen next was obvious even without watching.After smoking more than half of his cigarette, the man would take out a portable metal ashtray with intricate patterns from his pocket and stub out the butt.His subordinates would bow deeply to him as he entered the house, check the gardening tools, and securely lock the gate. On days like this, they might look around with even more vigilance.After that, nothing would happen until nightfall. Only a slight hint of activity in the dead of night, when no light shone. Even the next morning, the well-tended garden would look peaceful and clean.‘At least on the surface.’But to Dawon’s eyes, everything was visible. On such days, the positions of the shovel and pickaxe would be changed, and the angle of trees and grass would be distorted. The area around the faucet would be suspiciously clean.If the man’s subordinates hadn’t been careful enough the previous night, one might find a spot in the garden where the soil looked oddly disturbed, as if something had been buried and the traces covered up.‘I can check tomorrow morning. But actually, there’s no need to look more. I’m right.’To avoid being caught daydreaming by his uncles, Dawon quickly picked up his brush again. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes sparkled with pure conviction.‘No doubt about it. Someone’s being killed in that house.’The next moment, the door opened. Seeing the scuffed and crumpled toe of a shoe through the door gap, Dawon’s expression turned dry.His second uncle, with a hunched back, and his youngest uncle, with a stout build, entered the room. The second uncle put the tray on the table and smiled, showing his stained teeth.“D-Dawon. Eat, quick.”Despite the seemingly generous words, Dawon’s meals were always meager. Just enough to keep him from starving to death, but not enough to give him the energy to run away. Just as Dawon was about to bring his spoon to his mouth, his youngest uncle’s hand, like the lid of a pot, smacked Dawon’s head.“You ungrateful brat, shouldn’t you at least pretend to be thankful when we bring you food?”The hit was so hard that Dawon’s eyes nearly popped out. Dawon only let out a short “ugh” as he dropped his spoon but otherwise showed no reaction. Silently, he pulled out a tissue to wipe the food from his mouth.“In this recession, uncles are working their backs off to feed you, damn it. When you think about how the stocks and crypto have all gone down the drain…”“…”“Ha, what would some kid who’s stuck at home know. Forget it.”The youngest uncle shook his head and looked at the painting on the easel. He sneered maliciously at the woman made of half-dry paint.“Damn, looks like shit again today. Who knows what’s good about this that people come with cash to buy it. What was her name, again? M-, M-…”“Modigliani.”Dawon said the artist’s name in a monotonous voice. As his uncle said, Dawon was confined to the house and knew little, but he had perfectly memorized the names of modern and contemporary artists, their styles, and the materials they used in their paintings.Dawon painted, and his uncles sold those paintings. But Dawon was not an ‘artist.’ What he painted were forgeries. Drawing for fifteen hours a day was the only activity allowed for Dawon in this place.Feeling embarrassed by Dawon’s response, the youngest uncle widened his eyes while the second uncle picked up the spoon from the floor, wiped it on his clothes, and handed it back to Dawon.“D-Dawon. Hehe.”Though his appetite vanished, Dawon reluctantly took the spoon. The youngest uncle, who had been looking for an excuse to pick a fight, burst into laughter as expected.“Anyway, Dawon, you’re so cold-hearted. When someone shows you such kindness, shouldn’t you at least suck their dick? Mr. Kim has been waiting to get his dick sucked by you until you grew up, but you’re just a beta, so nothing changes even if you do it.”Dawon ignored the second uncle, whose face turned red at these words. He only ate his meal while calculating the timing to say what he had planned. Bringing up this topic was the start of his plan.“Uncle. Pack the painting outside the gate tomorrow.”After a suitable silence, Dawon casually spoke. Tomorrow was the day to take the painting to the auction house. Making a frame from wood to ensure the packaged painting wasn’t damaged was the job of the two uncles. Having to start work early in the morning, the youngest uncle responded irritably.