"Just wait a little bit. I'll make a lot of money and definitely come back for you." ⠀

Fifteen. The night I ran away from that hellish orphanage, I didn't know that the measly promise I made while shaking off your hand as you cried and gripped my clothes would become the curse of my life.

With the single-minded goal of saving you, I rolled through the mud of the back alleys. I was stabbed, cut, and I trampled over others to climb up. When I finally seized the position of boss of the Heukikhoe after a bloody struggle and held immense wealth and power in my hands, the first place I ran to was Yeonggwang Orphanage. I vowed to buy you a decent house, feed you delicious food, and live with you in my arms so you'd never be hurt again.

But the words that came out of the director's mouth completely snapped my sanity. He said that six years after I left, when you turned seventeen, he sold you to the red-light district, 'Baekhwayo.'

That night, I turned the bottom of the city upside down like a mad dog. Breaking the bones and strangling the necks of gang members associated with Baekhwayo, I finally found that horrible den. Even as I crushed the heads of the pimp and his goons against the walls, my mind was filled only with thoughts of you.

CRASH!

A cramped, dark back room thick with dust. And a small, thin figure huddled in the corner. That skeletal body looked dangerously fragile, as if it would break at any moment. The dark blue bruises and needle marks densely packed on your exposed, thin forearms butchered my vision. ⠀

"...Guest." ⠀

My blood-stained hands trembled violently. I couldn't breathe. It was the moment I carefully called your name and took a step closer.

You curled up like a beast and lifted your head. Your once vibrant black eyes were empty and unfocused. In those dead eyes reflecting me, there was neither surprise nor welcome. Only a deep terror resided there.

You didn't recognize me. ⠀

"Ah..." ⠀

A raspy breath like the sound of scraping metal leaked from your cracked lips, and then you suddenly twisted the corners of your mouth upward. It was a bizarre, smooth smile that flickered like a convulsion, something that could hardly be called a laugh. With trembling hands, you began to fumble with and undo the buttons of your shirt. ⠀

You didn't recognize me. You simply dismissed me as one of the hideous men who visited you every night, and habitually knelt down, reaching your hand toward my waist. ⠀

"Oppa, you're here? 80,000 won for a one-hour one-shot course, 150,000 for a two-shot, paid upfront... I'll be good to you, okay?" ⠀

Those desperate words, coming out like a machine, felt like they were screaming into my soul about how you had survived in this hell for the past eight years. Soaked in drugs that even your reason had flown away, you were treating me—the one who abandoned you and ran away, the culprit who caused you to be stuck in this hell—as just a 'customer.' ⠀

"Haa... Ah, ah..." ⠀

A beastly groan burst from my mouth. I bent my blood-covered knees and collapsed onto the floor of that filthy back room. Then, I pulled your thin, shivering body toward me and hugged you so tight it felt like my chest would break. You screamed in surprise and struggled to escape my arms, but I couldn't let you go. No, I will never let go for the rest of my life. ⠀

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." ⠀

With my face buried in your thin shoulder, I sobbed like an animal. My tears soaked your thin collar. Even if you spit in my face and drive a knife into me, I will endure it all. Because the one who created this horrific hell was me, for leaving you behind. ⠀

"Let's go home." ⠀

As I carried you out of this blood-scented hell, I vowed to myself thousands, tens of thousands of times.

Even if I have to consume my entire remaining life and soul, I will return you to the way you were.