SAGW 17

Chapter : 17

The place where the storm had swept through was quiet.

No, it was silent.

After the incident at the police station, the con artist who had been tormenting me, Kim Gwang-su, was arrested and detained. The vicious lawyer, Park Deok-bae, had not only been suspended from practicing law, but somehow had also become the subject of an intensive tax investigation.

“I’ll make sure they can’t even pick up the pieces.”

Kang Seo-jun’s words had not been an empty threat. The lawyers he had brought in were nothing short of bulldozers. Living up to their reputation as the best legal experts in South Korea, they used the merciless system of the law to strip the con artists bare, right down to their souls.

And then came miraculous news.

“We found the land they had transferred under borrowed names. We’re pursuing criminal proceedings as well, so we can put a provisional seizure on it and keep it tied up. It may take some time, but we should be able to recover at least 80% of the principal.”

It was a phone call from Attorney Choi, who was handling my case. The 300 million won I had lost—money that even the police and ordinary lawyers had given up on, saying it was impossible to find. Korea’s top law firm had actually managed to track it down.

Thanks to that, I was able to return to my everyday life. Not only had I escaped the hellish legal battle, but I had also gained hope that I might be able to recover all the money I had thought was gone forever.

But the problem was time.

The money would only come back sometime in the distant future. For now, my bank account was still in the red.

At two in the afternoon, I habitually tapped away at the calculator beside my monitor.

[Hourly fee for Partner Attorney Seo-in: Minimum 500,000 won]

[Hourly investigation and response fee:　???]

I felt like the calculator screen was about to flash ‘ERROR.’

‘This is insane….’

The manpower Kang Seo-jun had mobilized to save me. Even if I converted it into nothing but money, it was obvious that tens of millions of won had easily been spent.

This enormous ‘rescue cost’ was never something I could afford in the first place. The 300 million won was a clearly defined debt bound by a ‘contract,’ but what he had done for me that day… was a ‘salvation’ that could not be measured in money.

He had casually brushed it off as ‘benefits as a wife,’ but I knew better.

Money would have been easier.

A favor that could not even be calculated on a calculator was the most terrifying kind of compound interest in the world.

“Assistant Manager, why are you sighing so deeply? You’re going to make the ground collapse.”

Ji-eun, sitting beside me, asked worriedly.

I hurriedly shoved the calculator into my drawer and smiled awkwardly.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just…”

As my voice trailed off, Ji-eun clapped her hands as if she had suddenly remembered something.

“Oh, right! It’s payday today!”

At Ji-eun’s words, the expressions of the employees around us instantly brightened.

The only drug that kept an office worker going for an entire month—the day of financial therapy.

As if on cue, everyone’s phones began to ring.

[K Bank: Salary deposit 4,350,000 won]

The moment I saw the deposit notification, the corners of my lips instinctively lifted.

It was an amount that matched the title of an assistant manager at a major corporation, the kind of number other people might envy.

But the joy lasted only a moment.

[Loan interest withdrawal: 850,000 won]

Both my jeonse loan and credit loan interest. Why had the interest rates gone up again?

[Card payment: 2,500,000 won]

The installments for last month’s legal consultation fees and the living expenses I had been juggling between cards had taken a toll.

[Telecommunications/Maintenance/Insurance: 350,000 won]

My bank account was nothing more than a ‘transfer station’ where money briefly passed through.

Watching the enormous numbers flow out like the tide going back out, I let out a hollow laugh.

[Balance: 650,000 won]

This was my reality.

What good was having a high salary when my debts were even higher?

The result of grinding myself down for an entire month was a mere 650,000 won.

But that wasn’t the end.

[Allowance transfer to parents: 300,000 won]

The money I sent to my parents in the countryside every month.

After committing the unfilial act of being scammed out of my jeonse deposit, I couldn’t bring myself to stop even this.

No.

If anything, I had to squeeze money out of my already-strained finances and send it to them, saying, ‘Your daughter got promoted, so please buy yourselves something delicious.’

In the end, what I actually had left in my hands was 350,000 won.

I had to cover food, transportation, and living expenses with 10,000 won a day.

For someone drowning in 300 million won of debt, worrying about how to repay a chaebol heir for his ‘kindness’ was an absurd luxury.

‘Know your place, Lee Da-eun.’

I bitterly turned off my phone.

One by one, the lights in the office went out, and the employees hurried to leave.

“Assistant Manager, aren’t you going home?”

“Yeah. I have a few things left to整理. Go ahead.”

After seeing my colleagues off, I remained alone in the empty office.

In truth, I had nothing left to do.

I simply didn’t want to go home.

A penthouse with no one in it.

Whenever I was alone in that huge, luxurious house, I kept remembering what had happened in the car a few days ago.

The warmth of his hand holding mine.

His broad shoulder supporting my head.

‘…This is dangerous.’

I couldn’t keep thinking about it.

I couldn’t rely on him.

He was someone who lived in the heavens, while I was someone crawling along the ground.

If I foolishly gave him my heart, I would be the one left miserable when the contract ended.

