‘Room 404’

Could a dangerous criminal or someone really be hiding out here…?

Hanna tried her best to shake off the thought, but to her frustration, her legs refused to budge another inch.

Why was she more terrified of the simple darkness than of this unpredictable, enigmatic man…?

As Hanna tightened her grip on her bag strap, a faint rattling sound echoed from within it. She looked down and spotted her digital camera peeking through a gap in the unzipped opening.

Instantly, the memory of what had happened back at the beach flooded her mind, and as her eyes remained glued to the camera, a heavy gust of wind suddenly pushed against her back.

Stumbling slightly from the force of the breeze, Hanna ultimately hurried after Beomgyo, heading into the motel.

With nothing but pitch-black, endless roads surrounding her, she found herself wanting to pin her hopes on that dangerously flickering sign, if only for a shred of light.

Contrary to its completely peeling exterior, the motel lobby was remarkably clean.

Passing a long front desk, Hanna was taking in the antique interior decor when she called out to Beomgyo, who was pulling open the door of a commercial refrigerator filled with drinks and liquor.

“Are you… not that kind of person, mister? The predictable kind who gathers in places good for hiding…?”

Beomgyo, who had just grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, froze. Instead of an answer, a dry, raspy chuckle escaped his lips as he twisted the cap open with a sharp click.

“Calling me ‘mister’ at my age is a bit harsh, don’t you think?”

“I-I don’t know your name, so…”

Granted, the man walking toward her didn’t look nearly old enough to be called ‘mister.’

Yet, he didn’t seem young enough for her to address him casually either, so she had chosen the title after careful deliberation—though his expression made it glaringly obvious that he hated it.

However, having absolutely no intention of sharing his name or his age, the man stepped right up to her and simply thrust the open water bottle forward.

“The owner here is a doctor. Naturally, no records will be left behind.”

“…”

“You said you couldn’t go to a hospital.”

Can I actually trust his words? Instead of taking the bottle, Hanna narrowed her eyes into a suspicious glare.

Faced with her blatant distrust, Beomgyo suddenly clamped his hand tightly around the clear plastic bottle.

“…!”

The moment water erupted violently from the opening, Hanna instinctively squeezed her eyes shut. She braced herself for the impact of cold water striking her face, but contrary to her expectations, a solid grip clamped down on her chin and yanked her head back.

Staring down into Hanna’s wide, startled eyes, Beomgyo squeezed both of her cheeks firmly, murmuring in a low, gravelly voice.

“I don’t have a thing for kids either, so let’s keep our eyes wide open. You’ve been acting pretty f*cking annoying since earlier.”

Without giving her a single second to protest, he slowly poured the water from the bottle between her parted teeth.

The thick blood that the napkins hadn’t managed to absorb mixed with the cold water, forcing Hanna to swallow it down in a hard gulp.

“Ugh…”

A sudden wave of intense nausea surged up her throat, causing her features to contort in disgust. Only then did Beomgyo release his grip on her chin, chin-flicking toward the restroom sign attached to the small corridor next to the counter.

“Go wash your mouth out.”

Watching her back as she hurriedly covered her mouth and scrambled away, Beomgyo lowered his gaze to his damp pants.

It was just water that had splashed when he clamped down on the bottle, but the front of his pants, bulging distinctly along the shape of his d*ck, seemed to ask if that was all it was.

The image of Hanna’s face—clumsily spilling water through her teeth because she couldn’t even swallow a few gulps properly—flashed across his mind again, causing the stark outline against his fabric to twitch aggressively.

“What a f*cking joke.”

Getting worked up over a kid. Beomgyo let out an absurd, mocking laugh at his own lower half, which was completely out of sync with his mind.

“Aaah~”

“Ah…”

Hanna opened her mouth wider, following the lead of the woman sitting across from her.

After spitting out the blood-soaked, soggy napkins in the restroom Beomgyo had pointed out and rinsing her mouth, Yang Miju—the owner of the motel—had seated her at the lobby table.

“Your wisdom tooth came in late. The flesh got caught and torn right there.”

Hanna didn’t know whether to believe the woman, who looked to be in her mid-forties, when she claimed she used to be a renowned plastic surgeon in the Gangnam area, but with no other choice, a hook-like needle slid into her mouth.

“If we leave it as it is, you’ll keep irritating it and it’ll get infected, so let’s just do two quick stitches, okay?”

In truth, getting slapped was a common occurrence back at Yale. But at most, it had resulted in a split lip; she had never bled like this before.

She had felt something bothering the inside of her cheek for a while now, and it seemed that it had been her wisdom tooth.

“Ngh.”

“Don’t move, sweetie.”

When Hanna’s shoulders flinched as her mind drifted, Miju firmly checked her.

But despite the local anesthesia, the sensation of the delicate flesh inside her cheek being tugged along with the thread was thoroughly unbearable. As the needle pierced through once more, a shiver ran up to the crown of her head, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut tightly.

Looking at her childlike reaction, Miju let out a soft chuckle.

“The stitches will dissolve in about two weeks. I’ll pack some antibiotics and painkillers for you, so make sure you take them properly, alright?”

With a snip, Miju cut the thread, offering her gentle advice as she cleaned up the tray. Her kindness, however, seemed reserved exclusively for patients; as she stood up from her seat, she glared at Beomgyo as if she wanted to murder him.

