Per Confucius: "Virtue is not solitary; it must have neighbors."

The yellow flowers of the gaenari swayed in the faintly-hazy blue sky. The flowers' meaning was said to be a bid farewell to those about to embark on a journey; however, today, even that much felt somehow hollow and superficial.

"Hajun-bocchama, I do hope that you stay well and take care."

"Yes. I'll never see you again."

He had firmly refused to be seen off at the airport. The last sight that Chungsung would be permitted to imprint upon his memory was that of Hajun's back as he passed through the gates of the property would be.

Baek Chungsung, twenty years old. Yeon Hajun, thirteen. It was around the time of early spring.

"I suppose... one could call this the ultimate form of neglect play^[1], no? Hehehe."

"Stop muttering and saying creepy things."

As he turned around to look at Chungsung, Hajun's freezing-cold gaze pierced right through him. His eyes were, beyond a doubt, those of a ruler. That cold light that dwelled within the blood of the Yeon family. For Chungsung, that light was a comfort; and yet a moment later, it was cast instead towards the far side of the gates.

"How," Hajun said, "can you even act as though this is 'neglect play'? You're the one who's abandoning me, aren't you?"

"By no means. I am simply--"

"Obeying your master's orders, right? Alright. Got it. In the end... the one you've been serving hasn't been me at all, but instead, the Yeon family."

Chungsung could find no words to respond to that. It was, after all, true.

On this day, Yeon Hajun would depart for Japan, where he would be "studying abroad". It was perhaps fair, however, to say that he and the problems that accompanied him were being brushed under the rug.

Hajun had gone to to grueling, painstaking extents in his dedication to become heir of the Yeon family. Despite being met with cold reception as the bastard child of a mistress, he had strived to prove his own worth. But when the legitimate Mrs. Yeon gave birth to their first child, all of Hajun's effort amounted to nought. All of the parental love and the expectations from those around him were at once put upon the "legitimate wife's child" instead of him. Though he continued to put up a respectable fight for some years, he could not overcome the power of blood lineage. It was a problem of love; put another way, a problem of emotion. Just as Hajun had said, Chungsung served the Yeon family above all else, and he had no way of swaying the master's mind.

Hajun did not look back again. His final words to the man who had taken care of him came as he faced away.

"Be my guest; wag your tail as much as you want. But do it for 'the heir of the Yeon family', not for me."

Chungsung kept his head bowed until Hajun's retreating figure was well out of sight. Eventually, he slowly straightened back up and returned to his regular duties.

When Chungsung opened the front door of the mansion, six-year-old Yeon Dongha was looking up at him with anxious eyes.

Chaebol -- in Japanese, "zaibatsu", or a financial conglomerate^[2]. It's a corporate structure wherein the parent company controls countless subsidiaries, and subsidiaries of those subsidiaries, through its shareholdings. To the Japanese mind, it may be roughly compared to the handful of extremely powerful corporate groups that exist in Japan as well; but in South Korea, the influence of these conglomerates reaches far beyond what other countries can easily imagine, even extending into politics. They are the aristocracy of a capitalist society, the absolute pinnacle of an overwhelming economic system.

And of these groups, one of the key players was the Yeon family.

From a young age, Baek Chungsung never once questioned that he would be raised as a servant of the Yeon family. His father and grandfather before him had served as butlers to the Yeon family for generations, so it was simply inevitable that Chungsung would follow in their footsteps.

Being quite the perceptive child, Chungsung understood well how fortunate his circumstances truly were. In order to grow into a person worthy of serving as the Yeon family's butler, he received a high-quality education. He ate exquisite food and wore fine clothing in order to better understand the lifestyle of the upper class. His path had been decided for him, but the path that was laid out for him was a gilded one. What else could that be but a blessing?

At twelve years old, Chungsung was assigned to be caretaker and playmate to the then-five-year-old son of the Yeon family-- which is to say, Yeon Hajun. This was his first master-servant relationship, but despite the significant gap between their ages, they were childhood friends, and almost felt like surrogate brothers.

It was after one year that the kidnapping incident occurred.

It happened during a grand party-- one of the scant handful of yearly gatherings where the entire Yeon family gathered in one place.

The motive was simple: they wanted to demand a ransom from the Yeon family. However, they child that they took was not actually related to the family at all. Hard as it may be to believe, the perpetrators mistook Chungsung for a child of the Yeon family, and he was kidnapped.

Because he was a smart child, Chungsung knew at once what had happened; it was for this reason that he did not rashly speak up. If the truth were to come out, wouldn't they simply make another attack to kidnap Hajun? And if they found out that they had taken the wrong child, would they dispose of him, as he would be of no use to them? It was his childish pride as a servant, combined with this precocious acuity, that made him hesitant to speak up. As such, Chungsung had no alternative but to quietly allow himself to be taken away by the gang of criminals.

The gang of criminals realized soon enough that the child they had kidnapped was a mere servant, but they proceeded with their plan regardless. They intended to use Chungsung as a replacement hostage in order to extort the ransom from the Yeons. But... since they had not been successful in kidnapping the actual child of the Yeon family, it seemed that they decided that a more intense appeal to emotion was necessary. In a show of intimidation, Chungsung was to be subjected to brutal torture.

Over the course of one week following the kidnapping, Chungsung was dragged through a living hell.

At first, the violence he faced was as simple as a strike across the face; but over time, it evolved into merciless beatings. What started as merely the threat of a knife was soon made manifest with painful wounds across his pale skin. Left bound in a dimly-lit abandoned warehouse and given only moldy bread for sustenance, Chungsung could do nothing but endure it.

Perhaps it was as the men said; perhaps the Yeon family might show me some compassion. Perhaps, since I have served them so devotedly despite my young age, they would pay the ransom to save me.

He clung to that fragile, uncertain hope.

But, of course, the Yeon family had no reason to be swayed by such petty sentimentalism.

As the Yeon family refused to pay the ransom, the kidnappers grew more frustrated and intensified their torture. Chungsung continued to endure their escalating violence, even when it hurt, even when it was difficult, even when he wanted to cry, even when he wanted to vomit.

And so, as Chungsung endured it, he began to sublimate the unfathomable pain by justifying it to himself.

I'm glad that I am the one who was kidnapped. I'm glad that it isn't Hajun. All of this time that I spend is for Hajun's sake. All of this is proof of my devotion to the Yeon family.

It hurts but I'm glad that Hajun does not have to bear this hurt it's painful I'm glad that I could shield a member of the Yeon family from having to face this pain I feel sick But even so, I am happy that I can be of service to the Yeon family it hurts I hate it but I'm happy it hurts But it is for the sake of the Yeon family it hurts This is for Hajun's sake it's painful I am happy that I am able to remain loyal it hurts but I'm happy that I am able to be of service It hurts but I'm happy, I'm happy to be of service it hurts I'm happy I'm happy it hurts I'm happy I'm happy -- aahhh!! I'm happy it hurts!

And so was broken Baek Chungsung the person, and so was perfected Baek Chungsung the servant.

This horrific experience was etched upon Chungsung's heart, a twisted sense of fulfilment indelibly linking to the feeling of pain to the "joy of servitude".

To be honest, it is very likely that this distorted way of thinking dramatically enhanced Chungsung's aptitude as a servant. However, for the young Hajun, who was kept unaware of the kidnapping, the change was utterly bewildering, leaving him only to think, when my servant came back, he suddenly had developed quite the strange predilection.

As a result of this, the master should simply command his servant with an arrogant regard, and the servant should revel in the feeling of being dominated. At twenty-four years old, Baek Chungsung had lived the entire time in the interim with this belief.

One day, Dongha returned home from cram school and politely wiped his shoes upon the doormat.

"Dongha-bocchama. Thank you for all of your hard work today."

The school bag slung across Dongha's hunched shoulders was tremendously heavy. One must wonder whether it was the expectations placed upon him or the pressure that weighed as heavily as the books. Regardless of which it was, that heavy burden was a weight upon the back of then-ten-year-old Dongha.

"... right."

He wasn't even ignoring Chungsung. With his listless reply to Chungsung's words, Dongha shuffled off towards his room. The sound of his footsteps tapping against the polished floor of the entrance hall was remarkable in its dullness.

In Korea, the month of May is known as "the Queen of the Seasons". However, despite the warm weather, Dongha's expression was grey and gloomy. It seemed that he was dreading taking dinner around the dining room table. After he entered his room, he slammed the door shut behind him, and Chungsung could hear the lock clicking into place.

"Nn... nnh..."

Chungsung could hear a couple faint sobs, and thereafter it seemed that Dongha was stifling his voice. After this, Dongha would have to report his academic achievements -- which had fallen short of expectations -- to his father. There was never any togetherness or warmth at the family dinner table; rather, there was a tense atmosphere that evoked a shareholder meeting. This was particularly true when performance fell short of projections.

"... hm."

Chungsung, still holding the jacket and bag that he had been entrusted to handle, barely managed to suppress a sigh that threatened to escape his lips.

Now what am I to do?

From the moment that Hajun had departed for Japan, Dongha had borne the weight of his parents' expectations, and many years full of thorny hardship had passed since.

From Chungsung's perspective, Dongha's greatest misfortune was that he had an incredibly talented person to whom he had to compare himself, and that person was no longer nearby.

"The one who possesses the necessary strength was born under the wrong circumstances," Chungsung said softly to himself, "and the one who was born with the proper blood lacks the strength... things don't always go the way you want them to."
He carefully arranged Dongha's shoes. Looking at how small his feet were, he almost began to worry about whether or not Dongha would be able to stand firmly on the ground.

