DISCLAIMER: This is all (mostly) fiction. Please do not take anything as fact-based unless you’ve done your own research (yes, I am lazy).

WARNINGS: Swearing (and lots of it), violence, total butchering of world and especially Korean history, m/m slash, sex, Korean references (refer to “Info” at the bottom), clichéness.

Affair With A Gangster
일: The Ggangpae

I was such a cocky little shit in school.

What did I think I would do after all of it? After almost two decades of academic indoctrination entangled with the grueling realities of an impoverished school system in a broken country wavering between autocracy and weak democracy.

I’d had no plan, no higher goal—nothing, really. Just took it all in stride, did anything and everything I felt like doing. The ardent patriotism, the nerve-wracking political upheavals…the grand, lofty epic beyond my comprehension…they were all background noise during my school years, especially—mostly—in high school.

Being the maknae of six children of a relatively wealthy family of yangban ancestry in the second largest city of small, confused, dirt-poor South Korea left me with too much—too much freedom, entitlement, confidence. I was stupid. I should have focused, should have had foresight.

Even if mathematics made me want to punch my guts in, and I had a monkey’s skill in the finer arts, and I hated all the schoolwork interfering with my egoistic wants…I should have at least forced myself to stick with something. Just one subject that could have helped me get a useful degree, maybe even a master’s. I had chosen to attend engineering college, stupidly. An average-intelligence guy like me didn’t have many open doors. But what use is a bachelor’s in civil engineering? Especially when the whole subject has become agonizingly uninteresting?

And it wasn’t as though I could pursue a career in professional sports. I was healthy and competent, I liked martial arts, I had already served my time in the army. Sports and fighting had been my loves as a naïve student. But I had never been excellent—I’d just always had the advantage of size.

Spring of 1984 and I was fast approaching 28. Since I’d been such a shitty student, I’ve long resigned myself to puttering about as a Jack of all trades. A master of nothing…except maybe watching the world move forward with its mammoth technologies, its efficient machines, its rapid encroachment toward total globalization; and me riding that tidal wave at its trough, making friends and acquaintances and social connections because that’s what I did as I worked at my various jobs.

Why was I contemplating all of this?

Because I had just made a misstep and landed in the pits of hell.

I had worked mostly as a paper-pusher and errand-boy for some small-time companies, and I wanted to branch out a bit. So I pursued a tiny business venture. Well…actually, more like setting up and managing one of the chain stores of a franchise belonging to a good acquaintance. The minor problem was that I had borrowed money from a friend of mine. The major problem was the vital information I had lacked. The supposedly good friend had, himself, borrowed money from a loan shark, and he had lent me that borrowed cash.

One of the most practical lessons that this disaster taught me was that I should continue to hone my people-judging skills.

So, perhaps all of it was just a massive blunder on my side. My research was usually pretty thorough… But all that in retrospect was useless, wasn’t it? Just when I had set up shop, he left the country. I didn’t make much of it back then, but…sshibal…

It was a fucking unpleasant surprise when a handful of shady men in suits of various neatness knocked on my door at grand opening day. Their presence in this part of Seo-gu, Busan drove away all of the meager potential customers for the day, my employees had cowered back, and I had to deal with this alone. Not even the ajummas came out to harp on the intruders.

There were a lot of things I knew how to do, but dealing with actual ggangpae was definitely not on that list. I suppose it served me right, for being such a fool.

“Yi Jihwan?” came a curt, no-nonsense voice from the entrance.

“That’s my name…” When I stopped checking inventory to walk out from the back of the store and actually look at the visitors, my instincts kicked up. I looked down my nose at the apparent leader—he was easily a few centimeters shorter than my own 190 cm. “What business do you have here?” It was hard not to sound too aggressive. Impossible to be polite.

The man heading the gang—couldn’t be older than me—looked deceptively suave in his relatively expensive-looking crisp black suit and fedora hanging low in his eyes. I suppose one could call him handsome. He would have been a college heartthrob, no doubt, with girls sighing over him and guys wanting to be him. On par with myself, actually. Hah, was that little add-on too arrogant? Does it matter? After all, pretty girls’ gazes and ajummas’ praises don’t lie, not usually.

