Mine,Even If You Run

Jae’s POV

The next morning, I woke to find the sun already high. It was the weekend, which meant a holiday for Seon, but in the restaurant business, weekends were the most grueling, crowded days of the week.

I set to work cooking breakfast. A month ago, I wouldn’t have known where to start in a kitchen, but I had taught myself out of necessity, for my own survival, and for my brother’s.

Once the meal was ready, I woke Seon and prepared to leave. I needed him to be alert, as he was the one who had to lock the door from the inside the moment I stepped out.

By the time I reached the restaurant, the morning rush was already in full swing. Just as I had anticipated, customers were pouring in.

I spent the morning on my feet as a waiter, and when that shift finally ended, I headed straight into the kitchen to begin washing a mountain of dishes.

While I was working, a customer approached me with a suggestion. He told me that if I was truly desperate for money, I should look into Club Hollow.

He described the roles there as being similar to waitstaff, but with significantly higher pay. He even offered to recommend me, suggesting I show up that very evening.

I don’t know much about the world outside my own struggle, but the name Dark City, the district where Club Hollow is located, rang a bell.

I remembered hearing rumors back in school that Dark City was a lawless place where illegal trades flourished. Some whispered that it was a hub for arms dealing, overseen by a mysterious and powerful figure.

I wondered if those stories were just urban legends. After all, if such a place truly existed, wouldn’t the police have raided it by now?

Regardless of the risks, the promise of better pay was too tempting to ignore. Since the man said he would be there to meet me, I decided to take the chance.

I told Seon not to wait up for me for dinner and caught the bus to Dark City. The moment I stepped off the bus, a heavy sense of unease settled over me; I felt as though eyes were tracking my every move, shadows following me through the dim streets.

After asking several locals for directions, most of whom looked at me with cold indifference, I finally found Club Hollow. However, my progress was halted immediately.

The guards stationed at the entrance were massive, looking more like statues of muscle than men, and they flatly refused to let me pass.

I stood there, helpless and unsure of what to do, when suddenly,

“Oh, you actually made it, Jae.”

I glanced beside me to find the same man who had eaten at the restaurant earlier that morning. He gave a sharp nod to the guards.

“He’s with me,” he said, ushering me inside.

Once we were through the doors, I realized he wasn’t just a regular; he was the manager of the club. It explained why he was so confident about hiring me.

I knew I shouldn’t be so quick to trust a stranger, but I told myself that working as a waiter here was a thousand times better than the alternative, the degrading price I’d had to pay to the landlord just for a roof over our heads.

The manager spoke to me gently, leading me to the staff room where he introduced me to the other workers. I changed into the waiter’s uniform and he handed me a heavy silver tray. On it sat a bottle of Balkan 176 vodka and a set of crystal glasses.

“Take this to VIP Room No. 22,” he instructed.

I nodded, steeling myself. This was the start of my new life. Room 22 was located on the second floor. I took the elevator up, the weight of the tray straining my arms.

When the doors opened, I stepped out into a hallway that smelled of expensive cologne and tobacco. I scanned the numbers and finally found the room at the far end of the corridor.

I knocked softly before attempting to enter. A few minutes passed before the door finally swung open. A man in a sharp suit stood there, his hair a striking shade of green. He narrowed his eyes, looking at me as if I were an intruder who had no business being there.

“What are you waiting for? Come in,” he snapped.

I flinched at his tone and hurried inside, but the sight that met me brought me to a dead halt.

Spread across the central table was an arsenal of weaponry, pistols, rifles, and long-range firearms I couldn’t even name.

Three bodyguards stood like stone statues behind the green-haired man. Swallowing my fear, I moved to the side table, set down the heavy tray, and began pouring the vodka into crystal glasses.

A man sat at the head of the room, draped in an imposing black trench coat over a dark shirt and trousers. His hands were covered in gloves, and his boots were polished to a mirror shine.

As I handed him a glass, I noticed a young boy sitting beside him, he looked no older than Seon. The man had his arm wrapped tightly around the boy’s shoulders.

On a separate sofa, another man was meticulously inspecting one of the firearms; I stepped forward and handed him a glass as well.

“Mr. Chan, I don’t think your KRISS Vector Gen II has the same stopping power as the units from the other dealers,” the man on the sofa remarked, his voice cold and analytical.

The air in the room felt thick with danger. Having completed my task, I bowed my head and quickly slipped out of the room.

The atmosphere was heavy enough to make it suffocating. And those guns… don’t tell me this club is involved in illegal things. Does the manager know about it? I wanted to ask him when I got back, but I didn’t dare, it was just my first day.

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