Yeon Dongha was quite the well-behaved child. He was quick-witted, and a fast learner. He spared no effort in living up to the expectations of his parents. He possessed keen artistic talent, and his athletic abilities were decent as well. However, his results were still inferior to those of his older brother, Hajun.

Indeed, Dongha had talent. However, talented though he may be, in an upper-class family, simply being talented is taken as a given. Especially as it pertains to being heir to the Yeon family, simply being the top student among other gifted students is insufficient. It's necessary to be overwhelmingly superior. Hajun had stood out among his peers, to the point where nobody could even approach his level.

People are, of course, individuals. They each have their own strengths and weaknesses. However, because of the doting attention that Dongha received from both of his parents, it would not be tolerated if he fell short of Hajun in any way. For him to be less capable than a bastard child was completely out of the question. So, for the young Dongha, it was unbearably stifling to be compared day in and day out to the brother that they had already banished.

It was precisely because of his parents' love that the existence of his older brother -- an older brother who never received that very love -- was an obstacle in his way.

Both brothers were to be pitied. But even Chungsung himself could not help but compare Dongha and Hajun. Who observes their master more closely than his servant, after all? And even from Chungsung's perspective, it seemed that Dongha lacked what was needed to be a proper master and a leader who could bear the responsibility of heading the Yeon family.

And above all, Chungsung was not able to feel that he had done his job in service to its fullest-- that is to say, there was a profound lack of "punishment".

"If he were Hajun-bocchama," Chungsung mused, "he would have immediately vented all of his frustrations upon me..." He gazed out at the eastern sky from the window. The wispy shape of the clouds evoked the image of a whip-- but it was probably just his imagination.

Thinking back on it, even Hajun's punishments had an artistry to them. The angle at which he kicked Chungsung; the sharp edges of his words, honed perfectly to cut into the most vulnerable parts of Chungsung's heart. It was truly magnificent. One day, he was told, "Chungsung, become a chair," and was made to kneel. Then, a potted cactus was placed upon his back and he was left like that for many tends of minutes, after which he was scolded for having an "ugly foundation", and Chungsung was so moved by the experience that it reappeared in his dreams.

For Chungsung, it had been pure enjoyment, but for Hajun, he had been deftly releasing his frustrations in this way, sublimating his stresses into aggression just before they reached a breaking point, and thus he maintained high motivation. Hajun had been able to continue moving forward by becoming sadistic, and for Chungsung, it was a source of pleasure. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Thinking of it that way, it was clear that Dongha was bottling up his stress. As such, Chungsung could not relax, either. As his servant, it would be unthinkable for him to overlook and gloss past the situation.

... wait just a moment.

He had a sudden revelation-- or perhaps it was something that he simply hadn't thought too closely about before.

Chungsung headed towards Dongha's room, and -- doing his best to keep his excitement under control -- knocked upon the door.

"Bocchama? Dongha-bocchama, it is Chungsung speaking."

He had the time to take two deep breaths before he received an answer. The door was unlocked, and slowly, it opened. When he saw Dongha's face, his pale face was swollen with tears, as though his eyes alone had been painted in red.

"... what do you want. There's still time before dinner, isn't there?"

"May I trouble you to speak with you for only a moment?"

Chungsung stepped into the room without deigning to mention the tear stains. He carefully and firmly closed the door behind him to prevent anyone from overhearing their conversation. Then, he knelt before Dongha to come down to his eye level.

"Bocchama, please allow me to take a moment of your time to allow me, your humble Chungsung, to offer a suggestion. ... when people experience pain, it leads to a stagnation of the heart. If one is to keep that all to themselves, then their mind will not work properly, either. It is only natural that such a person's grades would stop improving as well."

He captured Dongha's full attention with simply the word grades. If he were able to address the heart of the problems that Dongha was facing, then he would be willing to listen. This is something that Chungsung knew well.

"It's in the Analects^[3], is it not? Per Confucius: Learning without thought is labor lost--"

"... I haven't learned that yet," said Dongha.

"It simply means that if you do not reflect on what you have learned, simply studying down will not lead to any great personal growth. However, if one's mind is awash in stagnant, distracting thoughts, there is simply no time to think," said Chungsung. "It is my belief that skillfully resolving issues of stagnation is also a quality that those in leadership must possess... one must be able to spit out the distracting thoughts that swirl inside the head."

"If I could just 'spit them out', I would have done that already." Dongha bit his lip; his eyes threatened to spill over with tears.

These were not the eyes that Chungsung wanted to see. But, it was a good start. First things first was to get him to turn the tables on Chungsung.

"Father doesn't want me to show weakness," said Dongha. "I can't afford to show weakness. Such a weak heir would only be a disappointment to my father..."

"Bocchama," Chungsung said, smiling widely with only his eyes. "Such feeble complaints are the essence of self-reproach. A ruler must not spend his time constantly blaming himself. If you are to vent, express your anger, your indignation, rather than your weakness... when faced with an injustice that does not go the way you would will it, take those feelings of injustice and turn them into verbal abuse, into violence, and turn it upon others. That is the way of the conqueror."

"What... where am I supposed to do that? How!?" Dongha said indignantly. "Who am I supposed to throw all of that at?"

"Do I not stand before you?"

Chungsung smiled beamingly. It was a friendly smile. It was a smile of obedience.

Kings can be made.

Throughout history, countless servants have done just that. A king is not a king from the very onset; he is a king because he has had those around him to support him. A proper servant is also a guide on the path to power.

This plan would kill three birds with a single stone. Dongha's heart would be soothed by allowing him to relieve his stress. In doing so, it would encourage his growth and lead to the prosperity of the Yeon family. And, furthermore, Chungsung would be able to experience his "joy of servitude". There could surely be no more devoted, nor more clever, plan of action for such a servant.

Dongha's gaze was fixed upon Chungsung. He had made a convincing case; all that remained now was the finishing touches that would tie it all together. Chungsung knew exactly what he needed to say to trigger the reaction he was looking for.

"Hajun-bocchama used me for the exact same purpose."

The look in Dongha's eyes changed dramatically. As the tight reins of suppression that he had been keeping on himself began to loosen, the mere mention of that name was more than enough to make his mind go completely blank.

A small open hand struck across Chungsung's cheek. Kneeling, so as to make it easier to hit him, had been well worth it.

"Ah...!"

A few moments later, it seemed that Dongha became aware of the stinging numbness in his hand. He seemed to come back to his senses, then, taken aback that he had raised his hand to another person. But it was a good thing that he had tasted the pleasure of striking another, even if only the once.

"That's excellent, Bocchama."

Chungsung lifted a hand to his own cheek, where the feeling of the open-handed strike still lingered. He could clearly remember the outline of his small hand upon his skin.

... alright. That's far from enough to be sufficient, but there is still more, ever more, to come!

"Chungsung, I told you that I was going to take a shower before breakfast."

First thing in the morning, he was scolded for disobeying an order that he did not remember being given.

"Chungsung, you're taking too long in getting my outfit ready."

After breakfast, the clothes from the closet are strewn across the floor, and he is ordered to pick them up.

"Chungsung! Who in the world told you to put cat ears on this hat!"

Before heading out, he is struck across the face by the brim of a hard cap with cat ears attached.

Ah~! Now this, this is it, I can't get enough of this~!

Two years had passed since it began. The friction of time's forward march continued to rub raw Dongha's heart. The pent-up frustration, which he could no longer contain within him, was manifested as violence. As a result, Dongha was able to vent it out, and his grades had improved. Chungsung's predelictions -- or, rather, his plan -- had certainly come to fruition.

He had grown a hard shell of pride in order to protect his heart. His eyes had grown sharp, honed by a distrust of other people. Eleven-year-old Dongha was growing into a fine child of the Yeon family.

Especially at the height of summer, in August, Dongha's "rewards" (which was to say, his punishments) became more severe. The idea that summer vacation is a time at which elementary students can relax and cut loose is reserved only for mundane people. For the children of upper-class families, however, these days are filled with cram school and self-study. Indeed, this was the most gruelling time of the year. In stark contrast to Dongha, however, Chungsung was leading quite the fulfilling life, thanks to the escalating pressure and similarly escalating punishments.

Under Dongha's fierce gaze, Chungsung bowed and apologized profusely, but his apologies were only superficial. Prostrating himself was the best way to avoid his face accidentally giving away any signs of his pleasure.

"If I may be so bold as to say so... bocchama. The cat cap of which you speak is a model put forth in the spring collection by a designer who holds a Royal Warrant from the British Royal Family... although it may look simply cute, you will find that the tailoring is of high quality, and I thought it would suit Bocchama well, so I took it upon myself to order it."

"The tailoring is 'high quality'? So what? You... you truly think that this hat, the likes of which a frivolous tourist at a theme park would wear, would suit me?"

As Chungsung knelt, he could feel the rough texture of indoor slippers pressing against his head. Even without lifting his head, he could feel the piercing coldness of Dongha's gaze pouring down upon him. When he felt the grinding, crushing motion, his heart began to pound like a man in love. Dongha's voice came from above.

"The craftsmanship is meticulous, yes, but there's been compromises made in the fabric selection. This is merely 'high quality', but you could never call it top of the line. This is the kind of mass-produced garbage that relies on a designer's name to sell at a profit! A product that carries a name but lacks quality... you would insinuate that this would suit me?"

"I-I'm terribly sorry, Bocchama! My judgment was made in error! Please, I ask of you, see fit to teach your humble Chungsung a lesson for this--!"

"Don't you dare try to give me orders when you're the one being disciplined!!"

A full-forced kick landed against Chungsung. Then two, then three. As a finishing touch, Dongha hurled the cat-eared cap in question at him.