He casually tipped the hat up with fingers gloved in black leather, and took a long, piercing look at me. My hackles were still raised, but I could tell that he had not expected whatever he’d expected. He was off-kilter, just a bit. But he recovered smoothly, and tilted his head down in a casual bow.

“My name is Shin Haehyul,” he said, civilly, with something like a hopeful, almost imperceptible smile on his movie-star face.

I raised an eyebrow at him. Okay. “Mr. Shin…” What was he expecting? “What business do you have with me?”

Almost immediately, his expression shuttered, face impassive, most of the traces of emotion gone. For a moment, his lips twisted slightly, before he replied calmly, “We’re here to start collecting debts, Mr. Yi.”

Leaning on the creaky wooden counter, I crossed my arms. I was getting increasingly worried. “What debts?”

“A few months back, you took out a loan from Seogupa.”

My fingers dug painfully into my bicep. “I borrowed the money from my friend, Sang Shikyung…”

“Then that pilfering weasel screwed you over.” Shin had the nerve to give me an amused smirk.

I gritted my teeth. Anger at my absent friend boiled up and I fisted the hands at my side. No wonder he had turned tail, leaving no contact, no warning. Sang Shikyung was a dead man if the Seogupa caught him. If I had known, I would never have touched such dirty money. This little shop was not worth the mess of having loan sharks hounding me.

“So? What do you want me to do? I don’t have much money right now.”

“Ah…” the ggangpae grinned, half-assedly raising his hands in mock-placation. “We’re just here to tell you that you have a week to pay back the loan.”

“And how much would the total be?” A chill ran down my back. I was almost afraid to know.

“5 million won.”

“That’s including interest,” I said, with just a bit of a question in my tone to confirm.

“Yes.”

I nodded slowly, keeping eye contact with the gang’s young head, whose eyes still seemed to expect something. But I had no interest in interpreting what.

Fucking loan sharks, always charging steep interest. I’d barely made 5 million last year. But…I’m sure my debt was nothing compared to what some other unfortunate souls had to owe.

“And if I don’t have the money by then?”

A few of the ggangpae cracked their knuckles, menacingly. Oh, their unspoken response was loud and clear and, of course, typical. I suspected they anticipated me to break into cold sweat, but the low-lifes were going to be disappointed.

With a dismissive glance at them, I curled my lip. “You’ve made your point. Now get off the property.”

The insolent brush-off was not a wise move. I seemed to be making many unwise moves these days. But that thought was for later. I was still mired in this stupid problem.

One week was not enough for the profits from the shop to match the debt. Half of my immediate family were in the U.S., living the American dream with relative success. The other half had their own skins to look after in this country. The thought of going home and out-of-the-blue asking my eldest brother for even 100 thousand made me want to die. All he had was his inheritance and the Busan keunjip. Nor could I rely on my two older sisters and their husbands. They were busy making ends meet. Our family had started trailing behind the world’s advancements. We were no longer one of the material nobility. I could ask my friends, if they were not as financially unfortunate as I was. And borrowing money to pay back a mobster loan was just…not ideal in this situation.

Shin gestured for his lackeys to stay near the entrance and approached me, and I stupidly let myself be cornered. Even if his body language meant no harm. “You’re quite the cocky shit, aren’t you, Jihwan?” he muttered low as he looked up at me.

He was definitely not on my list of favorite and/or useful people. Also, I couldn’t believe he repeated my own thoughts to me. “Says the crap-stained dog,” I breathed through my teeth.

Really, I should stop being an idiot.

At that moment, it seemed as though Shin had come to a silent resolution. His eyes lit up, calling to mind a dokkaebi…strangely enough.

“Since I’m sure you won’t be able to pay us back by the deadline, I’ll offer you a deal.”

“I don’t make deals with ggangpae like you.” I shoved him away and walked to a more open space, so that I was standing between Shin and the rest of the thugs. “And I will have the money by the end of the week. Get out.”

