I Became a Monster in a T*ash Game

It felt like I was under some spell. No matter how I calculated and moved the stones, within just a few turns I was invariably surrounded. Whether it was luck or Joo-o’s skill in anticipating moves, I have no idea. In any case, I lost every game until the last board—then clicked my tongue and packed up.
Well, thinking back, Joo-o did have a knack for solving those twisted wire puzzles. Maybe all his scarce intellect is poured into this sort of thing.
“Let’s get out. We need to register our IDs before we go in.”
At last the truck stopped in front of Seogyeong City. Unlike the time I’d been treated like a VIP by stonecutters, this time I was just a mercenary dropping by on a job.
I smoothed my sweat-free hair and held the pad’s lens close. Thanks to my formal registration in Goryeo City, Joo-o passed through the checkpoint relatively smoothly. As always, we couldn’t get into Central; we booked lodging outside the official residential zone—for only three nights. I needed to find Banya’s contact within that window.
[Message Send Failed]
Delivery returned for the following reasons:
/Connection Delay/ or /Recipient Unavailable/
Damn. It wasn’t easy. Though Banya had given me a contact, the code must’ve changed—messages bounced back. Now it was pure needle-in-a-haystack in Goryeo City. I could narrow suspects by scanning every registered citizen from the last twenty years, but this place wasn’t my territory. To avoid suspicious glances, I’d need more than three days—probably a month—to pin someone down. I urgently needed a new lead.
“Finally, we meet.”
“Who?”
“Meat skewers.”
Whether I was at my wit’s end or not, Joo-o looked ecstatic—he was already clamoring for meat.
“Jin Muhae. My wages.”
“You don’t have wages.”
“Then pocket money.”
When he begged for cash, I handed over a few dil—three hundred, foolishly—and as soon as we unpacked, he bolted out. Minutes later he returned reeking of familiar spices, chewing something with a grin. From then on, every chance he got a skewer popped out of his bag—truly the resurrection of the cursed meat skewers.
‘I should’ve given him only a hundred dil.’
He’d already blown half the budget on food. Even if most of his haul was cheap bread and cereal, his daily gluttony kept the budget teetering. Oblivious to my sour glance, Joo-o hummed happily—then a stray skewer emerged again.
“Wanna some, Jin Muhae?”
“Put it away.”
Meanwhile the sun set, and we ended our first day with no progress, crashing in a shabby, musty motel room. Pulling back the curtains revealed a filthy alley—no hope for a city view.
“Ugh.”
Joo-o opened the bathroom door, saw no tub, and looked disappointed. He’d liked splashing around in bubbles. Muttering, he brandished the shower hose like a snake.
“Stop fooling around and wash.”
“I will.”

“Don’t climb into bed until you scrub yourself clean.”
Only then did water sounds start behind the closed door. Occasionally I heard his chuckles—annoying, but I averted my eyes. I pounded my pad, refocusing. Seogyeong City was small enough that mercenaries here still ran missions to Goryeo City. I planned to track down anyone I knew. Explaining why I was hunting a Solar City transplant could be tricky…
‘If I make a fuss, I’ll get marked here, too.’
Since learning about the homecoming, nothing had gone smoothly. Though things always ended well, I’d had to scramble. That damned blue-haired brat even coveted Joo-o. Luck was luck, but it was a filthy, ambiguous thing—like one of those half-hearted “Tinkle Friends” toys that grant wishes so poorly they haunt you.
“I’m back!”
“Already? Did you really wash?”
“Of course.”
Joo-o, in a white tee, shook his damp hair and crawled onto the bed, resting his head on my shoulder. The faint scent of cheap amenities still lingered.
“Go to sleep first.”
“I’ll sleep when you do.”
“When did I ever plan to sleep?”
“Shall I make you?”
I ignored the joke—he took it as a yes, patting my thigh and humming an eerie, lyricless lullaby. The absurdity of him trying to lull me to sleep made me curious how far he’d go, so I let him be.