“What? Last time you made such a fuss about the noise from the saw that you chased me out to the garden, and now you want me to do it out on the street?”“The bulbs in the garden might get damaged.”Thud, thud. A hand came flying at Dawon’s head again. Dawon wasn’t surprised since he had anticipated this response.“Do you think we look like your servants because we look after a cripple?”The second uncle hurried over, pretending to soothe while groping Dawon’s shoulders and back.“Oh, Dawon. Y-you understand. D-Doo-young acts like this because we don’t know what those guys across the street might say.”“Damn, what bullshit is that? Do I look like I care about those worthless thugs? If it weren’t for big brother’s word, I would’ve wiped them out long ago.”The mention of the house across the street made the youngest uncle flare up. A few days ago, he had a spat with them while smoking in the alley.The people from across the street immediately surrounded and threatened the youngest uncle when he threw a cigarette butt and spat on the ground. Perhaps because of the ‘cleanliness’ of ‘that man’ they served, they were quite particular about keeping the alley clean.That day, the youngest uncle bowed his head like a docile lamb to them not just because of the big uncle’s advice to avoid trouble with them. He knew well enough that he would be flattened if he showed his temper.Despite Dawon having seen this pitiful scene from the second-floor window, the youngest uncle still boasted and growled. Instead of mocking him, Dawon hid his true feelings and spoke calmly.“They won’t be moving in the morning anyway. We’ll leave before lunch.”Perhaps because he was indeed concerned about the gangsters across the street, the youngest uncle hesitated for a moment. Dawon, seizing the moment, added pitifully,“It’s not like I planted those flowers for my own enjoyment. I just tried planting them because you told me to draw flowers I’ve never seen before. Where else can I go but the garden?”At these words, the youngest uncle muttered curses, and the second uncle busily kept touching Dawon’s back. Unlike the eldest uncle, they had some semblance of sympathy.After much grumbling, the uncles eventually agreed to Dawon’s request. Feeling that things were going according to plan, Dawon smiled inside. He had long forgotten how to smile outwardly.The next morning, Dawon started work earlier than usual. As soon as he picked up the brush, he looked through the gap in the curtains to check the garden across the street. The pale dawn garden was filled with an eerie atmosphere. As expected, the tools were arranged unnaturally, and there was a spot where the soil was disturbed.By the time the sun was fully up, the two uncles were seen in the alley cutting wooden planks. Having slept in until the last possible moment, they seemed too busy with the packing to tidy up around.When they finished packing and left, the alley was littered with sawdust and scraps of paper. While moving his brush busily, Dawon felt a sense of relief inside.‘Just as I expected.’Around noon, a strange car appeared and entered the garage across the street, and all the members of the organization came out into the garden. The day after ‘guests’ visited the house across the street.They soon discovered the messy alley and cursed. As the men came out with brooms to clean up, Dawon stuffed the bread prepared for lunch into his mouth.‘Now’s the time.’Dawon grabbed his coat and left the room. After lunch was his walking time, the only rest time he had won through stubborn insistence, despite being mocked for a cripple’s walk.He leaned on the handrail, staggering down the stairs. When fully concentrated, Dawon could walk on flat ground somewhat normally for a few minutes, but on stairs, he had to drag his body.Even with his awkward steps, Dawon kept recalculating his route in his mind. The front door and the gate had sensors, and there were CCTV cameras all over the garden watching Dawon. Someone might be watching, so he had to move naturally without showing any excitement.As he started his walk, Dawon slowly circled the narrow garden as usual, keeping an eye on the movements outside the wall. Soon, he saw the men from across the street, done with cleaning the alley, going back through the gate with garbage bags.