Shin Haehyul was a persistent bastard. He grabbed the front of my shirt, yanking me down to his eye level, and I managed to keep my fists hanging at my sides. “Ssangnom-saekki…” he enunciated quietly, looking me straight in the eyes.

I scowled. Who was the fucker calling a common son-of-a-bitch? I may not be proper nobility, but I had my pride.

He smirked triumphantly. “Be a smart man—” he pulled my face even closer to his, expression plainly showing just how little he thought of my intellectual capacity, “and take the fucking deal.”

My fists shook from me clenching them so hard. I knew my control would not slip. I knew it because I had always prided myself in never throwing the first mindlessly angry punch. I knew that.

He flicked the tip of my nose, like I was some amusing teenage delinquent.

So, when my fist did crack into his high cheekbone, all I could think was Fucking ggangpae-sshibal-saekki—what the fuck. And I got into a defensive crouch when the lackeys, in various states of distress, surged forward. Today was a time for my life to go up in flames, wasn’t it?

“Stop,” commanded Shin, still on the ground. I looked at him as he picked up his fedora, licked a trickle of blood off his lip. He was smiling like a fox. That did an excellent job of giving me a very, very bad feeling, so I didn’t drop my stance. The ggangpae head looked up at me, his face a mix of emotions. Arrogance, excitement, triumph.

“For that brainless mistake,” he said nonchalantly, “I’m tripling the money you owe Seogupa. You’ll be paying back your friend’s debt in full. Pathetically ironic, really.”

What?

That fucking…he let me hit him…! “You can’t do that.”

He laughed shortly, and looked at me smugly. “Really.”

“I’m calling the police on you bastards.”

“Ah, the police…” That casual comment held a lot of meaning. Likely the Chief was currently licking Seogupa’s feet, if the whispers of corruption had any merit in them. Besides, there were several too many thugs to beat down to even get to make the phone call.

I could just…run for it…

“Your father is Businessman Yi Dukhwan, isn’t he? Doesn’t he still own that property near Jagalchi?”

Sshibal.

Running was a stupid idea. All my ideas were stupid—normally I would be able to come up with something, short of indebting myself to some other person—in the face of this disaster…this whole fucked-up affair. I was trapped.

Shin Haehyul stood up. “Take the deal, Jihwan. I swear on my father’s name that it is a much better alternative.”

I scoffed, rather weakly. I had to admit it, even if it hurt: my nerves were beyond just shaken. “Fine… Let’s hear it.”

He ordered his posse to stay. Good dogs, those. “In private,” he said, flicking his head toward the storeroom.

Why? I almost asked, but I just let my jaw work furiously as I followed him. He closed the door behind him and I flicked on the dim light. I glanced around at the shelves of neatly organized items, waiting for him to spit out the damn deal, trying to tamp down on the unnerving sensation of sharing this civilian, boring space with the ggangpae.

“Hey, Jihwan,” he said casually, like we were students again, friends on talking terms, or something. “Give me your hands.”

I made a “why the hell?” face, but I figured he was harmless. I mean, I didn’t need hands—if anything were to happen to them—to effectively defend myself. And he didn’t seem to carry around a knife or any other sort of extraneous weapons that would give him an edge. I held my hands out, palms facing up. Maybe he was going to write on them, or give me a piece of paper or some other contract.

What I did not expect was for him to grab and pin them—fuck, he had a strong grip—to the wall behind me, to grind into me and cover my lips—if I wasn’t mistaken—in a kiss.

A fucking kiss.

This man. This ggangpae who was clearly male…

Kissing me, a fellow man, like I was his little whore or something.

…The fuck…?!

The shock rendered me completely still for a moment. Utterly shameful, for a guy whose instinct was to act, act, act when something mind-boggling like this happened. This was wrong, disgusting, completely and utterly amoral. But strangely, I wasn’t as repulsed as I should have been. Visions of a family, of a dutiful, pretty-enough wife and three kids, flashed before me, and I knew that that was what I wanted, what I was going to have. But not…right now…?