Aahhhnn! Yes!! That one just now was particularly good, Bocchama! ... Chungsung thought, but he refrained from saying as such out loud.

After several kicks, Dongha finally calmed down and gave a new order.

"You'll replace that ridiculous hat. Am I understood?"

"Y-yes. It will be as you command it."

Brushing off his clothes and taking up his parasol, Chungsung provided shade on the way to the waiting car. Today was free for leisure. It was one of the rare days where there was no cram school. The luxury car, polished until it shined like obsidian, already had its air conditioning on. After escorting Dongha to the back seat, Chungsung inspected the front grille (which bore a striking resemblance to the Parthenon) to ensure that there was no condensation, before he took the drivers' seat.

"Are we to follow the planned route today and go forward with going shopping?"

"Stop by the art museum," said Dongha. "There's a special exhibition of Joseon Dynasty white porcelain with an AR installation that lasts only until the end of this month, isn't there? I want to go see it."

"Ah, yes, your summer homework assignments include... a report on familiarizing yourself with some aspect of history, do they not? Understood."

In reality, Chungsung knew that this was one of Dongha's hobbies. While he enjoyed playing piano, horseback riding, and chess, at the times that he was mentally exhausted, Dongha particularly enjoyed art. He was skilled at oil painting, but when time was too short to allow for that, he also enjoyed coloring books. He would, in all likelihood, purchase an adult coloring book at the museum's gift shop.

The large car rolled along its way, headed towards the art museum. The scenery of the city rushed past the windows as though in an advertisement. The lush green ginkgo trees lined the streets were basking in the bleaching heat of midsummer. People outside walked along in a haze of heat, while Dongha watched from inside a car where the temperature was a stable 23° C.

Before long, they arrived at the art museum. Even they walked from the underground parking lot to the entrance, Chungsung did not forget to open the parasol he was holding. Today, it was serving in place of a hat.

"Ah, Dongha-sama...!"

A child's voice called out to them. On their way to the reception desk, they ran into a group of five or six elementary school children. They were well-dressed children, and Chungsung recognized them. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, they were Dongha's elementary school classmates. They were the children who often hung out around Dongha.

From under the shadow cast by the parasol came Dongha's voice in reply. "Hmph. So all of you have come here looking for material for your assignment as well?"

"Y-yes. There's a special exhibit going on right now that would be perfect for it..."

Dongha did not seem to care overmuch. However, the eyes of the other elementary school students were darting around nervously.

The Yeon family name was a passport to anywhere you wanted to go. It was trivial for them to purchase museum tickets on a whim, but for the children standing before them now, it was not so simple. They were all children from wealthy families, but even so, if they wanted to see a special exhibition, they needed advance reservations. It was clear that they had made plans without Dongha.

"Uh, if you want, Dongha-sama, you can, uh, join us..."

"Me?" said Dongha. "Visit an art exhibition with you lot who couldn't tell the difference between constructivism and impressionism if it bit them^[4]? If you've got the time to make such presumptuous jokes, you should go and attempt to better your underdeveloped minds instead."

And Dongha strode right past the boys. The sound of his fast-retreating footsteps echoed.

Chungsung was about to ask was that truly alright?, but right as he was opening his mouth, Dongha stomped on his foot in a foot of anger, causing him to instead blurt out, "That's alright!!"
(Dongha's resultant "What?" was a perfectly valid question.)

After a short silence, Dongha murmured in a small voice.

"They're just like you... they're all the same. All anyone cares about is the name of the Yeon family." Then he pressed his lips tightly and began walking quickly. Chungsung followed after him in silence.

Dongha-sama, you always get lost when you're alone... he thought. Of course, he wouldn't say that out loud even with a gun to his head.

All of the children they had just encountered were the children of the presidents and executives of various companies under the Yeon conglomerate. Just as Dongha was obligated to take on the role of a ruler, all of them were obligated to obey the Yeon family. To an extent, Dongha was right; those children were in a similar position to Chungsung.

Chungsung was quite personally offended to be lumped in with children who would be so blatant in turning their attitudes towards their masters on and off-- and worse, to be so blatant about it as to be noticed by the master in question. But, more important to Chungsung than any of his own personal feelings was understanding what Dongha was feeling underneath the surface. As they shuffled along, his small back seemed stiff, as though he were enduring a dull and persistent ache.

So Chungsung simply stayed by Dongha's side as they examined the exhibition space.

The air in the museum, cooled by the air conditioner, was filled up by the silence, and the polished stone store was heavy with a layer of dust. The dry sound of footsteps echoed against the white porcelain on display.

But, the silence didn't last long. As they finished viewing the first exhibit and turned the corner along the marked route, Dongha frowned.

"Every last one of them..."

Dongha's eyes fell upon a boy who was looking up from the exhibit, and their eyes met.

His hair was black and cut in a slightly-long bob cut. He was tall and slender for his age, standing at a head taller than Dongha. Chungsung recognized his face, as well. The boy narrowed his eyes as if he was judging the situation, and then the corners of his mouth followed in pulling upwards into a malicious smile.

"Well, well, it's Dongha-sama, what a coincidence. Looks like you don't have your entourage with you today."

"... you're one to speak, but I imagine you must be quite lonely without even a single attendant with you, Woojin," Dongha said coolly.

"Well, unlike you, Dongha-sama, I'm not so sheltered that I can't go anywhere on my own."

This boy's name was Yang Woojin^[5]. He, too, was the son of a company under the Yeon conglomerate-- specifically, Yang Electronics, a medical equipment manufacturer.

As Dongha looked at him, his lips pulled down into a pointed frown and he exhaled through his nose. "What good would it do for someone who can't answer the most basic questions on a social studies test to look at Joseon Dynasty porcelain?" he said. "If you want a vase to put weeds in, you can just nose around on some flea market app."

"Oh, thanks soooo much for the advice," said Woojin. "On that note, Dongha-sama, you seem to be walking around in a hurry; is the AC so cold it set you off and made you wet yourself? Because just so you know, just because all these vases are white it doesn't mean they're toilets, so don't get the wrong idea, okay?"

"Honestly," said Dongha, "just more evidence that those of low birth are classless and tacky even when it comes to mockery. Chungsung, give him some mints to try and salvage his breath."

"You really can't do anything without your butler, can you? Guess that's why you looked so pathetic at our sports day last year."

After watching what felt like two Pomeranians yipping at each other for a while, Chungsung stepped in to intervene once it seemed that Dongha's tone was growing genuinely incensed. With a hmph!, Dongha took his leave.

"Are you alright, Bocchama?" Chungsung asked, kneeling down to meet Dongha's gaze as he asked. Dongha was clearly carrying a lot of tension in his temples, but he managed to keep his composure.

"He's still as stubborn as he ever is..."

It wasn't an unusual sight to see Woojin and Dongha snapping at each other. Woojin was also a top student at school and often butted heads with Dongha. If Dongha ever faltered, it was sure that Woojin would step in to take the lead. In many ways, he was an unwelcome opponent.

Chungsung sighed softly, as though he were empathizing with Dongha's discomfort. "It seems that Woojin's words and actions are becoming more provocative as the years pass... considering his father's position at Yang Electronics, surely, he is not at an age where he doesn't realize how foolhardy it is to act that way towards the Yeon family."

"Hmph. He just has a complex about his father," Dongha said, turning away with a huff. "He's just upset to see his adoptive father who he respects so much groveling and bowing his head to my father. That mongrel adopted out of an orphanage... he doesn't even realize that all he's doing is undermining his adoptive father's status. It's more than foolish-- it's pathetic."
Explaining Woojin's circumstances seemed to put Dongha's mind at ease somewhat. Since Chungsung had been trying to steer the conversation in this direction, this was a satisfying turn of events.

Seeing that the tension in Dongha's temples had eased somewhat, Chungsung hunched his back and leaned in to whisper; though it was perhaps presumptuous of him to do so, he intended to offer a bit of advice to his master. "But, Bocchama, if that is the case, then wouldn't it be easy to shut Woojin-sama's mouth?"

Dongha raised an eyebrow; Chungsung continued undeterred.

"Yang Electronics is in a position where they can never defy the will of the Yeon conglomerate. If Yang-sama were to hear of Woojin-sama's disrespectful treatment of you, then--"

"Do you think I'm so petty that I would go tattle to another child's parents about a fight?" Dongha's voice was far colder than the marble chilled by the air conditioning, and it pierced straight through Chungsung's eardrums. That voice seemed to seep into his ears, sending shivers down his neck and making his very spine tremble. "If you're going to suggest a course of action like that, Chungsung, then why didn't you intervene earlier and stop it immediately?"

"M-y sincerest apologies, Bocchama. I simply believed that it would not do to cause a violent scene at the art museum..."

"Who said anything about resorting to violence? Can't you handle things in a civilized way? Once we've finished looking around the exhibits, we're going outside for a bit. It seems you are in need of a stern lesson."

"Y-yessss..."

I can't abide his attitude towards Bocchama, but even so, my sincerest gratitude to Woojin-sama!

Afterwards, Chungsung enjoyed a few moments of pure bliss as his face was mashed against the sun-drenched cobblestones.

They say that time goes faster as more of it passes by-- and that seems to be true.

Every time Chungsung sees the Platanus trees, which had seemingly all at once turned a uniform yellow color, he is struck by that thought. The heat of summer is long past, and the year's calendar is dwindling to a close. In other words, Dongha was growing another year older.

Chungsung visited the busy downtown district alone to check on the ear cuff that he had ordered as a gift for Dongha. He also wanted to acquire other gifts, should he find any suitable ones.

"... hm."

