A savory seafood pancake, a doenjang-jjigae (soybean paste stew) that seemed to have more beef brisket than broth, and spicy steamed clams – considering the remarkably swift preparation, the overall menu was quite impressive, a testament to the skill involved.
“Hoo,” Dokgojin exclaimed, a sound of genuine appreciation, as he straightened his posture, settling more formally at the table.
His demeanor was noticeably different from his usual casual approach to meals, a stark contrast to the effortless, expected sustenance he received daily in the East Sea.
Here, the meal felt like an event, an offering to be savored.
Hakyung, seeing the East Sea Imugi brimming with such unreserved enthusiasm, also appeared visibly nervous, a subtle tension in his shoulders and a slight tremor in his hands.
The weight of Dokgojin’s expectations, though unspoken, seemed to press upon him.
“You don’t have any oxalis allergies, do you?”
Hakyung inquired, his voice a little strained with polite concern.
“Of course not, how could I?”
Dokgojin scoffed, a dismissive sound.
As an Imugi, a powerful and ancient being, he was far beyond the petty ailments that afflicted mere merfolk or humans.
Such trivial complaints were beneath him, an absurd notion to even consider.
With a confident flourish, Dokgojin picked up the neatly placed chopsticks, their polished surface reflecting the ambient light.
Shall I taste the river dolphin’s skill then?
The thought crossed Dokgojin’s mind, accompanied by a broad smile that transparently conveyed his intentions.
Hakyung, observing this, felt an inexplicable prickle of anxiety, his palms beginning to sweat.
It was odd, as he wasn’t preparing a meal for a critical mother-in-law, yet the pressure was undeniable.
Perhaps it was simply the presence of his boss’s long-standing, formidable friend that invoked such a reaction.
Even these seemingly minor details, the quality of the meal and the overall hospitality, could subtly influence the boss’s formidable Imugi reputation.
Hakyung exhaled a short, quiet sigh to himself, a tiny release of nervous energy.
He then instinctively leaned his head back, resting the base of his skull against the boss’s broad, comforting chest.
It was a minor frustration that he couldn’t feel the softness of Muheon’s hair due to the cap, but despite this small detail, Hakyung found solace in seeking out a place to snuggle, allowing himself to express a moment of affection.
It was a familiar, comforting gesture, and the situation, despite the underlying tension, was not entirely unpleasant.
Muheon, in turn, gently rubbed Hakyung’s stiff cheek, a tender gesture of reassurance, before effortlessly pulling out a chair.
“Let’s eat too, sit down.”
Muheon’s words were a quiet invitation.
Dokgojin’s lips twitched almost imperceptibly at Muheon’s unconscious act of naturally seating Hakyung first, a gesture of ingrained consideration.
The thought, Here comes the king of manners, the Imugi, naturally popped into his head, a wry amusement coloring his observation of his friend’s surprising gentility.
“I’ll eat well. It looks very appetizing.”
Dokgojin declared, his voice hearty with anticipation.
“Yes. Please enjoy your meal!”
Hakyung replied, his voice bright and eager.
Dokgojin, his mouth curving even more at the cheerful reply, wasted no time.
His chopsticks moved with practiced precision, first dipping into the doenjang-jjigae broth.
After that initial taste, the food vanished with astonishing speed, as if a hungry crab were devouring its prey, each bite swallowed almost instantly.
My word, to think there was a land merfolk with such good cooking skills!
Dokgojin continued to marvel inwardly, his surprise evident in his rapid, unceasing chopstick movements.
His eating pace never faltered, a testament to his enjoyment.
Fortunately, it seemed he had indeed served food perfectly suited to Dokgojin’s palate, bringing a wave of profound relief to Hakyung.
The validation was a balm to his nerves.
Now that his appetite had finally returned, Hakyung moved his chopsticks with renewed vigor and speed.
Muheon, for his part, was never one for excessive chatter, regardless of the situation.
This meant that typically, during mealtimes, it was Hakyung who bore the brunt of the conversation, filling the silences with his lively chatter.
However, at this moment, his mind was entirely occupied with the food, leaving him with no mental capacity to engage in a leisurely conversation with Dokgojin.
Because of this, the meal unfolded in a sustained silence, punctuated only by the sounds of eating.
The fortunate aspect was that, despite the quietude, every individual perfectly emptied their portions, leaving no trace of the delicious fare.
The shared satisfaction in the cleared plates was the only communication needed.
“Wow, that was a great meal!”
Dokgojin exclaimed, his voice brimming with satisfaction.
He had effortlessly finished three bowls of rice, leaving his plates sparkling clean, and now he laughed cheerfully, a genuine sound of contentment.
Hakyung smiled back, a soft, beaming expression mirroring Dokgojin’s delight.
There was always an immense pleasure in seeing someone genuinely enjoy food he had prepared, and Dokgojin’s enthusiastic consumption was no exception.