‘They’ll go to smoke since they’re all riled up.’They often smoked near the backyard garbage area. Unlike how they scolded his youngest uncle about cigarette butts, they seemed to handle the cleanup inside the house casually, as there was a fire caused by cigarette butts in that garbage area ten days ago.It was quite an interesting spectacle to watch from across the street, but the fire was so small it was almost embarrassing to call it a fire. However, the man seemed to view the incident itself as a problem, and he had lined up his subordinates and kicked their legs with his shoe.The subordinates usually followed the man’s orders well, but giving up their smoking time seemed difficult. Perhaps because there was nowhere else to smoke, even after the incident, they left a fire extinguisher nearby and still smoked there. They would certainly do so today.‘About three minutes, I guess.’Calculating the time, Dawon stopped his walk and headed back to the entrance. Pretending to go inside, he hid in a previously memorized blind spot of the CCTV. One, two, three. Dawon counted slowly in his head.He firmly believed his calculations were correct, but for some reason, there was no sign of action even as he counted close to 200.‘It should be time by now.’Just as worry began to set in, there was a loud bang from next door, followed by smoke rising. Immediately, beeps from fire alarms in both houses across the alley started sounding almost simultaneously.‘Done.’Ten days ago, from the cigarette butt incident, Dawon learned that when smoke rose from the backyard across the street, this house’s fire alarm would also go off, and after the alarm sounded, the security system, including the CCTV, would stop until manually reset.Dawon had immediately planned to stop the CCTV and escape the house during that time. On this day, when the eldest uncle was away, Dawon made his uncles litter the alley with easily ignitable sawdust, planning for the thugs to take it to their garbage area.Dawon hobbled across the garden and over the alley. Although his back was sweating, fortunately, there were no obstacles. The gate of the house across the street opened easily, perhaps because the security system was down.“Damn, what the hell? What’s in there that the fire won’t go out?”The thugs must have gathered in the backyard to put out the fire because the front garden was empty, and there was a fierce murmur from the backyard. With the flammable paint Dawon had applied to the wood, it would take quite some time to extinguish the fire.Dawon calmly opened the front door and entered the man’s house. There was no one in the high-ceilinged living room either. As Dawon looked around, wondering where the man might be, a strange sound reached his ears.“Ah, oh, sir. Ah, oh…”The sound came from a room deep within the living room. The man was probably there. Dawon hesitated before heading there.Because the youngest uncle often brought women to the first floor to fool around, Dawon knew what that sound meant. Although Dawon’s common sense was limited, he knew not to barge in at such a time.‘But… I have no choice. I might not get another chance like this.’This was an opportunity hard to come by. There was no guarantee that such a day would come again before the man left this house. After hesitating, Dawon finally went towards the sound and pushed open the door.“Ah, oh.”It was as expected, but the scene before him was quite explicit. In the middle of the hot room, there was nothing but a bed, and on it, two men were intertwined.The first to catch Dawon’s eye was the man lying face down. He was panting heavily, his limbs raised like an animal, lifting his hips, unaware of Dawon’s entrance.‘Is he an omega? And…’Dawon’s gaze quickly passed over the man in front and lingered much longer on the one behind. The man Dawon was looking for was standing behind the omega, his waist raised. Unlike the man in front, he immediately stopped moving and looked at Dawon.‘…Such a symmetrical face.’Dawon mentally drew large and small shapes, estimating the harmony of the eyebrows and the bridge of the nose, the proportions of the wide shoulders and chest. Apart from some scars here and there, the body visible through the open robe was smoothly sculpted.Dawon’s thought of the man in the midst of sex like looking at a sculpture was because the man was unusually composed. His expression looked bored, devoid of any heat. It didn’t seem like it had cooled because of Dawon’s arrival but rather that it had never heated up in the first place.His attitude, as if dealing with a tiresome daily routine, reminded Dawon that a strange car always came to this house on such days.