He heard the sound of lively music coming from the street, and then concert footage was displayed on a large monitor. Ah, is that all it is? Chungsung said to himself, completely unmoved.

It was a Phantom Live. They were a form of hiphop performance that had become quite mainstream in recent years.

There was no doubt that the market for them was huge. He was aware of the trend -- and moreover, there were ties between Alter Trigger, the company at the heart of the movement, and the Yeon Conglomerate -- but Chungsung had no interest whatsoever in such pop culture ephemera. However, he had some interest in the side effects of Phantometal-- the trap reactions. To him, the idea of being able to vividly relive past trauma sounded like being able to restore the sweetness and flavor to chewed gum.

... now that I think of it.

Chungsung checked his watch. He had plenty of time before his appointed time to visit the department store. This area was something of a star-studded neighborhood, and since so many celebrities lived around here, the area had a great appreciation for the arts. He was fairly certain there was also a shop that dealt in the work of international artists as well.

He checked the map; it wasn't far. Chungsung casually decided to take a detour from his walking route, and he entered a CD shop with a rather niche selection of deep cuts. Just as he expected, there was a section for hiphop. Though he searched the section for some time, he couldn't find what he was looking for.

Only after scouring the indie label section did he find the name he was looking for.

"BAE". According to various music information sites, they were a rap group that had been gaining some momentum lately in the indies scene. The group consisted of three members, all from different countries of origin. Chungsung had utilized his information network to investigate the members' backgrounds.

If he recalled correctly, SUZAKU was the son of a famous pianist and opera singer, and was himself considered a musical prodigy-- Sugasano Allen by name. There were rumors circulating in political and business circles that anZ had been the son of a British diplomat.

And then, there was 48 -- Yeon Hajun.

All of them children who, despite having respectable parents, were unable to survive in those homes of privilege.

"... Hajun-bocchama."

Pity and sorrow filled Chungsung's narrowed eyes.

Even though they're gaining momentum, they're not even signed to a major record label?

A young man who had once walked the path of brilliance as heir to the Yeon family, only to be told that his shine was merely a thin veneer of gilding. An older brother who was dabbling in vulgar pop entertainment and singing in obscurity with other youth in circumstances similar to his own.

This would serve as a perfect example of what not to do for Dongha.

After taking a moment to sigh heavily, Chungsung took his "learning materials" to the register.

Executives from each company brought expensive gifts and offered words of congratulations for Dongha, but then they busied themselves with trying to gauge the mood of Dongha's father, the head of the Yeon family. The children in attendance wore forced, businesslike smiles and were extremely careful to avoid being disrespectful or saying anything inappropriate.

Despite being the main host of the celebratory banquet, there was no smile on Dongha's face. Though Chungsung took charge of handling party proceedings at crucial moments, he otherwise stood consistently beside Dongha and served as his attendant. Although this party was already little more than a formality, there was still a clear reason why Dongha's expression was so dour this year. It wasn't something that Chungsung could do anything about.

After the party ended and all of the commotion died down, Chungsung was summoned to the study of his master-- the head of the Yeon family.

Chungsung was quite put out by the clumsy movements of the servant who opened the door. At a glance, he seemed to be quite young; he must have been a recent hire.

The air in the study felt much heavier than that outside. Even when you took a breath, it felt like there wasn't enough oxygen flowing into your lungs. This was the man who controlled the Yeon Conglomerate-- the kind of ruler that both Dongha and Hajun had aspired to become. His aura perfectly embodied that ideal. No matter who came to face him, they could not help but to bow their heads.

"Dongha certainly wasn't getting swept up in the mood, was he?"
There was no preamble. As with every other question he had ever asked, it was always direct and to the point.

Chungsung bowed his head and replied. "It seemed that he was quite tense the entire time. I am sure that Bocchama is fully aware that birthday parties are social occasions, and as such, commoners are more eager than ever to try to use such opportunities for personal gain."

"He's hardly so foolish that he should become ecstatic to the point that he loses sense about his situation. But that does not mean he should fail to show proper composure towards our guests." The head of the Yeon family touched a tablet that he had facing open on his desk and he glanced at some of the data upon it. "Honestly... not only did he fail to achieve first place in his midterm exams, but his results in the piano competition and junior golf tournament were abysmal as well. Not only is he proving incompetent both academically and athletically, he can't even put on a brave face about it."

"I apologize that this is happening even despite my presence," said Chungsung. "I imagine the problem stems from the case of influenza that he contracted in mid-October; that is fully accountable to my own failures at health management."

"You've already been reprimanded for that. And moreover, I've already told you that stating the obvious is a waste of time."

Chungsung knew that was going to be the response he got. Master Yeon, too, understood that Chungsung was attempting to redirect some of his ire, if only a tiny bit of it, to himself, and so he did not give him an inch.

Master Yeon narrowed his eyes and turned his blade-sharp gaze out the window. "While it's appalling that your management was so careless that he contracted an infectious disease, such mistakes are bound to happen. What is far more disappointing, however, is his inability to make up for the time lost during recovery."

"I imagine," said Chungsung, "that had Bocchama been able to focus, he would have been able to make a full comeback. It simply seems that his mental state was quite disrupted by his anxiousness to do so."

"That's exactly what I'm saying is unacceptable. Academic ability and physical strength can be honed and improved, but courage -- or the weakness of a heart that lacks it -- cannot be fixed overnight. I worry about what will happen when he enters middle school and the competition will only intensify."

"That is all due to my own inadequacy as his butler."

"You've begun speaking with quite a lot of arrogance, haven't you? Considering you're only a butler." A heavy sigh seeped throughout the study, and deep grooves furrowed between Master Yeon's eyebrows. This was not the face of a parent worried about his son's future, but rather, the face of a businessman regretting his own misjudgment. "I really did act too hastily."

"... what do you mean by that?"

"In prioritizing bloodline over talent. If Hajun had been my proper wife's child, then there is no doubt in my mind that he would be the one to succeed me."

"I will do my absolute utmost that I might be able to report back to you that your regret was unfounded," said Chungsung.

"What an unusual display of emotion for you. Regardless," said Master Yeon, "your job is to make the 'chicken standing in for the pheasant'^[6] fly higher than the pheasant itself could have. Keep that in mind and go." Bowing deeply at the waist, Chungsung exited the study.

There was something odd about the feel of the doorknob. Chungsung did his best not to react to it so that Master Yeon would not notice. But the door was, undoubtedly, slightly ajar. Chungsung leaned closer to the young servant who was waiting outside of the room. The way he extremely-obviously jumped didn't give the impression that he was some kind of corporate spy; as such, it likely wasn't him who had been eavesdropping.

"Dongha-bocchama was here just a moment ago, wasn't he?" Chungsung whispered, and at his words, the servant froze, neither nodding nor shaking his head. His failure to answer yes or no demonstrated his loyalty, but it was a sufficient answer even so.

Chungsung immediately headed towards Dongha's room. His steps were heavy and purposeful, but a vague sense of anxiety caused him to lose his footing somewhat.

"Bocchama. Dongha-bocchama. This is Chungsung. May I enter?"

There was no reply to Chungsung's knock.

The door to the room was shut tightly, and it seemed to reflect the state of Dongha's heart. A sigh threatened to escape his lips, but Chungsung instead swallowed loudly. The fact that he had not noticed they were being eavesdropped upon was a blunder so embarrassing that he wanted to bite his own tongue off.

"Bocchama..."

His status as the legitimate wife's child. His pride over the fact that it was him with whom his parents' love lied. The fact that it was him, and not Hajun, who had been chosen -- this was what held Dongha's weary spirit intact. Of course, Dongha himself had probably had an inkling of it, but he had never been able to ask directly... whether his father valued Hajun more than him.

If it were simply a matter of being hurt, that would be fine. But it was no easy feat to mend the threads of a broken heart.

He had to act quickly. Before it was too late.

"Bocchama, I have come to deliver your presents from our guests. If you will not allow me in, then please forgive me if we respectfully pile them outside your door. Please forgive the inconvenience."

Chungsung had the other servants help to carry the gift boxes to set them in front of the room. Then, he carefully placed a thin package a short distance away from the pile of other presents. The deliberately-sloppy and cheap-looking wrapping stood out from the other gifts. There wasn't even a message card to go with it.

A short while later, he heard the sound of the pile of presents being knocked over.

Of course, Dongha was perceptive, and he certainly noticed the strange package. With even the sender unknown, Dongha couldn't help but investigate it. Ordinarily, he would have called a servant to check it for him, but in his current state of mind, Dongha would do no such thing.

Just as Chungsung had hoped, Dongha picked up the cheap-looking package.

"Chungsung. Tonight is getting colder."

"Understood. I will warm up some Ceylon tea and bring it to you. Am I to add milk?"

"I'll leave it to your discretion."

Chungsung selected top-grade Uva tea leaves, and warmed the milk before he added it. When he entered the room with tray in hand, just as he expected would be the case, Dongha was taking a short break. He was seated deeply in his chair, wireless headphones in his ears. Chungsung said nothing, merely placed the tray down and glanced at him.

The sight before him was the result of a miscalculation on Chungsung's part.

Although it hadn't been an overnight turnaround, Dongha had managed to pick himself up sooner than expected. While this was of course a welcome sight, Chungsung had begun to see Dongha engrossed in listening to music like this at the end of each day more and more frequently.

He knew exactly what Dongha was listening to. The package that Chungsung had slipped into his birthday presents had contained a rap album.

Which is to say, it had been a BAE CD.

