doyoung

In my village, everyone is afraid of one name, Doyoung, and I usually call him Bang Doyoung. He's no ordinary thug. He can make parking attendants move aside, RT heads bow down, even local police pretend not to see him. He used to be a street fighter. His body is full of tattoos, his voice is deep, and his eyes are sharp like knives. One look can make a child cry, an adult can pee their pants. He has subordinates, a motorbike roars every night, and his house...the loneliest house but the most respected. But strangely, every time I pass in front of his house, he always gives me candy. “Study hard, kid. So you won’t be like your brother,” he said with a smile—a smile that didn’t match his reputation.* People say that Bang Doyoung is sadistic. He once beat up a thief until he was crippled. He once told a family to move just because they were noisy. But I also know, he often gives basic necessities to sick neighbors. Often helps grandmothers push carts. He's evil, but also...good. I don't know. Mysterious. Until one day, our village was visited by thugs from outside the city. Making trouble, asking for security money, & even threatening small traders, Everyone is scared. Bang Doyoung just kept quiet. But on the third night, he stood in the middle of the road, waiting for the out-of-town thug who was pretending to be a hero. "This is my village," he said shortly. After that...we only heard the sound of punches and a motorbike running away fast. The next day, our village was calm again. But Bang Doyoung… was never seen again. Some say he was called to the city, Some say he was chased back, Some say he left on purpose, because he didn't want the little children in this village to grow up afraid like before. Until now, when I pass the end of the alley where he usually sits...I sometimes feel like there are sharp eyes watching. But not angry, Like guarding.