Babysitting Mafia Is More Than Just Wearing a Bunny Suit

Babysitting Is All About Not Making Mistakes

A hot summer night, a painful one-night stand. That was all Lee Yoohan could remember after he punched a man wearing all-black clothes.

That was his first mistake.

Yoohan didn't think much about that night anymore, burying it beneath all the unnecessary thoughts. For some reason, the short conversation he did with the man was able to shed some of his doubt and lightened his heart just for a little bit, bringing his mind even more sure to walk this path of atonement.

Or maybe because he was able to shed so many tears that night.

Didn't matter, it was just an uncanny encounter. He wouldn't meet that man again, who seemed to live in a different world from him anyway.

That thought was his second mistake.

But anyway, Yoohan continued his new life, working hard to pay for his debts, mindlessly waking up to work and sleeping in perpetual nightmares. He took jobs whatever, wherever, crawling here and there to seek vacancy.

It was good, no leeway for unnecessary thought. It was easy for him to forget something as meaningless as twenty minutes of sex.

He mainly did jobs that needed stamina and muscle, manual labor with minimum wage or under, two or three jobs a day. After using the money to pay for interest, he barely had enough for two cheap meals and stuffy goshiwon rent.

But sometimes, a bigger gig would come his way, although it didn't mean Yoohan always liked it. This time, for example, it came from his former boss, the loan shark's director.

Yoohan wouldn't go there again if he could, the place reminded him so much of his sins and mistakes. But he couldn't exactly say no when the man demanded him to come.

"I won't do any collecting job," Yoohan said in a firm tone.

"You think I'll let you do any after you lost my ten million?" the boss laughed in a grating sound like usual. "No, brat—I'm giving you a decent gig for once, so you should thank me instead,"

The boss threw him a name card in vulgar red color and golden frame. It bounced off Yoohan's chest and he had to bend over to pick it up.

"My dongsaeng needs a pretty boy scum for an escort job, so you do it,"

Yoohan paused a bit at the word escort, sighing inwardly. Of course, this man had been waiting for Yoohan to keel over and sold his body to him—how could any work come from him be decent?

"The money will cover your interest for this month, ain't it sweet? You oughta thank me, boy," the man leered at Yoohan's bent waist, lips curling into a smirk. "Who knows—if you work hard enough, they'll give you a nice tip."

Yoohan swallowed the curse as he picked the card from the floor and immediately straightened his back. There was an address of a certain club that doubled as an escort agency. Figured.

"Use that face and body for a bit, hmm?" the boss grinned at Yoohan's deadpan eyes, the glare still retaining that tough cookie from last year. It was a shame, really—Lee Yoohan was one of his best collectors. "If you got a taste for more, I can set it up for you,"

There was no question about what kind of setup the boss meant as the old man licked his lips while staring at Yoohan up and down. Wordlessly, Yoohan just turned around and slammed the stuffy office door with the sound of a grating cackle in the background.

Staring impassively at the card, Yoohan thought that at least, he wasn't forced to shoot weird porn.

* * *

"Hmm...well, not bad," the man who was waiting for Yoohan—the boss's dongsaeng or whatever—staring at the blonde with an unimpressed gaze. "Ugh, yeah well, at least your face is not bad."