Chapter 10: My Name Is... (2)

Warning! This chapter has adult-restricted contents such as the use of vulgar languages, violence, intercourse, and might even show the portrayal of harmful activities. Continue at your own risk.

...

The gunshot was the last thing she expected that would greet her at midnight.

The bullet flew the moment a spark came out from the person's hand. She watched it unfold like a movie that shivered the hell out of Young Mirae. It passed as though a thousand camera frames showed before her eyes in slow motion.

"Shit, what am I supposed to do? I fucked up. I fucked it up. I'm so dead, holy macaroni."

She listened to the one customer who combed his hair to the back of his head. He inhaled a sharp breath, sweat was appearing on his forehead as he stood from his seat.

"Fuck bro, what am I going to do!"

"Okay, listen here. We need to calm down first," affirmed the other. He stood beside the man who shot the guy. He then moved to check the guy's dead body. The head laid on the table, his arm was dangling, hanging lifelessly on the edge.

"You know, what? Let's just bring the body in the comfort room, hide it, and tell the leader that he already left."

"Ain't you a genius, Kim Dong!"

"I know, right, Ban Seo?"

The two men agreed to hide the body, however, she would not let them as she recently cleaned the comfort room. How could they talk about dirtying what she had cleaned a minute ago? She took two hours to mop, wipe, and scrub every corner! Not wanting to leave no dirt after the process!

Young Mirae hurried her step and whispered something to the old man who was walking his way back to the counter. "Fake grand-gran, are you serving this type of customer? Are these the ones you are about? These are dangerous people," she chased out.

"And so are you," he asserted.

He was correct, though.

She admitted she was dangerous, but this was outside the matter. This fake grandfather was attending, serving them, knowing they were offenders. Hence, this bar of his might be an underground refreshment place for the criminals.

Yeah, this could be the case! This old man could not be just an ordinary person she thought he was!

"Is this what you've been doing for five years, fake grand-gran? Opening your bar to interact with the criminals?"

Young Mirae stomped her feet as she followed him from behind, but she did not know why she was furious.

Perhaps it was because of the man shooting the other in an accident, then scheming to dump it in the comfort room, which she freshly cleaned. Or possibly, it was because the old man did not inform her ahead about the bar.

"Are you a criminal yourself?" If that was the case then, did her real grand-gran ask this old cloaked grump to take care of him?

"...Make sure the comfort room is clean before I check it."

"What! But they're going to dump a body there. How — where am I supposed to dispose of it? We got no bags!" Young Mirae bolted, she felt the veins in her neck were popping. She slammed her hands on the counter, trying to steal the attention of the old man.

"Then use those large plastic bags at the back."

"You keep on dodging my questions, fake grand-gran. One day, I'm going to unveil the deepest secret of yours." Young Mirae gritted her teeth, growling to the old man who finally lifted his head and looked at her.

He did not give a response as he had a cigarette in his mouth.

He started inhaling it gently, held it in for a second, and puffed the smoke to her face that only fumed her even more. Blinking before opening her eyes, unintentionally inhaling the smoke through her nostrils, she glared straight at his face that lacked any expression.

"And for your information, I will not forget who I am. You can't direct me. You can't dictate what I need to do like a kid," she threw out, leaving him so she could check the situation in the comfort room.

She knew from the beginning that it would be impossible to deal with that old man. Now, Young Mirae suddenly missed her driver — slash — her bodyguard, Bo Kyung. She regretted messing around and making fun of him. She should have treated him well.

'Shit, I really need a smoke.'

She breathed heavily.

Fighting the whimper that was aching to escape from her lips as her eyes were infrequently blinking. She did not want to cry. Young Mirae refused to shed a tear from anger.

Distracting herself, she stormed and fetched for the extra-large plastic bags from the backroom. Just in case the two customers already dumped the body in the comfort room. In concurrency, she also grabbed a transparent tape, which she found sitting on the shelf above the plastic bags.

