Chapter 3
After escaping from Min Pil-seong, Seung-hyun returned to his office.
A moment later, Park Young-hoon from the Corporate Planning Office followed him inside.
“I’ve been assigned to support the New Business Division. My name is Park Young-hoon. I look forward to working with you.”
“It’s been a while. I look forward to working with you as well.”
“I’ve just sent an official notice to each department’s advisor, asking them to submit the list of TF candidates. Once the members have been selected, I’ll introduce them to you again.”
“Manager Park.”
As Seung-hyun loosened the buttons of his jacket and sat down, he called his name.
Standing across the desk with both hands clasped, Park Young-hoon’s eyes lit up.
“Yes, Executive Director.”
“Why did you volunteer for this project?”
“Well… I wanted to improve my abilities under your guidance and contribute more to the company—”
Seung-hyun raised a hand, cutting him off.
Park Young-hoon’s brain immediately went into overdrive, trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind the question.
Who was Min Seung-hyun?
The second son of Chairman Min.
A legendary master of savage criticism.
A terrifying man capable of reducing anyone’s mental resilience to that of a sunfish.
If it weren’t for that ruthless personality, he never would have survived becoming an executive at such a young age.
From the very beginning, Seung-hyun had openly acknowledged that he was a nepotism hire, yet his aggressive way of handling work had forced everyone to admit his ability, however reluctantly.
The man standing before him was exactly that kind of person.
“Manager Park.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ve changed a little during my four years in America.”
Young-hoon’s Adam’s apple bobbed nervously.
Resting his chin on his interlocked fingers, Seung-hyun narrowed his eyes.
“I’m generous enough now to overlook the kind of report you submitted four years ago—the one that looked like a tissue someone had blown their nose into.”
He smiled faintly.
“I’ve forgotten the Manager Park who couldn’t distinguish typos from decimal points or emphasis marks, and who filled reports with nothing but personal assumptions.”
It had only happened once.
The day after a company dinner, Young-hoon had been too hungover to properly proofread a report.
Seung-hyun had summoned him…
…and completely destroyed him.
Yet after all these years, Seung-hyun still remembered even that trivial mistake.
Young-hoon had finally been promoted from assistant manager to manager.
Now the fragile mentality he thought he’d buried long ago was resurfacing.
Fighting back the urge to cry, he lowered his head.
“So…”
Seung-hyun continued casually,
“Screen out anyone who can’t handle numbers.”
“Anyone who can’t write proper Korean.”
“And anyone who’s rich.”
For a moment, Young-hoon felt as though Seung-hyun were describing him personally.
Unable to meet his eyes, he awkwardly cleared his throat.
He had volunteered for this project hoping to make up for his past mistakes.
Instead, he was already drowning in regret.
After silently repeating Seung-hyun’s conditions to himself, he bowed and turned to leave.
Then a question that had been bothering him finally slipped out.
“Executive Director…”
“Yes?”
“Why… no rich people?”
Seung-hyun looked up from the approval documents he had just opened.
“Oh.”
“If you’re rich…”
“…you don’t know how frightening compensation money can be.”
“…Excuse me?”
“Gang compensation.”
“The money you pay after getting into a fight.”
Young-hoon’s lips sealed shut.
In other words—
If you step out of line, I’ll beat you half to death.
And if you thought money could protect you, you’d suffer even more.
It was also another way of saying:
Know your place.
Young-hoon felt exactly as Seung-hyun had described—
Like a crumpled tissue after blowing his nose.
After offering a stiff bow to the icy executive, he left the office with slumped shoulders.
At the same moment, Seung-hyun’s phone rang.
The caller was one of the very few people who knew his private number.
The very person responsible for today’s mess.
Grinding his teeth, he answered the call, spun his chair toward the window, and frowned.
“Park Gyu-jin.”
“I heard what happened! What’s going on? What’s with those articles? Did Taeha really suppress them?”
The questions poured out like machine-gun fire the instant she picked up.
She sounded so desperate that it almost seemed as though she were asking,
“Why did you suppress them?”
“Shouldn’t you be thanking me for having them buried?”
“Oh? You want me to bow to you?”
“I wouldn’t mind.”
He smirked.
“You don’t seem to be getting much camera attention these days. You must have plenty of free time.”
“Hey! Min Seung-hyun! If you can’t say something nice—”
Chuckling softly, Seung-hyun rubbed the crease between his brows.
“Anyway, everything’s clean on my side.”
“You take care of your side.”
“Don’t drag my face into the news.”
“And don’t let my name appear anywhere.”
“Yes, yes.”
She huffed.
“I’m going to track down every paparazzo who took those pictures and sue them all.”
“Handle that however you want.”
“…Should I just quit acting?”
“If you’ve got enough money, then do it.”
“I do have plenty.”
“If you’re planning for retirement, talk to an insurance consultant.”
“I hear they’ll insure anyone these days.”
“I’m not like that.”
“I ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“What? Hey!”
Ignoring the rest of Gyu-jin’s protests, Seung-hyun ended the call.
Meeting Park Gyu-jin in New York had been pure coincidence.
Just before returning to Korea, he had finally enjoyed a few days free from work and met up with her.
Unfortunately…
A paparazzo had captured the moment.
A dating scandal?
With a woman he felt absolutely nothing for?
A married woman, no less?
His morals weren’t so low that he’d knowingly become involved with someone else’s wife.