‘Is it this man’s habit to call an omega for sex the day after killing someone?’As Dawon thought this, the omega lying down finally noticed him and was startled. He turned his pale face to the man behind him and asked in a panic.“Argh…! Whoa, sir, who is he? How did he get in here?”To the omega, Dawon must have looked like a monster. With his unkempt hair and pale skin, showing no signs of embarrassment or panic for intruding on someone’s bedroom sex.“Huh…”Instead of answering, the man exhaled deeply and pulled his hips back. As their bodies separated, the omega, losing balance, fell forward. At that moment, the man’s erect member was revealed in front of Dawon.Even though they were both men, Dawon was flustered seeing another man’s erect penis for the first time. Moreover, it felt quite different from Dawon’s own, too different to just call it the same. It was darker, with prominent veins, and above all, it seemed twice as thick and long as Dawon’s.However, the man who had exposed himself was still expressionless. He glanced at the bewildered Dawon and then ordered the omega with whom he had just been intimate.“Leave.”“What…?”The omega asked in surprise, but the man gave no reply, only lighting a cigarette while closing his robe.“Ha, what kind of situation is this?”The omega, hastily buttoning his shirt and standing up, glared at Dawon as if he wanted to kill him before leaving the room. Meanwhile, the man stood by the bed, smoking.His action alone conveyed his anger vividly. He was a precise and tidy man. Everything in the room was placed in perfect order. Flicking ash onto the bedroom carpet would go against his rules.In the tense silence, the man’s phone rang. He answered it while still smoking.“No. Send him back. Yeah. Stay there until I call you.”After hanging up with those sharp words, the man took a deep drag and exhaled. As he stubbed out the cigarette on the cigarette pack, a strange smell of burning plastic spread through the air.“Who are you?”A chilling sense of intimidation was felt in that short sentence. However, Dawon was more surprised by the first question he had ever been asked than by fear. No one had ever asked who Dawon was before.“I live next door. I paint every day.”Perhaps because of this, Dawon started with an odd response, and he even spoke casually out of habit. Although Dawon vaguely knew to use honorifics with someone he met for the first time, he had almost never done so, hence he didn’t know how to.“Uh, my studio is on the second floor. I can see this place from the window, so I’ve always been watching this house, you…”The man, who had been taken aback by Dawon’s informal speech, let out a short breath at the word “you.” But Dawon, who had something he must say, continued without stopping.“So I know. That people are killed in this house.”“…”“I came here today because I have a request. I want to kill someone.”As Dawon finished speaking, his heart felt like it was burning below. It was because he had voiced a long-held desire.“…What are you talking about? People being killed in this house?”Dawon was serious, but the man replied coldly. Dawon knew well how strange his words might sound.“It’s exactly as I say.”With his fists clenched, Dawon recounted what he had heard, seen, and thought over time.“This house… has always been empty since I first came to this neighborhood. I don’t know when your organization bought it, but you moved here two months ago.”The uncles showed Dawon almost no TV or newspapers, hoping he would remain ignorant of the world and just paint. Dawon’s windows into the world were a few art history books, the view from the window, and snippets of conversations from people around him.But Dawon had sharp eyes, and because his only job was to paint, he had plenty of time to think. Piecing together small clues like puzzle pieces to form a larger picture was Dawon’s specialty and hobby.“There are six people staying in this house, including you. These people occasionally go out in a big car. Sometimes, they come back with ‘guests’… unknown faces.”“…”“When guests come, no sound comes from this house. No one laughs or talks like they usually do. After an hour or two, you always go out to the front gate to smoke. And those guests never come out of the house again.”“So, you imagined that those people don’t come out because they’re dead? Well, kids have vivid imaginations.”The man smiled slightly, lifting the corner of his mouth. A smile that seemed gentle at first glance but was all the more threatening. He had sometimes shown such expressions to the ‘guests’ dragged into this house.