Advancing her way to the designated place, items were in her hand, she witnessed the two idiots were dragging the single body into the cubicle.

"Oh, shit!" yelped the one who wore a floral printed shirt paired with black trousers, losing his grip on the head of the dead body. It produced a heavy thump that echoed through the comfort room.

"What!" shouted the one who wore a clean white dress shirt.

He grumbled while looking at his floral shirt. His brows drew together when he snapped, "Fuck! I got a bloodstain on my favorite shirt."

"Well, now we both got more in our trousers 'cause you let go of the head, dumbass!"

"Okay, okay. Don't yell. I'm picking him up again, man."

Young Mirae sighed as she observed the pair grappling from dumping the body in the cubicle. They were creating a new mess in her newly cleaned comfort room. Blood splatters painted the tiles with dense wine liquid; they were everywhere.

Why couldn't they discard the dead body with less mess than what they were doing?

"Gah!"

Just when he picked up the head, the sight of Young Mirae standing in the entrance of the comfort room startled the man. He released his grip and dropped it again, eyes were bulging wide with the whites showing.

"What now?!" It was obvious from the veins popping that the other man was losing his mind in his companion.

"Someone's watching us, Ban Seo…"

She stared bloodshot at the idiot pair.

Likewise, the other man called Ban Seo lost his hold on the legs of the body. Puddles of blood showed up after the splatters, decorating the tiles that doubled their sizes. The thick wine sputters graced the cubicle and the faucets.

Now, she had more work to do. Other than extinguishing the pungent smell of blood lingering through the entire room and packing the corpse inside the plastic bags, she also had to leave the comfort room spotless of stains and smudges.

Young Mirae sighed from the towering exhaustion forming in her. Thinking about the work she needed to do before the fake grandfather visited and checked the place worn her out.

"...Excuse me, I'm the janitress," she sighed between her words.

After giving her introduction to the two men, she soon perceived that the one clothed in a white dress shirt attempted to retrieve his gun, which he left sitting on the faucet.

"If I were you, I wouldn't think of taking that. I'm here to help you guys." The boredom seemed to extrude the accommodating tone in her voice.

While both parties shared gazes, one of the two who was wearing the floral shirt inserted, "Nah, we're just going to leave this body here. Since you're the janitress here, you take care of it."

What on earth?

These men were merely a pair of assholes! How could they leave a body and expect her to clean it when they caused it for themselves?!

'These shitty criminals—'

When she was about to protest, the two men hastened out of the comfort room and left her alone. Not leaving another word, they rushed and closed the door behind her.

"What — tsk! Copy that, dickheads!"

She stomped her feet as she walked beside the contorted body lying before the cubicle. Young Mirae smashed the plastic bags and transparent tape she was holding on the floor.

In an instant, the overwhelming and fresh odor welcomed her senses when she squatted on her heels near the dead. There was more than the sweet smell of the dense wine liquid. She also caught the distinct odor of the urine, yet it was too mild enough to discern.

When did he take a leak? Did he pee on himself when those two kidnappers abducted him, or perhaps the horror while sitting along with the criminals at the table made him piss? If he urinated on his seat, then that would be another work for her.

Fuck!

When she thought that the suffering stopped, and believed that she had escaped from it all when she graduated and left Singapore, it got worse when she came home.

Maybe, just maybe. If she did not return, would her family have survived, or would it still end at the same outcome?

Young Mirae shook the gloomy thoughts forming in her mind. Screw these pansies pervading her head. Thinking and regretting would just make her all depressed. Instead of showing signs of bleakness and being cheerless, she would rather start planning for her revenge.

But how?

Oh, wait, right!

What about her grandfather's will? She had not yet received any news about it from the fake grand-gran. But if there was, it would not help her as much because her opponents might found her before she could make a sensible and concrete plan.

What she needed the most was a companion. A loyal individual who would never betray her. Considering she lost her phone, she could not contact the sole person she had in her mind at the moment.

How would she be able to make a loyal comrade?

Where could she find one?