Beomgyo, who had just pulled out a cigarette, cocked an eyebrow as if asking what her problem was, prompting Miju to mutter through gritted teeth.

“Keep it in check. A grown-ass adult laying hands on a kid, f*ck…”

Swallowing back the rest of the harsh words that felt ready to burst out, Miju bit her lip. She turned around, kicking the toe of Beomgyo’s completely motionless shoe, and disappeared behind the curtain hanging inside the counter.

Hanna, who had been staring at the fluttering curtain, only turned her eyes back to Beomgyo upon hearing the sharp flick of his lighter.

Did he really bring me all the way here purely for medical treatment?

Hanna questioned silently, pressing a balled-up tissue against her numb lips.

Meanwhile, Beomgyo finished lighting his cigarette, closed the cap of his Zippo with a snap, and looked up.

Through his teeth, from which thick smoke slowly spiraled out, a heavily subdued voice followed.

“You remember that older guy wearing that kind of shirt at the club earlier, right?”

When she looked up where he pointed with a jerk of his chin, she saw a large bird-of-paradise leaf drooping down.

The wall happened to be bright red, making it incredibly easy for Hanna to recall the tacky Hawaiian shirt.

“Ah… Yes.”

As she gave a small nod, Beomgyo leaned his body against the back of the chair and continued.

“That guy is the owner of that club. And to me, he’s a boss.”

Hanna’s eyes widened instantly. After all, if he was the owner of Club Heaven, it meant that man was Yeji’s older brother.

The club interior had been too dark for her to remember details, but the man who had been hurling insults at Beomgyo’s back had looked to be around the same age as the doctor from earlier.

Of course, she had heard from Yeji that there was a large age gap between her and her brother… but was he really that old?

Thoroughly bewildered, Hanna unconsciously kept rubbing her lips, while Beomgyo took a deep drag of his cigarette and let out a short tsk.

“As if causing a scene at the venue wasn’t enough, if word gets out that I couldn’t even shut a kid’s mouth, I’m going to be completely f*cked.”

“Shut my mouth… What do you mean?”

“That godforsaken flower. The drug. ‘Oasis’.”

When the name ‘Oasis’ was explicitly mentioned on top of the flower, Hanna’s face drained of all color.

Her heart began to pound wildly like a guilty criminal’s. The sound of that violent pulse thudded in her ears as Beomgyo’s voice forced its way through.

“I’m planning to cover your mouth with money, so name your price. How much will it take?”

Pressing the tissue harder against her lips, Hanna replied, “I really don’t know what that is… truly!”

“You just heard it, so what do you mean you don’t know?”

“That’s…”

“You should at least pretend to know by now. Pulling away before you even know how much I’m willing to give… like a total idiot.”

Despite claiming he wanted to buy her silence, the man let out a scoff, as if neither the flower nor Oasis was any grand secret to begin with.

He then used a fingertip to drag the ashtray sitting on one side of the table closer.

In that brief split second, Hanna deliberated.

If his goal is to keep me quiet, should I just name a reasonable amount and take it? Would that keep me from ever crossing paths with this man again?

“I don’t… need money.”

However, the conclusion of her brief deliberation was a refusal. No, rather than a refusal, she actually wanted to ask for something else instead of money.

Just as Hanna parted her lips again, an unexpected counter-question dropped.

“Why. Because you’re going to die anyway?”

As her brows knitted tightly in confusion, Beomgyo, who had just crushed the shortened cigarette butt into the ashtray, cast a sharp look at her.

Could it be…?

The moment his gaze landed on the bag she had set down beside her, the suicide note written by Yeji inside it flashed through Hanna’s mind.

Reflexively snatching the bag and clutching it tightly to her chest, Hanna looked up with trembling eyes and asked, “Did you… see it?”

It had been pure coincidence that Beomgyo had spotted the envelope among the items that had spilled from her bag when she was knocked down.

Recalling the word ‘Will’ carelessly scribbled across the envelope, Beomgyo remembered how Hanna had hesitantly given him her name earlier.

[Duna… no. Sena. Kim Sena.]

For someone like Beomgyo, who had been through all kinds of hell, it was harder not to notice a kid’s clumsy lie.

Since she had claimed she couldn’t even get medical treatment under her own name, she must have her reasons for insisting on a pseudonym.

“Don’t worry. I have no interest in another person’s dying wishes.”

Seeing that she had gone as far as writing a will, her circumstances might very well be heavy enough to warrant contemplating death. But to feel pity by wondering how hard it must be for a kid or what on earth could have happened—there wasn’t a single soul in this underworld without a sob story, and Beomgyo wasn’t particularly curious.

“And I don’t have the time to indulge a kid’s reckless bravado.”

Especially since the woman before him was young.

Even without knowing her exact age, the fact that she referred to him as ‘mister’ was proof enough.

Assuming entirely on his own that she was merely putting on a pathetic show of pride typical of her age, Beomgyo flicked the cigarette butt he had been playing with into the ashtray.

“What, is it not bravado? Then what, when are you planning to die?”

A mocking, malicious smirk played on his lips as he pulled out a billfold from his back pocket and added, “If you’re going to die anyway, what’s the point of dragging it out? Just make it today. I’ll make sure your corpse is cleaned up neatly.”

Opening the crisp leather wallet, he tossed a single keycard onto the table.

Room 404. As if that was exactly where she belonged to die.