Chapter 1: Chunrak Circus

“It’s truly ridiculous.”

‘And yet you people pay money just to see something so ridiculous—how noble you must be.’

Watching the faces twisted with deep disgust and petty superiority, that thought crossed my mind.

The jeers flying toward the stage stirred a childish rage inside me.

Even though I had been part of the same show for five years now, I could never get used to those cheap insults.

“A man with a d*ck—no pride at all!”

The man who shouted that, his face all crumpled, was secretly swelling the front of his trousers.

If I could, I would have thrown that man out immediately—his eyes greasy with undisguised lust.

‘Don’t you dare look at Gyesa like that.’

Rough breaths slipped through my slightly parted lips.

Heat rushed all the way to my head, my face burning hot.

But Gyesa onstage had no way of knowing my heart was blackening as it burned.

If anything, he looked like he was enjoying the commotion, parting his red lips in a wide grin.

Carried through an old American-made speaker, Gyesa’s clear laughter filled the tent.

At the mischievous sound that seemed to steal the listener’s soul, the mouths that had been hurling sharp words snapped shut.

Only then did Gyesa nod calmly, as if satisfied, and step up to the microphone.

Right on cue, the band’s accompaniment cut through the silence.

“Life runs across the boundless plain.

Where is it you are headed?”

Even the grating noise from the worn-out speakers couldn’t drown out his singing.

His pleasantly low voice flowed with elaborate technique layered atop it.

A well-built man with such a pretty face singing so sweetly—it was always a strange sight.

Yet somehow, it suited Gyesa perfectly.

The audience couldn’t tear their eyes away, staring as if enchanted.

The contradiction between the lyrical melody and his sly, provocative demeanor overwhelmed the crowd.

It was obvious, even without asking, that something indecent was quietly blooming in their chests.

Seeing straight through their thoughts, my grip tightened on the thick blackout curtain separating the stage from the waiting area.

Clinging close to the fabric, I watched Gyesa with a mix of awe at his beauty and anxiety over not being able to possess it alone.

From the black, long hair I had brushed hundreds of times, a glossy sheen flowed.

When Gyesa swept it back, his refreshing features were revealed—especially those eyes curved like a snake’s tail.

The small mole beneath his right eye, too.

Beneath a high, straight nose that knew no fear of the sky, lips redder than blood parted as he sang, drawing the gaze irresistibly.

Even standing atop a low platform, old and peeling in places, he shone brighter than anyone there.

Suddenly, I remembered something he used to say out of habit.

“This pathetic circus—I’ll leave the moment I save enough money.

I’ll build a grand mansion in the capital and keep at least twenty servants.

Of course, I’ll even have a couple of servants sing in my place.

I’m sick to death of singing myself.”

Yes.

Just as he said, Gyesa belonged somewhere far more dazzling than cheap lights and a tattered tent.

But whenever he said that, the circus members only sneered.

“All you’ve learned are useless tricks—what would you even do out there?”

“Ha! And with what money?

Even if you wore your d*ck down serving rich ladies, you’d never pay off your debts!”

At their mockery, Gyesa threw his fists straight at their faces.

But I knew.

Gyesa was a man who followed through once he set his mind.

As a child, like me, he had only run errands for the troupe.

Then one day, teeth clenched, he learned to handle grotesque snakes and stepped onto the stage.

He didn’t stop there—he mastered singing too, mesmerizing people until he became the circus’s undisputed star.

After that, even the money-hungry ringmaster and the mocking performers no longer dared treat him lightly.

So if Gyesa decided to leave the circus, he would make it happen no matter what.

‘Just look now.

Everyone’s completely entranced by Gyesa singing.’

The audience stared at him as if nailed in place.

My eyes darted busily, following their gazes, but no one noticed—every mind was fixed on the platform.

Those gentlemen sitting stiffly with furrowed brows must be first-timers.

Those punks standing in the corner spewing crude jokes—no doubt they’d blown two days’ wages just to show off.

Not worth a glance.

But those ladies discreetly wiping sweat and swallowing hard—inside, they’re indulging in something quite indecent.

Spotting well-dressed women in modern hanbok and veiled fedoras, my trembling eyes shifted back to Gyesa.

Sure enough, his gaze was directed at them too.

He even stuck out his tongue and licked his lower lip.

At that sight, my heart dropped hard, a sharp ache stabbing one corner of it.

‘He won’t be coming back tonight either.’

I gnawed at my rough lower lip, but nothing changed.

Since he became an adult, Gyesa staying out overnight hadn’t been once or twice.

Yet every time I witnessed it with my own eyes, my heart felt torn to shreds—something I could never get used to.

“Hey, you idiot!

What are you spacing out for?

Get ready already!”

The rough hand yanking painfully at my ear gave me no time to sink into despair.

The vice-ringmaster, brows drawn tight in anger, looked ready to strike me at any moment.

Flustered, I hurriedly stepped back from the curtain and opened the door of a large wooden crate beside me.

Sssssk.

With a skin-crawling scraping sound, a smooth, massive body slid out of the box and disappeared beyond the curtain.

“W-what is that?”

“Aah! A snake!”

As a python as thick as a beam emerged between the tents, screams erupted throughout the seating area.

The golden serpent slithered leisurely across the dirt floor, as if out for a casual stroll.

Whenever it approached, the audience turned pale, scrambling backward to get away.

Watching their ridiculous reactions, Gyesa’s smile only grew brighter.

And the brighter his smile, the more wildly my heart pounded.

After terrifying the audience for a while, the python seemed to grow bored and turned back toward Gyesa.

Even as the huge snake climbed up his legs, he stood elegant and unmoving, continuing to sing.

“This tear-made world,

If I die, will that be the end.

Lives seeking happiness,

Is what you seek all in vain—.”

When the python wrapped itself around Gyesa’s body and flicked its forked tongue, the audience swallowed hard in tension.

And watching from behind the stage, I was no different.

As the snake tightened around his torso, Gyesa’s voice trembled as if his breath might fail.

His face, once powdered pale as paper, flushed red as blood rushed to it.

When the python finally opened its jaws wide, screams burst out everywhere.

Yet no one looked away.

In that moment, when the tent was stretched to the breaking point with tension and fear, Gyesa curved his eyes into a smile and kissed the grotesque snake.

At once, as if under a spell, the serpent went limp, its strength draining away.

Color returned to Gyesa’s face in an instant.

With the snake draped over him, he waved leisurely, and the audience erupted into thunderous applause.

“Well, well—how strange.”

“That snake’s not dead, is it?”

Only when the lively applause drifted faintly through the curtain did I finally let out a breath of relief.

I knew how long Gyesa and that python had worked together, yet whenever that yellow beast squeezed him with all its might, I couldn’t help fearing his neck would snap.

No matter how many times I saw it, my legs went weak and my heart thundered.

Clutching my pounding chest, I sank down, exhaling shaky breaths.

“What are you doing there?”

At the curt but familiar voice above me, I looked up to see its owner.

It was Gyesa, his face sharp and prickly as if he had never smiled at all.

“Don’t block the way.

Move.”

At his sharp command, fatigue evident in his eyes, I hurried to stand.

But perhaps because my legs felt unsteady, I stumbled.

“Ah—!”

The moment a small cry slipped out, Gyesa’s eyes widened and he grabbed my arm.

Despite his delicate looks, his large hand—proving he was a man—wrapped easily around my thin, unimpressive arm.

The heat of his hand through my thin clothes couldn’t have been my imagination.

From where we touched, warmth spread through my whole body, tickling my heart.

[Footnotes]