“Do you think there’s only one door to this house? There are passages on the opposite side that you can’t see from across the street, and even a tunnel connected to the underground garage.”That was probably not a lie. Dawon had seen people who had entered the house suddenly appear in the alley several times, rubbing his eyes in disbelief.The reason Dawon brought this up first was simply to gauge the man’s reaction. The moment he sensed the man was making excuses, Dawon became even more convinced that his suspicions were true.“…I see.”“Yes. I’ll overlook the fact that you barged in here uninvited, so just—”“Then, can I dig up your garden right now?”“….”“Can I check what’s buried under the small tree with purple berries next to where I disturbed the soil yesterday?”Despite Dawon’s precise description of where a body was buried, the man’s expression remained unchanged. He merely scoffed, as if amused. Then, he walked towards Dawon. The carpet around the bed muffled his footsteps, just as this house and its neat garden had swallowed the screams and bodies of those who had disappeared.Dawon couldn’t move as the man closed the distance between them. It wasn’t just because of his injured leg. Anyone would feel like prey in the face of those beastly eyes.The man stood so close that their toes almost touched. He lifted Dawon’s face with his fingertips. As Dawon desperately tried to avoid his gaze, the man roughly gripped his chin.“Ugh…!”Their eyes met forcefully. The man’s eyes were pitch black, but flecked with an unusual light—a mix of gray and dark green. No paint could replicate that eerie glow.The man’s mention of another exit wasn’t an excuse. He had merely thrown out bait to see Dawon’s reaction, just as Dawon had done to him.He was a man who didn’t need to make excuses. Even if Dawon knew his darkest secrets, it wouldn’t change anything.“Huh, ugh….”Dawon gasped for breath, his lips half-crushed. His throat wasn’t being squeezed, but he struggled to breathe. It wasn’t because his lips were pressed together, but because the man was staring at him intently.The man’s slow gaze traced from Dawon’s forehead to his neck. Being observed was usually Dawon’s role, so having someone scrutinize him made his spine tingle.He tried to pull his head back, but the man gripped his chin tighter. He could easily snap Dawon’s neck if he wanted to. With a smirk still on his lips, but no warmth in his eyes, the man said,“You little rat… You want to dig up the garden? Go ahead. But remember, whatever you find is your responsibility.”“….”“Why so quiet? You said many people have come into this house and never left. Didn’t you think the same could happen to you when you crawled in here?”His low tone was no less threatening. Dawon’s instinctive fear made the back of his neck stiffen.But he was still okay. Before coming here, Dawon had naturally considered that the man might try to kill him. The easiest solution for someone who had seen too much and was causing trouble would be to eliminate them. The situation was still within Dawon’s calculations.“…As I said earlier, I paint.”Dawon quickly continued, afraid his repeated words might sound like nonsense.“Forgeries. I paint forgeries, mostly from the 19th or 20th centuries. I can replicate the color, shape, and texture perfectly. They’re valuable paintings. Each one can sell for tens or even hundreds of millions of won.”The only place Dawon was allowed to go was the art auction house. After a few costly mistakes from overbidding to drive up prices, his uncles started taking Dawon to auctions to observe the competition.They thought Dawon had no idea how much money was involved, but he wasn’t as clueless as they believed.“Why are you telling me this?”Despite the large sums mentioned, the man showed no reaction. Dawon licked his dry lips.Sometimes, people came to Dawon’s house to buy paintings. Most were fooled by his uncle’s reputation as a skilled art dealer, but some knew the paintings were forgeries.Dawon learned the art of negotiation by eavesdropping on these conversations. To get what you want, you have to offer something the other person desires.“Two reasons. First, I want you to know that I might be useful to you.”It was understandable that the man wasn’t impressed. Dawon’s paintings weren’t easy to sell. His uncle always said that without his connections, Dawon’s paintings would be worthless.Dawon’s lips were drying quickly. Time was running out. If he didn’t return to his house before his uncles came back, he would be in serious trouble. Knowing it wasn’t the wisest move, Dawon played his next card.