His plan had initially been to allow Dongha to listen to the CD, only to then reveal that the music in question was by the unit that Hajun was a part of. From there, he planned to comfort Dongha by saying:
Your banished brother, far away in Japan, has wound up getting involved in hiphop and other such trivial matters. More than that, he's stuck languishing in the indie scene, unable to even make a major label debut. He lives in a world completely divorced from your own-- from your future, the promising successor to the Yeon family.

That was what he had intended to say.

But Chungsung couldn't make himself do it. Because Dongha's eyes as he listened to the CD shone brighter than he had ever seen seen them shine before. Because he actually looked like a boy his own age, his wounded and troubled heart being healed by music.

"... bocchama..."

Chungsung had swallowed down that mosquito-liked murmur that had threatened to escape his mouth.

Ever since then, Dongha had been listening to quite a lot of rap. He particularly enjoyed BAE's music. And it had been Chungsung who had introduced it to him.

As he was leaving the room, Chungsung glanced back over his shoulder to check on Dongha one more time. Six years had passed since he had become Dongha's personal butler, but never in that time had Chungsung seen his face so at peace.

Chungsung's plan had failed. He had felt vaguely guilty about using Hajun, whom he had once served, as a piece of leverage, but Chungsung was ultimately, first and foremost, a servant of the Yeon family. For the sake of Dongha, the heir, he thought he could have used his brother's fall from grace as a cautionary tale. But in the end -- even if neither of them realized it -- the older brother's singing voice had saved the younger brother's heart.

While it was in all likelihood SUZAKU's influence that guided the direction it took, BAE's music had the ability to resonate with people. It posed a challenge to the listener, but it also acknowledged, respected, and encouraged both friends and rivals. It was as if they were cheering others on, saying, we're going to face this moment head-on with all our might. You can, too.

That sound, like a push from behind, had helped Dongha recover from the depths of his despair. While it wasn't what Chungsung had intended, it was hard to be mad about the results. Having had that momentary break, he came back to his studies more effective than ever.

But Chungsung's feelings were still mixed.

"That... won't do. This is surely unacceptable, Bocchama," Chungsung murmured, but Dongha -- engrossed in the music -- was not paying attention and did not notice that he had said anything.

That insipid expression was certainly unbefitting of "the heir of the Yeon family". No matter how relaxed he had been, Dongha had never let his guard down and bared his heart to that extent. Speaking as his butler, that change was an unwelcome one in his master. The welling of such warm emotions from the depths of the heart were unnecessary for members of the Yeon family. Like this, he would never live up to Chungsung's ideal.

But on the other hand, contrary emotions lurked within Chungsung's heart as well.

"Is bocchama... and perhaps not only bocchama... happy, I wonder..."

Looking at Dongha now, something stirred within Chungsung's heat. There was a part of him that felt a genuine happiness at seeing Dongha enjoying himself.

Chungsung served the Yeon family. This was Dongha, future heir to the master. Chungsung was neither Dongha's father, nor his brother. Nor was he even so much as a friend. Baek Chungsung, in his turn, was to seek only the pleasure of serving another.

So then what is this feeling of warmth, I wonder?

An old wound scar beneath his clothes seemed to throb with an ache then, almost as if an accusation.

Since then, Dongha seemed to become a little more defiant. A change had definitely taken place. Whether this was something to be celebrated or lamented, Chungsung was not able to answer. Something was distinctly wrong, and yet Chungsung could not bring himself to scold Dongha for it. He even aided Dongha so that his parents would not discover that he was secretly listening to rap music.

It was as though those deeply-held emotions -- that had become a tangled, festering mess back when he was thirteen years old -- were suddenly being exposed to pure, clear water, and he could not shake the unease.

And in that way, the year came to a close. The remaining days of December passed by. Dongha's grades improved. The Yeon family was able to face the end of the year with a relative degree of peace.

These were Dongha's last few months as an elementary school student.

And the incident occurred at the beginning of the year.

In South Korea, where the Lunar New Year around February is a major milestone, the start of the Lunar New Year is often just as hectic as the end of the calendar year.

The atmosphere around town was abuzz with excitement as people prepared altars for the tea ceremony to welcome the spirits of their ancestors, as well as preparing to return to their family homes for gatherings, and gift items (similar to the gifts given at the end of the year) began to pop up on store shelves everywhere. Moreover, as this was the coldest time of the year, shops and stalls offering warm food became hotspots of activity.

And so January came upon South Korea along with a bitter wind.

As Dongha strode down increasingly crowded streets, Chungsung tailed just behind him, both hands laden with shopping bags.

"It's getting too late in the season to look the stores. I wish I'd thought to get a few more coats before school begins," said Dongha.

"Bocchama," Chungsung said, "if I recall correctly, a cashmere coat in this winter's latest style was among your birthday presents."

Dongha stopped and whirled around to kick Chungsung in the shin with his heel.

"A-aow...!"

"Don't you realize that coat was one size too large for me!? You blithering idiot! Do you expect me to wear clothes given to me by someone who was so impressively stupid that they only looked at the brand name without regard for what size the recipient wears!?"

"I'm s-sure they were simply anticipating how you would grow during your growth spurt, Bocchamaaaaahhnn! My shins ♡"

"Are you saying that I'm growing slowly!?"

To consistently target the same spot when administering punishment-- excellent work, Bocchamaaaa~!

... and, atremble with joy, Chungsung was quite excited (or perhaps, relieved) at the reward (or perhaps it would be better to say punishment) courtesy of Dongha. The subject of his height was as much of a minefield as it ever was.

"B-but bocchama, walking around in this cold wind... would you not prefer enjoy shopping from the warmth of the car? And surely, that mask you're wearing to prevent infectious disease is suffocating?"

"It's entirely too cumbersome to drive everywhere in the car in the middle of January. Don't you see how narrow these roads are? Or, are you trying to imply that I shouldn't dare show myself in public if I must waddle around like a penguin?"

"I-- I meant no such thing--"

"You were saying it with your eyes!!"

"Aaahhnn-- ♡"

Today, Dongha was bundled up in thick winter clothes, so it was somewhat troublesome for him to move his upper body, and so his punishments mostly consistent of low kicks. Because they were in the middle of a crowded street, Chungsung kept his voice down. This form of restraint, too, was its own kind of pleasure.

But even so, he was a little bit concerned about Dongha, who was determined to walk the streets himself despite being so bundled up that he felt the need to make self-deprecating remarks about it.

And just as Chungsung feared, Dongha's feet were already leading them off towards the twisting alleyways.

"Bocchama," Chungsung said, "was there some high-end brand store you wanted to inspect on that street?"

"I've bought enough clothing and accessories," Dongha said. "From here on out, it's just casual shopping."

"... do you intend to go to that record store?"

"I've no intention of letting a feeble-minded luggage rack ask questions or offer input."

As Dongha walked away, Chungsung quickened his pace so that he would not fall behind, and spoke up. "Bocchama, I've no objection to your enjoying hiphop. However, I must inform you that the direction you're headed in, for the shop you're aiming for, is in a somewhat problematic location."

"Do you meant fact that it's in 'Goemul's Throat'?"

The street -- also known as the "Monster's Throat" -- was hardly a particularly welcoming place to begin with. But, in recent years, it had rapidly become very unsafe for the public. Following the rise in popularity of Phantom Lives, shops selling shoddy Phantometal sourced from extremely dubious channels sprang up left and right; nightclubs and imported herb shops lined the sidewalks. It had begun to rot like a decaying tooth. Even if the police had wanted to crack down on the criminal activity, there were certain political circumstances (of which Chungsung was well aware) that forestalled them from intervening, and so the area had become a breeding ground for criminal activity, large and small. It was even said that the group that had kidnapped Chungsung all those years ago frequented the area.

With that in mind, Chungsung saw fit to voice his opinion to his master.

"Yes. I'm afraid that I cannot simply abide you approaching the area without saying something."

"If you actually knew the area," Dongha said testily, "then you'd know that the record store is just outside of it."

"It is true... that the level of public safety can change drastically just by crossing a single street, but there is still a large gradient even before such a point. I believe that Goemul has quite a bit of influence on the clientele of that store."

"If this is such a problem, what good is even having you along?" said Dongha. "If we actually wandered into the street in question, that would be one thing, but the very least you should be able to do is protect your master at a run-down record store."

Faced with that argument, Chungsung had no choice but to comply. Whether his answer came from his pride as a butler, or if the memory of that day when he took Hajun's place was clouding his judgment... even Chungsung himself wasn't sure.

"Granted. But, Bocchama, if we are going to step off of the main street, then I ask that you allow me to lead the way."

"What? You expect me to heel behind my own butler?"

"No, it is simply that the area ahead seems to be rather complicated if you are not already familiar with its layout..."

Dongha seemed to catch on that the implicit meaning was and you're prone to getting lost, Bocchama, but he also seemed to understand that pointing it out would be something of an own-goal.

But, he still stomped on Chungsung's foot for good measure.

In the end, Chungsung's prediction was completely true, and his offer to lead was appreciated. Even while checking the map on his smartphone, they entered a winding alley that was very easy to get lost in. After a short while, Chungsung suddenly stopped walking, and Dongha tilted his head in confusion.

"What's going on?" said Dongha.

"My sincerest apologies. It seems that the signal here is very poor..." Chungsung said. "But, please don't worry. I have committed the map to memory, so I should be able to guide you without any further problems."

"Hmph. I would expect nothing less."

The record store they were headed for had the distinct appearance of being primarily for enthusiasts, and a rather musty smell wafted out from behind the cheap, left-open sliding door. Even Dongha, seeing it for the first time, seemed rather displeased, and Chungsung was relieved that they likely wouldn't be staying for long.

"... so there's a hiphop section, is there?"