***
Hakyung, who had, quite inadvertently, passed the “test” Dokgojin had presented to him with flying colors, now found himself seated directly across from the formidable Imugi.
A small part of him wished Muheon were still by his side; his presence would have offered a comforting buffer.
However, the boss had descended to the office for an urgent matter some time ago, and had yet to return.
Consequently, the responsibility of handling the post-meal hospitality, the delicate art of entertaining a distinguished guest, rested entirely upon Hakyung’s shoulders.
The East Sea Imugi, seemingly unburdened by any pressing commitments, exuded an air of profound leisure.
He sipped his tea with unhurried grace, interspersing his sips with a continuous stream of questions, his demeanor utterly relaxed.
Hakyung, acutely aware of his own duties as an employee, knew he shouldn’t be spending his time like this.
Yet, he lacked the courage to simply tell Dokgojin to return to the East Sea immediately.
His boldness, he realized, was a trait reserved exclusively for his boss, Muheon, and did not extend to other powerful beings.
In the end, Hakyung found himself compelled to serve as Dokgojin’s conversational companion, unable to voice any complaints or objections.
He simply acquiesced, listening patiently and responding as required.
The one silver lining, the hopeful aspect of the situation, was that despite Dokgojin’s somewhat aggressive and direct tone, the actual content of his words was remarkably similar to the advice his grandmother used to impart.
This surprising familiarity provided a measure of comfort, making the current one-on-one interaction far more tolerable than when they had first met in private.
The connection to his grandmother’s wisdom softened the edges of Dokgojin’s imposing presence.
“I brought this, but I was debating whether or not to give it to the young River Dolphin after lunch.”
Dokgojin began, his tone conspiratorial and secretive, adding an air of mystery to his words.
He then patted his thick chest, a gesture indicating the concealed item.
“Yes? What is it…?”
Hakyung inquired, a nervous laugh escaping him.
Surely he doesn’t mean he brought chest muscles, he thought, his mind racing to comprehend Dokgojin’s enigmatic behavior and the intense look in his eyes.
He felt an inexplicable urge to refuse whatever it was, even before he knew its nature.
However, true to the assertive nature of an East Sea Imugi, Dokgojin disregarded Hakyung’s awkwardness.
He pulled a lucky pouch from within his chest, his movements deliberate, and firmly placed it in Hakyung’s hand.
Then, with a proud, self-satisfied smile, he began to articulate a lengthy explanation of the item he had just bestowed upon him.
“As for that, it’s made from seaweeds that grow in the deep waters below Dokdo, the cleanest area in the East Sea.”
Dokgojin’s voice carried an air of reverence for the origin of the gift.
“Ah… yes… I see.”
Hakyung nodded seriously, his expression earnest, still completely unaware of what the lucky pouch actually contained.
With a listener whose eyes sparkled with such genuine interest, Dokgojin found himself compelled to elaborate, even if it meant embellishing the story.
The sheer attentiveness from Hakyung was an irresistible invitation for further narration.
Of course, he soon gave up on inventing elaborate tales, realizing he simply wasn’t skilled at telling interesting stories.
The urge to impress with narrative flair quickly faded, replaced by a more direct approach.
“As you know, we Imugis are a bit special, aren’t we? Hmm, you don’t know yet?”
Dokgojin paused, a sly glint in his eye. He then pointed to his own center with a deliberate finger.
Hakyung’s gaze, following the direction of Dokgojin’s finger, immediately dropped, and his ears turned a vivid scarlet.
So it’s not just the boss, all Imugis have that… two of them, he realized, a sudden, mortifying understanding dawning upon him.
“Hmm? You don’t know?”
Dokgojin pressed, feigning surprise.
“No! I know, I know.”
Hakyung blurted out, his voice laced with a frantic embarrassment.
He knew all too well, having been excitedly sucking and kissing just last weekend.
Whenever he spent a night with the boss, Hakyung’s appetite would completely return, as if he were a famished glutton.
Each time, the boss would laugh in exasperation, his amusement evident, and tell him to calm down, but it was no use.
Since he couldn’t fully receive it all “below” – a veiled reference to the physical act – Hakyung compensated by greedily indulging his desires elsewhere, satisfying his craving in other ways.
As for “below,” perhaps because the frequency of that particular act wasn’t high, he consistently failed to fully embrace it, always falling short of complete satisfaction.
Recalling the last time he was defeated by Muheon’s penis, a wave of profound disappointment washed over Hakyung, causing his appetite to vanish instantly.
He slowly put down his fork, his face settling into a sullen, crestfallen expression.
Even the hole at the top of his head pulsed slowly, erratically, as if it too were protesting the emotional stress, a visible manifestation of his dejection.
“Oh, so you know, do you?”
With an even more sly and knowing look, Dokgojin continued his explanation, enjoying Hakyung’s obvious discomfort.
“Then you’ll definitely need that! It’s made from healthy, fresh seaweeds. It has potent energy, so keep it safe and use it.”
