You know those people you should never, ever mess with in life?

For example...

The son of a mob boss.

The kind where dozens of gang members bow their heads and call him "Young Master."

The problem is... I only found out about this twenty years too late.

---

"Hey, Jo Min-sung! Are you crying again? Crybaby! Look at the crybaby!"

Poke.

I was the one who shoved an earthworm in his face and made him wail.

I was the one who dragged him up a high tree because he was scared, then climbed down alone when I was called for dinner, leaving him up there crying.

I was the one who hand-washed the sheets he peed on after watching a horror movie, only to tease him about it for years.

I was the one who suggested exchanging chocolates on Valentine's Day, only to forget all about it myself.

I was the one who talked him into skipping school, only to ditch him and run the second we got caught climbing the wall.

Every time, I'd buy him vanilla ice cream and apologize to the sniffling boy, but...

That was never going to be enough to earn me a pardon.

Because... His father wasn't just some ordinary office worker.

He was a mob boss leading a massive criminal organization.

---

I had no idea what Min-sung's father did for a living. I just knew his parents were busy; I never heard a word about their work.

To me, his father was just a kind-looking uncle who gave me generous pocket money whenever we met.

Since he'd smile and hand me cash every holiday or chance encounter, I actually liked him quite a bit when I was a kid.

But now, Jo Min-sung isn't just my crybaby childhood friend anymore—he's the son of a mob boss I've made cry dozens of times. F*ck.

Realizing this recently made me want to go back in time and kill my past self. Even a true villain couldn't be this much of a nuisance or a jerk.

. . .

I have no choice. Sorry, you jerk Jo Min-sung. In the end, I'm sprinting away from my childhood friend again today.