“And if something happens to me, my uncles will look for me. They won’t stop until they find me.”“….”“You don’t like people poking around, do you? That’s why you came here, isn’t it? There’s no one around, and the phone signal is weak.”If a deal couldn’t be made, the next best thing was a threat. His uncle feared troublemakers who had nothing to lose. Dawon had nothing to lose. The man’s eyes narrowed slightly, but that was enough.He seemed to have decided not to kill Dawon immediately, as he let go of his chin. Dawon instinctively stepped back. His legs were stiff from standing for so long, making him stagger more than usual.His crippled body was frustrating, but there was nothing he could do about it. Dawon shifted his weight onto his good left leg and dragged his withered right leg beside it.“Ha.”The man exhaled sharply, watching Dawon struggle. He looked Dawon up and down again, his gaze lingering on the handprint on his cheeks and then on his uneven ankles. Dawon couldn’t decipher the meaning behind his stare.Was it because Dawon was bad at reading people, or was the man naturally inscrutable? Before Dawon could figure it out, the man crossed his arms and said casually,“So, kid. Who do you want to kill?”Kid? Dawon was thin from malnourishment, but he was an adult.“I’m twenty-one.”The man didn’t respond, as if Dawon’s age was irrelevant. Come to think of it, Dawon didn’t care about honorifics either. The fact that the man was asking who Dawon wanted to kill meant there was a chance for a deal. That was more important.“The man who comes and goes from the house next door. My house.”“There are three of them. All three?”Dawon considered the question. The second uncle often groped him, and the youngest beat him. Both were annoying, but not enough to want them dead.“The oldest one. The one who wears a suit.”“Why? Did he do this to your leg?”Dawon was surprised that the man was curious about his leg. He quickly composed himself, not wanting to show his fluster.“…Well, it’s not because of that.”Dawon wanted to say “yes,” but he wasn’t confident. If he asked his uncles the same question, they would unanimously say that the person who ruined Dawon’s leg was Dawon himself.When Dawon was eleven, he jumped from the second floor to escape his uncles and broke his ankle. His uncles left his injury untreated.Perhaps they thought it was better for Dawon to be crippled so they could keep him locked up, or maybe they just couldn’t take him to the hospital. Officially, Dawon had died at the age of seven, so they had no other choice.In the end, Dawon became lame, but that wasn’t the extent of his resentment. He slowly clenched and unclenched his fist inside his coat sleeve before speaking.“That man killed my mother.”Dawon vividly remembered the moment his uncle’s hand wrapped around his mother’s neck, and the desperate look in her eyes as she silently pleaded with Dawon to run away.Even as he recounted the memory that had haunted him as nightmares, Dawon’s expression remained calm. There was no time for sentimentality. The man also showed no sign of being moved. Between them hung only a heavy silence.After the silence lingered, the man picked up another cigarette. As he lit it with a familiar gesture, Dawon suddenly moved.“What the….”The man, his guard momentarily lowered, tried to block Dawon. But Dawon swiftly grabbed a small metal box from the left inner pocket of the man’s jacket hanging on the coat rack. He moved with the confidence of someone retrieving their own belongings.‘Ah, it’s a dragon.’Dawon’s eyes narrowed slightly as he held the man’s portable ashtray. He had always wondered if the pattern engraved on it was a vine or a dragon. Now, his long-held curiosity was satisfied.The man looked back and forth between the portable ashtray and Dawon before taking it. Although there was no smile in his eyes, there was a hint of interest.Anxiety and anticipation stirred within Dawon. He wanted to prove his usefulness to the man. As the man turned his cigarette into ash and exhaled smoke, Dawon recited what he knew about the ‘target.’“That man… His name is Choi Beom-sik, and he’s older than forty-five. He likes alcohol, gambling, and omegas. I don’t know where he lives, but he occasionally visits that house. Either to give orders or when there are customers coming to buy paintings.”