Chungsung felt a little bit surprised when Dongha entered the store anyway.

It was something he had always wondered about. The upper-class environment that Dongha hailed from was as controlled and cultivated as a rose being carefully grown in a greenhouse. But even so, Dongha was surprisingly unintimidated by the atmosphere of downtown and the hustle and bustle of streets lined with food stalls. There were times that, on a whim, he would purchase a candied apple from one of those stalls. As far as Chungsung understood, children from wealthy families (like, for example, Dongha's classmates) tended to shy away from such coarse and vulgar environments, but--

He followed after Dongha and stepped inside. There was only one other customer inside. The bald man, wearing a faded denim jacket, looked at the conspicuously-well-dressed boy and his butler with an expression of surprise. When Chungsung gave him a look of warning, the man quickly shuffled his way out of the store, taking a smartphone out of his pocket as he did. It did not appear to be a model of phone from any of the major manufacturers.

While browsing the paper album covers featuring funk artists lined up on the shelf, Chungsung kept an eye out for the man. He remained vigilant, but the man never returned.

After a short while, Dongha selected two albums by Japanese rappers, and Chungsung handled the payment. It was inconvenient that they did not accept card payment, but Chungsung -- ever the capable butler -- of course was carrying cash as well.

As they stepped out of the shop, the winter sun had already hidden itself behind the silhouettes of the buildings, leaving only a faint orange glow behind. The wind was cold, and the shadows cast by the city stretched out far; the January night was fast approaching.

"Bocchama, I think it's time we start heading back now."

"Naturally. I'm not so foolhardy as to wander around the back streets after dark."

"Allow me to call a taxi to the post office on the main thoroughfare up ahead. I could hardly bear to show my face to my master if I were to leave his face exposed to the night wind at this time of year."

"What?" said Dongha. "You didn't even think far enough ahead to have it called in beforehand, you useless buffoon?"

"Ohhh... ♡ My sincerest apologies, Bocchama. It seems that the signal around here is still quite bad..."

After walking only a short distance, Dongha suddenly turned in a direction directly opposite the main street. While Chungsung had of course not forgotten his master's terrible sense of direction, he could only hastily attempt to course correct.

"Bocchama. You can't go that way; Goemul's Throat lies in that direction."

When Dongha replied, it was with a slightly embarrassed tone. "Of-- of course I know that. There's just something that I noti..."

"... Bocchama?"

As Dongha trailed off mid-sentence, Chungsung followed his gaze with his own eyes.

Across the street, in the valley between two buildings that were starting to be shrouded in the shadows, he could see a figure who appeared to be about Dongha's age. Then, he heard Dongha speak, a quaver of confusion in his voice.

"... is that Woojin?"

The young figure disappeared into the winter night, along with -- if Chungsung was not mistaken -- the bald man that he had seen earlier at the record store.

"Please!! ... please, I beg of you."

It was in the guest room.

Mister Yang -- Woojin's father -- had his forehead against the carpet as he appealed for help from Dongha's father, master Yeon.

"Yang, get your head off of the floor."

"Then--?"

"I'm saying that you're behaving in a manner most unsightly," said Master Yeon. "You are lucky that Yang Electronics is not in the entertainment business, because I can't imagine a future where a single won would ever change hands after such a pitiful performance."

Yang's face turned pale. Master Yeon rose from his chair and cast his gaze out the window.

"Certainly, if we use the Yeon family intelligence network and connections to their fullest, they reach even to the depths of Goemul's Throat. Our butler has also taken note of the appearance of the man that we suspect to be the culprit. We can conduct our own investigations and negotiations."

"Th-then, you--"

"But, what reason does the Yeon family to act on your behalf?"

Yang fell silent. Master Yeon was no longer looking at him.

"Your son... his name is Woojin, is it not? It certainly seems that he was talented, but there is no reason that the Yeon family should aid you in your search. The most logical thing to do would be to ask the police first."

"We've reported it to the police!" said Yang. "But even though we did, they barely set foot on that street."

"Hmph. A parent who doesn't take notice that their child is coming and going from Goemul's Throat has no right to then panic once that child goes missing," said Master Yeon. "It's not as though he is related to you by blood, after all?"

"But that's--!"

"Do you think this is a matter of emotion? You paid no mind to your son's behavior-- it shows that you secretly looked down upon him for being an adopted child. If all you want is an heir, you can simply find another replacement quickly. Otherwise..."

Yang looked toward the sky in the east and frowned as Master Yeon continued.

"If you believe that he has an irreplaceable value to you, then you should do everything you possibly can."

And with that, negotiations between the two of them stalled and did not progress further.

"That idiot. I haven't seen him at cram school lately, either..."

Later that same day, in his own room, Dongha propped up his chin with an arm on the armrest of his chair, murmuring to himself as he took a sip of honey ginger tea. Chungsung stood at his side, reporting on the happenings of the Yeon family as Dongha had instructed him to.

"With more and more young people -- even those from wealthy families -- becoming more interested in hiphop these days, it seems there has been an uptick in kidnapping cases where the victims are lured in through highly-anonymous chat apps under the guise of providing tracks or introducing them to clubs," said Chungsung. "I believe that this is another tactic that is gaining popularity."

"... so that's why the man in the record store looked surprised," Dongha said softly.

"You noticed that as well, Bocchama?"

"Of course I did," said Dongha. "A well-dressed customer like myself came in, but he did not match the description of his target-- Woojin. In all likelihood, he left the store to go contact his accomplices. They likely have their own plans and continencies in place. ... ... at any rate, the police are of no help at all, then?"

"It seems to be the case. Alter Trigger has a great deal of influence over the street in question."

The name was sure to be familiar to a member of the Yeon family. There were rumors that some of the victims in the recent kidnapping cases were being sold off to Alter Trigger as Phantometal test subjects; Dongha knew that that was not as far outside the realm of possibility as it may seem.

With a heavy sigh, Dongha picked up his own smartphone. "I am simply amazed at how idiotic Woojin was to go there alone. ... didn't he have his phone tracking turned on, or a GPS tag with him? He's unbelievably careless."

"Since they are targeting the wealthy," proposed Chungsung, "I imagine they are taking extra precautions. Do you remember how the signal got conspicuously worse as we approached the record store?"

"A signal jammer, then...? Sewer rats certainly are good at finding loopholes, aren't they?" Dongha swiped at his smartphone, a look of clear disgust on his face. "No matter how deeply Yang bows his head, I doubt my father will cooperate with the search--"

"Bocchama." Chungsung interrupted Dongha before he could finish speaking. "I think that Master Yeon's judgment is correct. Yang Electronics is a subsidiary of the Yeon conglomerate, yes; but family matters are a different arena altogether. If even the police are hesitant to investigate in Goemul's Throat, there must be a good reason for that."

"but," said Dongha, "if the Yeon family is funding Alter Trigger, then we should be able to negotiate with the key players in Goemul. If we use our underground intelligence network, then it should be simple to find one single missing child. Or am I wrong?"

"Even if that is true, there is no reason to wield that power so carelessly," said Chungsung. "As the master told Mr. Yang, there is no material benefit to the Yeon family to go to such lengths to save Woojin-sama."

"'Benefit'? Do you mean to say that there needs to be a benefit to helping someone who has been involved in a crime?"

"Bocchama, I merely mean that you are in a position where these are things that you must consider."

At Chungsung's words, Dongha's eyes widened and then became sharp. Then, his gaze fell away listlessly.

"Bocchama," said Chungsung, "why are you so concerned about Woojin-sama's safety? Unlike your other classmates, he always treats you quite disrespectfully."

"'Why'...?" Dongha echoed. "Why should I have to explain my feelings to the likes of you?" He was growing angry. He shifted, and his chair creaked; and his voice began to grow louder.
"You're my butler! You're supposed to just stupidly nod along with everything I say with that creepy smile you always have! You need to understand your position--!"

"It is precisely because I am the butler of the Yeon family."

Dongha's hand, which he had raised in order to strike Chungsung, froze. Chungsung lowered his own crimson eyes and lowered his voice. His usual carefree demeanor was entirely gone; now, it had been replaced by the stern, adult look of someone trying to stop a child from playing with fire. "And speaking as a servant of the Yeon family, I must stop you, Bocchama, from carelessly sticking your nose into danger that you do not understand. This is something on which I cannot compromise, no matter what punishment I may face for it."

"... ... I see," said Dongha. "... yeah, that's right, isn't it? I knew it the whole time!" Dongha lowered his raised hand and sank back heavily into his chair. "In the end, it isn't about me at all... you're just someone who serves the Yeon family."

All at once, Chungsung felt a painful tightness deep within his chest. It was a pain far more intense than that of being whipped or of being cut with a blade. For a moment, Chungsung's vision went distorted and out of focus. The image of Dongha before him began to change into someone else. All he could see was the hazy outline of Hajun's back, the last time that he had ever seen him.

Why did the same words from back then suddenly hurt so much now? And why was that pain not a pleasurable one?

At the time, Chungsung did not yet understand.

It was around midnight. Strangely, even though he had completed every conceivable task (including and exceeding his usual routine), Chungsung did not feel sleepy at all. It should have been his duty as a professional to get sufficient rest and be prepared for the next day, after all; but even so, Chungsung merely stared blankly at the ceiling of his quarters.

He was able to think of some reasons as to why this was. But when he tried to put them into words, the ideas seemed to waver like smoke in the wind and scatter away to a place beyond his reach. The place they escaped to seemed to lie beyond the strewn-about fragments of the heart that Chungsung had long ago discarded.