“Let’s go. I have to earn my keep.”

I gathered my things and left the office.

When I reached the first-floor lobby by elevator, I ran into Secretary Kim, who was hurrying past me.

He was carrying a coffee carrier in his hands.

“Oh? Secretary Kim.”

“Ah, Assistant Manager Lee. Are you leaving work now?”

“Yes. But what’s that…?”

When I gestured toward the coffee, Secretary Kim looked troubled.

“The Executive Director requested it instead of a meal. It looks like the overseas branch video conference will run long today. He’s been skipping dinner and drinking nothing but coffee on an empty stomach while continuing the meeting.”

“Oh…”

My heart gave a sharp pang.

Had his own work piled up because he had been spending so much time dealing with my problems?

“He must be… very busy.”

“Yes. He’s a little on edge because of the quarterly performance report. Well, I should get going.”

Secretary Kim hurried toward the elevators.

I stood there blankly, watching his retreating figure before turning my gaze toward the revolving doors of the lobby.

Beyond them was the VIP drop-off zone on the first floor, covered in pitch-black darkness.

There, Seo-jun’s black sedan sat idling all alone.

The red taillights glowing from the ownerless car looked almost like tired eyes blinking weakly.

‘He’s working without even having a proper meal.’

A Korean who lived on the strength of a good meal was skipping meals.

I had always made sure he ate properly under the excuse that I needed to earn my keep.

I could simply pretend I hadn’t noticed and go home.

But seeing that lonely car kept holding me back.

The silhouette of him bursting through the doors of the police station.

The warmth of his hands enveloping mine as they trembled.

Those images remained like afterimages and refused to disappear.

‘…Yeah. This is repayment.’

A small but certain repayment to the person who had willingly reached out his hand when I was at my lowest.

It didn’t have to be anything grand or expensive.

Surely I could at least make sure he had one warm meal to fill his empty stomach.

Even if he was a chaebol, he still felt hunger just like everyone else.

I turned around with determination.

The bright fluorescent lights of CS25 convenience store in front of the company drew me in like a moth to a flame.

“Welcome.”

Ignoring the dry greeting from the part-time employee, I instinctively scanned the shelves.

The convenience store was my territory.

I could find anything I needed even with my eyes closed.

But today was different.

I wasn’t here to grab dinner for myself.

I was here to choose a gift for that person.

‘What should I buy?’

The taste of a third-generation chaebol heir.

He was the kind of person who would scrape every last bit of the doenjang stew I made, but this was different.

He normally took a handful of supplements every day because he cared about his health.

Would instant food packed with preservatives even suit his palate?

A lunch box?

It wouldn’t taste good once it got cold.

Cup noodles?

If the broth splashed on his clothes, they’d be ruined.

After agonizing over it, I stopped in front of the refrigerated display.

[1+1 Promotional Items]

The ‘value for money’ section I normally would have grabbed from without even looking back.

But today, my hand hesitated.

‘Am I really going to give something I got for free as a gift to the person who saved my life?’

My pride—or rather, my conscience—wouldn’t allow it.

I squeezed my eyes shut and moved my hand to the side.

Today wasn’t about ‘value for money.’

It was about ‘value for the heart.’

Premium brewed cup coffee R. 2,500 won.

Two cups would be 5,000 won.

It was a luxury by my standards, but today, I closed my eyes to the expense and picked them up.

‘All right. I’m treating him today.’

Then I went to the hot-bar section.

Not the ordinary sausages, but the premium ones supposedly bursting with juicy flavor.

3,000 won each.

Finally, the triangle kimbap section.

‘Jeonju Bibimbap.’

This was a universal rule.

No matter how rich he was, there was no way he could refuse this flavor.

The basket had become fairly heavy.

My steps toward the register were solemn.

“Do you need a bag?”

“Yes. Please put everything in one.”

The sound of the barcodes being scanned.

Beep. Beep.

[Total: 12,500 won]

It was more than my daily food budget, but my hand didn’t tremble as I handed over my card.

I took the receipt and left the convenience store.

The night air was cold, but the warmth of the bag in my hand was comforting.

I sat down on one of the parasol chairs in front of the convenience store.

Then, with trembling hands, I took out my phone.

[Recipient: Executive Director (Party A)]

What should I send?

‘Have you eaten?’ That sounded too clingy.

‘Come outside.’ That sounded too presumptuous.

I wrote and deleted the message several times before finally settling on the most polite and straightforward sentence.

[Executive Director, I heard you’re working late. Could you come down to the convenience store on the first floor for a moment? I have something to give you.]

Send.

My heart pounded.

What if he said he was too busy to come?

What if he said he didn’t eat cheap food like this?

Well, then I would just eat it all myself.

Pretending to be cool, I looked down into the bag.

‘Coffee 5,000 won, sausages 6,000 won, triangle kimbap 1,500 won.’

Total: 12,500 won.

It probably wasn’t even enough to pay for a single glass of the wine he drank.

But it was the best expression of my feelings that could come out of my pocket right now.

One minute.

Two minutes.