“….”“And… I know another place where you can find him. It’s an art auction house, and there’s an auction coming up soon. Next Wednesday, March 10th.”“Next Wednesday is March 6th.”The man’s words confused Dawon for a moment, but he shook his head firmly.“I can count the days accurately. I’ve counted every day without mistake. Today is Thursday, March 4th, so next Wednesday is….”“Today is February 29th.”“February only has 28 days.”Dawon replied immediately, but the man looked puzzled. Dawon’s confidence waned, and his voice grew quieter.“…Isn’t it? That’s what my calendar says.”“It must not be this year’s calendar. How old is it….”“Fourteen years old.”Despite his confusion, Dawon’s voice remained calm.“I brought it with me when I first came to that house at the age of seven.”The man’s eyebrows furrowed, and his gaze sharpened. After a moment of thought, he said something unexpected.“You’re a more interesting little rat than I thought, kid.”Hearing “kid” again, Dawon flinched, but then a question arose in his mind.‘Wait, am I really twenty-one?’Everything was confusing. Dawon felt like his world would crumble if he let his guard down.Although he was now alone in that prison-like house when his uncles locked the door and left at night, it hadn’t always been that way. When seven-year-old Dawon first arrived at that house, he was with his mother and another ‘brother’ who also painted.That brother had taught young Dawon how to handle paints. After his mother’s death, he became Dawon’s only solace. Though they rarely had proper conversations, Dawon clearly remembered something he often said.〈Dawon, don’t end up like me.〉Dawon couldn’t even say “I won’t” in response. The brother, who initially seemed ordinary, gradually lost his spirit and sanity over time.He seemed to empty his mind and focus only on painting, aware of the passage of days but oblivious to the passing of years. Dawon never knew his age because the brother couldn’t keep track of it himself.Eventually, the brother began repeating himself and saying nonsensical things. When he finally forgot how to paint, the uncles took him away, and he never returned.‘I have to stay sane. I have to survive.’For this reason, Dawon keenly observed his surroundings and remained vigilant. He counted the days, memorized the changing scenery outside the window, and pieced together snippets of his uncles’ conversations to understand the world.But the world was not kind to Dawon. Besides ‘February 29th,’ there were countless other rules of life that Dawon didn’t know. Although he knew this wasn’t the time to worry about such things, he couldn’t help but blurt out,“The numbers don’t add up.”“What doesn’t?”The man asked impatiently, as if Dawon’s calculations were off. Dawon hesitantly continued his question.“If I miscounted one day each year for fourteen years, there should only be a four-day difference between my count and the actual date….”“Did you come here to study math? February 29th occurs once every four years.”The man lit another cigarette and answered nonchalantly. Dawon quickly did the math and understood. He didn’t know why such a rule existed, but if what the man said was true, then Dawon hadn’t miscounted or lost his mind.“Okay. Anyway, at that auction house….”“By the way, kid.”“….”“Do you smell something in this room right now?”The man interrupted and asked an unrelated question. He even blew smoke in Dawon’s face. It was a strange question, but Dawon had to answer since the man had asked. Whether it was a joke or a meaningful question, it didn’t matter.“Cigarette.”After much thought, Dawon gave the obvious answer. The man seemed amused and slightly narrowed his eyes. But Dawon continued expressionlessly.“Burnt plastic smell, semen smell, sweat smell, blood smell, rubber smell, soap… rose-scented soap smell. Mint gum smell. Bleach smell. But it’s coming from far away. And, um….”Although not as keen as his eyesight, Dawon’s sense of smell was also sharp. As he focused his senses, he felt a strange discomfort. Since entering the room, he had felt an intense, prickling sensation that he couldn’t quite place.‘I thought it was the atmosphere or aura, but maybe it’s a scent.’However, he couldn’t find the words to describe it.“There’s an unfamiliar smell… I don’t know what it is.”If this was a test, Dawon needed to get the answer right. He looked up at the man anxiously. But the man didn’t reveal whether Dawon was correct and instead asked another question.“What’s the name?”