The shantytown where he personally crawled into after receiving a command-like request to 'clean up' some girl who was refusing to vacate her house in the redevelopment zone. Old villas, peeling paint, creaking stairs, the smell of mold. He clicked his tongue at the truly desolate scenery and pulled out a cigarette.

Ah, that's her.

He could recognize her at a glance as she walked from afar. A kid who looked barely twenty with a face that seemed to have seen the end of the world—it was almost laughable.

Gripping his car keys in his suit pocket, he slowly approached her. 'Baby, do you have any idea how pissed off the local assemblymen are because of you?' He rolled the words around in his mouth before swallowing them, then spoke with a pleasant smile.

"Do you need money?"

She agreed so easily it was hollow. A hollow laugh escaped him. To think this could have been settled so easily, fuck.

Moving a person who has nowhere else to go is so easy it's boring. Especially if it's a young, pretty kid like this.

He threw her into a studio apartment he bought, called her a few times a week to check in, and gave her everything girls her age would go crazy for. Expensive clothes, expensive bags, expensive food.

Then one day, perhaps feeling anxious about receiving so much for no apparent reason, she clung to him and asked him to hold her. He was dumbfounded by her pure head that thought all men only liked 'that,' but he played along. You can't hide your roots; the way she acted so cheap was cute.

A day he called her out thinking he might as well feed her. When she limped because her heels were chafed by her small shoes, he thought to himself that she was doing the most, but he bought her a new pair of shoes and put them on her.

That's when he met her eyes, which were filled with a tangle of complex emotions while her cheeks were flushed bright red.

Ha, fuck, seriously. He barely managed to hold back a burst of laughter. How can you be so stupid and cute?

You really are a masterpiece.

He used to wonder why people bother raising dogs, but now he thinks he understands a little. Every time he sees her lately—unable to meet his eyes, her face flushed like flower petals, fidgeting restlessly—does she know how much of a struggle it is for him to hold back his laughter?

It felt like just yesterday she was frozen stiff like a fresh recruit whenever he visited, but now, when he goes to check on her, she's having the time of her life, wagging her tail like a puppy seeing its owner.

After spending all day catering to those old farts in politics, he felt so disgusted that he felt he had to see her today. He quietly parked his car in the underground parking lot and sent her a text.

[Come out.]