Dokgojin’s voice was firm, emphasizing the item’s importance.
***
“Hmm… when should I use this potent, sacred item?”
Hakyung inquired, his voice a quiet murmur, a mix of curiosity and deference.
“That’s obviously when you’re bedding Muheon!”
Dokgojin declared, his voice rising slightly in exasperation, as if to say, Can’t you tell just by looking?
He tapped the table impatiently, a rhythmic thud that underscored his frustration.
At Dokgojin’s blunt words, Hakyung quickly peered inside the lucky pouch.
Within, he discovered a dark green liquid encased in a transparent glass bottle, its appearance strikingly suspicious.
When Hakyung picked up the bottle and gently shook it, the liquid swished with a dense, heavy consistency, strongly resembling the gel he himself prepared.
The tactile sensation reinforced his initial assessment.
“Thank you, I’ll be sure to use it well.”
Hakyung said, his gratitude genuine.
“Tsk! This isn’t some common item to thank so nonchalantly. Even I only use it once every few years with my wife because it’s so hard to find and so effective!”
Dokgojin admonished, a note of wounded pride in his voice.
“Oh… is that so. Wow, I’m really looking forward to it!”
Hakyung quickly amplified his expression of joy, trying to convey a more enthusiastic appreciation, sensing Dokgojin’s displeasure.
The longer he spent in the company of an Imugi from another region, the more his longing to see his boss grew, a proportional increase in his desire for Muheon’s reassuring presence.
Only after Hakyung reiterated his thanks several times did Dokgojin finally break into a languid, satisfied smile.
He could almost envision the hardships endured by the East Sea merfolk under Dokgojin’s rule, even without having witnessed it directly.
The thought sent a slight shiver down his spine.
Hakyung was struck anew by the profound realization that being found and taken in by his boss was truly an act of immense fortune, as if he had drawn upon every ounce of universal energy to secure such luck.
It was an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
“I’ve never given this to any other sea Imugis. I even hoard it carefully because it’s so precious to me…”
Dokgojin continued to elaborate, his eyes gleaming with a covetous intensity, like a crow fixated on a shimmering object.
It seemed the East Sea Imugi had an extraordinary knack for boasting, extracting every last drop of credit from his generosity.
The unspoken thought, If it’s so good, why don’t you use it yourself?
almost rose to Hakyung’s throat, but he was a river dolphin who knew his manners, and he swallowed the impertinent remark.
He carefully tucked the lucky pouch away again, ensuring it was well-secured.
Then, Hakyung responded with a charming smile, one that had captivated neighborhood elders for over two decades, a testament to his innate grace and politeness.
“I’ll use it at a truly important moment. I’ll even boast to the boss that Dokgojin-nim gave it to me.”
Hakyung’s promise was heartfelt, a genuine expression of his intent.
“Hmm hmm, that’s right. A discerning young river dolphin.”
Dokgojin’s lips curled in a slight smirk as he cleared his throat, a sound of pleased affirmation.
As Hakyung confirmed Dokgojin’s improved mood, a trickle of cold sweat ran down his forehead, and the hole at the top of his head twitched irregularly, as if protesting the immense mental stress he was enduring.
How long had Hakyung been listening to Dokgojin’s endless self-praise?
It felt like an eternity. Then, finally, Muheon returned, having completed his urgent business.
“Boss!”
Hakyung’s voice was filled with a fervent relief, welcoming Muheon’s return with an intensity that surpassed any previous occasion.
The hair peeking out from under his cap was visibly damp, and his cheeks seemed to have thinned, becoming noticeably hollowed in the interim.
How much had he been tormenting his precious partner?
Muheon’s mood rapidly soured, a flash of protective fury in his eyes.
He let out a low growl, directed squarely at Dokgojin.
“That’s enough clowning around. Why don’t you return to your own territory now?”
Muheon’s words were sharp, a thinly veiled command.
“Clowning around? Bah! Clowning around! How good a thing I’ve…”
Dokgojin began to protest, but Muheon abruptly cut him off mid-sentence.
“Enough. Sang-oh, escort him out personally.”
Muheon’s voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.
At his summons, Sang-oh appeared from somewhere, hurrying over to politely escort Dokgojin. While Sang-oh’s demeanor was outwardly respectful, the force with which he pushed Dokgojin’s back was notably impudent, a clear message in itself.
Hmph, really!
Who’s the one clowning around now?
Dokgojin thought, a surge of indignant amusement bubbling within him.
He was convinced that Muheon’s behavior was purely driven by jealousy, a petty resentment at Dokgojin having spent time alone with his partner.
Dokgojin swallowed a breath, a silent acknowledgment of Muheon’s small-mindedness, and began to move.He walked away with a confident stride, certain that in a few days, that guy would even bow to him, profusely thanking him for the generous gift.
The thought brought a smirk to his lips.