I’d just regained the sense to close my mouth, when he grinned—not so nonchalantly, though—and leaned back. I didn’t bother to mask my horrified incredulity. He knew what was at stake, what he had just done. This wasn’t as simple as a brief scuffle or a short stint in jail. Fuck no, it wasn’t.

“Your work for Seogupa will pay for a fraction of your debt. And every after-hours service you perform for me? 100 thousand won. Who knows? Pay might go up if you do particularly well.”

And he said that this was better than the alternative? A whore. A paid male whore.

I let out a huff of laughter. Then a series of even more incredulous laughter. This was fucking amusing. Just…what in the world was my life coming to? Allowing this undisciplined ggangpae-saekki to try to talk me into this shit. What the fuck was I supposed to do with my pride? Throw it down on the dirt and stomp on it? Swallow it and shit it out? Let the depraved bastard kiss it goodbye?

“Don’t be such a stick-up-the-ass yangban idiot. Your damn pride won’t suffer that much. Only you and I and maybe a couple of my most loyal boys will know about the affair.”

“Perverted bastard…” I couldn’t get more out before he kissed me again. Why wasn’t I struggling? Because, honestly, I was actually considering it. Call me a hypocrite, whatever. But I had had random thoughts before, of going back to living life with reckless abandon. Feel like a troublesome kid again. Did it matter now, that I was engaging in this taboo…?

Shin Haehyul pulled away again, panting lightly. “So?”

I didn’t know what exactly I was getting into. I had to care. I had to look after myself. But this…this was an easy way. I would make it easy. Hah. Where could I have gotten the 15 million won, anyway? Who had I been kidding? Fucking lies. Was Shin even serious about the 15 mil? I wanted to pull at my hair. The prospect of so many “after-hours services”…whatever they entailed.

Shin watched my face as I leafed through every thought, every fear, every damn thing in my mind that could convince me, that could smoothly get me out of both options…I blinked and glanced away, defeated. “Deal…”

He smirked. “Better get ready to work your ass off, Yi Jihwan…of Busan City High, class 2-4.”

INFO:

* ggangpae (깡패): Korean gang/mobsters, hooligans. Variations include jopok (조폭), gundal (건달), and, derogatively, yangachee (양아치).
* maknae (막내): The youngest in age of siblings, in a group, etc.
* yangban (양반): Literally, “both classes”; the upper-classes/nobility/aristocracy of old Korea.
* sshibal (씨발): One of the most popular/used Korean swear words. Doesn’t really have an English equivalent, but has roughly the same emphasis as “fuck,” though without the sexual connotation. I’m going to be using both words, gratuitously.
* ajumma (아줌마): Married woman, or woman who looks old enough to get married. This stereotypical label portrays tough, sometimes mean, women who often have a trademark short, curly perm.
* keunjip (큰집): Literally means “big house.” The house where the patriarch resides, the physical focus of an immediate family.
* dokkaebi (도깨비): Mischievous, and mostly harmless, spirit of Korean folklore.
* ssangnom-saekki (쌍놈 새끼): Ssangnom is a very pejorative word for “commoner”. Saekki, in bad-language terms, means something akin to “son of a bitch,” though it usually just means a “newborn (animal)” or “baby”.

* Names are in Korean (Asian) style, with family name coming first.
* Seo-gu (서구) is one of the districts in Busan (부산), the second largest city in South Korea.
* “-pa (-파)” refers to a group or a mob. So “Seogupa (서구파)” would be the name of the gang controlling the Seo-gu district.
* 1000 Won (원) = 1 USD (completely disregarding historical exchange rates). Okay, I’m sorry, I admit that I have no idea if $5000 is a reasonable sum for a loan in early 1980s S. Korea.
* “Crap (dung)-stained dog (똥 묻은 개)” is one-third of a Korean saying that’s equivalent to “pot calling the kettle black.”
* Jagalchi (자갈치) Fish Market, in Seo-gu, Busan, right next to the sea.

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