Besides—
Hadn’t he given an extremely generous wedding gift at her wedding?
Snorting in disbelief, Seung-hyun shook his head.
“If you’re outside, come in for a moment.”
The secretary entered almost immediately.
“You know the hotel I’m staying at?”
“Yes, sir.”
“There are three suitcases there.”
“Could you move them to this address?”
Taking the hastily scribbled note, the secretary looked at the address before asking,
“Please tell me how to get inside.”
“The house belonged to my younger sister while I was in America.”
“There isn’t a master key.”
“I’ll give you the passcode.”
“Just leave the luggage by the entrance.”
“Understood.”
“And unless there’s a special reason…”
“I won’t need a driver.”
“I’ll be driving myself.”
“I’ll report that.”
She hesitated.
“But… aren’t you moving back into the family home?”
Seung-hyun smiled.
It was the smile of an extraordinarily handsome man.
Yet somehow it felt like a blade pressed against her throat.
“You don’t know what happens…”
“…when I move back into that house?”
Unable to answer, she simply stood there.
“Move the luggage.”
Only after the secretary quietly left did Seung-hyun lean back in his chair and finish his now-cold coffee.
It had already become a complicated first day back.
Still…
It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
For the first time, he found himself grateful that his younger sister had chosen to study abroad.
With one clean strike, Byung-sik brought his knife down on the head of a floundering rockfish.
Looking over at Seo-ah, who sat slumped in her chair, he clicked his tongue.
“What kind of lunatic asks for a private hall for 125 people? So that’s why you’ve been running all over town?”
“Please help me, Uncle.”
She clasped her hands together.
“I promise I’ll bring you plenty of business. Please let us hold our company dinner here.”
“I’m not exaggerating—I visited more than twenty places!”
“I even checked buffets!”
She sighed dramatically.
“And why does everyone insist on holding first-birthday parties on weekdays?”
“Oh, you poor thing.”
Byung-sik shouted toward the kitchen.
“Hye-ran! Call today’s reservation customers and apologize!”
“It’s Seo-ah’s company dinner!”
From the sink in the back came an enthusiastic reply.
“Okay!”
“Yay! Thank you, Uncle!”
The moment he agreed, Seo-ah practically jumped out of her seat.
Byung-sik’s sashimi restaurant had been her last hope.
The location…
The price…
The size…
Everything was perfect.
Whether it would satisfy everyone’s taste was another matter.
After texting Manager Choi that she’d successfully booked the venue, a steaming bowl of hoe-deopbap—Korean mixed rice with raw fish—was placed in front of her.
Looking puzzled, she glanced at Byung-sik as he sat across from her.
“For me?”
“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”
“I can tell you ran out during lunch.”
“Wow…”
She grinned.
“I knew I could only count on you, Uncle.”
What was pride compared to food?
Cheering happily, Seo-ah squeezed a generous amount of spicy vinegar sauce over the bowl, mixed it thoroughly, and shoveled a huge spoonful into her mouth.
“Here, have some soup too.”
Hye-ran set down a bowl of clear soybean paste soup.
Then she smiled.
“Seo-ah, how is it that you still haven’t grown any taller?”
Chewing happily, Seo-ah answered,
“I was already about this height in sixth grade.”
“I just… never grew after that.”
“But it’s never really caused me any problems.”
“True.”
Hye-ran laughed.
“You look cute and much younger than your age.”
“Exactly!”
Seo-ah beamed with an innocent smile.
Seeing her carefree expression, however, the couple’s own smiles gradually faded.
Looking away, Byung-sik sighed.
“So…”
“How have things been?”
“Do you visit your father often?”
“…Not really.”
She hesitated.
“I’ve been too busy.”
“I suppose.”
“Young people these days really do work themselves to death.”
“My mom visits him often.”
“I go whenever I can.”
Byung-sik nodded.
He looked as though he wanted a cigarette.
But Seo-ah knew he had quit smoking years ago.
“Your father is probably taking it easy up in heaven.”
He chuckled sadly.
“That lazy bum never belonged in firefighting in the first place.”
“As for me…”
“I think running this restaurant suits me much better.”
Seo-ah laughed.
“You’re right.”
“My dad was never exactly the heroic type.”
“And Uncle…”
“You know you look really cool when you’re slicing fish?”
“The firefighter uniform was a little…”
“…unstylish.”
Holding back a laugh, she sipped her soup.
These days Byung-sik owned a sashimi restaurant.
But years ago…
He had been her father’s fellow firefighter.
Just like her father, he had always rushed fearlessly toward towering flames—
And had always been among the last to leave a burning building.
The difference was…
Only one of them had come back.
During the massive fire at a Seoul amusement park…
Her father never escaped.
When they eventually recovered his body, they discovered something heartbreaking.
He wasn’t even wearing his firefighting gear.
He had taken it off…
To save someone else.
People called him a hero.
But to Seo-ah and the rest of the family…
He was simply a foolish father who had chosen death over coming home.
As Seo-ah’s spoon slowed,
Hye-ran quietly nudged Byung-sik in the side.
Only then did he clear his throat, hurry to the refrigerator, and return with a bottle of cola.
“I’ll serve you the freshest sashimi I’ve got today.”
“So eat as much as you want.”
“All right?”
He smiled warmly.
“This one’s on the house.”
“And this too.”
“It’s just for you.”