It felt like there was something burning deep inside his head; his chest tightened and his breathing became shallow. Even though it was the dead of winter, he was drenched in sweat. It felt as though he were having a nightmare even though he was wide awake. The sound of the clock's hands ticking away was strangely, unusually dull. It was a night where time itself seemed to pass by slowly.

But that stagnant time came to an abrupt end when, well after midnight, there was a knock at his door.

"Chungsung. Wake up."

Chungsung of course rushed over with all due haste to open the door. There stood Dongha, a tablet PC in hand.

"... Bocchama? Is there something I can do for you?"

"Isn't it obvious that I came here because there was something I wanted you to do? Don't waste time asking before your master tells you what he wants, you imbecile."

"Ahnn~ ♡"

"Don't start moaning just because you've been insulted!!"

Thoroughly ignoring Chungsung himself (who had at once shifted into a 'reward' state of mind), Dongha strode into Chungsung's quarters. Taking a seat on the bed with crossed legs, he swiped at the tablet to reveal what was on the screen. Chungsung knelt down to look at it.

"Bocchama, what is this...?"

"As of late, the Phantom Live market has continued growing steadily," said Dongha. "So much so that we in the Yeon family have decided to invest in Phantometal research... but behind the exponential economic growth, there are still some persistent problems about which no appropriate countermeasures are being taken. Do you understand?"

"... the inevitable drawback of using Phantometal... you mean the erosion reaction, correct?"

Dongha did not nod, but he puffed out his chest proudly. "Precisely. While the prevalance of Phantom Rappers is spreading rapidly -- mostly in Japan, the center of the trend -- there are also some parties who are raising concerns about the risk that the erosion reaction poses... though right now the market's enthusiasm for the trend is overshadowing it, it's inevitable that this problem will eventually come to the forefront. But," Dongha paused just momentarily, "foreseeable downsides are also where the seeds of a new market are sown."

Dongha's fingers brushed across the tablet, and clearly-organized data danced across the screen in turn.

"Since Phantom Lives themselves are still a new movement," he continued, "treatment technology is an untouched blue ocean market. If we are able to establish the technology first, then the profits we can expect will be unfathomably large."

"... indeed. So long as Phantometal data is the exclusive purview of Alter Trigger, it is a difficult field to gain a foothold in. At this point, the only company that could, realistically, establish a working business model would likely be the Yeon Conglomerate," said Chungsung.

"But in order to do that," said Dongha, "we'd need specialized cell analyzers to study the damaged cells. And as far as the laser technology that such a device would use goes, the forerunner in this country is--"

"Yang Electronics, yes?"

"Correct." Dongha stood up and thrust his tablet towards Chungsung. The document on the screen clearly spelled out the economic boons that could be expected if his plan was implemented. "I understand that my father wants to avoid taking unnecessary risks. However, I believe that fostering a lingering resentment on Yang's part, or else forcing him to pay a sizable ransom and take hardship upon his own business, would be future liabilities. On the other hand, if Yang Electronics were to owe us a remarkable debt of gratitude, it could pay off very handsomely in the future."

At last, Dongha placed down his tablet and looked directly at Chungsung. "This is an investment. Rather than focusing on the short-term risk management, we should be acting with an eye towards the future-- one or two steps ahead of everyone else. That is what someone worthy of the Yeon family name would do... or am I wrong, Chungsung?"

Chungsung could not respond immediately. Instead of words, something hot -- something that he did not understand -- was lodged in his throat. He swallowed it down with what saliva he could muster and began to move his quavering throat.
"Did you come up with this entire plan by yourself? To consider the important position of Yang Electronics, built out a project from the idea stage to here, and compiled this much data..."

"Of course I did," Dongha said. "How could anyone expect me to inherit the Yeon family name if I couldn't even do this much?"

"... I do suppose it's not a bad angle to approach from. But I do wonder whether the master, who has already decided that he would not get involved, would be persuaded by this argument..."

"Do you not understand why I came here?" Dongha interrupted. He fixed his gaze (which had been threatening to avert itself), and continued to stare directly at Chungsung. "The idea is my own. But pains me as it does to say this, I know that I can't persuade my father on my own. ... but as for you! ... Baek Chungsung, you are a servant who has earned a great amount of trust within the Yeon family."

Deep within his chest, Chungsung felt something click into proper place. Perhaps it was one of the gears in his heart that had become misaligned and warped long ago. Outwardly, he had pledged his loyalty; but deep down, he had still been thinking of him as nothing but a child. A sad child, a child burdened with an immense responsibility placed upon his small shoulders, a child struggling under a stifling fate that had been decided for him.

But, before he knew it...

"The ability to take what you want to do, and demonstrably elevate that into what you must do. To be able to organize your thoughts and your feelings, to confront your own limitations, and to have the courage to spur others to action when it must be done. ... I must say, you have grown into quite a fine young man, Bocchama."

Had he already grown this big?

"Enough talk," Dongha said. "If, after listening to this, you recognize my abilities..." Dongha's voice rang out in a quiet, but powerful clarity. Chungsung knew that his answer was already decided.
"Then as a butler, serve me and me alone."

"I, your humble Baek Chungsung, dedicate every last drop of my blood for your sake."

It did not take many days after that before things started happening.

During that time, Yang Woojin was being held captive in a hideout accessible from the back entrance of a ramshackle building. Although he had to face no brutal violence, it was a far cry from a pleasant environment. Even with that said, though: compared to children from wealthy families who had only ever known lives of luxury, it was probably easier to bear for Woojin, as a former orphan.

Woojin had never doubted his father's love for him. But nonetheless, his status as an adopted child was causing his anxiety to mount more and more with every passing moment. While he was trying to keep those doubts and suspicions at bay, the entrance to the hideout opened, quite a bit earlier than the scheduled time that he would be receiving food.

But instead of his kidnappers, a small figure appeared in the door, followed by an adult man.

"Guess you're not as great as you thought, are you, Woojin?"

"... Dongha!?"

While Woojin was boggling in surprise, Chungsung quickly set to untying him. He was a little bewildered when he saw Chungsung gazing at the marks left by the rope with a rather envious expression.

Dongha snorted in derision and looked down his nose at Woojin, who was frozen in shock. "Why are you just sitting there gaping like a fish? Get ready to return home, you idiot."

"... wh-why are you here??"

"Hmph. Anything is simple enough, if you're willing to put the Yeon family's intelligence network to use. You had best be grateful to your father," said Dongha. "If president Yang hadn't asked the Yeon family for help, either your life or a ransom large enough to bury the Yang family could easily have been lost."

"... my father..." Woojin bit his lip tightly to set his jaw and keep his expression from crumpling like so much tissue paper. He was mortified at his father's having to grovel to the Yeon family. The fact that he, himself, was the root cause of this was surely a heavy burden for him to bear. In this exact moment, he was unable to come to terms with his own feelings. He glared at Dongha, who was still looking down at him.

"Dongha... of all people, why did you have to be the one who helped me out... I didn't ask for this..."

Dongha laughed aloud.

"What's so funny!!"

"How utterly ridiculous that I ever wasted my breath arguing with someone like you," said Dongha. "I've no time to waste on dealing with someone so pigheadedly petty that he can't even say a simple 'thank you' after he's been helped."

"Urgh..." Woojin groaned.

"Even with the ropes undone," Dongha said, "if we abandoned you now, you wouldn't be able to go home. If you're dense enough that even that much can't get through your skull, then we'll gladly leave you behind."

"... Okay, okay, you've made your damn point!!"

Woojin was completely speechless after that. With Chungsung's help, they managed to get him out of the hideout.

But no sooner than they did, a man jumped out from behind the bushes. It was the bald man-- one of the criminals who had kidnapped Woojin in the first place.

"Halt right there!! I'm not finished y--"

"AA--"

No sooner than Woojin had begun to scream, Chungsung's foot struck the man squarely in the jaw. The man's eyes rolled back and he collapsed like a marionette with cut strings.

Chungsung adjusted his sunglasses, which had shifted askew with the force of his kick, and took a bow.

"My apologies; I had failed to finish the job. Negotiations had already been sorted out with the higher-ups, but those on the ground were somewhat uncooperative... as such, I saw necessary to demonstrate my skill in Taekwondo."

"If it were a matter of hand-to-hand combat, then even two or three men wouldn't stand a chance against Chungsung." Dongha crossed his arms and looked completely unsurprised. But, there was still a hint of pride on his face. "It was perhaps in poor taste, but this is my trusted right-hand man, after all."

It seemed that, on quite some delay, Woojin finally understood exactly how dangerous the area he had landed himself in truly was. By the time they reached the car parked behind the building, he had begun to calm down considerably. Even so, he was struggling to accept reality.

"... Dongha... sama." Before the car door closed, Woojin looked up. He had broken skin on his bitten lip, and blood was dripping from it. "... I swear! ... as the successor to Yang Electronics, I swear! I will repay this debt to the Yeon family with profits that are tens-- hundreds of times greater than ever before! I won't let anyone say that helping me was a wasted investment!"

"Hmph. Do the best you can."

Dongha got into the Yeon family car, behind the one that Woojin was riding in. As the car began to move, Chungsung -- who was driving -- looked back at Dongha in the rearview mirror and began to speak.

"But my my, bocchama. How very daring... even I could not help but break out in a cold sweat on the inside."

"There was nothing else to be done about it," Dongha said. "In the end, all that we managed to convince Father to grant us was the permission to use our covert intelligence network and a small handful of personnel. But, in the end, the results were as expected."

"... I was quite surprised that we managed to push things forward with both the Master and the head of Goemul with such hollow promises as we have already finished negotiations with the perpetrators."

