Ding-dong!

The first of August, and the day is close. The fifth floor of a low-rise block in Sillim, with no lift either.

A shower had come down suddenly, and a delivery man in a helmet and a rain cape pressed the bell.

"Hoooooo……"

Every time he breathed out, the hot air of it leaked from inside the mask and mixed with the warm air outside.

Weather at thirty-six degrees, and hotter than that to feel.

The shower that had come down for a moment had only added a steaming to the air outside.

Breathing is uncomfortable enough that a man should hold off going out unless he must.

The humidity has struck a hundred per cent.

He had run up to the fifth floor and pressed the bell; there was no response, and the door did not open.

Ding-dong!

Driving his breath hard in and out, the delivery man pressed the bell again.

A special set for one, jjajangmyeon with tangsuyuk included, price thirteen thousand won.

It does not look as though selling that set leaves the Chinese restaurant's owner any profit at all.

But a man has to earn his living day by day, and a capitalist ecosystem is a thing he has no choice but to adapt to.

If the delivery is held up much longer here, the jjajangmyeon will swell and the taste will go off.

There was still no response, and the delivery man was about to press the bell again.

Rattle!

The old door opened noisily.

"Ah! Fuck! Why do you press the bell twice, you bastard!"

There seems to be no air conditioning inside; hot air came at him in a rush the moment the door opened.

The man, somewhere in his late thirties, has put on enough flesh that it is hot just to look at him. He is wearing nothing but a pair of red boxer trunks with a back pocket, and is stripped above the waist.

Face, neck, body, all of it a mess of sweat.

The sweat-wet body is covered by a snake tattoo that wraps down from the…