…
I woke in the predawn to find the light on and myself still upright. Joo-o, who promised to put me to bed, had already crashed, clutching my leg. I’d been scanning intel until shortly past midnight, and I must have nodded off. I pushed the pad aside and draped the blanket over him—then noticed my Link Watch on my wrist.
…Come to think of it, when I was in Gaeseong City I contacted Kang. The signal cut out, so “contacted” is generous, but at least the message sent—unlike here. Kang was in Gaeseong City, and his Link Watch still had the homing feature installed.
Tick. I flicked on the cheap nightlight, and the darkness dimmed. After a moment’s hesitation, I keyed the watch’s stored code into the signal receiver.
[>>>]
[>>>]
[>>>]
I wondered if Kang had removed the receiver after ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ last time. But no—my connection attempts still went through. I glanced at sleeping Joo-o, clenched the silent watch, and then—Dii-... Tto...!
“…!”
A familiar notification chimed and my wrist vibrated. I startled upright, then froze when I recognized Joo-o’s warm head.
Crackle—static hissed from the call. Soon after, I heard clicks as someone tapped their desk.
…Jin Muhae? Is that you?
A slightly hoarse male voice crackled through the tiny speaker. My heart pounded.
“Kang, I presume. You knew it was me all along.”
I heard the news. Still, I didn’t expect you to come here and reach out.
Indeed, trying Kang’s number from Seogyeong City was almost whimsical. Sitting in that glitzy hotel had made me sentimental, I suppose. At any rate, I learned his whereabouts and now had this chance to talk—a stroke of luck.
If I didn’t know it was you, who do you think paid your last lodging fee?
“…The Company?”
You’d think they wouldn’t waste money on mercenaries. Maybe I’m just too soft.
His muttering felt like a blow to the head. That courteous Company agent, the lavish treatment—it was all Kang’s goodwill. My forced calm nearly cracked.
“Could we meet?” I blurted, afraid the signal would drop again. He paused—seconds of silence, then a thoughtful hum.
Well… if I really wanted to meet, wouldn’t I have arranged it already?
“I understand. It’s not an easy decision.”
For someone newly risen, you sure know how to flatter. That I sort of like.
His chuckle gave way to firm tap-tap-tap sounds—wood, I realized, as if he were tapping a solid desk. I pictured a proper piece of furniture: Kang must be up at his desk, not sleeping at all.
To be honest, I won’t get involved. I cut ties with Goryeo City long ago.
“…”
And you’re reckless. If I held any grudge, why would I answer your call unthinkingly?
His tone turned serious—advice veiled in a firm boundary.
‘Don’t expect someone from your past to share your ambitions today. More people will doubt you than support you.’
Kang’s warning echoed in my mind. Though calling him before felt rash, now I had some certainty.
“I have backers who can tip me off to dangers in advance,” I said.
You’ve grown your operation, I see.
“Let’s just say I’ve moved past the stage of striking out blind.”
Far from it—I still scramble every day. But my hollow bravado sounded more credible over this ancient watch. The taps stopped, replaced by a mocking sigh.
I won’t get tangled up. But if there’s something light I can do from Seogyeong City, consider it a favor.
“Even just for someone I know’s kid.”
Exactly. That’s about as much goodwill as I’ve got.
He’d effectively refused—but it was more than enough. I smiled, leaning back against the headboard. A path forward had suddenly appeared.
“I’ve come to find someone: a middle-class man from Solar City who enrolled in research back then.”
Solar City, huh? That’s not insignificant.
“Even so, any small piece of help is welcome.”
Kang grumbled, then offered a plan.
I do know a few ex-researchers. I’ll set up an introduction, then step back. The rest is up to you.
“That will be sufficient.”
I’d unexpectedly gained the stepping-stone I needed. I glanced down—Joo-o still oblivious in sleep. What a carefree kid. I clicked my tongue and repositioned the nightlight. As shadows darkened his face, his lazy breathing deepened into peaceful slumber.