"Hmph. Well, that's all because of the trust placed in you by the household and the respectability of the Yeon family name. That's how you put a powerful name to proper use." Dongha leaned his elbow on the edge of the car window and gazed out at the desolate streetscape beyond.

"But even so," said Chungsung, "I would never have imagined that you would have deigned to come all the way here yourself, Bocchama..."

"Hah!" barked Dongha. "That was just the most efficient way to demonstrate that the matter was already settled. Even in Goemul, there are few so stupid as to think that a member of the Yeon family would arrive in a luxury car without any back-up unless things were under control. And for those select few who are that dense, you are able to handle them."

"I'm simply relieved that my footwork has not grown rusty with such a long period of disuse."

"... you haven't been slacking off in your training, have you?"

The driver's seat headrest shook with a solid thud. Dongha had kicked it hard from behind.

Chungsung could not help but to smile. "It was certainly quite the dangerous situation," he said, "but your conduct was truly admirable. You even managed to hide the fact that your knees were shaking with fear until the very end..."

"I was not shaking!!" Dongha kicked the back of Chungsung's seat even harder.

"Ha, aahhhn ♡"

"Don't get so excited while you're driving, you buffoon! What if you caused an accident!?"

Of course, a skilled butler such as Chungsung would not jerk the steering wheel even in the event of a crash. He did not argue back; he was quite enjoying being scolded. Chungsung took a deep breath and glanced at Dongha in the rearview mirror. "I apologize for my rudeness. ... however, while we are here, there is one thing that I have been wondering about. May I ask you one question?"

"I'll allow it. Ask what it is you want to ask."

"In the end, why did you go to such extents to help save Woojin-sama?"

Dongha crossed his legs once more, and once more he looked out the window. "... don't get me wrong, it wasn't for his sake. It was just that when I saw Woojin's father desperately bowing his head to the floor for the sake of his child... I wondered, momentarily, if my father would do the same for me if I were in the same position. So I couldn't just ignore having seen it. ... that's all."

Chungsung took his eyes away from the rearview mirror. "The master, as your father, loves you just as deeply."

"I would like to believe that's the case..."

Then, for a while, silence reigned inside the car. Only the faint sound of the engine and the tires could be heard.

Dongha had been the one to end the conversation, but he was also the one who resumed it. "I have a question for you in return... surely, you are not so presumptuous as to ask a question of your master and then claim that you couldn't answer one, yourself, would you?"

"From my hobbies and my preferences to the location of every last one of my moles," said Chungsung, "there is nothing that I would hide from you, Bocchama. Please, feel free to inquire about anything you like."

"Why did you so readily agree to follow my plan?" asked Dongha. "I agree that there was a chance of success, but I was also aware of many flaws in the plan. As a servant of the Yeon family, you could easily have stopped me and gone along with the will of my father. But if you are a butler to the Yeon family... then why did you choose to serve me instead of my father?"

Chungsung's stunned face was reflected in the rearview mirror for a moment. Then, he narrowed his eyes behind his sunglasses and a soft smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"Bocchama, you have been listening to BAE's music a lot recently, have you not?" he said. "If you are aware of the meaning of the group's name, then I believe that may be the most suitable answer that I can provide."

"... 'Before Anyone Else', is it? I see. You appreciated my willingness to undertake the risks in the anticipation of future profits?"

Chungsung knew that the meaning behind the three letters that comprised BAE's name was more than that. And of course, Dongha knew that as well. What "BAE" meant was the person who is more important to me than anybody else^[7]. What Hajun was thinking when he named the group he was a part of, they would never know, but even so...

Dongha turned his face towards the red light of the setting sun as though it would hide the color rising to his cheeks.

"But it is true that I will do it, whatever 'it' may be. If it is for the sake of you, Bocchama, I will do anything, even prostrate myself upon the ground."

"Mph. What does it mean if you only kneel because you're into that?"

With a little more restraint than usual, Dongha's small legs kicked at the back of Chungsung's seat once more.

"So. You've put together the plan, haven't you, Chungsung?"

And so, the years continued to pass by. With the clouds racing by below them, fourteen-year-old Dongha sat in a first-class seat on an international flight. Even as they left the country's border behind them, Chungsung remained by Dongha's side in the sky.

"Yes. I have devised a unit name that befits your noble presence, Bocchama."

"It isn't enough for it to suit me. As a unit that performs the same music, it must be a name that suits 'us'. ... a name that is nobler than BAE's, that conveys a sense of majesty that will resonate throughout the entire world."

"I do believe that you will be satisfied with it." Chungsung began to fiddle with the tablet that he was holding.

Ever since then -- and quite unrelated to the Yang Woojin kidnapping case -- there had been some trouble within the Yeon family. One could argue that Chungsung was the underlying cause.

The Paradox Live had been held by the legendary unit known as Buraikan. When BAE was selected as one of the teams who would be participating, Dongha's reaction to learning that the group member 48 had actually been Hajun had been quite emphatic. The fact that his brother, who he had thought been banished into obscurity, was instead merrily enjoying life in Japan doing hiphop, and moreover that he was a rapper that Dongha had enjoyed listening to, was a completely unacceptable turn of events for Dongha.

As such, Dongha had decided to bring Chungsung with him to Japan. His goal was to crush and overthrow Hajun, the specter who had haunted his entire life, on his own home field. And so, that meant he had to make his mark in Japan's underground live music scene as a rapper.

"I thought that you might eventually make this choice, Bocchama, so I felt that it was worth the effort of learning trackmaking with the assistance of a major production company..."

"Quit blithering and show me what you've got already, you nitwit."

"Ahhh ♡ Yes, yes of course..."

After being struck by a custom-made Phantometal cane, Chungsung presented the screen of his tablet to Dongha. It was not text, but rather a digital image. Their team logo had already been completed.

Dongha narrowed his eyes and read aloud the name that was inscribed upon the symbol -- which resembled a crown atop a spider.

"'AMPRULE'... a completely invented word. Is it supposed to mean something?"

"Of course. It combines 'amp', as in reference to sound equipment, with 'rule', signifying that you -- Bocchama -- will rule the new Phantom Live scene. Further, it evokes the French word for 'emperor', empereur."
Chungsung bowed respectfully. He was not lying. But, lying within the sound of "AMPRULE" was another meaning.

Ampleur -- a French word, meaning expansiveness or abundance.

On that day, Chungsung saw tremendous potential in Dongha. Quite different from the raw strength of Master Yeon or Hajun's sharpness, it was a warmth that could shine on others as well as himself. Even if he could not win the competition, he could still move peoples' hearts.

That was a virtue that only Dongha possessed-- the mark of a true king, not of a conqueror. Hence, Chungsung incorporated it into their unit's name. It was not the pain itself that brought him joy, but rather the joy of dedicating himself to a master that he respected. There was an endless joy in servitude.

"I see. It's not bad."

Chungsung bowed his head happily at receiving praise from his master.

Soon, the light meal that Chungsung had ordered beforehand was brought out to them. A plate of Japanese sakura shrimp quiche, accompanied by a mocktail of sencha green tea and tonic, was brought forth and served to Dongha. Upon catching sight of it, Dongha frowned.

"... what is this."

"I thought that it would be prudent to allow you to sample Japan with your tongue before we arrived in the country proper, so I ordered the sakura shrimp, which are in season in early spring--"

"NOT THAT! Why is there a cat plush toy on this tray!?"

"Ah, yes," said Chungsung. "That is the mascot of the airline that operates these international flights. There was an option to receive a 'plushie' with your in-flight meal, and so I elected for the cat one in accordance with your tastes, and--"

"Who on earth asked for this!? Don't treat me like a child! You blithering moron!!"

Dongha rammed the tip of his cane into Chungsung's side.

"Ah, ahhh, Bocchamaaa! I'm terribly sorry! Ahhhnn ♡"

Back on that day, Chungsung began to understand the true joy of servitude towards Dongha. But even so, once a particular proclivity takes root, it is very difficult to change it. Even with that joy of servitude, Chungsung still desired what he desired. Sincere loyalty and twisted pleasure were, without a doubt, the twin driving forces that shaped Baek Chungsung.

Under this master, he felt fulfilled. He was certain that that would continue unabated forever.

The gaenari flowers swayed in the spring breeze as if they were bidding their farewell to the airplane headed into the east.

[1] This refers to a form of BDSM play wherein the dominant partner neglects the submissive partner for the purposes of sexual gratification. [Back]
[2] This is all really hard to explain so just go look up information about zaibatsu and chaebol because I can't do it in a way that will make it any clearer because my understanding of business and economics is ~*not articulate*~ [Back]
[3] The Analects are also known as the Sayings of Confucius. I'm using this name here because the quotations begin with (as I am choosing to phrase it) 'per Confucius', so this avoids some redundancy. [Back]
[4] This is not a direct translation -- literally, he says "people who don't know where the term 'ハプニング' comes from". ハプニング, or happening, refers to a particular artistic movement that prefigures modern performance art, but has also become a loanword in Japanese that simply means an unexpected coincidence. Basically: he's saying they're at an art museum, but they don't know that a common phrase comes from art history, and thus they are uncultured. Because this doesn't make any sense in English, I've changed the line but tried to keep the effect intact. [Back]
[5] I'm guessing at the romanization. Note that the name is given in Kanji as 梁友珍. [Back]
[6] This is referencing a Korean idiom. I think the meaning is fairly clear -- wanting a pheasant, but having to settle for a chicken -- but I just wanted to note that it is specifically an idiom. [Back]
[7] As in the BAE novel, when the words 'before anyone else' are capitalized, they are in English in the original text, and then being restated in Japanese afterwards. [Back]